A nasty glance from the toad-head told the Specter’s commander that his presence bothered his team.
Jake stepped away and placed the central table between himself and his listening team. Fifteen minutes later, he noticed his fingers rapping against the chart as a burst of chirps and whistles echoed through the room. “Antoine?”
The toad-head turned. “Yes! That’s it. From the mothership.”
“Any response from dolphins?”
“Yes, at least I think so, but I’ll need to analyze it later. It was a rapid exchange. I don’t expect them to repeat it.”
“Neither do I.” Jake looked over his shoulder. “Henri, take us down gently to one hundred and fifty feet. Set us on course zero-eight-zero. Take us out of here.”
“Gladly.”
Half an hour later, Jake sensed renewed impatience as he glanced at his French mechanic. He moved to his colleague’s side. “I assume that you want to shoot now?”
“The thought did cross my mind.”
“First things first. Let’s get another communications buoy to Pierre. This time, send him the recording of the dolphin exchange. Use a thirty-minute delay. Once it’s launched, I’ll shoot weapons.”
“What if the mothership accelerates?”
“It won’t. And we’re still well within torpedo range if it does.”
“I’ll get the buoy launched. Should I also get tubes five and six ready, too?”
“Tubes three and five. It’s a starboard nest shot. And keep it super quiet. Have them swim out.”
The Frenchman tapped keys. “Tubes three and five are ready.”
“Shoot tubes three and five.”
Ten minutes later, the toad-head turned. “I hear our first weapon’s warheads attaching to the mothership. At least half of them are hitting. I now hear the second weapon’s warheads attaching as the first warheads detonate.”
“Very well. Try to count them all.”
“Too many to count. I’ll need to listen to a recording if you want the accurate number.”
The Specter’s commander shook his head. “Just let me know what the mothership’s doing.”
“It’s slowing and flooding from a lot of holes.”
“But it’s not sinking?”
The toad-head shook. “No. It’s too big of a ship.”
“Henri, ready tubes four and six.”
The Frenchman tapped keys. “Tubes four and six are ready.”
“Shoot tubes four and six.”
As the second salvo sought its damaged prey, Jake saw the low-frequency feed confirm Renard’s receipt of the recorded Iranian dolphin calls. “Pierre’s received our message. If our ships play this call from a drone, we won’t be dealing with Iranian dolphin problems anymore whether the dolphins can operate without their mothership or not.”
Henri nodded. “I should’ve known better than to have doubted you.”
Jake smirked. “Is that an apology?”
“I wasn’t aware you were looking for one.”
“I’m not. And I don’t hold it against you. You’ll doubt me again, I’m sure, and you’ll be vocal about it. As usual.” The fleeting joviality gave way to anxiety as Jake saw his sonar ace curl forward and press his muffs into his head. “Antoine?”
The toad-head rotated. “I just picked up a Ghadir from the south. It’s moving.”
“Bearing drift, bearing rate, blade rate?”
“Blade rate correlates to six knots. Bearing rate is zero.”
Jake walked to the central table and watched an icon appear with Remy’s information. “Antoine, do you have it on the bow or conformal arrays?”
The toad-head shook. “Just the towed array.”
“Alright. I’m slowing. Henri, all stop.”
The silver-haired mechanic tapped his console, and the deck’s gentle vibrations ceased.
Jake kept his eyes on the tactical chart. “Antoine, let me know when you’ve got a new bearing rate.”
“Not yet.”
“I don’t like being at all stop while I’m running from a ship I just attacked.”
“I said ‘not yet’.”
Holding back from tapping the hard surface, Jake wiggled nervous fingers over the table.
The toad-head turned. “Okay. I’ve got it. One-point-three degrees per minute to the left.”
“Thanks, Antoine. Henri, make turns for seven knots.”
“I’ve ordered turns for seven knots. The engine room acknowledges, and we’re making turns for seven knots.”
As Jake felt a gentle thrumming through his feet, he used a stylus to draw the discovered Iranian submarine’s track. “Henri, get a note into a communications buoy for Pierre. Send him this new contact’s course, speed, and location. It’s too far away for me to shoot, and I don’t like the way it’s going.”
“I’m preparing the message.” In his unofficial role of psychologist, Henri added his leading questions. “What’s not to like? Do you want to add a recommendation for him?”
Jake scoffed. “Yeah, I do, but I didn’t want to tell him how to run his fleet, especially while he’s working for a bigger fleet.”
“Speak your mind and let him filter what he wants.”
“Tell him that I think this submarine’s got an idea of where the Indiana and Goliath are, but I have no idea how. We just found the dolphins, and they were nowhere near any of our other ships.”
“That’s to be verified.”
The toad-head rotated upward. “I verified it. The dolphins were returning to the mothership from the south.”
Henri sneered. “Our superhuman sonar expert has verified the dolphins, but you said the Iranian submarine has an idea of our colleagues’ location. It’s not exact?”
The Specter’s commander shook his head. “No. It’s moving too far ahead to intercept them, but it’s on the right trajectory for someone who knows our friends’ course but has overestimated their speed. It seems like somebody figured out their direction towards Pakistan.”
“I’m sure Pierre will see that, but I’ll include your thoughts in the message anyway.”
Jake considered his final teammate. “Yeah. And also ask him to send me whatever Dmitry’s seeing. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s more than one Iranian submarine on the move, trying to get ahead of Terry and ruin our mission.”
CHAPTER 15
His adrenaline spiking, Volkov hushed his team. “Silence! Pass the word for everyone to stay still. Don’t move. Touch nothing.”
As an anxious tranquility enveloped the room, the gray-bearded veteran spoke repetitive commands into a sound-powered phone, compartment by compartment. “Everyone’s aware to stay still, sir. Nobody’s moving.”
Disobeying his own orders, the Wraith’s commander walked to his sonar team, stooped behind his expert, and lowered his voice to a near-whisper. The bright line of sound from the nearby Iranian submarine’s reduction gears cut a hockey stick across the display. Overlapping the gears’ signature, sounds from the propeller blades carved thinner strands across the screen. “How close?”
Anatoly kept his face aimed at his console. “Depends on speed. I’m factoring that in now.”
“Don’t you have blade rate?”
“I have everything. I’m still calculating. It came out of nowhere.”
Doing the blunt math in his head, Volkov tried to lead his witness to an answer. “A quarter a mile. Half a mile at most.”
The sonar ace nodded his slow affirmation. “Yeah. Real close, but it’s opening range now. We’re no longer at risk of a collision.”
“That’s not what I was worried about.”
Looking over his shoulder, Anatoly glared at his commanding officer. “You should’ve been.”
Volkov silently conceded the point but concentrated on the present danger. “Keep tracking it. Listen for weapons launches.”