The Peacekeepers. Books 4 - 6.

by Ricky Sides

  “Do not use the energy weapons. Use only conventional weapons. Save all ordinances for the deck guns. Expend all conventional ordinances, then fly for Lake Charles, and hope she can make it to the base. Save the power for flight. We can sink the ships with the fighters if we can clear the decks of the heavy machineguns, Captain,” Pol advised.

  “Do what Pol said,” Jim said, knowing that the engineer knew the ship better than any other man alive.

  The battleship drone managed to take out three more gun emplacements before the pilot said, “Sir, if we are going to save the drone I think we have to head for land immediately. The power loss rate is increasing.”

  “Break off, and head for the Lake Charles base,” Pol recommended, and Jim nodded.

  This was an unlucky break. Jim had been counting on the ability of the drone to withstand the punishment enough to inflict more damage. But it had sunk one ship and destroyed several guns. That would have to do for the drone this trip. “At least we sank the ship with the Cartel aboard,” he reminded himself by way of consolation.

  Chapter 21

  On the night that the invasion fleet was preparing to leave Cuba, the cartel boss Henry Silba had called a meeting with the other bosses. He told them that his sixth sense was telling him that if the cartel bosses remained aboard their current headquarters ship they would be killed. The cartel bosses listened closely to this warning. They listened because it was in their own best interests to do so, and not because they were afraid of Silba.

  Henry Silba had survived eight times to their knowledge when he had inexplicably perceived a threat and moved to neutralize that danger. Five of those threats had been assassination attempts, which failed when he wasn’t where the attackers thought he would be located. One was a car accident. He somehow knew not to ride in his limousine one day and opted instead to ride with a bodyguard. The brakes of the limousine failed on a steep mountain road and the driver lost control. It went over the side and down into the canyon below. Both the driver and a bodyguard were killed. Another time he cancelled a flight and that plane went down killing everyone onboard including a business associate who had laughed at Silba’s warning. Then there was the time he cancelled a scheduled trip to a poppy supplier’s farm, and agents of the American drug task force raided that farm during the time that he would have been present had he kept his planned schedule. Those agents would have taken him to America to stand trial.

  No, the cartel bosses didn’t listen to Henry Silba because they were afraid of him. They listened to him because they were afraid not to listen. His sixth sense was an established fact with them. They didn’t need to understand how it worked. They only needed to know that it did indeed work.

  They made plans that night to transfer to a smaller vessel. Many of the extra personnel would have to remain onboard the current headquarters ship, because it also contained a huge supply of drugs that was their key to power.

  ***

  In the control room of the Constitution, Bill surveyed the damage they had inflicted on the enemy ship that they had attacked as the pilot flew toward the next target. The battle had lasted for an hour already and his ship had taken a beating. No more rockets had struck their hull, but according to the video feed being transmitted by the scout pilot, his outer hull looked like Swiss cheese. His fighters had been forced to detach and run for cover but they had taken out two deck guns before they had been forced to regroup with the main air group of fighters.

  The Constitution came over a mid sized cargo vessel with four deck guns which hammered incessantly at the hull of the battleship. “Fire,” Bill ordered and the laser shotgun fired the last shot that it would be able to fire until the battery had recharged. Nevertheless, the shot had hit dead on target. Below the Constitution, the deck of the cartel ship was a raging inferno. Secondary explosions erupted beside the four deck guns as their ammunition cooked off. “Outstanding, Gunner,” Bill said pleased with her achievement.

  “Thank you, sir,” Samantha Rainer, the main gunner of the Constitution replied.

  “Bombardier, how many bombs do we have left?” Bill asked.

  “Six, sir,” the man immediately responded.

  “Pilot, get us over an isolated ship that still has several deck guns. With just six bombs remaining, we’ll approach and expend the rest of our conventional ammo, then drop our remaining six bombs amidships,” Bill ordered and then looked to the crewmembers that would have to carry out those orders. A chorus of responses from the appropriate crewmembers indicated that everyone understood the orders. Soon they were making their attack run.

