by Ricky Sides
For another hour, the peacekeepers prosecuted their war of attrition against the pirate armada. They succeeded in destroying an estimated fifty percent of the deck guns. They even managed to sink a few ships, but their victory was expensive. Three additional fighters were lost, five more drones were shot down, and three APCs had to withdraw when their windshields were shattered.
“We’ll take them on again tomorrow,” Tim stated as the fleet began to fly for the Miami base where they would rearm and prepare for their next encounter with the fleet.
***
The following morning, Pete and Jim were surveying the ground defenses, which consisted of a series of interlocking plates of the Huxley alloy that formed a wall eight feet tall. They had acquired the raw material from Reager Industries at a discount because it was flawed and deemed unsuitable for the automotive industry. Although the material had cosmetic blemishes that would prevent its utilization in the automotive sector, it was as bullet resistant as first-rate alloy. Over the years, the company had acquired a substantial amount of such material, and the peacekeepers had managed to buy it for a fraction of what a similar quantity of the standard alloy would have cost. Peter Boyd, the engineer of the Constitution, had worked with teams for days as they set up the fence, which had to be attached to a sturdy wooden frame that would hold it upright as it absorbed the impacts of the incoming projectiles. Peter assured the council that the fence would be bullet resistant up to fifty-caliber, but warned that anything larger would punch through it.
It had been necessary to set up the defensive works closer to the Washington Monument than the council would have preferred because of the contour of the land. The slight rise of the ground in the area they wanted would have left the rear lines of the peacekeepers on the ground exposed to enemy fire.
Gun ports, or small openings in a defensive works from which a rifleman can fire his weapon, perforated the wall at regular intervals. Those ports were situated both high and low. This would give the peacekeepers the option to fire from a seated or prone position.
Jim and Pete had just completed their inspection of the defensive works when Pete asked him for an update on personnel.
“We’ve got more men coming in on the Colorado, Oklahoma, and the Oregon,” Jim explained. “We’ll be thin on the line, but we’ll be able to fill it.”
“We?” asked Pete. “You’ll be in the Valiant leading the air campaign.”
“Not this time,” Jim said adamantly with a shake of his head. “Bill can handle the air coordination. My crew is capable of handling the ship in battle without my presence. They are all seasoned officers who know their jobs well.”
“Is this all about me refusing to sit out the battle in one of the ships?” Pete asked.
Jim shook his head, and then he said, “No, Pete. This is all about a man deciding how to live his life, and if necessary, how he wants to die…”
“Damnit, Jim, how long do you intend to play that game with me?” Pete asked.
“Game?” Jim asked. “Game!” he said again, only this time he raised his voice in anger. “Damnit, Pete. Do you really think my decision is based on yours? Well, if you do, then you can just forget that, because it isn’t. It’s based on the fact that we are bringing in nearly two hundred men who aren’t ready for this sort of combat. I’m one of the men who’ll be asking them to stand on that damned defensive line against overwhelming odds. Do you really think I can sit on my ass in the relative safety of a ship and leave them to face their fate on the ground?”
“No,” Pete answered. “No, Jim, I don’t because that’s exactly why I couldn’t,” Pete said with a smile. “I’m sorry,” he added.
For a moment, it looked to Pete as if Jim would tell him what he could do with his apology; then his friend relaxed. “It’s alright, Pete. We’ve both been under a strain the past day and a half. For the record, I’m doing what I feel is a moral obligation.”
“I think, maybe I taught you too well in some regards,” Pete said.
“And I believe I had some basic moral values before we even met,” Jim replied with a grin to soften the implied criticism. Then with a laugh he added, “Ok, maybe I didn’t act accordingly, but I did have moral values before we met.”
For a moment, a fond expression came across Pete’s features as he looked at the man he admired and thought of almost as a son. “I have to admit that I’ll feel better with you helping lead the rest of the ground forces. The seasoned peacekeepers will be edgy, but they’ll stand their ground and fight the way they’ve been trained. It’s the large percentage of green recruits that most concerns me.”
