Rogue Mercenary by John R Monteith

Author:John R Monteith [Monteith, John R]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781640621015
Publisher: Braveship Books
Published: 2019-11-14T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

A sonar technician called out. “Active acoustic intercept, bearing two–”

Interrupting the report, two explosions ripped into the hull above Dogan, and the seas became two pitchers of deadly water pouring into his steel coffin.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a man reaching for the emergency blow switches in desperate hopes of voiding the main ballast tanks and rocketing to the surface.

Accustomed to thinking through frayed nerves, Dogan grasped a coherent thought.

Two holes above a control room, near a submarine’s conning tower, marked the signature attack of dolphins serving the mercenary fleet. The attack was more than survivable. It was endurable, if the would-be victim declared himself something other than a victim.

Not a victim. Warrior.

His submarine could withstand two holes.

Surfacing meant defeat.

Staying submerged granted him hope of fighting back.

While the sailors around him wrestled with newfound sensations of mortal panic, Dogan found a strange comfort with the horrors. Though he was scared, his years of dealing with dreadful memories braced him better than those around him.

And the those around him needed him.

Courage enveloped him as saltwater peppered his face and drenched his cotton jumpsuit. He walked with defiance while locking eyes with the man whose white knuckles grasped the emergency air switches.

Dogan shouted over the inundation and spray. “Look at me! Look at me! Look… at… me!”

The petrified man kept his gaze on his commander.

Dogan marched forward with his tennis shoes splashing in the sheets flowing across the deck plates.

“Sit down! Sit down! Depth control! Come to twenty-two meters! Do not broach! Twenty-two meters. Do not broach!”

Shaking, the terrified man remained a paralyzed statue.

Recalling the sailor’s first name, Dogan tried again. “Yusuf, sit! Depth control! Twenty-two meters! Do not broach!”

Trembling hands released the switches. “Twenty… twenty-two meters. Do not broach, aye, sir.”

The warrior Dogan turned, marched to his next sailor, and let his shoulder push through one of the unwelcomed water columns. Its power knocked him aside and unveiled the threat’s power, but he’d braced for the sensation and regained his stability under his cold and soggy jumpsuit.

When he reached the trio of the helmsman, planesman, and their supervisor, he shouted his next command over the hissing salt shower. “All-ahead two-thirds, make turns for twelve knots! Right standard rudder, steady course zero-two-five!”

Frightened men agreed and obeyed, and the Preveze’s commander trusted them to accelerate their drifting submarine.

Shielding his eyes from the spray, Dogan continued his unwanted shower while walking to the master chief. There, he found the veteran pushing fear from his own eyes. “Sir!”

“Lead damage control!”

“Already on it, sir. I sent two men to get the nearest kit. I will continue to lead damage control.”

Again, Dogan barked his confidence towards everyone within earshot. “We can handle the flooding! We can keep depth control! We can evade and remain a fighting ship!”

A quick scan of wet faces gave Dogan immediate feedback. His crew revered him.

The tiny master chief reached for a microphone and spoke forcefully. “Flooding in the control room. We’ve been breached by two charges. Get damage control teams up here with shoring.

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