Project Far Reach

Chapter 15 - Part 3

Chapter 15 – Part 3

The conditions aboard the submarine were claustrophobic at best. It was a strange new time for the Tress. The recent acquaintance of Bob Albrier had opened up new possibilities for their cause and especially for the ambitions of Brother Anthony. Bob was a discrete collector of old submarines.

Bob owned the Port Randy, which was the cramped sub they were traveling in. It was a fully restored world war one submarine, equipped with state-of-the-art electronics and weaponry upgrades. Being such a relatively small vessel it was very stealthy and perfectly quiet when running on electric power.

The Randy carried four standard sized torpedo bays. One of which was a small tactical vehicle capable of delivering divers and equipment into the water very quickly. The other three tubes were loaded with specially ordered Russian rounds known as super-cavitating torpedoes. The deadly rounds worked by forming a bubble layer in front of them and travel through it under rocket power. Since the warhead never encounters the harsh drag caused by touching the water they travel at over four hundred miles per hour, which was great considering normal torpedoes barely broke forty.

The real weaponry, however, was the crew it carried. Members of the Tress were trained in the art of killing. All of them were trained to fight at a level equal to that of special forces. Even the women were killers, and they were all determined. A love for nature bound them together on this crazy mission. They would no longer sit idly by and allow the dolphins to fade into history.

They drew the line here; at these tiny islands in the vast Pacific and only hell or high water would come in the way of stopping them from saving these dolphins! For now, however, it was peaceful.

Brother Anthony sat at the mess table swigging on a bottle of cold root beer and eating pork rinds. To look at him a monk was about the last thing you would imagine him as. Flaming skulls, tanks, and naked women were all drawn out in exquisite detail over his tightly chiseled muscles, and he was dotted with scars. The man was an ex-marine and it showed.

Once one joined the marines, that was it. It didn't matter if they got out. They were branded for life. In Anthony's case he was kicked out. At one time he was a great soldier. In the gulf and Afghan wars he fought countless battles. Ironically, it was at a time of peace when it all happened.

He was shipping out for three months of badly needed shore leave before starting another tour in Iraq. During the trip the vessel kept shaking violently. At one point the vibrations were so bad that he nearly fell out of his bunk when he was sleeping.

He was later shocked to find out that the sudden jolts and vibrations were being caused when the vessels collided head on with whales! The Navy coldly referred to them as 'whale impacts'.

The thought horrified him. Huge creatures that dominated the oceans for millions of year before man ventured out – destroyed in an instant. It didn't matter the size of the whale, not when he was riding in a thousand foot aircraft-carrier. The animals were smashed to bits with no chance of survival!

Anthony told his superiors, and then their superiors, until he started to notice that no one wanted to do anything about it. Frustrated, he brainstormed on a solution to the problem. Eventually he came up with the answer: ships could mount a forward facing sonar device that could detect the whales in enough advance to change course and avoid them. It seemed reasonable.

When he confronted his superiors with this new proposal they once again ignored him and did nothing. Anthony was infuriated. The next day he made a phone call that would change his life forever. It was to the press, letting them in on the problem. By the time the news hit Anthony's career was over.