by Ricky Sides
***
Aboard the Arizona, Captain Wilcox gave the order to launch the drones so that they could begin their reconnaissance run. Moments earlier, the Arizona had shot past the first few ships of the armada that they were seeking.
Under the cover of darkness, it had been a simple matter for Namid to turn the ship and fly away from the approaching fleet in order to permit the unmanned drones to do the initial recon work. But dawn was rapidly approaching. There was no way that the Arizona could remain undetected in the light of day.
Captain Wilcox ordered the drones to record their missions, but only one supplied a video feed to the ship. He stared in rapt attention as the drone sped past ship after ship. It took the four drones almost an hour to accomplish the reconnaissance mission, during which time they took video footage of every ship in the fleet. By then, the night was fading into the predawn light.
Namid had been maintaining pace with the approaching fleet approximately a mile ahead of the armada. Once the initial recon mission had been accomplished, Captain Wilcox said, “Communications, inform our escort pilot that he is a go to detach and fly escort, and send that recon video to the council at Base 1.”
“Aye, Captain,” the lieutenant said.
“Pilot, begin our approach. Let’s see if the ships want to demonstrate their intentions,” Captain Wilcox calmly ordered.
“Sir, some men on one of the ships have spotted my drone,” one of the drone pilots reported.
“This should be interesting,” the captain said with a smile as he walked over to observe the encounter in the pilot’s monitor. He wasn’t quite certain that Pol had done so deliberately, but the scientist’s new drone design looked like the flying saucers of science fiction. Captain Wilcox suspected that Pol had deliberately taken advantage of the population’s propensity for mistaking the peacekeeper vessels for alien aircraft. However, when he had voiced that opinion in front of Pol, the scientist had just smiled and said that he had actually chosen the design because it maximized the probability that a projectile impact would be deflected rather than penetrate the hull. Then he had laughed until he had tears in his eyes and walked away.
“Activate your com gear. Tell the men that they are on a course for the United States and ask them to state their intentions,” ordered the captain.
“Aye, Captain,” responded the drone operator. But when he asked the question, the men on the ship responded by running toward their deck guns.
“Disable her guns,” the Captain ordered.
“Sir, that may kill the men manning them,” the pilot responded. He was seeking clarification on the order.
“Understood, Corporal. That can’t be helped. Fire when ready,” replied the captain.
“Aye, sir, targeting now.”
The ship was a cargo vessel that had been equipped with three deck guns. They were obviously heavy caliber weapons. As the men manned the guns, the drone targeted the receivers of all three in rapid succession. With pinpoint accuracy, the lasers drilled holes through the receivers, effectively disabling the deck guns.
“Sir, my drone is taking heavy weapons fire,” one of the other drone operators said.
“Pull back. Execute evasive maneuvers,” the captain ordered. Then he said, “All drones pull back away from the fleet for the moment.”
Turning to face Namid’s back, the captain said, “Namid, stop us near the first ship we approach, but be ready to move away if they open fire.”
“Aye, Captain. Stopping now,” she responded. Without thinking about what she was doing, Namid’s right hand reached for the weapon’s control panel. Her fighter pilot reflexes were kicking in, and she was preparing to return fire should the need arise. Then she caught herself in the act and sheepishly removed her hand from the proximity of the weapons switches, much to the amusement of the gunner. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Old habits die hard.”
‘That’s alright, Namid. If I’m ever too slow to react you may save our hide,” the gunner stated soberly. Then he smiled, and added, “Just give me a chance to prove I can do the job.”
“Will do, Gunny,” she responded, using the nickname she had given the gunner who was probably the second best gunner in the fleet. Of all the gunners, she had worked with in the past, only Pete Damroyal could top the man. Lieutenant David Rockwell was so good at the position that he would be a welcome addition to any ship.
The men on the freighter stared incredulously at the Arizona as the ship hovered at five hundred feet a few hundred yards dead ahead of their bow. “Open the ship to surface communications channel,” Captain Wilcox ordered.
