Chapter 76: The Task Force

The US Navy was on the radar, maybe seventy miles directly in front of us and headed straight towards us. We were traveling south at around eight knots and they were streaming north at approximately eighteen knots. We’d meet in less than three hours.

“I think that they are trying to use the darkness to their advantage. They must think that if you cannot see them, you cannot hurt them,”

I stepped out on the bridge wing and looked into the night sky. The moon was already setting and the skies were scattered with clouds. I spotted the Chevalier Paul’s electrical signal, which had moved to our point maybe five miles ahead and slowed to match our pace.

I could feel the task force’s electronic presence, but I stared for over five minutes before I could actually see their electronic signatures. There was one larger signature, two slightly smaller ones and then four even smaller signatures.

“What should we do? They’re obviously headed straight for us,” I asked.

“Why don’t we head east and see what they do,” Captain Alfred suggested. I immediately began adjusting the spinnaker as Captain Alfred changed course.

At first, it didn’t look like they were doing anything.

“Looks like they’re changing to a new intercept course. ETA now under two hours,” he said a few minutes later.

After he confirmed their course change, Captain Alfred changed our course again. “Changing course again to southeast.”

I went to work on the sails again.

“They’re changing again as well,” he said a few minutes later. “It looks like they are definitely coming for us.”

We began changing course again, but I could tell that Captain Alfred was getting tired of playing this game. The presence of the Chevalier Paul seemed to have little effect on their pursuit. Another hour drug by and they were getting closer

“Can we talk to them?” I asked.

Captain Alfred shrugged his shoulders. “Probably. The question is, will they acknowledge?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I told him. “Just warn them that if they don’t change course, their westernmost ship will cease functioning in fifteen minutes.”

The captain got on the radio and started speaking. He repeated his message three times without a response. We waited nervously for them to change course. But they kept on coming straight towards us. Finally, I started counting it down for him as I connected with one of the smaller ship.

“It’s the USS Etowah, a Freedom-class littoral combat ship,” I told him.

Suddenly the radio crackled. ‘‘Unknown ship at... (he rattled off our coordinates). This is the US Navy. You are ordered to furl your sails and prepare to be boarded, as we have reports of terrorists in the area and need to do an inspection of your craft,” the radio crackled.

“We’re not a terrorist threat, asshole! This is the Sailing Yacht Serendipity. We’re a private French sailing catamaran with sixteen civilians on board,” the captain growled.

“Serendipity. Please heave to and prepare to be boarded,” the radio said.

“Negative, US Navy. You will not, I repeat not, approach this vessel. Do you understand?”

“Listen, Bucko. This is the United States Navy and we don’t take orders, we give orders. Now heave to before we shove a nice little Tomahawk missile up your private yacht ass.”

“Shutting down bridge control and all weapons systems on USS Etowah. Two Sea Hawk helicopters, fried,” I said without responding to the asshole on the radio.

“They’re breaking formation,” the captain said.

“You have really stepped in some big time shit now! You have attacked a fully armed US Naval Task Force. Heave to now or we will fire. In Five, four, three...,” he counted down on the radio. I didn’t wait, but instead, I fried all the electronics on all six of the other ships simultaneously. Their electronic signatures completely disappeared from our radar screen.

“Warning! Warning! Submarine approaching on your starboard bow. Range: 5,000 yards. Detect outer hull opening,” the Chevalier Paul relayed.

I began searching and quickly locked in on the sub. I searched for and immediately fried the sub’s weapon’s control systems in less than three seconds, but apparently they were able to launch two of their torpedoes.

I felt my anger rising as suddenly, both of the torpedoes erupted less than 200 yards from the sub. Moments later the submarine veered to the north and surfaced, their speed slowed to barely making way.

“One submarine disabled. Good shooting, Serendipity,” the Chevalier Paul radioed. “Captain Fourreau, the skipper says he wants to discuss this situation with you soon.”

“Tell Phillip that if he’s buying, I’m telling,” Captain Alfred said. “As soon as we reach Martinique.”

Captain Alfred and I continued to monitor the radio and the radar as we closed on their last known position. Somewhere after four o’clock the Chevalier Paul reported six smoking ships lying motionless on the sea. A seventh was slowly circling the disabled fleet, but the Chevalier Paul was unable to raise anyone. Fortunately the sea was calm.