Shrugging, Jim said, “We are doing all that we can to see to it that they get the safest possible combat positions, but the reality of the situation is that we could easily end up being overrun by the enemy.”
Jim paused and looked intently into his mentor’s eyes before he continued. Glancing around the area, he noted that there was no one within earshot. “Pete, if it came down to it, would Bill obey an order to fire the shotgun weapon on our position?”
Pete’s face grew troubled as he contemplated how he wanted to answer Jim’s question. Jim waited, knowing that Pete was thinking the matter over carefully before addressing such an important subject. Finally, Pete said, “If Bill genuinely thinks we are losing the ground war and are overrun, he might follow that order, but I’d say the odds are better that he’d attempt some sort of rescue if he could figure out a way to do so without recklessly endangering his crew.”
“Pete, there wouldn’t be time to do that and prevent the wholesale capture of our people. You know as well as I do what they’d do to us if they capture our people. I think we’d better go have a talk with Bill. That weapon would prevent a catastrophe. It’d be bad enough if we were annihilated on the ground, but to provide the enemy with human shields for them to utilize is unacceptable,” Jim stated unequivocally.
Nodding his agreement, Pete said, “Bill’s not going to like this, but you’re right. We’d better make sure he understands that the no negotiation policy is in effect even if they capture us.”
Jim nodded his agreement. “Let’s go speak to him now. I’ve got a hunch the patrols will spot the armada heading our way sometime today. Once we engage the fleet at sea, there may not be time for this conversation.”
“I’ll contact Bill and have him land the Constitution nearby,” Pete said.
***
Far out to sea, the Arizona was pacing a large flotilla that the battle group they had encountered the previous day eventually linked up with in the early morning hours. In order to recharge the batteries of the ship, the captain had ordered the Arizona to go into surface ship mode. The drones had been dispatched on surveillance missions. One was monitoring the assembling fleet from a safe distance while the rest formed a protective cone around the Arizona. Captain Wilcox had his patrol ship hanging back a few miles from the enemy. He had the Arizona in energy conservation mode in order to facilitate the recharging, so all non-essential electrical use was shut down. Abe and Lieutenant Farns had meticulously gone through the ship shutting down all extraneous usage, and on the Arizona, there was a considerable amount.
During a break for the control room crew, Namid approached Jack and said, “Rufus won’t be able to fly his fighter, but Rex says he could fly the Arizona in a pinch.”
Jack nodded his head in understanding, but withheld comment.
“Lieutenant Farns says the fighter is airworthy, but with all due respect to the lieutenant, he’s not an experienced pilot. You need to know if you can launch the fighter, if the need arises, and we both know it will. I’m the only replacement you have available, so I need to determine the condition of the fighter,” she said quietly.
“I know, Namid. I’d rather have you flying the Arizona because you work so well with the gunner, and I don’t want to use Rufus. He needs more time to heal before getting into combat, so I’ll have to use our alternate pilot. He’s good, but lacks combat experien
ce,” Jack said.
“So was I, until I actually got to fly combat missions. Mark will do just fine, but I’d ask Gunny to help him from time to time, and tell Mark he’d be wise to listen. Gunny is a natural, and he can help Mark tremendously if he heeds his advice,” Namid said reassuringly.
“The fighter has been rearmed. Just remember that I don’t want to attract the attention of the pirates until we are combat ready. Take the fighter out and perform your tests, but try to stay close and get back to us at the first sign of trouble,” Jack said.
“Understood, Captain,” Namid said. Grinning impishly, she asked, “Permission to kiss the captain, sir?”
“Granted,” replied Jack with a smile.
Moments later, when the two broke their embrace, Jack said, “I’ll have the lieutenant provide a security detail while you are getting into the fighter, but don’t go out until you hear from me. I’m going to the control room to check on the enemy. Once I’m sure it’s safe to go out, I’ll let you know.”
