Ship traffic in the English Channel was almost overwhelming; it seemed to both Taggart and Mike that every ship left in northwest Europe was now trying to leave the region by taking this route, and as there was no northbound traffic Taggart moved in as close to the surf as he safely could. Larger ships would keep well away from them -- as they traveled far from the beach -- but that meant he and Mike would have to keep a close eye on the sonar to spot uncharted shoals of constantly shifting sand. If they missed just one their trip would be cut permanently short.
When they'd exited the locks at the opening of the Amsterdam Canal they were within a few yards of the Channel and so right in the thick of the so-called Channel Traffic Separation Scheme governing all commercial and military traffic in that normally very congested waterway. All transiting commercial traffic was under positive radar control so it was just about impossible for large ships to dodge small recreational vessels -- unless authorized to do so by the controllers -- but now there was the very real possibility of submarine attacks on ship traffic to add to the confusion. Reports of periscopes were being taken seriously now, and several P-3 Orion ASW aircraft were orbiting the Channel to ensure rapid response times.
As Time Bandits approached Rotterdam and the Eurozone entrance channel, Mike kept binoculars trained on the breakwater jutting out from the Hook of Holland, staring in awe at the number of ships leaving the port.
"You do know," Mike said, "that we're going to have to cross that traffic lane...which means we're going to have to shoot the gap between ships."
"Okay? What am I missing?"
"Well, there are at least three traffic lanes working now, so after we cross one we'll be seconds away from entering the next lane, and from what I can see none are maintaining constant speeds."
"Sounds like fun," Taggart sighed as he looked at the plotter. "Okay...looks like about five miles to go to the breakwater..."
...then, somewhere behind them a huge fireball appeared, and seconds later the sound reached them, a deafening crumbling roar that caused Henry to flinch; Clyde turned from the sound and hurried down the companionway, and seconds later both Dina and Rolf came charging up the steps...
"What was..." Dina tried to say...just as the shockwave hit...
Time Bandits' stern was shoved hard to the left and the bow dug into the water; Henry countered with full left rudder and she pulled out of the broach just as a wave of putrid LNG pushed through the air...
"Goddamn!" Mike shouted. "Someone got a bulk liquified natural gas ship..."
Henry flipped the radar to full-screen and he could see remnants of the blast on radar: "Can you see anything out there?" he said to Mike.
Mike lifted the binoculars to his eyes: "Two, no...make that three smaller ships on fire, and it looks like one of the P-3s is dropping on a contact..."
A cruise missile burst through the water's surface about a mile away and after it got airborne the missile turned for England and disappeared...a second later another missile launched, this one headed to a target in the channel...
"Gimme the radio," Mike said as he sat down next to the plotter. "Pan...pan...pan...two cruise missiles just launched, probable submarine location six miles north of the Hook of Holland..."
"Tiger 758 to unidentified vessel reporting launch. State your vessel type and exact location."
"Sailing vessel Time Bandits reporting from 52 07 06 North 04 01 05 East. Two cruise missiles at low altitude, one inbound London, one headed southwest down the channel."
"Bandits, are you US-flagged?"
"Affirmative. I'm retired fleet intel out of Norfolk."
"Understood."
"Okay Tiger 758, a third cruise missile is in the air now, heading due south."
"Bandits, give me a relative bearing to target."
"Three one zero relative, range still about a mile."
"Bandits, are you the southbound sailboat off the beach?"
"Affirmative."
"Recommend you take cover now."
"Rolf, get Dina below, and don't come up until I give you the all-clear," Mike said.
"Right, come on, Grandma-ma..."
"Here they come!" Mike yelled, pointing at two orange torpedos hanging from parachutes. "Get down, Henry!"
And a second later the first torpedo disappeared under the surface, the second torpedo moments later; about ten seconds passed before the surface of the sea erupted -- then billowing gouts of black smoke and red flame seemed to ignite on the surface.
"Tiger 758, that's a hard kill, repeat hard kill," Mike said over the VHF radio.
"Okay Bandits...thanks!"
Taggart stood and called out to Rolf. "Clear up here...come on up if you want."
Rolf came up and looked at the still bubbling sea. "Was that a submarine?"
"Yup," Mike replied. "They got off three cruise missiles..."