Rogue Hunter

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Captain Second Rank Dmitry Volkov raised his head and pressed his palms into the navigation table. His back straightening, he felt cloud’s lifting from his mind’s haze.

“Say that again.”

“Sir, the dolphins report a submerged contact,” the sonar operator said.

He stretched his hands to the overhead piping to squeeze blood through his cramping muscles. He absorbed the absurdity that a dozen sonar systems, twice as many radars, and lasers scouring the Sea of Azov had failed where two mammals had succeeded in discovering Ukrainian saboteurs.

“Summon the trainer.”

He watched the young sailor raise a sound-powered phone to his cheek as he rousted his shipmates to the manhunt.

“I’ve got a few people looking for him, sir. Are you sure you don’t want to page him on the open circuit?”

“You heard the dolphins,” Volkov said. “There’s a submerged contact out there. I’m not risking the noise.”

His wait proved short when the trainer stepped through the room’s forward watertight door. Lithe, the dolphins’ master slipped into the compartment with the dexterous ease of the animals he commanded. Eager eyes glared back at him.

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