  They were approaching a ship with three deck guns that were firing at the Constitution in a steady stream of deadly fifty caliber bullets. Those bullets were slamming against the hull so hard that Bill could feel the vibrations produced by their impacts through the soles of his boots. Then the Constitution fired back, answering the enemy fire with their conventional minigun. The laser gunner even managed to coax a two second burst out of his weapon before it failed due to a lack of available power. But the gunner had taken out the crew of one deck gun while the conventional weapon neutralized another.

  The bombardier said, “Bombs away, Captain.” The pilot threw the ship into an instant acceleration from zero to one hundred and the ship cleared the deck as multiple explosions amidships wracked the vessel. Executing a turn and dropping speed the pilot brought the ship around so that the captain could survey the damage. The secondary explosions were still going off and the ship was listing hard to port. “Looks like we blew a bulkhead, Captain,” the bombardier stated. “I think she is taking on water fast.”

  “Sergeant Carter, have your men begin the reloading cycle the moment that the weapons are cool enough to proceed safely. Tell them I said to see if they can save some reload time but if the weapons really need cleaning, then do so. Just remind them that the time they save may mean the lives of their fellow peacekeepers. But a malfunctioning weapon will save no one,” Bill ordered the sergeant who’d been summoned forward so that he could make certain that the men understood the urgency of the reload time being as rapid as possible, but only if it was properly handled so that they could actually use the weapons.

  “Understood, Captain. The teams have the items needed assembled and ready to begin the moment you give the word,” Sergeant Carter stated. He turned and ran down the hall toward the waiting crews. Almost immediately two men came into the control room followed quickly by two more men who were carrying ammunition.

  Within moments, Bill’s reload crews and their drone operator assistants were opening the service hatches for the miniguns fore and aft to let the weapons cool faster. One of the reload men in the control room donned protective gloves and pulled the assembly toward him on its carriage despite the fact that it was smoking hot. Doing this permitted the air to cool the unit faster, and that would save precious minutes on the reload time. The material of his heat resistant gloves smoldered and Bill leapt to his feet in alarm, but the private yanked the gloves off and stamped on the embers. “I’m fine, sir,” Private Evan Jones said as he tried to hide his hands behind his back.

  “Let me see your hands, Private,” Bill said sternly. Reluctantly the man showed the captain his hands. Bill estimated that he had first-degree burns and possible second-degree burns in some areas. “Get to the infirmary, Private,” the captain said.

  “Sir, I’m needed here,” the private explained.

  “Dismissed, Private,” Bill said sternly and then he ordered Holly to inform the infirmary that the private was on the way with severe burns to his hands and that he wanted a report on the man’s condition before he returned to duty. When the man left for the infirmary, Bill sent one of the drone operators to see if the sergeant had another trained man who could assist the remaining trained crewmember. The other drone pilot was industriously fanning the weapon assembly with his uniform shirt to hasten the cooling process.

  Now they were out of conventional ammunition and would have to rel
oad. Their energy level was also getting low. Sighing Bill asked for a link to the Peacekeeper council and said, “Jim, I’m afraid that’s about all we can do until we reload and let the batteries charge a bit.”

  “Congratulate your crew for me, Captain. That was a superb performance,” Jim stated. He watched the video feed as the Constitution flew away. A dozen or more deck guns pounded the ship as it flew back to regroup and rearm. Jim shook his head in amazement at the punishment the ship could take and remain airborne. He knew that it would be an hour or two before the battleship could reenter the fray at full fighting level.

  ***

  Inside the Constitution, the men who reloaded the conventional miniguns were scrambling to do so. Bill was sitting in his chair mentally pondering the situation and trying to think of anything that he may have missed. Then he remembered the time that Pol had come up with a solution to a similar problem. “Holly, put me on ship wide address.”

  “Done, sir,” the efficient communication specialist said.

