“I can,” Kang said. “Just barely, but I can hear them.”
“Young ears,” Remy said. “I suppose I should be grateful that he’s with us.”
“Doesn’t matter at the moment,” Jake said. “If it’s slowing and going shallow, it may want to communicate via radio.”
“Take us to snorkel depth?” Henri asked.
“Yes,” Jake said. “Quickly.”
As the deck angled upward, Jake returned to the elevated conning platform where he tapped a capacitive touch screen to command the periscope’s ascent. A subroutine then sent the optics into a rapid full-circle swivel, and a panoramic image of the sweep filled two adjacent monitors beside him.
The first pass had taken place with the periscope submerged, and the panorama contained hues of dark blue water.
“Steady at snorkel depth,” Henri said.
“Very well,” Jake said.
As the Specter lurched in the surface swells, he commanded another full-circle optical scan, and the world above him appeared in his screens as a panorama of light blue sky. The waters above him showed solitude, the Ambush remaining beyond visual range.
“Raise the radio mast,” Jake said. “I’m lowering the periscope.”
“Radio mast is raised,” Henri said.
“Very well,” Jake said. “Let’s see if our new friends want to speak to us.”
A minute ticked by.
“They’re not talking,” Jake said. “Maybe they’re waiting for us. Line me up to transmit high-frequency voice.”
“Lined up,” Henri said.
Jake pulled a handset from its latch, raised it to his mouth, and keyed the microphone. He made a concerted effort to avoid using the Ambush’s name.
“This is private submarine, Specter. Communication check, Over.”
Another thirty seconds ticked away.
“Are you sure we’re transmitting, Henri?”
“Yes, Jake. I’m afraid so.”
“This is private submarine, Specter. Communication check. Request communications. Over.”
Another thirty seconds.
“What’s it doing Remy?” Jake asked.
“I can’t hear anything. It’s gone quiet.”
“I don’t suppose super-ears Kang hears anything?”
The young petty officer shook his head.
“Remember to listen in all directions, defensively,” Jake said. “We may have announced our presence in unwanted directions.”
“There’s nothing, Jake,” Remy said. “I’ve been checking. We are alone except for the Ambush, and there’s no more sign that it’s still out there.”
“If its commanding officer wanted to talk, he’s had enough time,” Jake said. “Forget it. Lower the radio mast and take us back to one hundred meters, Henri.”
As the deck dipped, Remy curled forward and pressed his headset into his skull.
“Hull popping,” he said. “I’ve got the Ambush. It’s going deep and accelerating. Blade rate correlates to its maximum speed again.”
“Right ten-degrees rudder,” Jake said. “Steady course zero-nine-zero.”
As the ship turned, Jake announced another command.
“All ahead standard,” he said.
“Coming to all ahead standard,” Henri said. “May I ask why?”
“In case you’re right,” Jake said. “In case there’s a torpedo coming our way, and we just don’t hear it yet.”
Five minutes later, Remy confirmed an ocean void of manmade sounds, and Jake realized that the Ambush had departed without lashing out at him.
“All ahead one-third,” he said. “Make turns for four knots.”
He collected his thoughts and decided that they were incomplete without input from his mentor.
“Henri, bring us back to snorkel depth,” he said. “And line up our global satellite phone to call Pierre. Patch him through to my stateroom phone. While I’m gone, get a relief at the ship’s control station and take the deck and the conn.”
In his stateroom, Jake curled forward in his chair and pressed a handset to his cheek.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
“You made a bold decision, my friend,” Renard said. “I don’t know if I would have risked transmitting active sonar, but since you remain alive, I assume that you made the right call.”
“I think the Ambush went shallow to send a message telling the Royal Navy that it found us and probably to download a situation report. But no desire to talk to me.”
“It’s unfortunate that the Ambush’s commanding offer chose not to speak to you, but your attempt to communicate brings us useful news at an appropriate time. You’ve confirmed that the Ambush is transiting west to intercept the Argentine landing forces.”
“So the landing is for real?”
“Yes, indeed. Olivia is meeting with Senator Ramirez now to negotiate what she can, but I expect that troops will land, regardless of anything the Ambush might attempt.”
“My mission is the same, then? Keep searching for the San Juan and do to it what I did to the Santa Cruz?”
“Precisely. I’m afraid that the Ambush will remain at best neutral to your cause. You’ve surprised it twice, and I’m sure that you’ve aggravated its captain to the point where a third such encounter might earn you his wrath. Although you may share a common target in the Santa Cruz, stay away from it, and don’t again seek to illicit its support.”
Jake shifted his weight and leaned back.
“So I’m still alone out here, chasing a ghost?” he asked.
“Such is often the fate of a submarine commander.”
“You know that I’ve only got one limpet torpedo left, right?”
“Use it well, then.”
“The commanding officer of the Santa Cruz seemed like a total jackass, but I don’t want to take killing lightly anymore. If I need to sink the Santa Cruz, I’d like to know it’s the right thing before I do.”
“You can rarely be completely certain that you are correct when killing. We are both haunted by many ghosts that will cause us to question the fates to which we condemned them.”
Jake recalled the outcome of his last brawling rage.
“I’m not sure I can trust my instincts anymore.”
“That is unfortunate, Jake, because you must. Until I can grant you a better picture of this situation, you have no choice but to do so.”
CHAPTER 19
Modest sweat lifting the toxins from her skin, Olivia let the hot water careen over her back. The heat brought temporary relief from anxiety and fatigue as blood coursed through her.
Cleaned of perfume and the stench of travel, she crept out of the stall and wrapped herself in an absorbent robe. The garment trapped the warmth and dried her. In a mirror, she noticed the first line of a crow’s foot jutting from the corner of her eye, and she distracted herself from the disappointment by focusing on her hair.
She rubbed water from it with a towel and then attacked its wetness with a hair drier. Satisfied that evaporation would remove the residual moisture, she tied her auburn strands into a pony tail.
The bathroom door opened to a private bedroom where clothes hung ready for her within an armoire. The ease with which the senator and his staff rendered private hospitality caused her to question if his dossier fell short in estimating the number of women he had bedded.
Her hedonistic nature became enticed with joining the herd of partners who could claim carnal knowledge of Argentina’s next president. She found him handsome, and her trained eye had noticed him moving with an assured confidence that would translate into skillful lovemaking. Her seductress training would also allow her to leave him with vivid memories she could bank on invoking if she needed a favor from the future South American leader.