Read The Final Storm for Free Online

blend of sounds, especially when there were several approaching ships. But Gifford was only nineteen, had come aboard the sub on this most recent patrol, replacing a man the captain was sorry to lose. Gifford might have the skills, but the captain knew he had not yet been under fire. He felt growing frustration, glanced up toward the hatch. They’ll be able to see something pretty soon. And we’ll get spotted ourselves if someone’s paying attention out there. Gifford had his hands clamped on the earphones, eyes closed again, shook his head. The captain watched him, thought, be certain, son. It matters. Gifford looked up at him again, a hint of fear, the telltale lack of confidence.
    “I swear … there are two ships, sir.”
    The captain slapped him on the shoulder, said, “All right, we’ll look for two ships. We’ll figure this out pretty quick.”
    He climbed the ladder to the open bridge, emerged out of the smoky heat into the soft warmth of the breeze, the exec, Gordon, making space for him.
    “Nothing to see yet, Skipper.”
    “Patience, Lieutenant.”
    To one side, Fallon had his hands clamped on the TBT binoculars,anxious, frozen in place, knowing his part in this elaborate operation. He was, after all, the eyes, would be the first man to actually see whatever it was that would soon come into visual range.
    The captain turned east, a hint of gray on the horizon, thought, all right. Time for some light on this show. He said to Gordon, “Go below, Lieutenant. Prepare to dive on my order. Sonar could be wrong about that thing being a freighter, and I sure as hell don’t want a surface fight with a destroyer. Maintain this course until we get a good look at whatever’s coming. We should intersect at about two thousand yards, but we’ll see him way before then. And sure as hell, they’ll see us.”
    Gordon moved to the hatch, descended, a clipped response.
    “Aye, sir. Preparing to dive.”
    Beside him, the young seaman seemed to jump, leaning into the mounted binoculars.
    “Got her, sir!”
    The young man knew the drill, immediately stepped aside. The captain leaned close, stared into the TBT binoculars, saw it for himself now, the low gray silhouette. He felt his heart beginning to thump, sharing the young seaman’s excitement. There was never a thrill quite like that first glimpse, when a target first appeared. The fox and the hound, he thought. Or better, the mountain lion and the deer. Yep, like that one better. Going for the throat. He kept his eye on the distant ship, reached for the microphone, said in a low voice, “Activate radar, but just for range. Make it quick.”
    He waited, then heard the words.
    “Four thousand, sir. Closing at ten knots.”
    There was a small tug in his brain, a hint of warning. Why so damn slow? A Jap merchant can make eighteen to twenty, most of ’em anyway. He could see the silhouette more clearly now, definitely a merchant ship. This is too easy. Okay, fine. Give us a gift. I’ll take it.
    He knew the calculations in his head, had been through this too many times before. The sub had approached east of the merchant ship, the light of the dawn at his back, the breaking sunlight acting as camouflage. Even on the surface, with the sub positioned straight at the merchant, it made almost no silhouette at all, and if a sharp-eyed Jap lookout saw her, it would be too late to do anything about it.
    He leaned away from the TBT, the young seaman taking over. He stepped back, stared at the horizon, the lightening sky betraying the Japanese ship to the naked eye. Now the instruments took over, the odd mechanicsthat had already plotted the target’s trajectory, range, and speed, and the ideal moment when he would give the order to fire the first spread of torpedoes. He knew that in the bow, the men had already received the order to load the six torpedo tubes, the training and the experience coming into play. He gripped the steel beside him with one hand, took the microphone