“Done, sir,” responded the communications officer.
“This is the Arizona. I am Captain Wilcox. We are an American peacekeeper ship. We have been informed that a massive pirate fleet is steaming for our waters. I have been dispatched to inform you that your fleet will not be permitted in our waters. Turn back and live. Refuse and your ship will be sent to the bottom of the sea. You have five minutes to decide your fate.”
“Captain, several other ships are closing and they seem to be targeting us,” the escort pilot reported calmly.
“Execute evasive maneuvers,” Captain Wilcox ordered.
As the Arizona and the fighter moved rapidly out of harms way, Captain Wilcox added, “Hold your fire for the moment. Give the men on the freighter time to communicate with the other ships. I don’t think they’ll accept our offer, but let’s try anyway.”
“Sir, they are firing at us,” reported the escort pilot.
Jack could see the fighter shuddering under the impacts of the heavy projectiles. A moment later, the peacekeeper fighter accelerated away from the sea going vessels and was in the clear.
The captain noted that his ship had also taken hits. It had sounded like someone rapidly beating a piece of heavy steel with a hammer.
“Namid, bring us around. Gunner, prepare to open fire. Just don’t get carried away. There are five thousand targets to contend with down there. This is going to have to be a very conservative battle,” Jack said.
“Aye, Captain. I’ll be careful,” the gunner stated with a gleam in his eyes. The man had studied the video feed of the war with the drug cartel in the Gulf of Mexico for hours on end. He thought he had discovered the most efficient means of dispatching ships in a conservative manner.
“Drones, pick an isolated ship, execute drone attack plan Alpha. Once you complete that mission, pull back a safe distance and we’ll see if they really have the stomach to take on the peacekeepers,” Jack said with a frown.
“Arizona, do I have permission to engage a target?” queried the escort pilot.
“Pick one off our port side, Rufus,” Jack responded. “Just don’t cross our line of fire. We’re commencing an attack run.”
“Aye, Captain. Will do,” responded the pilot.
The four drones began their attack runs first. They dove down to ten feet above the surface and flew up beside four ships. They stopped to hover approximately twenty feet off the port side of the ships. Their small but powerful lasers activated. Within moments, the drones had penetrated the hulls near the waterline. They sustained the attack for a few moments, further widening the damaged area, and then they retreated.
The Arizona began its attack run while the drones were firing their lasers. The gunner methodically targeted the waterlines of three vessels during their initial run, and then Namid retreated to regroup near the drones.
In the fighter, Rufus let out a whoop when he saw the Arizona begin its attack run. He throttled forward, strafing the deck guns of one ship with his minigun while preparing to target the side of a fuel tanker. During the briefing, the captain had stressed the need to fight this battle as a war of attrition. If it came to a shooting war, there was no way that the Arizona and her battle group could hope to defeat the massive fleet opposing them. This would be a battle of attrition, during which they would seek to take out as many ships as possible. To that end, the supply ships were primary targ
ets.
Rufus targeted the hull of the tanker with his powerful main laser weapon. Three red pulses flashed down the blue beam, punching through the outer, and then the inner hulls. The concussive force of the resultant explosion when the laser reached the fuel almost knocked Rufus’s fighter out of the sky. A greatly sobered fighter pilot rejoined the Arizona and observed the results of the preliminary engagements of the war in the Atlantic.
Seven of the eight ships whose hulls had been attacked were just beginning to list as the ocean poured inside the gaping holes in their hulls. The fuel tanker was already sinking. The explosion had greatly increased the size of the hole that the fighter had drilled in the hull.
“Captain, the ships are maneuvering. It looks as if they are opening a lane for… Oh, I see…” Namid said. “Sir, a warship is approaching,” she added.
“Drones, attack plan Beta, now!” Captain Wilcox ordered. “Rufus, attack plan Gamma, but be careful.”
