Second Captain Dishlakov was the last crewman to be removed from Peter the Great. The amazing thing was the fact that he was escorted off and into a rubber Zodiac by none other than Captain Johnson. As Dishlakov dove feetfirst into the churning sea, it was Johnson who gave him his hand and assisted him into the last boat. The two men faced each other and, having no words to say, just shook hands.
A tremendous explosion inside the sinking Peter the Great sent debris skyward. The great warship finally broke her back, and the stern section twisted to the right and started heading for the bottom of a sea so far from home that most of the survivors could not begin to fathom it.
The Zodiac carrying the last of the Russian crew to depart watched helplessly as the magnificently raked bow of the missile cruiser rose high into the air just as the stern had done, and then slowly start sliding down to her watery grave. Second Captain Dishlakov watched his life vanish before him. Johnson placed a hand on the man’s shoulder as the Zodiac turned and sped away.
As men assisted the survivors aboard the Simbirsk, all attention was now focused on saving USS Shiloh from suffering the same fate as Peter the Great. Her stern was a wreck. The Russian weaponry had managed to punch a hole near her engine spaces, and she was down at the fantail. Her crew was fighting gallantly to save their ship, but from Jack’s perspective, she was fighting a losing battle. Even with damage control crewmen from Houston assisting, Shiloh was going to lose that fight. Collins came to a conclusion that no one was going to like. He turned to Everett.
“Swabby, we can’t take a chance that when we make the attempt to get home, Shiloh won’t break in two during the phase shift. She couldn’t stand the pounding. But you know more about what these cruisers are made up of more than I do. What do you think?”
Carl assisted one of the crewmen from Peter the Great over the railing and then wiped sweat from his brow. He shook his head.
“I say pile everyone on board Simbirsk and Houston and we get the hell out of here.”
Jack concurred. He didn’t look forward to telling Captain Johnson that he was going to have to scuttle his ship. “Get on the horn and inform Captains Dishlakov, Johnson, and Thorne what the plan is.”
Everett nodded and then went to deliver the worst news any commander could ever hear: abandon your efforts to save your ship.
Jack breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Charlie Ellenshaw as he stepped onto the deck of Simbirsk. He watched as Ellenshaw accepted the children saved from the island. Jenks was last to come aboard with the ten marines. He quietly thanked God that none of the landing team was lost. Not that Jenks and Charlie weren’t in trouble anyway, but that would wait for a better time. Jack approached, and Charlie held up a hand before the colonel could speak.
“It was my idea, Colonel.”
“Bullshit, Chuck. It was me,” Jenks countered.
“No, sir, I take full responsibility,” said the lance corporal as he saluted Jack.
Collins only shook his head. He then looked at the six frightened children crowded around Jenks. They were holding his legs as if to keep him from running away. Jack’s anger evaporated as quickly as it came on.
“We’ll discuss this later. Jenks, I need you and Charlie to get below and monitor that phase shift equipment.” He looked around and saw the strange weather pattern that was rapidly developing. The heavy clouds were starting to circle in a most unfamiliar pattern. “And take this ass-hat with you,” he said as he lightly kicked at the man sitting at his feet. Salkukoff said nothing as he was lifted from his feet by two of the American marines. “Chain him up down there, because if anyone survives this thing, I want it to be him. I’m sure his testimony will be rather informative when we get back home.”
“Personally, I think we should leave the bastard here with his fish-faced pirate friends,” Jenks said as he unceremoniously lifted Salkukoff from the deck. The children, with their natural instincts, moved away from Salkukoff and went to Charlie for their protection.
“Charlie, get the children to the empty armory; that will provide them with the best protection when and if this thing goes off.”
Charlie started herding the children away as Jenks pushed Salkukoff toward the hatchway. The Russian stopped and with manacled wrists shook off Jenks’s hold and turned and faced Jack.
“Even if you manage to control the phase shift, do you think bringing me back in chains will do anything to stop our movement?”
Jack smiled as he watched the caged rat before him. “We have some pretty dedicated people from both sides of the Atlantic that will do just that. These men are pretty good at exposing things. I guess we’ll just have to see how your countrymen feel about it when this whole thing goes public.” Jack turned away and then stopped and faced Salkukoff once more. “That is if your own sailors don’t string you up first.”
Salkukoff was about to say something when he noticed the men of his own nation’s navy were staring at him. They had murderous eyes, and their intent was clear. Salkukoff decided to stay quiet. He was pulled into the hatchway by Jenks.
“You know, someday our luck is going to run for cover the way we push it,” Ryan said as he joined Jack.
“Commander, I think our luck ran out when we lost so many during Overlord. I think we’re due a break where luck is concerned.”
“You have a point.”
Farbeaux joined them, and Jack saw the pistol in Henri’s right hand. He charged the weapon as he fixed Collins with that glare that was quickly becoming famous. He could see that the Frenchman was ready to fulfill the task he had been given by the American president and the head of MI6.
“I don’t know if you gentlemen have noticed, but we seem to have developed a rather strange weather pattern in the last half hour.”
Jack and Ryan looked around them and saw that vapor was rising from the sea and going straight up into the air. Before Jack could comment, he got a call on his radio. It was Captain Thorne. Collins lifted his radio and then turned and saw Thorne atop the Houston’s conning tower.
“Collins,” he said.
“Colonel, we are picking up a rise in ambient water temperature. Electrostatic discharge is increasing. From your brief, these look like the same readings we got the last time that shipwreck started to speak.”
Jack looked into the sky and saw that the rate of darkness was increasing. “As of right now, we believe the phase shift engine is disabled. We should know more in the next few minutes. Captain, is Houston capable of diving?”
“Negative. We shot our wad just getting up here. Houston’s diving days are done for now.”
“Captain, we need to get Houston tied down to Simbirsk. When this thing pops, it could crush your boat with her expanding wave of electromagnetic discharge.”
“That doesn’t sound fun. I agree. We can’t take another shot like the first one. This time around she’ll just buckle.”
“How many survivors can you take on from Peter the Great and Shiloh?”
“Hell, we can fit two hundred if we have to. We’re not diving, and our fighting days are done. Too much damage to our systems. We can shove survivors into torpedo tubes if need be.”
“Good. We’ll start transferring men over in the next few minutes. We can’t have everyone in one basket. No personnel above decks or near bulkheads when the phase shift happens.”
“Roger, we’ll be here. Thorne out.”
Jack lowered the radio and saw Captain Johnson approach. Everett was shaking his head as he brought up the rear.