“That’s fine. That’ll give me time to hit the head and then get suited up,” Namid responded.
“I want you to wear the experimental armor. That stuff saved Rufus,” Jack explained.
“It’ll be more uncomfortable than my armor, but after hearing about the punishment it could take, I’d be a fool to decline its use just because it isn’t anatomically correct,” Namid said with a grin.
In the control room, Jack quickly ascertained that beyond the addition of a few more ships to the growing pirate fleet, the situation was unchanged. He issued the orders that sent Lieutenant Farns and his security team to the cargo bay where they would link up with Namid who was waiting to test the fighter. He then informed the duty crew who had just resumed their posts that Namid was going to be testing the fighter. He told Mark Jackson that he would need to stay in the pilot’s position until further notice. He then followed Namid’s advice by asking the gunner to assist him with tactical guidance if needed. He told Mark that in Namid’s opinion, Gunny’s suggestions should be regarded diligently.
When the captain left the control room, Mark was speaking earnestly with Lieutenant Rockwell regarding different battle scenarios. The captain could easily see that the man was pleased at the opportunity to be able to log more time as pilot of the ship.
In the cargo bay, Jack soon discovered they had a problem. Namid quickly explained that it would be impossible for her to climb the access ladder with the new armor equipped. It was too much weight for her bad knee to bear during the ascent.
“I’ll have to pull the armor up after me once I get topside,” Namid stated. “Once I’m on top of the ship I can equip the armor. I can manage climbing into the cockpit with it equipped, but that ladder would be impossible for me, encumbered by this much weight,” she explained.
“I’ll go topside with her and pull the gear up, Captain. She shouldn’t be alone up there while she’s busy equipping gear,” stated Lieutenant Farns.
“I can manage, sir,” Namid stubbornly insisted. She hated it when people made special allowances for her because of her small physical disability that only rarely interfered with the performance of her duty.
“I’m sure you could, pilot,” Jack stated. “But the lieutenant is right. It would be a breach of security protocols, so he’ll accompany you.”
Turning to the lieutenant, Jack said, “At last report, the closet ships are about two miles out, but watch carefully. The pace of the gathering is increasing. The last few ships came from the south, which will be our port side. Keep a close watch all around, but be especially vigilant to our port side.”
“Will do, sir,” the lieutenant responded.
Ten minutes later, Namid was airborne in the fighter. As she tested the aircraft, Namid felt that old familiar exhilaration that she always felt when she was airborne in the remarkably agile little planes. She loved flying the Arizona, but the fighters would always be first in her heart.
She took the fighter out on a circular flight path to the west away from the gathering fleet. In fifteen minutes, she knew that the fighter was indeed ready for combat duty, but she was enjoying her flight so much that she opted to fly a brief reconnaissance mission.
Turning her fighter to the east, Namid went to full acceleration. She reveled in the sensation as the acceleration shoved her deeper into the pilot’s seat, but she throttled back and came to a stop as she approached the advance drone that was monitoring the pirate fleet. Squinting at the distant fleet in order to improve her vision, Namid noted something odd. She activated her camera and then zoomed in on the activity that had drawn her attention. Cursing under her breath, Namid activated her radio and said, “Arizona, I am sending you my video feed. The Captain needs to see this.”
“Roger, Phoenix, I am set to receive,” responded Sharon.
In the control room of the Arizona, Jack stared at the scene being sent by Namid. Instantly, she had recognized the significance of what was transpiring. The munitions ship was transferring supplies to a ship. Other vessels were snuggled up nearby, and would probably be resupplied as well.
Walking over to the drone operator who was flying the forward scout, he glanced at the monitor and saw that the pilot’s camera was set at wide angle, the better to see approaching vessels. His camera showed nothing odd occurring.
Returning to his seat, Jack opened the intercom and said, “All hands, prepare for battle maneuvers.” Closing the intercom, Jack said, “Put me in Namid’s channel.”
“Done, Captain,” replied Sharon almost instantly.
