“Only in base exercises as the weapons officer. I was supposed to take it out on my first operational training mission before we went down.”

“Then consider this your replacement mission. If the Brazilians fire a torpedo, my submersible is too slow to evade it.”

“They don’t know you’re here?”

“We had to make this a covert rescue operation. I can’t explain why right now.”

“What can we do?” Bradley asked.

“Do those mini-torpedoes on the SDV have active warheads?”

“Yes, but we can’t fire on a friendly warship.”

“That’s not what I’m thinking. Let’s get it out of the garage. I’m driving.”

Juan opened the hatch to the hangar and found the controls for extending the cradle holding the SDV. The external cap was already pivoted to the side from when Juan entered, so the cradle motored back until it reached its limit.

The SDV was intended to be a method for SEAL teams to approach shore without being seen. It had the cigar shape of most other submarines, with a large propeller powered by rechargeable silver-zinc batteries. Unlike other subs, however, the SDV’s six seats were open to the sea, which allowed for easy ingress and egress by SEALs in their scuba gear. All electronics were sealed, but the controls were exposed to the water.

This SDV was armed with two Compact Rapid Attack Weapons, or CRAWs, which were miniature torpedoes meant for attacking small surface vessels or subs. They were mounted one to a side on fuselage clasps. With a warhead weighing just forty-five pounds, the CRAW wouldn’t inflict much damage upon a two-thousand-ton corvette even if Juan wanted to target it. But the CRAW could provide them with some defense against an anti-sub torpedo launched from the Barosso.

He and Bradley swam out of the hangar. It was too dark to see the rear escape trunk hatch, but Juan spotted the Nomad’s lights a hundred yards off the KC’s port stern. While they unmoored the SDV from the cradle, he called Max.

“Did you get the rocks cleared?”

“It was going to take hours to pick them up one at a time because they were so small, so I bulldozed the rest of them off. I told the sailors inside, and the first two crewmen are getting in the escape trunk now to evacuate. But we have a new problem.”

“The ping?” Juan asked. “I heard it.”

“We’re pretty exposed out here,” Max said. “Did you find anyone? Are you ready to go?”

“Got a sailor with me. He was the only one.”

“We’ll come pick you up, then.”

“No, take shelter by the cliff edge. We’ll come to you in the SEAL Delivery Vehicle. I’m worried that we may need it.”

When the SDV was completely detached from the cradle, Juan got into the driver’s seat while Bradley sat in the passenger seat next to him. Juan went over the joystick and trim controls. It looked like a standard mini-sub layout. He switched on the power, and the control panels on both sides lit up.

“No time to go through a checklist,” Juan said. “Are you ready?”

“Aye, sir,” Bradley replied.

Juan put it into reverse and backed away slowly from the dry deck shelter. When they were clear, he lifted from the deck and motored toward the Nomad.

He was about to tell Max that they’d escort him to a spot farther along the cliff’s edge and out of view of the Barosso when he heard a splash.

“Fish in the water!” Bradley squeaked. The effect would have been comical if they weren’t being shot at.

“Bearing?” Juan asked.

“One-seven-five.”

Right behind them. Juan swung the SDV around to put them head-on with the approaching torpedo.

“It went out and now is turning around as it descends,” Bradley said. “One thousand yards and closing fast.”

“Fire CRAW One,” Juan ordered.

Tags: Clive Cussler Oregon Files Thriller
Source: readsnovelonline.net