Operation Wolfe Cub: A Chilling Historical Thriller (THE TIME TO TELL Book 1) by H.C. Wells Page B
Authors: H.C. Wells
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they could before. Slowly, shades of reds and amber all across the rims of the scantly stretched clouds appeared, reminding them of their normal day-to-day lives, despite the mission they were on now.
US-1 took a double take at his instrumentation, and then tapped on the petrol gauge as if he thought it might be stuck. “Strait of Gibraltar less than fifteen kilometers, and we’re riding as scheduled with petrol low on target, Doc.”
Doc woke himself up in his chair then pinched his chin, thinking. “Shut us down, US-2…we’ll let US-1 take over.” He continued as he turned to US-1, who was catnapping. “Wake up, US-1—we need you.”
“Yes? Did I hear something about petrol?”
“No, it’s not that…prepare for a slow-running dive while US-2 finishes up.”
Just as US-2 decelerated, miles of smooth, colorful twilight ocean received the intrusions of their long-lasting rasp of exhaust, when US-2 seemed puzzled. “We still have enough petrol to get to our fueling drop in the Atlantic, don’t we? What’s wrong, Doc?”
“It’s not the fuel I’m worried about.” Doc hesitated as he kept looking outward into a sea of clear, calm nothing that shone with a beautiful, warm, crimson color. “If there’s any place for us to get in trouble, it would be at the Strait of Gibraltar. Uncertainty chains me. The beauty out there deceives me too, I must say.”
As US-1 slowly took their vessel underwater, Doc quickly instructed, “Reduce detection US-1…go to stealth propulsion, set buoyancy a few fathoms below periscope, and no lights…I want battle lights only.”
Within seconds, the dark world beneath the sea reappeared with a dim, eerie, red glow.
“Battle lights on, Doc.” US-1 quickly grabbed a spotlight handle on his far side and tested it before he softly said, “Sonar says it is clear…we are approaching the bottleneck in seven minutes.”
Doc swallowed his concern, as he tried desperately to see ahead into the abyss. “US-1, set your Naxos and Aphrodite 24 … we need to confuse enemy instruments now, if there are any out there.”
US-1 looked at his instrumentation. “But, Doc, I’m showing nothing but—”
“Just do it anyway. Set them now, I’m telling you.”
Moments later, US-1 coughed, “Doc…I was wrong…I’m reading a large object dead ahead. What should I do?”
“Plot time to intercept, US-1.”
“Looks like five minutes.”
Doc tried deciphering his instrumentation. “What in God’s name is it?”
US-1 looked closer on the screen. “I don’t know. It can’t be a ship. It’s too big…too irregular.”
Doc rattled off quickly, “Quick, shut down all controls… stealth propulsion set to
low
—now. Adjust forward trim… left…see if it reacts…well, did it react?”
“No.”
Doc stood at the edge of his chair. “Easy…easy does it now…go easy.”
While gathering whatever clues he could, Doc dared to draw a breath of fresh air. Still, nothing erroneous could be seen outside their observations, so Doc leaned closer to the dim light of US-1’s sonar screen. A green glow reflected from the instrument to his face, revealing that they weren’t in such a happy place. He didn’t really want to budge except, perhaps, to move his lips cautiously. “Trim left a little more…the battle lights are too dim to see out very far… slow it up a bit and keep scanning your spotlight, will you, US-1?”
All three of them tried desperately to look out beyond the bow of their vessel, but little could be seen through the thick wall of utter blackness coming upon them all too quickly. Inside the dim, red ray cast out by US-1’s spotlight, a few particles of seaweed floated up to the bow and over the cockpit glass.
Quickly US-1 balked, “Du-Doc! Look at this. The big object. It’s now multiple objects and they’re still dead ahead and not moving.”
Doc leaned over for a closer look. “What? Are you sure? I can’t see it, but you can?”
“Believe me
US-1 took a double take at his instrumentation, and then tapped on the petrol gauge as if he thought it might be stuck. “Strait of Gibraltar less than fifteen kilometers, and we’re riding as scheduled with petrol low on target, Doc.”
Doc woke himself up in his chair then pinched his chin, thinking. “Shut us down, US-2…we’ll let US-1 take over.” He continued as he turned to US-1, who was catnapping. “Wake up, US-1—we need you.”
“Yes? Did I hear something about petrol?”
“No, it’s not that…prepare for a slow-running dive while US-2 finishes up.”
Just as US-2 decelerated, miles of smooth, colorful twilight ocean received the intrusions of their long-lasting rasp of exhaust, when US-2 seemed puzzled. “We still have enough petrol to get to our fueling drop in the Atlantic, don’t we? What’s wrong, Doc?”
“It’s not the fuel I’m worried about.” Doc hesitated as he kept looking outward into a sea of clear, calm nothing that shone with a beautiful, warm, crimson color. “If there’s any place for us to get in trouble, it would be at the Strait of Gibraltar. Uncertainty chains me. The beauty out there deceives me too, I must say.”
As US-1 slowly took their vessel underwater, Doc quickly instructed, “Reduce detection US-1…go to stealth propulsion, set buoyancy a few fathoms below periscope, and no lights…I want battle lights only.”
Within seconds, the dark world beneath the sea reappeared with a dim, eerie, red glow.
“Battle lights on, Doc.” US-1 quickly grabbed a spotlight handle on his far side and tested it before he softly said, “Sonar says it is clear…we are approaching the bottleneck in seven minutes.”
Doc swallowed his concern, as he tried desperately to see ahead into the abyss. “US-1, set your Naxos and Aphrodite 24 … we need to confuse enemy instruments now, if there are any out there.”
US-1 looked at his instrumentation. “But, Doc, I’m showing nothing but—”
“Just do it anyway. Set them now, I’m telling you.”
Moments later, US-1 coughed, “Doc…I was wrong…I’m reading a large object dead ahead. What should I do?”
“Plot time to intercept, US-1.”
“Looks like five minutes.”
Doc tried deciphering his instrumentation. “What in God’s name is it?”
US-1 looked closer on the screen. “I don’t know. It can’t be a ship. It’s too big…too irregular.”
Doc rattled off quickly, “Quick, shut down all controls… stealth propulsion set to
low
—now. Adjust forward trim… left…see if it reacts…well, did it react?”
“No.”
Doc stood at the edge of his chair. “Easy…easy does it now…go easy.”
While gathering whatever clues he could, Doc dared to draw a breath of fresh air. Still, nothing erroneous could be seen outside their observations, so Doc leaned closer to the dim light of US-1’s sonar screen. A green glow reflected from the instrument to his face, revealing that they weren’t in such a happy place. He didn’t really want to budge except, perhaps, to move his lips cautiously. “Trim left a little more…the battle lights are too dim to see out very far… slow it up a bit and keep scanning your spotlight, will you, US-1?”
All three of them tried desperately to look out beyond the bow of their vessel, but little could be seen through the thick wall of utter blackness coming upon them all too quickly. Inside the dim, red ray cast out by US-1’s spotlight, a few particles of seaweed floated up to the bow and over the cockpit glass.
Quickly US-1 balked, “Du-Doc! Look at this. The big object. It’s now multiple objects and they’re still dead ahead and not moving.”
Doc leaned over for a closer look. “What? Are you sure? I can’t see it, but you can?”
“Believe me
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