“Why did I just have to order my crew off Shiloh?” Johnson asked. “We can still save her.”
“Captain, I appreciate your position. I know your ship is just as important to you as was Peter the Great to Second Captain Dishlakov, but she would never be able to stand the pounding of the shift. You’ll lose her. We already have a sub that can’t dive that may be blown apart by the power of this engine.”
“But—”
“Sorry, Captain, but this is my call. No more is to be risked.”
“I have one request, Colonel Collins,” Dishlakov said, breaking into the objections by Johnson. Jack waited. “My men and I will take full responsibility, but we cannot allow that man to return with us.”
“By ‘that man,’ I suppose you mean Salkukoff?”
“Yes,” came the blunt and angry answer.
“He’s needed back home, Captain.”
Dishlakov was angered, but his objection was interrupted by Charlie as he broke from the hatchway. He was gesturing wildly as he ran toward the officers.
“Get everyone below!”
“Doc, calm down,” Carl said as he took hold of Ellenshaw.
“Europa was smashed during the battle, and she’s not in control of the phase shift engine. The master chief says she’s about to blow her top. She’s getting ready to transition again.”
“Damn it,” Jack said as he raised the radio and handed it to Johnson. “Order Shiloh abandoned, now.”
Johnson saw the fear in the colonel’s eyes and accepted the radio and started giving orders. Then he handed the radio back, and he and Dishlakov ran to expedite the order themselves.
“Captain Thorne, this thing is about to blast off, and we are nowhere near ready. Do you have a working torpedo?”
“One and one only. We lost the ability to get air pressure into the tubes on our latest ascent. But yes, we do.”
“As soon as the all clear is given, put one into Shiloh.”
The silence from Thorne was long. Jack knew the captain was having a hard time coming to grips with scuttling the proud missile cruiser.
“I wish you had given me any order but that one.” Again, silence for thirty seconds. “Will do. Awaiting signal.”
A streak of lightning illuminated the darkening skies. As they watched, the clouds began circling at a much faster rate.
“Jesus!” Ryan yelled as he quickly removed his hands from the steel railing. “Electricity is coursing through this ship.”
“We don’t have the time we need,” Jack said as he faced Everett and Henri. “Get everyone belowdecks.” He raised the radio. “Plans have changed, Captain. Get your crew belowdecks and into the most protected areas you can. Captain Thorne, abort the plan; Shiloh has to ride out the storm.”
The wind picked up by forty miles per hour as the still-flaming Shiloh started sounding her emergency warning horns. Jack saw the crew of Shiloh start to abandon their fire hoses and start belowdecks. There were still over a hundred men aboard her.
“Jenks, where do we stand?” he asked into the radio.
“This thing is ramping up, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. It’s like it has a mind of its own. I’ve pulled every coil I could, but that didn’t buy us any time. She’s powering up, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it short of sinking this relic.”
Another deep rumble and the sky above them burst forth with the greatest electrical display anyone had ever seen. The seas became choppy, and the violet-colored water started coming over the side of Simbirsk in waves. The sky was swirling in that sickening pattern they had all seen before. It looked as if they could see the mist of ocean rising into the sky as if reinforcing the storm high above. Men above decks were getting shocked as they grasped railings and other steel parts of the exposed ship.
“Get below!” Everett screamed at the men who had assisted the last of Peter the Great’s crew aboard.
Henri was pushing and screaming in Russian for the men to protect themselves.
Jack figured they had two hundred survivors aboard Simbirsk and over three hundred on the heavily damaged Shiloh. Thorne had picked up another hundred and secured them below. They were flat out of time.
“We got to go, Jack!” Everett said as he held the hatchway open. Henri got the last of the Russian personnel below and then turned with Everett and waited for the colonel.
“That’s it, Colonel,” Ryan said. “We’ve done all we can!” he said, trying to raise his voice over the power of the rapidly developing storm.
Collins looked up as the heavy rain began, and it was déjà vu all over again. Water was rising into the sky, and electrical discharge raced through the black clouds that expanded into an even wider pattern. He could feel the Simbirsk pulsing under his feet. He looked toward Houston and saw that Thorne was still up top and was easing Houston closer to Simbirsk. He pushed Ryan toward the stern of the Russian ship.
“Come on—we have to tie off Houston to Simbirsk; otherwise, the phase shift forces will rip her apart.”
Jack and Ryan fought with the heavy ropes as the deck crew of Houston tossed the ropes that would secure her to Simbirsk. They were soon joined by several marines and sailors as they disobeyed orders and the team braved the killing elements of the storm as they fought with the heavy lines. Everett was there with Henri, and they finally managed to secure Houston for their ride home—hopefully.
With a last look at Shiloh and Captain Johnson as he vanished into the bridge section of the still-flaming Shiloh, Jack realized that they were as ready as they would ever be. How many more men would they lose with the unstable phase shift? He couldn’t calculate the odds that they would all make it back. He raised the radio once last time.
“Houston, check in.”
“Houston is ready,” Thorne said as he vanished below the conning tower and into the deepest sections of the submarine.
He looked toward the burning Shiloh. “Captain Johnson, are you secure?”
“I’ll never be secure again, but for now, we’re as secure as we can get. I hope you don’t mind if I place a complaint on your methods of transportation?”
“You’ll have to stand in line for that, Captain. Good luck. Jenks?”
“Jenks here,” came the hurried reply.
“Abandon the engine spaces and get as far belowdecks as the rest.”
“What about this Ruskie?”
Jack nodded at Henri. “I have someone coming down to take charge of that.”
“Roger, I am so outta here!” Jenks said as the radio went dead. Jack shook it, but there was nothing. The electromagnetic pulse was flaring to life.
The skies overhead circled at a speed that was terrifying. Collins took Henri by the arm.
“If it looks like we might not make it, follow your orders. That bastard doesn’t deserve the same fate as these men. Put a bullet where it belongs.”
Henri only nodded as he, Everett, Ryan, and Jack turned and made for the open hatchway.
Simbirsk, Shiloh, and Houston started to move in a wide circle as the storm magnified the power of the phase shift.
For twenty miles around the tethered ships, the sea shot straight into the air and then settled once more as the buildup to the shift became unstoppable. The engine was so powerful that it changed the very fabric of the atmosphere.
Jack and the others, with the exception of Farbeaux, went to the battle bridge and made sure to stay away from the solid steel bulkheads. Henri went below with the intention of finishing what it was they were here for.
Once again all three vessels started getting pliable and warped beneath the onslaught of the shift.
