He watched on screen as the Sutanto passed the lead ship in the convoy, Halabi’s stealth destroyer, HMS Trident. True to form, the Brits turned on a full salute. Just as typically, the Indonesians responded in a really half-assed manner, with almost nobody on deck to return the gesture. Although, given how badly shot up the boat looked, he could understand that.

“Ask the Sutanto to come around onto our heading,” he said. “We don’t need them threading their way through the convoy. They’ll run into someone for certain.”

As an ensign relayed the order, Judge walked over chewing his lip.

“It says here they only woke up five days ago, Admiral. Damiri has no idea how long they were out, but it couldn’t have been that long, could it? They’d have died of starvation or thirst.”

Kolhammer eased himself up out of a slight slouch. The Pacific stretched away forever under a diamond-hard sky. Not a single cloud floated over the dozens of ships beating their way back to Pearl.

“Well, what’s the elapsed time on the ship’s clock?”

Judge flipped over a couple of pages. He never looked happy dealing with hard copy.

“A hundred and thirty-three hours,” he said. “Close enough to six days, which don’t work for me, since we’ve been here for weeks now.”

Admiral Spruance joined them from his perch by the lee helm.

“Is there a problem?”

Kolhammer chewed his lip.

“Ensign, why is the Sutanto still coming on? She should have changed her heading by now?”

“Sorry, sir, they have the orders.”

Judge examined the printout as though he’d been handed a three-dollar note.

“I guess there could have been temporal as well spatial distortions,” he conceded, without much enthusiasm. “If the Nuku ended up on top of that mountain, I guess these guys could have been thrown out of sync, you know, timewise.”

“You don’t sound confident, Commander,” said Spruance. “Can I suggest we ask them to stop before they get even farther inside our lines?”

Kolhammer checked the screen again. The Indonesian ship was much closer than he’d expected.

“Have they increased speed?” he asked.

“Goddamn,” spat Judge.

A small, perceptible jolt ran through everyone on the bridge who’d ever had to face a jihadi suicide run.

“What’s happening?” asked Spruance, who couldn’t help but notice the tension.

“Sound to general quarters,” ordered Commander Judge. “We have a possible suicide run. All hands brace for impact.”

“Comms,” shouted Kolhammer, “patch me directly into the Sutanto right now.”

Telltale static crackled over the loudspeakers as the Sutanto’s obsolete communications net linked to the Clinton.

“Damiri, this is Admiral Kolhammer. Come to a full stop right now. Are you reading me? Come to a full stop right now or we will fire on you.”

“Turn it off,” said Damiri. “All ahead full. Allahu akbar!”