“Phoenix, we are about to make an attack run. You are cleared to attack the main target, but hit it and get out of there. Don’t linger in the vicinity. With no other targets for them to shoot, you’ll draw all their fire.”
“Understood, Captain. I’ll go light up their life,” Namid said gamely.
“You just make sure they don’t light up yours,” Jack responded.
Namid flew a circular approach that would balance the danger with the chances of a successful attack. She couldn’t come at the ship from the stern because the wheelhouse of the ship sat in the stern of the vessel. Therefore, it would make the bombing she had in mind more difficult if not outright impossible to accomplish. She would have preferred to approach the ship bow first, but that would have exposed her to too many vessels as she flew up the length of the convoy toward the target. Since ships were still approaching from the port side of the armada, she opted to make her attack run from the starboard side. She planned to make the strike and then execute a hard turn to port and accelerate away from the area.
As Namid began her carefully thought out attack run, she had a premonition that there was incredible danger near the ship, and that it was a danger that her plan hadn’t taken into account at all.
She had her fighter up to attack speed as she executed her planned attack on the munitions ship. She was still hundreds of yards from the ship when the deck guns of the ship that was being loaded opened fire on her fighter. However, Namid ignored the tracers as the gunners sought to intercept her flight path. She had the fingers of her right hand on the three switches that would release her bombs, and was concentrating on her timing when she saw the telltale puffs of rocket propelled grenades being launched at her fighter. The impact of one of the RPGs on the side of her fighter violently jarred the aircraft, causing her right hand to put pressure on the release switches. As a result, the bombs were released about two seconds early. Instead of striking the munitions ship, the three high explosive bombs hit the deck of the ship that was being loaded. They hit near the stacked munitions crates. The resultant secondary explosions rocked the bomb-damaged ship.
Namid had successfully escaped the area and was considering turning and making another attempt on the munitions ship when she heard Jack’s voice shout a warning in her headset. “Get out of there, Namid. They fired a rocket!”
Namid threw the throttle to full, and then she executed a turn to port while simultaneously dropping t
wo hundred feet of altitude. “I could use a hand here guys,” Namid said calmly into her radio.
“We’re trying to target,” Jack responded.
Namid saw a laser flash past her cockpit. There was an explosion aft of her fighter. The shockwave sent her fighter spinning out of control, but Namid quickly recovered from the spin. Thanks to their unique drive systems, the peacekeeper fighters were incredibly stable in flight.
“Bring your bird in, Phoenix. From the looks of things, it took a hit to the battery compartment. You’re leaving a wake of battery fluid now,” Jack advised.
“Roger, Captain. Power levels are falling. Can Mark lend a hand? I doubt I’ll have power long enough to reach you,” Namid responded. Her voice was calm, but Namid felt certain the crew of the Arizona could hear her heart pounding in her chest. That had been close. Too damned close.
Jack glanced at the pilot in concern. “Do your best, Mark. Get us under her fighter,” the captain ordered.
“Aye, Captain,” the man grimly replied. He could see the leak, and it was a bad one.
“Try a slip maneuver, Mark. That will save seconds on the approach,” advised the gunner in the seat next to the pilot.
“Alright, someone let Namid know what I’m doing,” Mark responded.
Jack informed her by radio and then he activated the intercom. “Eddy, get a rescue team ready, Namid is in trouble and she’s attempting a landing.”
“We’re on it, Captain. Sharon gave us a heads up,” responded Lieutenant Farns via the intercom.
Jack glanced at Sharon and nodded in appreciation.
“She’s going for an altitude for us to make the attempt,” Sharon reported.
“Executing slip maneuver,” Mark stated as he put the Arizona into a sliding turn.
Jack was about to order the drones to guard them during their point of vulnerability, but the ship gave a violent lurch.
“She’s down on the ship,” reported a drone operator. His voice sounded concerned as he added, “She hit hard, Captain. Really hard, but she managed to lock down her fighter.”