The sky exploded overhead, and then the two elements met in an explosion of the magnitude of a detonating nuclear warhead.
Phase shift occurred less than four seconds after.
* * *
Jack saw the ship turn almost transparent. This time, his senses had not been caught off guard as they had been on the initial phase shift. He felt the deck beneath his feet grow soft and pliant, but he didn’t fight the strange sensation and allowed his feet to remain planted. Everett made the mistake of touching the old helmsman’s station, and his hand went completely through it. He lost his balance, but Ryan stopped his fall. Both men felt the nausea running through them. It hit Jack next. He felt his gorge rise, and his brain felt like it had exploded with a massive headache. All around him, the world spun.
Belowdecks, Jenks and Charlie were with the six orphaned children of Compton’s Reef as they huddled with the rest of the Russian and British crew of Simbirsk. Just before the phase shift started, Jenks had herded everyone he could into the solid steel armory. It was a tight squeeze, but everyone had made it in. Even Second Captain Dishlakov, with pistol out, was standing over a sitting Salkukoff and his remaining three men. Two of the Russian marines from Peter the Great also had him covered. As far as Dishlakov was concerned, Salkukoff was going to pay one way or the other for his treachery.
Jenks was watching Henri Farbeaux just as the transition of the phase shift started. The master chief didn’t really care for the look in the Frenchman’s eyes. He stood, unlike the others, as if he were a burglar waiting for the lights to go out. With his suspicions on Henri’s intent, he pulled the children closer to him. Charlie Ellenshaw had the inspiration to place a large rubber mat absconded from the mess facilities of the Simbirsk on the steel deck in the hopes it would provide the children with some comfort for the short but miserable ride back.
Then the effects hit with a shock to everyone’s senses. The children froze as first the wave of nausea hit them and then the sick feeling of electricity coursed through their small bodies. Jenks was proud as the children hugged him and held on, not making a sound. Then the bulkheads seemed to vanish, and it was like they were sitting on the ocean’s surface. It was still violet in color. The illusion was so real, it seemed Jenks could just reach out and place a hand on its cold surface.
“Oh, God,” Charlie said as he felt his backside slowly sink into the steel hull.
It was Dishlakov who saved Charlie from becoming a permanent fixture of Simbirsk. He reached out, grabbing Charlie’s hand and losing his Makarov pistol at the same time. He pulled for all he was worth and caught the professor just as the hull resolidified. Then the armory was filled with all the colors of the rainbow, and every man inside the battle cruiser felt the falling rain from the storm outside the confines of the phase shift. None of them knew it but would later guess that at that very moment they had begun to transition from one world to the next.
When the thunderous sound of static electricity filing the armory, Henri felt his vision go into a tunnel effect as he again lost his balance and fell forward. The pistol he had hidden behind his back flew from his hand as a fast-thinking Russian sailor reached for Farbeaux just after he came into contact with the deck. The young man pulled Henri in and held on for dear life and with a silent prayer to a God that might not even inhabit this bizarre world.
Dishlakov still had his back turned when Salkukoff saw Henri lose his weapon. Thinking quickly and with a murderer’s eye for survival, he reached out and with a booted foot slid the pistol toward him. One of his last remaining men saw what he was attempting and assisted by kicking the nine millimeter behind Salkukoff far enough to where he could grasp it with his manacled hand. Before he could congratulate himself, a large hand circled around his wrist, and he felt the bone snap.
A large Russian sailor with a machinist rank embroidered on his sleeve stood above Salkukoff and shook his head as the smaller man held back his scream of anger and pain. Salkukoff looked away when he saw that his fellow countryman would have no qualms of crushing the life right out of him.
Before the large Russian could seat himself again, the world around them flared to white light, and then they and the battle cruiser Simbirsk disappeared.
* * *
In the battle bridge, Jack felt his legs grow weak as he tried to focus his attention on Ryan and Everett. The bridge suddenly flared to brilliant life and sound. Collins felt his ears pop several times in rapid succession. Multicolored bands of light filled the bridge like an expanding fan, and then the world just vanished.
OPERATION REFORGER IV
NORTH ATLANTIC
Will Mendenhall stood with Dutch Admiral Andersson and Captain McAvoy on the bridge wing of Nimitz. The search for the missing ships had found nothing. They discovered wreckage from the destroyer De Zeven, but thus far that had been it. F-18 Hornets crisscrossed the skies as the search continued.
Will felt his patience at the slow progress of the search growing thin. He had been aboard for only one full day and thus far had not one good thing to pass on to the Group about their chances of finding their missing ships and their friends. He wiped his face in frustration. His angered disposition was interrupted by a messenger who passed along a message flimsy to Admiral Andersson. He read it and then gave it over to Captain McAvoy.
“How far out are they?” McAvoy asked the messenger.
“Radar places them three hundred miles from our battle group. We also have the Russians asking permission to join the search.”
Admiral Andersson turned his attention to the four Russian cruisers and the five helicopters that had joined them the previous day. Needless to say, feelings were running high and tensions even higher.
“Another group?” he asked.
“Yes, sir, this group consists of Russian high brass.”
“That’s all we need,” Andersson said as he looked at Will Mendenhall. “You don’t have anything to do with this first group, do you?”
“Look, Admiral, you got a copy of my orders. I’m here to observe, and that’s all I know.”
The admiral looked at the army officer with skepticism. “And this second group of Russians? Nothing there either?”
“No, sir, I have no idea.”
Another runner popped his head into the bridge wing.
“Captain, CIC is reporting a rise in sea temperature, and winds are increasing. They recommend bringing in our CAP and search aircraft.”
“Do so, will you, Captain? This is starting to have a familiar ring to it.”
Will didn’t know exactly what it was they were speaking of. Then lightning lit up the already bright afternoon sky. He ducked as the bolts hit in several locations simultaneously.
Suddenly, Nimitz rocked on her keel. Waves began to hit the large warship with punishing blows. Men hurried to secure exposed aircraft, as the weather had turned so suddenly that Andersson and McAvoy became aware that whatever was happening was a familiar scenario as when they had lost ships from both the Russian side and their own.
“Admiral, we have massive activity thirty miles to the north,” the announcement came. The admiral looked through his field glasses and saw the large swell of sea and the circling clouds above it. Before he knew what to say or order, the world came crashing inward. The black clouds to the north burst down into the sea.
Will Mendenhall saw what was happening, and his tension ratcheted up with the other officers on board.