  “All hands, this is the captain speaking. Turn off all systems not essential to the battle performance of this ship. I mean everything, and that includes the normal lighting. Galley, shut down everything and I mean everything. Sergeant Carter, kill the cargo bay lighting and then you go through the ship checking every cabin and every compartment aboard. I don’t want even minimal light in the sleeping quarters for now. I need power people. Let’s get this ship back into the battle,” the captain said. Turning to his engineer, Bill said, “Kill the cooling system and anything else you can think of that isn’t critical to our combat worthiness. Get me some power.”

  “Aye, Captain,” the engineer replied and began shutting down non-critical functions.

  All over the ship, men sprinted to shut down power systems not critical to the combat worthiness of the vessel. One of the drone operators reminded the engineer to kill power to the drone consoles, but the engineer had done that early in the shutdown process. The cook and his two assistants raced to comply with the captain’s orders. The cook unplugged the large refrigeration units and the large coffee makers that had pre heaters in them to increase the speed with which they made coffee. He turned off the stove where the pot of stew was being kept warm so that he could feed the crew when the time was available. The assistants remembered to run into the large mess hall and kill even the dimmed lighting that normally functioned when the room was not in use. They carried flashlights with them, because as the ship went dark it became impossible to see. In the infirmary and operating room of the ship, the doctor and nurse raced to shut down the numerous medical equipment monitors, computers, and various medical devices that consumed power. Then taking flashlights they turned off the lighting and waited in the dark with their patient who had been treated, but was on restricted duty, and would ride out the rest of the battle in the infirmary. Sergeant Carter and several men raced through the cabins killing all lighting and securing the doors. Drone operators with flashlights held the lights for the reload crews to see to complete their reloading. As the ship went dark, the engineer reported that the battery system of the ship was now recharging at a very rapid rate. “I think we can return to the battle fairly soon, sir,” the engineer stated.

  “Good,” the captain said simply. He had a feeling that the Peacekeeper would need his ship soon.

  ***

  The immediate problem the peacekeepers faced was that some serious armor plating, with only the barrels of the weapons exposed, protected all of the remaining deck guns.

  “Looks like we are up to bat,” Jim stated. He requested a channel to the patrol ships. “Gentlemen it’s our turn. Pick a gun and try to target the barrels from extreme range. Let’s see if we can defeat them from long range first.”

  The Peacekeeper flew away from the main air group escorted by the six patrol ships participating in the conflict. Jim looked out the windshield of his ship and saw Namid’s Phoenix fly into its customary escort position ahead of the Peacekeeper and two hundred feet higher. “Put me through to Namid,” he ordered. At Patricia’s nod, he keyed his microphone and said, “Break off Phoenix. This attack is for the big ships only. It’s still too dangerous for the fighters,” he stated not expecting an argument.

  “Negative, sir. I can’t do that,” she responded. She had struggled with herself prior to making this decision. She realized that after today even if she survived the battle the council would most likely ground her.

  “Phoenix that was not a request,” Jim said sternly.

  “I realize that, sir. You can fire me later, but I am not going to stand down and watch the flagship of the peacekeepers get blown to hell while I sit safe in the rear,” she said defiantly.

  “That goes for me too, sir,” Jim heard flight leader Jeff Brown say and out the window he saw the flight leader pull into the wingman slot beside Namid. “Phoenix let’s light this armada up,” he said rakishly and then he added, “You lead the squadron. Today I am your wingman.”

  “I’m with you guys,” Lina’s voice said as she flew her fighter into the formation and joined Namid and Jeff. Lina had only recently landed the job of escort fighter for the Texas. Like Namid, she was not inclined to wait in the rear.

  “Well I’ll be damned,” Tim said in surprise as the rest of the fighters overtook and then passed the Peacekeeper and the patrol ships.

  “Guys I hope you know what you’re doing,” Jim said and then he added, “Alright let’s do this right,” he said and proceeded to outline a desperate plan he’d just conceived. One that just might work.

