“Fine. Let’s do it.”
“Very well,” Renard said. “Begin with the Leviathan’s torpedo tubes and weapons. It carries only six spare weapons, but ten bow-mounted tubes allow for great speed of fire and flexibility in engaging multiple targets. Reload from the spare racks is expected to be rapid. Under two minutes — highly automated reload.”
Jake studied a listing of the Leviathan’s characteristics.
“This ship looks tough,” he said.
“Comparable to a Scorpène,” Renard said, “assuming comparable crews. We’re safe to assume, however, that if the Leviathan has gone rogue, it has done so with degraded staffing. I can’t see an entire Israeli crew mutinying.”
“But there’s only eight of us. That’s a stretch to run a submarine designed for thirty.”
“Optimized for thirty,” Renard said. “It can run with fewer, and we have new recruits to our team coming from French Navy veterans. We’ll have sixteen.”
“So where are they?”
“On the ship, familiarizing themselves with the systems and making ready to sail. We will employ the use of a few shipyard experts to shakedown the ship, return the experts to shore, and then the ship will be ours.”
The group studied and discussed the details of the Leviathan for an hour. There would be time to delve deeper underway, but Jake appreciated that his brain would process and sleep upon the first wave of knowledge it acquired through Renard’s lecture.
“Very well, then,” Renard said. “Are we ready to enjoy the view from the summit before we hike back down to the vans?”
“Sure,” Jake said. “A few hours, the drive to Toulon, then what?”
“Stow our gear on the ship before a late dinner,” Renard said. “Then a night in the finest hotel Henri could find. It will be our last sleep on dry land for some time, and I thought we would enjoy the comfort.”
As the team stowed gear and hoisted backpacks over their shoulders, Jake saw the young couple reenter the structure. The man smiled, and the lady raised the diamond ring on her finger. Renard’s mercenaries erupted into applause.
While clapping, Jake whispered to Henri.
“That was a long proposal.”
“No,” Henri said. “You notice that their jeans are wrinkled and dirtied.”
“You notice fashion details,” Jake said. “I don’t.”
“Fashion or not, I believe there were extracurricular celebrations beyond the proposal itself.”
Jake raced down the mountain ahead of the others. His thighs aching, he lifted his cell phone and sought a signal. Successful, he called his brother Nick and heard a groggy voice.
“Hello.”
“Sorry, I forgot the time difference. Did I wake you?”
“Yeah, but I should have been up already. It’s almost eight here. I’ve got a Reiki appointment at ten.”
“Giving or getting?”
“Conducting a session for a friend. I’ve got a couple massages scheduled this afternoon, too. Business is picking up a bit.”
“Good. If you ever need money, I can get some to you whenever.”
“I appreciate the offer, but you don’t have to keep asking. I’ll be fine.”
“I can’t believe people pay you for what you do,” Jake said. “I guess that’s a good thing though.”
“Many people see a lot of what I do as hocus pocus, but there’s truth to it all. I help people feel better physically and spiritually.”
Jake ran his hand through his hair.
“Yeah, that’s kind of why I’m calling. I’m about to do something that could be dangerous.”
“Who? You?”
“Be serious. I’m scared. For the first time I can remember, I’m scared like something’s not right. I’m not sure if it’s because you planted a seed in my head that gloom and doom was around the corner or what.”
Jake waited in silence while he knew that Nick tapped into whatever third eye or energy field served as his wellspring of insight.
“Sorry,” Nick said. “You know I stink at lying. I still sense danger. There is something wrong.”
“Shit.”
“I’m sorry, Jake. I’m concerned, too. Maybe you should back out of whatever you’re planning.”
“I don’t back out of anything.”
“I know. And I can’t guarantee that backing out is the safer route. All I know is that your heart senses danger, and only your heart knows what your next move is.”
“So what the hell good does that do me?”
“Connect with your heart and you’ll know.”
“Maybe in my next lifetime. I don’t have time in this one. Not now anyway.”
“If we had more time together, I could—”
“Never mind, Nick. Just let it go.”
“Don’t you want to know how Joey is?”
“No. He can take a flying leap… I mean, I’m glad you’re okay. Look, I gotta go.”
Jake hung up and wondered if his brother knew something that he was too dense to understand.
The next day, Pierre Renard examined the Scorpène submarine’s operations room.
Six dual-stacked French-designed Subtics system tactical monitors spanned the compartment’s left side. Seated before one panel was Antoine Remy, his longtime sonar expert. Short with a thick nose, Remy wore a sonar headset that made his head appear wide. He reminded Renard of a toad.
“This system is just like an Agosta’s,” Remy said. “It’s easy.”
“As it should be,” Renard said. “Let me test the periscope.”
Renard stuck his eye to the optics and saw the dreary Toulon waterfront. He toggled the magnification back and forth and stepped back.
“The periscope works,” he said. “Submarine construction continues to amaze me with its efficacy and reliability. Sea trials seem almost anticlimactic.”
“Who knew all those years of slaving away on old Agostas were preparing me for a life of riches earned by working for you on these new luxurious hulls?”
“I knew,” Renard said. “I could feel it even back then, my friend. I was proud of our naval uniforms, but I sensed that someday we’d be setting sail on our own terms.”
“Bullshit,” Jake said.
The Frenchman spun around the periscope and pressed his palms against the railing surrounding the elevated conning platform. His American friend looked troubled.
“Bullshit?”
“We’re doing this on your terms, not our terms,” Jake said. “Just like our last venture and even on the Colorado, everyone is doing your damned bidding. You’re a manipulator, and we’re just pawns.”
“At last count,” Renard said, “my so-called pawns included eight millionaires. More than twice that many if you credit me with enriching my informants and moles.”
“Hello, Jake,” Remy said. “We all know he’s a bastard. That’s why we adore him. Didn’t you sleep well last night? You seem more irritable than normal.”
“Hi, Antoine. I slept like crap.”
Renard saw Henri, his back straight with dignity in each step, enter the control center behind Jake.
“It’s like I’m on an Agosta,” he said. “I know I’m not, but I can feel and sense it. Things aren’t located exactly where I want them to be, but the ship is familiar.”
“Henri, my friend,” Renard said. “I know you will adjust. It’s our American colleague that concerns me.”
“I’ll be fine,” Jake said.
A shipyard worker, a design expert in the Subtics system, slid by Henri and took a seat beside Remy. Renard watched him open a manual under Remy’s nose and tap keys to run a pre-underway system diagnostic.”