Then it happened. They saw the wall of water as it came in from the north. It swelled and then dropped. It rose and then fell. The actions made the Nimitz rise and fall with the seas. Mendenhall hung on for everything he was worth. Then the sound of ten thousand exploding bombs erupted around them. The sun was blotted out, and even the Russian ships that had joined them in their search one day ago had to turn their ships into the wind and swells. The sea once more settled, and just when they thought the event was over, the giant carrier rode high on a wave and then came crashing down with steel-wrenching power. Then all was silent.
Andersson was helped to his feet by Mendenhall, who was more confused by what just happened than anyone aboard.
“What in the hell just happened?” Will asked as McAvoy also rose back to his feet. He only shook his head.
“Captain, CIC, we have three new contacts on radar, thirty-five miles out, bearing three-one-seven degrees.”
McAvoy picked up the bridge phone. “Speed and course?”
“Zero speed, zero course; they’re just sitting there.”
“How is my air cover?”
“Shaken but still in the air.”
“Get me some eyes on target.”
“Vectoring search aircraft now.”
“Also order cruisers Sheffield and Saratoga forward toward the contact. Patch the CAP communications directly to us.”
“Aye, patching through communications.”
As they waited, Will couldn’t help but shake his head. Three contacts for six missing vessels was not a good sign. All he could do was pray for his missing friends. The wait was agonizing.
“Rough Rider One, this is Ghost Lead, over.”
“Ghost Lead, this is Rough Rider, over.”
The three officers waited as the radio played out their hopeful song.
“Rough Rider, we have three ships in bad shape. One of them is the Houston, one is Shiloh, and the third is not identifiable.”
McAvoy picked up the bridge phone once more. “All rescue elements head to target area, all ahead flank. Bring Nimitz into the wind. I want alert one fighters in the air in five. Rescue choppers launch immediately. All medical teams stand by for immediate transport. I want five damage control teams ready to board the damaged ships. All stations, general quarters. Communications, inform the Russian search elements of the situation, but warn them to stay clear, as we have air operations close aboard. Get off a secure communiqué to NATO command; inform them of the situation and ask for instructions in dealing with our Russian friends.”
McAvoy relayed the request from Andersson.
“Rough Rider, this is Ghost Lead, over.”
“Go, Ghost Lead, over,” answered the CIC.
“We see survivors taking to the open decks, over.”
Will Mendenhall closed his eyes, hoping that Jack, Carl, Jenks, Charlie, and even Farbeaux were among those survivors.
“Go ahead, son, and grab some flight gear and catch one of the medical choppers. Army officers give me hay fever anyway.”
Will smiled and then saluted the Dutch admiral and left the bridge just as the general quarters alarm started flaring to life.
The USS Nimitz turned into the wind, and F-18 fighters and Seahawk helicopters started lifting free of her expansive deck.
The search had suddenly turned into rescue operations, and every man aboard was grateful for that.
Over twenty miles away to the south, fifteen Russian warships turned toward the rescue site as well.
The real confrontation was about to start.
* * *
Mendenhall was amazed at the scene. Circling helicopters from Nimitz and the missile cruiser USS Ticonderoga were busy dropping men and firefighting equipment onto the decks of both Houston and Shiloh. Will saw that none of the assets were headed for the old Russian cruiser, which was currently listing at least ten degrees to her port side.
As the Seahawk circled, he examined the damage to Shiloh and figured that she would never face the open sea again. Her stern was completely gone up to the aft missile battery. She was aflame, and before a search for any survivors could begin, they had to take control of her fires.
Finally, they saw the first of Shiloh’s seamen emerge from belowdecks. Will stopped counting when he reached a hundred. He whistled and then heard the copilot exclaim that they had movement on Houston. Mendenhall saw who he assumed to be Houston’s Captain Thorne in the high conning tower gesturing that their damage control efforts should be concentrated on Shiloh’s condition.
Mendenhall spoke into the mic on his helmet. “No radio communication?”
The copilot turned in his seat and just shook his head.
“The Simbirsk, set me down there.”
“No can do, sir—no place to land this thing. We would have to winch you down. Besides, we have orders to stay clear of the Russian vessel by NATO command.”
“Damn it, I need to get down there!” Will said as he came close to losing his patience with cautionary orders from NATO brass. He knew if his friends survived, they would have been right in the thick of it. “Look, get me closer for a look-see.”
Mendenhall couldn’t believe what it was he was contemplating.
The Seahawk swung low over the water and approached Simbirsk from the stern. It hovered momentarily as the pilot examined the fantail for a safe landing zone for later. Will saw his opportunity. He unsnapped his harness, and then, tossing the helmet aside, he pushed his way past the naval crew chief.
“Captain, what in the hell are you—”
That was as far as the crew chief got as Will went through the open doorway and fell feetfirst into the choppy sea. With the weather clearing, he knew he stood at least a fifty-fifty chance of surviving.
“What in the hell?” the pilot said as he felt the sudden shift of weight to his bird.
“I can’t believe it; that army captain just jumped overboard.”
The pilot veered the Seahawk away from Simbirsk and rose back into the sky to see if they could get eyes on Mendenhall.
“Damn army’s full of nuts these days!” the pilot growled.
* * *
Mendenhall found the gangway. It looked as if it had just been laid down for him. He slowly brought himself out of the water and climbed. Remembering the photo from the Eldridge file, he removed his nine millimeter from his shoulder holster as he took the steps two at a time.
Will had just made it to the main deck when he saw the blood. It looked as if a major action had taken place not long before, and as he realized this, his heart began to sink. The sun broke free of the cloud cover as the skies rapidly cleared of rain and wind.
Mendenhall almost screamed when a bullhorn sounded from somewhere up above him.
“Who gave you permission to board this ship, mister?”
“Ah!” he said as his eyes went high.
Everett smiled from on high as he was joined by the colonel and Ryan.
“A little late for the prom, aren’t you?” Ryan yelled down.
Mendenhall was very tempted to raise the nine millimeter and point it at Jason, but he smiled instead and then holstered his weapon. He closed his eyes in silent thanks for getting his friends back home again.
“If you guys are done yachting, can we go home now?”
* * *
Four hours later, the rescue was complete. Admiral Andersson had ordered Shiloh to be taken in tow, and she was mated with her sister Aegis missile cruiser, Ticonderoga, and was already sliding lazily through the sea alongside Nimitz.
