Quijana nodded. "Mark the sub as target seven," he ordered. In a few seconds the screen updated with the designation.
"Skipper," Yermo said, "the frigate that was going to meet the battle group and two of its own escorts are heading toward the sub."
Quijana looked again at the screen and saw the targets designated as "two," "five," and "six," changing course to intercept the submarine labeled as "seven."
"And I'm picking up some noise that suggests one or more helicopters enroute, too," Yermo added. "Ummm . . . skipper?"
"Yeah, I know. If they're heading toward the Gallic sub they're also heading toward us. Lemme think, for a bit."
S806 Diamant (Amethyst Class), Shimmering Sea, Terra Nova
The control room, though crowded and cramped, was also calm and fully collected. They were a professional crew, with what every man aboard would have agreed was a first rate captain in command.
"Any sign that the target sub is moving away?" asked the captain of a fresh faced, young deck officer.
"So far nothing, sir," the deck officer replied. "They can't be so ignorant as to believe we don't hear them, can they?"
The captain, medium height and graying at the temples, raised one hand to his jaw and commenced tapping his fingers lightly across thin lips.
"Is it possible they don't hear us—or the escorts or the helicopters—all heading this way?" the captain asked.
The deck officer frowned. "After that burst of speed we put on," he said, "they've got to know we're here. And Intel has said the Balboans brought Volgan and maybe improved that through their Yamatan or Zioni contacts. Volgan may not be of the best but it's plenty good enough to hear everything but"—the deck officer put out one hand and waggled his fingers—"maybe the helicopters off of Charlemagne."
"Is it possible they don't know how good our sensors are?" the captain asked.
"Why do you ask, sir?"
"Because Intel also said that every member of a Balboan submarine crew is a graduate of something like our own commando course. That means they're a very determined bunch. And if a very determined bunch is pressing in to engagement range after having been made, that worries me a great deal.
"And then, too, when you think about the rogue nature of the whole Balboan state, an army that owns a country . . . renting themselves out as mercenaries . . . their long standing policy of enmity with everything decent and liberal . . . uncontrollable . . . willful . . . and war is coming, where Charlemagne will be a critical asset."
The captain made a sudden decision. "Ready four torpedoes," he said. "Rig for extreme silent running. Bring us back above the thermal. And then bring us into a three hundred and sixty degree turn."
"Sir?"
"I want to come up on their tail again."
"Sir, they don't carry torpedoes."
"You know, son," the captain said, putting an affectionate hand on his officer's shoulder, "I could believe one research or drug interdiction sub might be built with no weapons. But nobody builds what amounts to a factory to make a class of submarines with no arms. No market for it, you see."
"But Intel—"
"Fuck Intel. They've been wrong before. And they're just the sort to be right about the quasi commando training—that can be seen—but utterly wrong about whether that sub is armed, since that's harder to see."
"They could intend for the subs to be commando carriers," the deck officer said, not unreasonably.
"Do you want to bet your life on that?" the captain countered. "The life of the Charlemagne?"
"Put that way, sir, no." The deck officer turned from the captain and began to give the orders.
SdL Megalodon, Shimmering Sea, Terra Nova
Auletti turned his head over one should and twisted to look directly at Chu. "The frog sub's disappeared, skipper. No trace."
"Well find it."
Auletti gave his captain one of those looks that as much as said, Don't be an ass. Sir.
Chu nodded. "Yeah, right. Belay that."
Aleman suggested, "We might be able to pick them up again if we come up above the thermal, assuming they went above it."
Shaking his head, Chu answered, "Sure, and they might hear us. We're quiet, but you never know. No, we'll maintain course to intercept Charlemagne."
SdL Orca, Shimmering Sea, Terra Nova
"Lost 'em, captain," Yermo told Quijana. "I think maybe they went under the layer."
Quijana nodded while thinking, Man, ever since Pedraz booted me off the Trinidad I've felt like a fugitive from the law of averages. And my instructions didn't cover this. What's that frog sub doing? What would I be doing in his shoes?
"I've got a better signature on that surface disturbance, sir," Yermo said. "It's definitely at least one helicopter . . . and I've got a plonk from a sonar buoy. Active sonar pinging now."
"Don't sweat the buoy," Quijana said. "I doubt they need it for us, with the clicker going. If I had to make a guess, I'd say they're looking for that sub we lost track of." Of course, that assumes the frog sub is still playing a game with her own battle group. I'm really getting uncomfortable with all this.
Then again, my mission is to provide cover for the Meg to get under the fleet. Have I already done that? I could use the underwater phone to find out but if I do the frogs will know there's another sub out here. One they hadn't a clue to. That might panic them. Hell, it would panic me. This is . . .
Yermo interrupted Quijana's train of thought. "Captain, I've got another plonk. High frequency noise but not sonar. One of the helicopters, if there is more than one up there, is talking to the frog sub. And . . . there goes another plonk. Skipper, I'm sure there's more than one helicopter up there."
S806 Diamant, Shimmering Sea, Terra Nova
"What the fuck do you mean, 'there's only one sub down there'?" Diamant's captain demanded on the helicopter that had dropped the sonobuoy. "I can hear the bastard . . . Oh, you see us doing a three-sixty under the layer, but you can't see them cruising straight above the layer. Oh, you can hear the clicking from the defective water jet? But no active return signal? That's bizarre."
"Could be the material," the deck officer ventured. "The plastic we know makes up the hull might give a poor return signal."
"But that poor?" the captain questioned.
"Maybe the sonobuoy's defective," the deck officer offered, reasonably.
"No . . . no, they see us well enough." The captain went back to tapping his lips. He ceased his tapping and put the underwater telephone transceiver back to his head. "Relay to Charlemagne," he said. "I want a line of passive sonobuoys dropped in front of that sub. If he doesn't turn back from those it will establish a pretty good case that he intends to intercept the battle group with hostile intent. I also need permission from the admiral to fire if they do pass that line. Tell the admiral I am loading tubes."
SdL Megalodon, Shimmering Sea
Now that I heard, thought Auletti. "Captain Chu, the Amethyst Class is flooding tubes. Location on screen now."