Backlighting flames casting shadows, the Philippine frigate’s bridge became deep blackness. He stared at its ominous opaqueness, offered its invisible captain a salute, and followed his crew into the salty water.
Kicking through the fluid, he strained his extremities to distance himself from the pending explosion. Wanting to stop and look, he exercised judgment and continued to kick, as he had ordered his men to do.
The explosion sounded like Armageddon through the water and the air, and then a surface wave caught him. Atop its crest, he continued kicking, unsure what debris may fly in his direction.
When exhaustion and impatience overcame him, he flipped onto his back.
The fires of the Alcatraz angled upward as the frigate’s severed halves twisted into the water. Jake strained his eyes for the Wraith but saw nothing. He trusted that the Alcatraz’ martyrdom implied the submarine’s survival.
The former Malaysian vessel seemed charmed, like his own adopted child, and he wanted to see it again.
The white light of a helicopter dipped towards the horizon, shot across the sky, and disappeared. Jake surmised that its occupants sought the runaway Wraith to board it, duck inside it, and shut its throttles before it either ran aground or started destroying its battery cells.
The blinking light on his life jacket assured him of being found, but the rescue effort tested his patience, and fear of sharks compelled him to swim towards the shoal.
Unsure if his imagination tormented him or if the dorsal fin were real, he returned to normal breathing when the helicopter winch pulled him from the water.
As his height of eye ascended, he caught a glimpse of the Wraith. It had coasted to a stationary resting place in calm waters, and it appeared at peace.
He wiped a tear from his cheek before the deck crew hauled him into the aircraft’s cabin, and he blamed the wind for whipping the moisture from his eye.
CHAPTER 21
A surreal calm enveloped the command center.
Renard inhaled a long drag from his Marlboro, exhaled smoke, and adjusted his headset.
“It’s a pleasant surprise to hear from you Commander Cahill,” he said. “I see by your data feed that you found your way to a friendly ship with encrypted communications equipment.”
“Indeed I did, mate. I don’t expect to be talking long. Just thought I’d let you know that we’re okay out here and grab meself a tactical update. I’m running through the data and showing it to me boys like a movie. It tells a great story — all except what happened at the end. What’s the verdict for Jake?”
“He’s fine. I used a little creativity. The Alcatraz was abandoned and burning. So I decided to exchange it for the Wraith.”
“Clever, mate! Is everyone from the Wraith okay?”
“I think so, but I need to verify. You’ll need to excuse me. You should go dark anyway.”
“Right, mate. See you tomorrow night. Back at the covered wharf, right?”
“Correct. I’ll buy the beer.”
Renard switched frequencies and hailed his submarine. Nobody answered, and he tried again.
“Sorry, Pierre,” Remy said in French. “I was trying to change into dry clothes.”
“No need to apologize. Are you still alone?”
“They dropped me off first so that I could stop the shaft. Me, of all people!”
“You must have been the first person the rescue helicopter crew found who admitted to being capable of shutting down the plant.”
“I was the first person they found at all! Claude has always made sure that I know the right buttons to press to shut down his precious propulsion plant. So I volunteered, and when I got here, I shut it down.”
“Well done, Antoine. But who else is with you?”
“It’s just me! I’m alone, but I did have a companion on my helicopter ride. The captain of the Alcatraz was with me on the flight.”
Renard inhaled soothing nicotine.
“But he’s not with you now?”
“No. He stayed on the helicopter. I don’t think he wanted to join me on the Wraith. His English wasn’t very good. Or maybe he just didn’t want to talk. We could see the floating halves of his ship burning below us as we flew.”
“It’s traumatic losing one’s ship,” Renard said. “The initial reports count sixty-eight of his men lost.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Pierre. A lot of people died this night. Too many for my tastes.”
“Eighty-nine souls at last count,” he said, “and most of them from the frigates. God knows how many Chinese perished, too.”
“This is all terrible,” Remy said. “I sometimes wonder if I’m in the right job.”
“What else would you possibly do? You’re the best sonar technician in the world.”
“After tonight, I should consider retiring.”
“Unthinkable! I will always call on you when I need sonar expertise, and as long as I am breathing, I intend to continue deploying my submarines.”
He enjoyed hearing himself referring to the ownership of multiple submarines.
“Can I go now, Pierre? I’m still dripping seawater on the deck plates. I would like to change into something dry.”
“Yes, of course, my friend. A crew to navigate the Wraith back home will soon join you.”
In the silence, Renard scanned the center. Adrenaline drained from each man’s frame, and weary bodies had curled forward in chairs during the tedious rescue effort. The ventilation system strained to extract cigarette smoke and body odor from the room.
Navarro stood next to Admiral Torres, his speech moving with rare lethargy. The chief represented the exhaustion of his entire military. His words remained beyond Renard’s hearing, but the Frenchman knew their subject matter — tend to the wounded and bring everyone home.
Renard thought ahead to Navarro’s next conversation — after having fended off the Chinese tiger, what to do next?
As the conversation between the chief and the admiral lost steam, Renard stood and reached for the ceiling. His vision became dizzy with blood draining through him, but he noticed Navarro gesturing him to come by.
He doused his cigarette in an overfilled tray and then walked to the stairs. After a sharp turn, he stood beside the Philippine leaders. The stench of nicotine and nervous sweat repulsed him, but he stifled his gag reflex, and he suspected that they found his dirty scent equally revolting.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “we may be victorious, but we are hardly outside the fog of war. We need to keep our wits about us as we take our next steps.”
“We have retrieved your entire crew,” Torres said. “The last man is aboard our gunboat.”
“I appreciate the efforts of your sailors. Their urgency and efficiency in saving my men from sharks is almost as impressive as their valor and skill in combat.”
“The storm is over,” Torres said. “All our people are being tended to. My concern now is the Chinese survivors.”
“That is a matter of policy,” Renard said. “Have you discussed the message that you wish to send to China and to the entire world, for that matter?”
“Yes,” Navarro said. “We are not animals. We have agreed to detain and to render medical assistance to their survivors, but I fear they will scuttle their ships before allowing them to fall into our possession.”
“You may count on that,” Renard said. “They will not let you have them. However, for your propaganda needs, I recommend gathering as much night vision video as possible of you rescuing your adversary from their sinking ships.”