With the assistance of the engineering departments of both Ticonderoga and Nimitz, Houston was able to restore power to her planes and her defensive systems. She couldn’t dive, but that didn’t faze the crew one bit; they were ready to head for Norfolk and home. She was pacing the battle group as they turned south with the Simbirsk in tow by the naval support ship, USS Hannaford. The submarine was under guard with the German destroyer Lutjens and the Dutch frigate Vulcan riding shotgun until she could see her home port once more.
The officers of all combat vessels involved in the incident were safely transported to Nimitz. Jack, Carl, Jason, a bruised Henri Farbeaux, and Charlie Ellenshaw joined by Captain Johnson, Second Captain Dishlakov, and Captain Thorne sat tiredly inside a closed-off section of the hangar deck. A manacled Salkukoff sat in a chair in a far corner, having his broken wrist looked after by a navy corpsman. His remaining men were ensconced in Nimitz’s rather barren brig, guarded by angry marines.
Coffee and sandwiches were passed around much to the relief of the extremely hungry men.
“Where is Jenks?” Jack asked as he took a heavenly bite of a chicken sandwich.
Charlie, looking haggard and less enthusiastic about joining field teams ever again, sipped coffee and looked at Jack.
“The children wouldn’t let him go. He is with them right now in sick bay. He said he would join us as soon as he can.” Charlie again took a sip of coffee and then looked back at the colonel. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I would think that the master chief actually found something he doesn’t despise outside of Virginia.” He smiled. “It’s kind of creepy seeing him with those kids—it’s like he respects them or something.”
Collins smiled and patted Ellenshaw on the back.
“Don’t worry, Doc. I’m sure he’ll be back to his old self once we get home, all miserable and grumpy again.”
“Yeah,” Charlie said, perking up at the prospect of Jenks becoming nonhuman once again.
“Attention!” one of the marine guards called out.
All but Charlie stood as Admiral Andersson and Captain McAvoy entered the sealed hangar deck.
“At ease, gentlemen, at ease,” Andersson said as he went from man to man with the captain of Nimitz and shook each man’s hand.
“I can’t imagine what you have been through. You’re back in safe hands now.” Andersson nodded at the marine guard, and the two left the hangar deck and sealed it once more. “Gentlemen, please, take a seat.” The admiral took an offered chair from McAvoy, and both men sat and faced those who had come back from the grave. “First off, this is not a debrief. That will be conducted at Norfolk. We are here for another reason. We are about to be joined by my counterpart in the Red Banner Northern Fleet and other representatives of the Russian government. We also have NATO representatives arriving in minutes. I just wanted to warn you that the proceedings could get”—he leaned over and whispered into the ear of McAvoy—“as you Americans say, nasty. At the moment, we have three Kirov-class missile cruisers and five destroyers heading our way. They asked permission to board, and on orders from the president of the United States, I have given my permission.”
Jack looked over at Salkukoff and saw he was paying attention, and he didn’t like the look of relief he saw there. He looked at Henri, who had also noticed the look of satisfaction. He had explained to Jack that Salkukoff was nearing his end when the phase shift hit and he had lost his opportunity.
“Stand by to recover rotary aircraft,” came the loud announcement from above them.
“I expect that is our guests arriving,” Andersson said.
“Admiral, may I ask the condition and disposition of my remaining crew?” Dishlakov asked.
“Second Captain, I assure you they are being well treated and fed.”
“Inside your brig, perhaps?” Dishlakov asked with doubt framing the question.
“Your crew is with the remaining marines and sailors of Shiloh. As I said, your brave crew is being well treated. I don’t think we could separate the crews even if we wanted to.”
Dishlakov nodded.
The large panel door opened, and a US Marine stepped inside and allowed four men to enter. Then the large marine approached Admiral Andersson.
“Admiral, your guests have arrived.”
Anderson and McAvoy both rose and stood erect as they faced the four civilian-dressed Russians.
“I am Admiral Andersson—”
“Yes, Admiral, we are well aware of who you are, sir. Your commission in the Dutch navy has not gone unnoticed, especially being named to this farce called Operation Reforger IV. It would seem that when it comes to legalities, the Americans would prefer an officer from another country to take the fall; thus, they named you as overall commander. A convenient scapegoat.”
Andersson sat instead of remaining standing. He was told to expect that the Russians would be in a position of accusation.
“I am Dr. Leoniv Vassick. My colleagues are General Komsky, General Petrovsky, and Dr. Anton Garlitz.” The three other men didn’t have the courtesy to nod. They just stood behind the speaker, Vassick.
“I am told you are here to explain why it is you fired on our naval assets three days ago?” Andersson said with a neutral face.
The middle-aged man with silvering hair and the impressive man in the black suit smiled and then took a seat, and the other two Russians quickly followed suit.
“Let us not play games here, Admiral. You know we are here to take back Russian state property. We will not leave this area without the Simbirsk in tow. If you refuse our request, we have the naval firepower to assist us in this endeavor.” The man looked purposefully over at the line of chairs and then at Jack in particular. His eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary before moving away. “But let us not be militaristic here, Admiral. We need not resort to such horrid conclusions as open warfare. Just surrender our property, and we shall return to our shores, and our friendship will still be intact.”
“And what of your man over there who caused the death of over three hundred of my crew aboard Peter the Great? He also has to answer for the cold-blooded murder of fellow Russian scientist Gervais and Captain Kreshenko, who this man murdered in his sleep.”
All eyes went to Second Captain Dishlakov as he suddenly stood and pointed toward the seated and handcuffed Salkukoff.
“This matter will be taken up upon our return home. Colonel Salkukoff will answer to us and us alone.” The words from Leonid Vassick were uttered in a cold and calculated voice, but Jack could see that the coldness was not directed at Salkukoff but was pointedly aimed at Second Captain Dishlakov. Jack figured this whole disaster would be placed squarely on the shoulders of the expendable second captain.
“They’re going to hang everything on Dishlakov, Jack,” Carl whispered beside him.
Collins merely nodded, as he had become used to he and Everett coming to the same conclusions in roughly the same time frame. In other words, they were both becoming experts at smelling out a rat.
“Now, Admiral, the business at hand is our state property and your willingness to acquiesce to our demand.”
To his credit, Admiral Andersson, an old salt at seeing the truth of Russian threats and statements, remained silent and noncommittal. Instead of answering, he nodded toward Second Captain Dishlakov.
“We have the testimony of not only the second captain here but the testimony of your deceased Captain Kreshenko.” For emphasis, Admiral Andersson gestured to Captain McAvoy, who held up the logbook of Peter the Great. “In these pages, you will find the true culprit of this sordid tale. One of murder and international interference from an unknown entity inside your government. It seems even Captain Kreshenko had his doubts about your Colonel Salkukoff’s motives and his disposition to the well-being and safety of his own citizens.”