“Roger that, Captain,” Rufus replied.
The drones dropped down to hover near the surface of the sea. They spread out in a line and approached the oncoming warship, which ignored them and opened fire at the Arizona with its deck guns.
Inside the Arizona, the control room crew heard the sound of the impacts of hundreds of rounds on the starboard side of the ship.
“Captain?” Namid asked.
“Hold position for just a few more moments and then break hard to port, Pilot,” responded Jack. He wanted Rufus to have a few more moments to get into position before they moved. The Arizona could take the punishment, but the fighter couldn’t.
“Aye, sir. Prepared to break hard to port on your mark,” Namid responded. As a former fighter pilot, she understood why Jack was waiting and could appreciate the gesture.
“Gunner, try to target her bow, but be careful. If you can’t make the shot without endangering our own aircraft, then don’t risk it,” the captain advised.
The gunner sighted the bow of the oncoming battleship, but just as he was about to take the shot, one of the drones crossed his line of fire. “Sorry, sir. I can’t make the shot without endangering the drones. They’re too close to the target now.”
“Helm, hard to port,” Jack ordered.
“Aye, sir. Hard to port it is,” Namid replied. The Arizona turned and accelerated away from the warship.
“Slip maneuver, helm. Gunner, mind our own aircraft, but take out that ship if you can,” Jack ordered.
Namid executed the slip maneuver, which would turn the ship to face the enemy as they slipped sideways through the air, broadside the battleship. The two drones on that side of the ship that had been boring into her hull darted away to safety. The peacekeeper fighter came at the ship from the rear and opened fire on her stern with his main laser. He was attempting to bore through the tough hull in an effort to damage the shaft that controlled the propellers. The Arizona opened fire broadside. In seven seconds, the gunner had succeeded in increasing the size of the two holes the drones had opened in the hull of the battleship.
When the fighter pilot announced that he had accomplished his mission, the captain said, “Navigation, take us out a safe distance from the fleet. Rufus, stick with us. Drones, cover our retreat, and then join us. Communications, are we still transmitting the battle video to Base 1?”
“Yes, Captain. Just as you ordered,” responded the communications officer.
The peacekeeper aircraft formed a close formation with the pirate fleet barely visible in the distance. The control room of the Arizona was equipped with a large screen monitor, which could display a video feed from several cameras stationed around the exterior of the ship. “Zoom in on the section of the fleet that we just attacked,” ordered Jack.
“Done, sir,” the camera operator said.
On the monitor, Jack saw that several of the ships were now listing to a dangerous degree. As he watched the monitor, he saw men abandoning the ships. Some were scrambling to launch life rafts, but most were just jumping into the sea. The fuel tanker had already slipped beneath the surface of the sea. The battleship, which had taken severe damage from the multiple attacks, was rapidly sinking.
***
“Captain Wilcox is performing admirably, Jim. Congratulations. You taught the man well,” Pete said. They were sitting in the conference room at Base 1, where they were observing the incoming video feed.
“He’s a natural,” Jim observed. Lowering his voice so that only Pete could hear him, he added, “Of all the men I’ve trained for the position, Jack’s the best. He has an intuitive way of handling problems. It’s almost as if he’s playing chess and is two moves ahead of his opponent.”
“I noticed,” stated Pete with a smile. “He isn’t afraid to try the unorthodox either, and I like that.” Pausing, Pete speculated when he said, “Maybe the same traits that made him such a superb strike team leader also make him an excellent captain.”
Then Pete gazed at the screen for a moment. In the video, the battleship was just slipping beneath the surface of the sea. “What would you do now if you were there in his shoes, Jim?”
“I shouldn’t second guess him, Pete. I’m not there. He is.” Jim responded.
“I know. I’m just curious,” Pete replied.
“In that case, I’d split my forces and force the ships to bunch up tighter. Maybe then they’d have a few accidents,” Jim said with a wicked grin.
“You’d sweep the outer edges?” Pete asked for clarification.
