Wearing a headset microphone, the trainer sat between the sonar expert and one of two technicians who controlled the drones.
“Remember the new procedures, everyone,” Volkov said. “All communications to the dolphins are now being channeled through drone one.”
The drone operator nodded.
“Hail them for a response. Minimum transmit power.”
With the sounds in the Wraith’s sonar hydrophones amplified and relayed over loudspeakers, the recorded chirps and whistles piped through the drone filled the room.
Then came the welcomed response.
“They responded,” the operator said. “Range, two and a half nautical miles — five thousand yards exactly — from the drone, based upon the roundtrip speed of sound.”
“Andrei figured it out,” the trainer said. “He’s smart enough to respond the drone.”
“Let’s see he how he interprets direction,” Volkov said. “Send them to twelve o’clock relative to our position.”
“I’ve sent them a command to swim at twelve o’clock relative to our position… well, relative to a reference position… of twelve o’clock, and they’ve acknowledged.”
“Very well,” Volkov said. “Give it sixty seconds.”
Counting time, the drone operator stared at his screen.
“That’s sixty seconds,” he said.
“Get a range check.”
“Five thousand, two hundred yards from the drone.”
“They don’t see the drone as reference,” the trainer said. “They’re moving towards the ship. They see the ship as reference.”
“That’s fine,” Volkov said. “We’ll adjust our commands and our tactics.”
“You can’t use the drone to take them too far away, or they may lose sight of the ship.”
“I’ll be careful, Vasily. Trust me. I’ll also trust you to keep a watchful guard on this.”
The trainer flicked a hurried wrist in the air
“Yes, yes, of course. Let’s get through this training, please.”
“Indeed. Send them to six o’clock.”
“I’ve sent them a command to swim at six o’clock relative to our position, and they’ve acknowledged,” the operator said.
“Count off two minutes.”
“May I speak to them?” the trainer asked.
“I had your volume set low on the drone,” Volkov said. “And your voice will be overridden by any command signal. So you may speak to them whenever you wish. However, I caution you to speak sparingly since they may instinctively follow your voice in opposition to a command.”
The trainer pressed an icon on his console.
“Hello, my babies. I’m so proud of you.”
“That’s fine,” Volkov said. “Try not to overdo it.”
“Two minutes, sir,” the operator said.
“Get a range check.”
“Four thousand, eight hundred yards from the drone.”
“Very well,” Volkov said. “That verifies that they’re considering the Wraith as reference. Send them to nine o’clock.”
As the drones and dolphins drove forward, Volkov slowed the submarine to a drift.
“Let’s see how they withstand a distraction,” he said. “Aim drone two at the dolphins and play the return-to-ship message from drone two at maximum volume.”
The second technician-operator tapped his console.
Two minutes later, Volkov ordered a range check.
“They’re still swimming at nine o’clock,” the trainer said.
“Very well. That’s what we want. But let’s make this more challenging. Increase drone two’s speed to ten knots and set it on an intercept course with the dolphins.”
As the second drone approached the cetaceans with its confounding cacophony, Volkov tested the animals further.
“Let’s see what they see,” Volkov said. “Query them for submerged contacts.”
“I’m ready to query them for the bearing to a contact,” the operator said.
“Transmit the query.”
“They have a contact at three o’clock,” the operator said.
“Get a bearing and range.”
The information suggested the mammals were reporting the presence of the order-issuing drone.
“Excellent,” Volkov said. “They’re accepting orders from the drone but are still following their conditioned reporting protocols. Continue with the next contact.”
“They report a contact at nine o’clock. I’ll get the bearing and range.”
Chirps and whistles defined the second drone as the next contact in the cetaceans’ view.
“Good,” Volkov said. “They’ve identified our drones. Query them for the next contact.”
“I’m querying… and they have nothing.”
“Perfect,” Volkov said.
“Wait,” the operator said. “The bearing to the dolphins was a degree to the right farther than I expected.”
“Get a range check.”
After another triple cycle, twice-verified query of the dolphins’ location, the evidence showed them heading towards the distracting second drone.
“Vasily, talk them back,” Volkov said.
“Come home, my babies. Vasily misses you.”
“They need a new order to coincide with Vasily’s voice,” Volkov said. “Send them away from the distracting drone. Send them to four o’clock.”
“I’ve sent the order,” the operator said. “But they haven’t acknowledged.”
“Come to Vasily. Daddy wants you to be safe.”
“Increase the transmission of the order and of Vasily’s voice from drone one to half power and retransmit.”
“I’m transmitting… and I have a response!”
“Keep talking, Vasily, until we verify their direction.”
Two minutes later, a range check proved the dolphins were responding to their master’s voice and verified their ability to overcome a distraction — one distraction.
Volkov turned his ship, his drones, and his mammals towards the blockade and towards a battle where countless distractions awaited.
Eight hours later, he approached the center of the ellipse of uncertainty around the Revival’s expected position within the Gaza Strip blockade. Looking at his chart, he scoffed at the vector history showing the ease with which he’d slipped between the repositioned corvettes from the task force that had attacked Jake.
Equipped with information from Renard, Volkov had enjoyed an unfettered map through the dispersed surface combatants that patrolled an extended distance from the coastline in a defensive formation against the long-range railguns of the Goliath.
Convinced he’d circumvented the anti-submarine-capable combatants, he triple-checked the geometry governing the Crocodile. Starting where Jake had encountered the Israeli submarine, time and distance precluded its possible interference of his hunt for the Revival.
But the Crocodile was coming, and he needed to act fast.
A submarine commander’s patience under pressure paid off as he guided his assets around threats.
“Drone one and the dolphins are passing sonobuoy twenty-two,” the operator said. “The bearing rate to the sonobuoy reached a maximum of two degrees per minute and is now dropping off.”
“Very well,” Volkov said. “Maintain the search pattern.”
“There’s another source broadcasting the fake return-to-ship signal bearing three-one-one from the drone.”
Volkov trusted the dolphins’ discernment of submerged contacts to include submarines and drones. But the smaller, vertically-oriented sonobuoys skirted their threshold of interest. Assuming the local waters free of surfaced sonar systems and anti-submarine helicopters, he concluded the offending sound source was another sonobuoy.