“That logbook is also Russian state property. Second Captain Dishlakov has once again proven his disloyalty. It is a crime to turn this or any Russian naval logbook over to any Western power.”
“I gave the logbook to the admiral.”
All eyes went to Henri Farbeaux, who stood from his chair. Jack and Everett were caught off guard. Ryan silently whistled under his breath.
“I removed it from the captain’s quarters the night he was murdered by this man.”
“Once a thief, always a thief. Isn’t that right, Colonel Farbeaux? Believe me, your actions in this matter have been discussed at the highest levels of our government,” Vassick said as he brushed at nonexistent lint on his pant leg. The other Russians remained silent.
Henri, instead of answering to his charge, merely smiled and half bowed to his Russian accuser.
“Regardless, as the corresponding international agreements on salvage, this logbook is now the property of The Hague, where it will be entered into evidence for our forthcoming fight over the rights of the sea and salvage.”
Vassick huffed and smiled. “I gather you have not received information from your outer naval pickets of our intent to regain that which is ours. One of the more powerful Russian fleets in years is sitting on your doorstep with the intention of either escorting Simbirsk back home, or, in the failure of that, sinking her and any other vessel that is making the attempt to steal her.”
“Threats at this late date, Doctor? Do you think NATO will allow that fleet to get anywhere near this group?”
Jack didn’t care for the way this confrontation was heading. The threats of war erupting over this ancient experiment were getting out of hand. He felt powerless to stop it.
“We will retake our property, Admiral,” Vassick repeated, reinforcing the standoff.
Again, a US Marine entered the hangar deck and made his way to Captain McAvoy and handed him a message flimsy. The captain read it once and then twice. His brows rose, and then he handed the flimsy to the admiral, who also took his time reading it. He folded the message and then nodded at the marine, who left abruptly. Almost simultaneously, two marines brought in two more folding chairs and placed them directly in front of the Russian contingent.
“Gentlemen, with the exception of Colonel Collins, Captain Everett, Colonel Farbeaux, and Second Captain Dishlakov, would you please excuse us?” The admiral looked taken back for some reason. Jack and Carl exchanged looks that said they were just as confused as Admiral Andersson, who rose with the others and followed Captain McAvoy from the closed-off section of the hangar deck. Overhead, the ominous sound of F-18 Hornets and F-35 fighters being launched into the sky rumbled in the cavernous hangar. Suddenly, it was Jack, Carl, Henri, and Dishlakov sitting alone with the Russians. The room was silent except for what sounded like increased activity on the flight deck high above them.
The hatchway opened once more, and then two marines appeared and, with little effort involved, assisted a wheelchair-bound man over the hatch coming. The small, dark-haired man nodded his thanks and then rolled into the room.
Again, Jack and Carl exchanged looks of confusion as Dr. Xavier Morales rolled to a stop in front of the Russian contingent.
The room was silent as the next two people entered. Jack felt his jaw muscles seize up as he saw his own director, Niles Compton, with cane in hand as he stepped into the hangar. Then he was followed by none other than Virginia Pollock. Both went to the chairs that had been placed for them. All three faced the Russian contingent. The director was dressed in a plain blue suit and Virginia in a pantsuit that held for the viewer nothing but a business impression. Xavier was dressed in simple slacks and even had a tie on. Crooked, Jack saw, but a tie nonetheless.
Vassick smiled and then turned to his companions and said something in Russian. The others nodded. The first marine to have entered returned with a large-screen monitor absconded from the admiral’s quarters. He placed it on a steel rolling table and then left the hangar. The room became deathly silent as everyone, including Jack, Carl, Henri, and even the Russians, was confused at this sudden change of personnel onto this politically charged stage. Jack didn’t know it, but the three people had flown supersonic over the continental United States and then transferred to four of the navy’s newest jump jets, the F-35, and again flew supersonic to get out here to the North Atlantic.
Virginia stunned and silenced the Russians by saying something in their native tongue to their guests. They saw Vassick raise a brow and then nod his head in agreement to something she said. Niles remained silent as he studied his counterpart across from him.
“Yes, Doctor, we can speak English, if that is what you prefer. We know your Drs. Compton and Morales do not speak our language, and we do so need their input in the upcoming matters.”
Virginia nodded and then went silent as both groups observed the other. It was Niles who cleared his throat and then placed his small case on the steel deck.
“You seem to know all about us, Dr. Vassick.”
“For years, Dr. Compton, it has been my duty to learn such things. Perhaps you have a particular understanding of that?”
Compton said nothing. Instead he looked with his one good eye at the men before him.
“I am here at the authorization of the president of the United States, who has tasked me with the duties we will describe here in a few minutes. May I ask, sir, who you represent?”
Vassick smiled as the game began. “Of course. I am here representing the rights of the Russian people and that of our shared heritage. Thus, we want our property back.”
Niles exchanged looks with Xavier, who rolled a few feet closer to the Russian contingent.
“You do, as my director says, know an awful lot about us. But we also have learned quite a lot about you, sir. For instance, we have discovered that you are operating without the knowledge of your highest levels of government. We know that you have been doing so since the fall of 1941. We also know that you and a select group of individuals have committed high treason right under the noses of the Soviet and Russian governments.”
“And of course, Dr. Morales, you have indisputable proof of this?”
“Not at all. It is mere conjecture and circumstantial.”
“I suspect this comes from that magnificent computing system your group employs. Bravo on your guesswork. This system”—he stopped and leaned over as one of his aids spoke to him in Russian—“ah, yes, Europa. As I was saying, without evidence and actual proof of anything, you cannot harm us. As we”—again the irritating smile—“cannot prove beyond a doubt that your group exists. So here we are, Doctor, both entities standing and shouting to the winds.”
Morales smiled in return. “What is your goal?”
“Why, to protect our citizens and our heritage. Just as your group proclaims in its charter.”
Niles cleared his throat and then faced down Vassick. Jack leaned forward in his chair. He knew Dr. Compton took the secrecy of the Group very seriously and the knowledge that their secret was now out in the open, at least to these people, and now he was playing a hidden card that Jack himself could not figure out.
“We can sit here and rattle sabers all day long, but that will get us into nothing but open warfare. And that, sir, is one battle you cannot allow to happen. That would take too much explaining to your real government, not this hidden society you claim is running things. As Dr. Morales said a moment ago, sir, we also know quite a bit about you.”
“Please continue, Dr. Compton.”