“Yes, I’d send three drones to one side and the other three to the opposite side of the armada. I’d have the fighter fly away to the west, as if it were returning to base. I’d have him fly low to avoid their radar. Once he was well out of sight, I would have him circle wide and come at the armada from the rear,” Jim explained, warming to the subject.
“And the Arizona?” asked Pete.
“Once the ships moved in closer and chaos was in affect, I’d execute a couple of slip maneuvers, targeting the biggest threats that I could target,” Jim explained.
“That’s a pretty complex plan, Jim. Maybe too complicated for a green captain,” Pete suggested.
Shrugging, Jim said, “Maybe, but he’s not that green. At least he isn’t when it comes to combat. Note the manner in which he attacked the battleship,” Jim mused. “Jack applied standard military tactics for taking out a tank. He just amended that strategy to fit a sea based scenario.”
A moment later, the video feed shifted to one of the rear cameras aboard the Arizona. The people observing the fight in the conference room saw the fighter fly away to the west. The camera feed switched again. This time to the forward mounted camera, and the observers saw the drones separate into two groups. Three drones flew to the northern side of the armada. The remaining three headed for the southern side. Ten minutes into the attacks on the outer fringes by the drones, the ships had indeed moved in closer together, but not as close as Jim would have hoped. He realized then that no matter what else might be said about the pirates, their seamanship was superb. Even so, the slip maneuver executed by the Arizona took its toll on the fleet, as more hulls were sliced open by the deadly lasers.
Chapter 6
Captain Lynch was furious. Since the appearance of the aircraft from the United States, he had already lost one of his battleships and his fuel tanker. Those ships were portions of his personal fleet. To make matters worse, the little saucer shaped aircraft were so small and maneuverable that they were next to impossible to hit. He slammed his fist against the top of the console in his wheelhouse as he watched yet another ship slip beneath the surface of the sea. To the best of his knowledge, they’d already lost two dozen ships. He had yet to learn that the little fighter had sunk another three as it attacked the rear of the armada.
However, as he watched two of the drones streak past the fleet, Bran was reminded of his days as a youth when he’d hunted with his grandfather. He had been unable to hit the doves as they flew past him because he was aiming at their l
ocation when he fired. But the birds were moving targets, and were not in the same location by the time his shot reached it. His grandfather had pointed out that when you were hunting birds, you have to lead them. “Fire where they will be by the time your shot gets there, boy,” his grandfather had coached.
Smiling despite his losses, Bran got on the radio and passed the word to his fleet. He also ordered several ships to come through the formation and assemble near his remaining battleship. Those ships were bristling with deck guns. Thirty minutes after the plan was conceived, Captain Lynch ordered the eight-ship battle group to advance beyond the rest of the fleet. He assumed the drones would fly against that battle group. He was right. When three of the drones came in, they came in fast. Undeterred by their speed, the pirate gunners sent a withering hail of projectiles directly in their flight path. In seconds, the three drones were destroyed and a great cheer went up on the decks of the ships.
The cheers were short lived, because the fighter came at them from the rear, as did the three remaining drones. The rest of the armada couldn’t fire at the enemy without hitting their own ships. The biggest American aircraft fired a sustained burst at a cargo vessel whose deck was lined with twelve heavy machineguns. The big laser sliced through the hull of the cargo ship and she began to take on water.
Captain Lynch ordered the vessels to rejoin the armada so the other ships of the fleet could add their firepower to the battle. Only five of the eight ships survived the counterattack by the American forces, and managed to rejoin their fleet.
***
“So the options are that we can stick with this fleet and try to whittle down their numbers, or return to the mainland to fight them there?” asked Captain Wilcox.
“That’s the size of it, Captain,” Jim responded by radio. “It’s possible that you might cause many of the ships to abandon the fleet, provided that you can shake them up enough, but the mission is extremely dangerous. Your odds of coming out of that mission intact aren’t good.”