“High financial risk if the project failed.”
“Of course,” said Glenn as he shifted his weight from side to side, preparing for the next serve. “But if this Remora Shadow thing can do what the article says, then Benton Dynamics can sell it for a major pile of money.”
I smacked the ball. Glenn returned a kill shot, retrieved the ball, and stepped into the service box. I got in position at the back of the court. We volleyed for a few minutes without speaking. Between points, I thought about how this drone might play a role in the Dupree case.
When it was my turn to serve, I asked, “So what’s this Remora Shadow do?”
“The drone attaches magnetically to submarines and the hulls of ships. It can track their locations, listen inside, and even sabotage an enemy vessel. It uses stealth technology, like F-117 fighter planes. Apparently, the prototype can absorb sonar waves and deflect other methods of detection. Practically invisible.”
“How big?”
“Smaller than a torpedo. Maybe, I don't know, ten or twelve feet long. It’s shaped like an arrowhead or a thin wedge. Sound-dampening technology keeps the propellers silent. A submarine or an underwater platform can launch it when a hostile vessel is nearby.”
Glenn readied his racquet, letting me know that he was continuing the game. The ball careened off three walls and lost momentum, which forced me to sprint to the front of the court. I tapped the ball lightly against the wall. The ball rolled out unreturnable.
Glenn asked, “You're not taking that point, are you?”
“Hey, a point’s a point. Cheap shots count.”
“All right, the gloves are off. You’re up.”
I served. After some back-and-forth volleys, the score was nine to six in Glenn’s favor.
“Hard to believe this underwater drone could find vessels at sea,” I said. “The ocean is huge. Bigger than we can imagine. The whole point of nuclear missile subs is that no one knows where they are. That makes them a deterrent.”
Glenn wiped the perspiration from his forehead. “The article on Project Transparrior didn’t show any plans or actual photos, just a general description. But the website lets readers post comments. The speculation on how this drone works was fascinating.”
“Did you print the comments?”
“Yup, they’re at the end of the article. In the comments section, some readers mentioned that subs and warships encounter each other from time to time in the open sea. If they get close enough, a U.S. ship could deploy the drone. But there were other theories.”
Glenn served the ball and racked up another point.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Apparently nuclear subs from Russia, China, and other countries pass by predictable targets along the U.S. coast. They get close to big cities and naval bases, like Norfolk and San Diego. That way, they can monitor our vessels when they leave harbor. Our listening devices on the continental shelf tell us that. If we knew when a nuclear missile sub was offshore, then the Navy could deploy the Remora Shadow and attach it to the hull.”
“Then what?” I asked.
“All kinds of things,” Glenn replied as he awaited my serve. “The drone has powerful microphones to record conversations, if it’s in the right position. It can track the movements and locations of subs and ships. Also, it can carry an explosive charge to blast through a hull.”
“Could take out a lot of enemy ships.”
“Yeah,” Glenn agreed, “and totally upset the balance of naval power.”
“I’m somewhat familiar with the law of the sea. Deploying these drones and attaching them to foreign subs would be a hostile act.”
“No doubt. This thing could start a world war.”
“Why’d this Remora Shadow end up on Project Transparrior?”
Glenn paused and tossed the ball against the floor. It bounced up against the wall and back to him. “My guess? Employees of Benton Dynamics leaked it. You’re representing one of them in court next week, right?”
“Yeah. I should’ve known you’d investigate me as well.”
“Everything’s online, including your upcoming lawsuit,” Glenn said.
I scored two more times, but Glenn was playing better than I was and soon reached match point.
He said, “Project Transparrior pretends to be legitimate journalism, but it reeks of espionage to me. They protect their sources, but your client, Marisa Dupree, was probably involved.”
Maybe I was distracted, but a minute or so later, Glenn had won the game.
“Best two out of three?” I asked.
“You bet. You serve first.”
From the service box, I said, “I’m not entirely sure my client was involved.”
“I know. You filed an answer to the complaint. You’re fighting this, huh?”
“Yeah, if I have to. This is all really good information. I doubt that I can pull together a defense in the next few days. The FBI is coming to Bridgeford Monday to take over the Kostas investigation. Marisa is sliding deeper into trouble.”
Glenn said, “Not sure that I should tell you this, so keep it just between us, even though you have trial this week. The FBI is already here. Agents arrested two Iranian college students a few days ago for activities inconsistent with their visas. The media hasn’t run anything yet. They’re in custody being questioned.”
“Who are they?”
“A young man and a woman from Tehran. The FBI collared them near Benton Dynamics. Our department is investigating their digital presence. The lady who replaced you has already obtained warrants for their computer records.”
I walked over to the door to the racquetball court and listened for anyone lurking outside. The gym was silent.
“Glenn,” I said, “if you learn anything more about that, let me know, okay?”
“You can’t say anything, Bryce. You know what position I’m in.”
“Yeah, don’t worry. I won’t say a word.”
I won the next game, and Glenn took the rubber match fifteen to eleven. I owed him beers and dinner.
Before we left the racquetball court for the locker room, I said, “An undetectable drone that can attach to ships and submarines. That would give every naval commander around the world sleepless nights. This drone could render a submarine fleet useless.”
“Nuclear missile subs would be visible