“As it stands, your influence with the Russian military is expansive and supported from within your tight circle of confidants. But you still work with a hidden agenda, whereas we do not. We work under the auspices of the United States government, as I’m sure you know.”
Jack watched as Xavier wheeled over to the monitor and turned it on. He used a small laptop that looked strangely like the small Europa link lost by them. He hit a few buttons, and the face of an aged man came into focus. Morales nodded at Niles.
“Sir, we now have a guess as to who it is you answer for. This group is called the Northstar Committee.”
“A group I am not familiar with,” Vassick said as his face remained neutral.
“Well, as I said, everything we have is circumstantial. I’m sure that this fact will be a big relief to the rest of your associates. But we did get evidence that the methods used in your efforts to steal the phase shift information were flawed. You left fingerprints at the scene. The radioactive material from the breeder reactor, as you know, is identifiable and was indeed stolen from the Hanford research facility in 1943.”
“Your point in this matter is?”
“That the phase shift engine is the sole property of the United States government, and we wish it returned. It makes no matter that the system is installed inside Russian state property or not. Our science along with your own can find the nuclear fingerprint inside the phase shift engine on board Simbirsk. Now, we can make this an issue in the world court, or you can admit to your theft right here and now.”
Jack smelled that old familiar odor of rat once more. He didn’t know what it was Niles was playing at, but he did suspect that Compton was running one of the biggest bluffs of his life.
“Admit? I am not in one of your courts of law, Doctor. I do say this and always have. Your department is very resourceful at recovery—items of history and items of information. But as I said, this is all hearsay and speculation. The Northstar Committee has always been a rumor, one that has been shot down by most conspiracy theorists within our borders. I will say this: every premier, every president since the days of the old Soviet Union, has investigated these claims, and they have always fallen far short of that rumor. Oh, even now they still suspect, but even if proven, there is nothing that can be done about it. We control the Russian military, and the funny thing is, Doctor, they have no idea.”
Niles turned away from the Russian and looked directly at Second Captain Dishlakov. “Sir, on behalf of the president of the United States, we offer you asylum in our country.”
Dishlakov stood and nodded. He looked from Compton to Jack and then to Vassick.
“I thank you for the offer,” he said in Russian, which was translated by Virginia to Niles and the others. “But I am not a coward. My people must learn the truth about these arrogant and dangerous men. I cannot accept your gracious offer.” He sat back down, and he again looked Jack’s way, and he could only nod in understanding. He would do the same thing if it were him.
“Again, you are wasting your time. You will not win this battle. You have”—Vassick looked at his gold wristwatch—“exactly thirty minutes to comply with our request, or we can settle things militarily. This point is up to you.”
“As you said, your power is derived from secrecy of your hidden group. That you would control all aspects of your government through your committee members. Well, it may not be that secret any longer. Your little speech has been viewed by a colleague of yours who is now an interested party to your committee’s deceit since 1941.”
At this point, Xavier Morales rolled his old-fashioned wheelchair over to the monitor and then flipped a switch, and a blank screen came up. Then Xavier typed information into the laptop he had installed on the arm of his chair. He turned in his wheelchair and nodded at Niles.
“Second Captain Dishlakov, your refusal to assist these men and your refusal to seek asylum will not go unnoticed. I assume you will still be alive in the coming months and years as your government figures out what it is they have to do about this rogue element within the sanctity of your national borders. The US government is bowing out of this situation by order of our president.”
“That is most wise,” Vassick said as his intense gaze fell on the Russian captain.
Jack and the others saw the faintest hint of a smile curl at the director’s mouth.
“Mr. President, are you there?” Niles said as he turned to the monitor.
“So, now you think we will bow to your president, Doctor? What makes you think this?” Vassick said with the smile still on his face. “We know that he is powerless to pursue any remedy for my group of patriots.”
“Who said anything about our president?”
“Uh-oh,” Carl said loud enough to be heard. Jack only smiled as the bluff came full circle in a confused mess that Compton would have to explain to simple soldiers like he and Carl.
The color drained from the face of Dr. Vassick as the screen came to full-color life.
The face of Russian president Vladimir Putin was there live for all to see. He was sitting next to a man they all assumed was an English-speaking interpreter. But Jack figured rightly that he hadn’t needed one for what it was he had just heard confessed to. The Russian ruler said something in a calm voice, and then the man sitting next to him spoke.
“I am indeed here, Doctor. Your president was very forthright in insisting I join this meeting.”
“Did you understand all that was discussed here, sir?” Compton continued, with his one good eye never leaving his counterpart.
Vassick lost that arrogant smile of his as he realized for the first time in his committee’s history they had admitted to their treason in full view of Russian authority.
“Yes, I believe we have serious internal discussions we will have to have on state security matters. I have made the appropriate arrangements with your navy, and our response, I understand, has arrived aboard your carrier.” The interpreter became silent as Putin, a man despised in the Western circles of government, stared into the screen.
Jack realized that a plan had been formulated between himself and Lord James Durnsford, the bow-tied little Brit who knew more than anyone in the world as far as secret government agencies went. Collins smiled and shook his head as he reminded himself never to allow the best bluffer in the world in the stubby form of one Niles Compton into their weekly poker game. He looked at the seated Russian agent Salkukoff and winked at him. The man turned away angrily, as his plans had been illuminated by the most powerful spotlight in the world.
There was the sound of the hatchway being opened, and the same marine stepped aside to allow men in blue battle camouflage to enter. Jack and Carl knew them to be Russian marines. What was amazing was the fact that the US Marine security detail allowed them to keep their sidearms aboard one of the most protected ships in the entire world—Nimitz.
The ten very large Russian naval marines marched straight to the seated Russians. With Vladimir Putin still watching with an intense gaze, the marines took them into custody.
Vassick smiled as he was stood up and handcuffed. He remained silent as he was escorted out.
They saw Salkukoff stand up as if he were the next to be taken, but the marines merely walked past him and out of the hangar deck. It was Second Captain Dishlakov who stopped in front of Salkukoff, and then it was his turn to smile as he simply walked out.
All eyes went to the large screen of the monitor as the interpreter spoke. “My president wishes to express his gratitude for your assistance in this matter and wishes you to pass the same along to your president. This issue will be taken up with trusted members of our politburo, and appropriate measures will be taken. As for the apparatus in your possession, according to official Soviet records, the Simbirsk was lost with all hands in the summer of 1945. So, it is our opinion that this ship is not Russian state property, and our government has authorized its destruction if that is the will of your salvage team. We expect a proper outcome to this matter and thus will discuss it no further as long as the appropriate measures are taken immediately. Good day, gentlemen.”