  ***

  The Peacekeeper and the patrol ships stopped and hovered at an altitude of two hundred feet. They were approximately fifteen hundred feet from their targets. The gunners fired their forward main lasers at some of the ships still armed with the deck-mounted machineguns. They didn’t try to destroy the deck guns because they knew they lacked the power at that range. They targeted sections of the hull about forty feet from the bow of the ships and just above the waterline. It took time, but eventually the lasers bored through the thick steel hulls. Now every time the ships splashed through a wave they took on water. The deck guns fired a murderous barrage at the seven peacekeeper vessels attacking their ships. However, the armada was so far away that the shells had spent much of their energy by the time they reached the ships so their bullets lacked the energy to penetrate the tough alloy.

  The peacekeepers fired again. This time the ships fired to the right of the original targets hoping to open another hole in close proximity to the first. The pounding of the retaliation from the enemy ships grew more insistent and Tim detected a change in the tonal quality of the impacting rounds. “Breaking off and executing evasive maneuvers,” he shouted and took the ship clear of the immediate danger zone.

  The pilots of the patrol ships followed suit and soon they lined up with a greater distance between their ships and the enemy to try again.

  “Now Phoenix!” Jim shouted into the microphone as the laser punched another hole through the ship they were targeting.

  From out of the west came the one hundred and four fighters. They stopped in mass aligned with the length of the armada and targeted the ships armed with the remaining deck guns. Using the same strategy as the bigger ships, the fighters fired just above the waterline at all of the remaining vessels.

  From the windshield, Jim saw the Constitution fly past them with her guns blazing. The shotgun weapon devastated one ship in a flash. “How the hell did they recharge so fast?” he asked himself. He heard Bill calling for the larger ships to cease firing as he interposed his ship between the seven-peacekeeper ships and the remaining deck guns. Bill said that the Constitution would not stand back and watch the flagship of the peacekeepers be shot up.

  “Bill you dummy, get out of there,” Pete ordered.

  “I’m sorry Pete I didn’t hear you,” Bill lied. He was a pitiful liar. Pete just shook his head. Eagle squadron broke away from the main fighter force and flew over to the Consti
tution laying down a punishing barrage at the ships daring to attack the ship they had sworn to protect.

  “Is this a private dance or can anyone join in?” asked Captain Cliff Barnes over the radio as the California shot past the Peacekeeper to fly down to the left of the Constitution and opened fire with everything she had. The eight-fighter escort dropped down beside the California and added their firepower to the now massive barrage.

  Tim looked at Jim and the captain said, “Go!” Turning to Pete, Jim shouted, “Pete, be ready with everything we’ve got!”

  “Loading up the galley sink,” Pete quipped and prepared to unleash a fury of firepower at the armada.

  The six other patrol ships flew around the Constitution and they too unleashed the full extent of their firepower on the armada suddenly beset by one hundred twenty-one peacekeeper aircraft.

  Jim noted that several fighters had worked together to target the heavily armored positions of the deck guns and even as he watched the fighters destroyed the gun. “The pilots worked out a way to destroy the deck guns despite their heavy armor!” he said in surprise.

  Jim saw a fighter drop from the sky and splash down into the sea. The downed pilot’s wingman dropped down toward him to attempt a rescue. Jim saw the downed pilot open the canopy of his fighter and reach for the rope his wingman had lowered for the rescue attempt. The pilot in the downed plane then doubled over in pain and fell backward in the cockpit of his rapidly sinking fighter as geysers of water splashed around him. Outraged pilots targeted the gun that had shot the downed flier and it seemed to Jim that at least thirty laser beams slammed into the deck gun emplacement. Heavily armored or not, it could not take that sort of punishment and that section of the ship exploded.

  The California dropped down to the area where the fighter was just beginning to go under and the cargo bay door opened and Jim saw a man dive into the water. The man in the water began to swim to the bubbles emerging on the surface that marked the spot where the fighter had gone under the water. He dove under the surface and soon returned with the pilot whose life preserver had automatically inflated.