The monitor again went blank as the stoic face of the Russian president vanished.
Jack and the others stood and shook hands with Niles, Xavier, and Virginia.
“You are going to have to explain all of this when we get home,” Jack said as he smiled and faced the Group.
Niles smiled and looked deeply into Jack’s eyes. “That’s need to know, Colonel, need to know.”
* * *
The Russian-made helicopter left the flight deck of the Nimitz and sped toward the waiting Russian battle fleet miles away. Vassick was angry as he sat with his fellows and then gestured angrily toward the marines watching them. Second Captain Dishlakov’s eyes widened when Vassick held out his cuffed hands and the marine removed not only his but the also the restraints of the other members of his group. Vassick angrily gestured toward a man in civilian dress who had not been aboard the carrier. The black-suited man handed over a laptop.
“Second Captain Dishlakov, you may want to witness this.”
Two Russian marines harshly stood the Russian officer and pushed him to the opposite side of the helicopter. Dishlakov watched as a connection was made. The face of Vladimir Putin was there and smiling.
“Are you hearing me, Gregor?” Vassick said into the microphone on the laptop.
“Yes, and I guess you’re lucky we were, my old friend. They had me in a television interview for three hours with a silly woman reporter from Germany. I almost didn’t make it in time.”
“Well, you did good, old friend. You go and finish your interview now.”
“Okay, you old Bolshevik, see you when you get home to Siberia.”
The laptop went blank.
Vassick smiled at Second Captain Dishlakov as he handed the laptop back to his man.
“Yes, the dawning of knowledge is sometimes rather startling, is it not?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You and many billions of others around the globe, Second Captain. Let’s just say that most people do not know that our great President Putin ever had a brother, much less a twin brother. A twin that our illustrious former KGB operative tried to hide from the rest of the world for over forty-eight years. I would say that he came in handy after we discovered the hiding place our president had buried him under.”
“What of the real president?” Dishlakov asked, not believing what it was he was hearing.
“Oh, Vladimir had a chemically induced heart attack seven years ago. Very sad. But he was a stupid man who thought he had the brainpower to take on those far more intelligent than himself. People you may have even met on your little adventure. This is the reason why our old Russian history of acting first without thinking has come to an end.”
Two men, also dressed in black suits, sat beside Dishlakov, one on each side.
“I am to be murdered now?” he asked bravely.
“Murdered?” Vassick chuckled. “My friend, you will become one of the true messengers of our new system of government. Very valuable indeed. No, you will make it home alive.”
“No matter what you do to me, my crew performed bravely, and they do not deserve to die.”
“My dear man, do you think us entirely without empathy or pride in what your crew and the brave Captain Kreshenko executed in the most hostile of worlds? No, your crew will go down in Russian history as the very men who began our new revolution.”
“And Captain Kreshenko’s legacy is what?”
“The same, my boy. He will be remembered with honor, as you all will. Yes, we have our disagreements with certain military leaders—Kreshenko was one of them.” Vassick took a deep breath. “You see, young man, there will be certain … citizens and professional military associates who cannot accompany the new Russia to where it is we are going.”
Before Second Captain Dishlakov knew what was happening, the man to his right plunged the syringe into the thigh of Dishlakov. As his eyes fluttered shut, his last vision was of the portly man smiling at him.
Vassick took a deep breath and then leaned back against the aluminum body of the helicopter.
“It’s a shame we had to lose Salkukoff; he was a very respected member of our society. He will be missed.” He again sighed. “But then we all have to make sacrifices for what is to come. Let us go home; we have many things to discuss and plan.”
* * *
An hour later, the Simbirsk was cast free of her towline from Ticonderoga, and the USS Houston moved away from the Nimitz battle group to a safe distance. Jack, Carl, Charlie Ellenshaw, Jason Ryan, and Will Mendenhall, along with Niles Compton, Virginia Pollock, and Xavier Morales, who was looking around the massive carrier with a child’s wonderment, gathered at the fantail of Nimitz watching the seas to the north. They were soon joined by Henri Farbeaux, who stood next to them.
“Get it done?” Jack asked.
Henri looked at his wristwatch and nodded. “In exactly one minute, my obligation to you and your president will be fulfilled, Colonel.” He looked at Niles, and the director nodded in agreement.
Their attention was drawn to the distant conning tower of the Houston as she paced the battle group three miles away. Unable to submerge with the damage she had sustained, she was still able to fulfill this one last task.
Henri tapped his watch as he looked up. “It’s time.”
In the distance, they saw Simbirsk as she bobbed in the calm seas. The Russian relic sat upon the sea proudly as she awaited her fate.
LOS ANGELES–CLASS ATTACK SUBMARINE USS HOUSTON
On the conning tower of the Houston, Captain Thorne looked through his binoculars and then leaned over and spoke into the intercom.
“Weapons, are you ready?”
“Aye, Skipper,” came the reply.
“Fire one!”
“Tube one, weapons release.”
“Fire two!”
“Tube two fired electrically. All weaps running hot, straight, and normal.”
“Conn, run the live feed to all compartments. This is for Shiloh and Peter the Great. We all deserve this.”
“Aye.”
Captain Thorne resumed his watch as his torpedoes sped to their intended target.
* * *
Three miles away on the battle bridge of the Russian battle cruiser once thought lost to the world, Colonel Salkukoff waited. His handcuffed hands were secured to the wheel of the navigation station, so he had a good view of his fate as the American Mark 48 torpedoes reached the hull. He cursed Henri Farbeaux for his last words to him.
“Remember the Ukraine, for this is the reason why I am sending you straight to hell.”
* * *
The members of the Event Group watched as the Mark 48s had done what the phase shift and Nazi submarines could not do. The explosions occurred separately. One weapon detonated below her keel and the other directly into the hull below the engine spaces. The resulting fireball could be seen by every ship in the battle group. They watched until the battle cruiser sank in two sections for the three-mile fall to her final resting place.
Jack slapped Henri Farbeaux on the back, as his orders had indeed been fulfilled. It was Virginia of all people who spoke up.
“Now, can I ask where that gruff bastard of mine is?”
“Right behind you,” Carl said with the largest smile Virginia or the others had ever seen the captain have.
Stepping onto the covered fantail came Charlie Ellenshaw and Jenks. The master chief was holding two small girls, and the others clung to his pant leg as if it were a maypole.
Virginia lost her own smile very fast.