by Ricky Sides
“Be careful, Jim. If you men are cut off from the rest of us, things could get ugly in a hurry,” Pete warned.
“Turn on the lights for me, so I can see when I’m coming back,” Jim said with a smile.
“Huh?” Pete asked in surprise, and Jim pointed to the giant flagpole situated behind them. “Oh yeah, in all the excitement, we forgot to light it up, but that’s good. I’ll wait till you’re ready to leave, and then light it up. That should distract the enemy for a few minutes, and make it less likely they’ll spot you. Looking directly at that light will ruin their night vision, and it’s human nature to stare at a light when you’re out in the dark.”
***
The Havana banked hard to port and the gunner fired the rear laser. It struck the wheelhouse window. In rapid succession, that laser blinked on and off eight times. Each time it did so, another hole was bored through the glass and any occupants who happened to be in the way inside the wheelhouse.
The California flew in at the same ship from the portside. Her main forward laser lanced out and struck the side of the wheelhouse. Red pulses soon raced down the carrier beam and secondary explosions resulted.
The gun crew on deck tried their best to target the Havana, but the Peacekeeper opened fire with its laser minigun, sweeping through the personnel on the deck.
Lightning flashed across the sky. Huge waves beat at the targeted ship. With no one at the wheel to keep the bow into the weather, a thirty-foot wave soon struck the ship broadside. The doomed vessel rolled on its side. Another smaller wave struck it, and that wave capsized the ship.
“That was the last of them, Captain,” announced the gunner.
Nodding his head tiredly, Tim said, “I need the command channel Patricia.”
When she nodded that he had the desired channel, Tim said, “That appears to be the lot of them Captain Marino. We’ll be heading for the Louisiana base now, before this storm can get any worse.”
“Thank you for your assistance, Captain Wilison. Are you certain you don’t want to land in Cuba for the night? We can sit on the battlements and watch the storm move past the island. You’re all more than welcome,” Ramon said.
“We’ll pass, Ramon. None of us has much stomach for watching this storm. I think it’s actually making me seasick,” Tim explained. “Besides, we need to get to land where we can recharge the batteries, and that’s not likely in this cloud cover.”
“God be with you all,” Ramon said as the ships of the American peacekeepers departed.
The Peacekeeper led the way flying into the weather, but neither the ships nor the crews had the energy to spare for a wide detour. Twenty minutes into their flight for Louisiana, they encountered a region of intense lightning. Tim was about to order a detour when Pol said, “I think you should maintain your course, Captain. In fact, I think you should bring us a bit closer.”
“Aren’t you concerned about lightning hitting us, Pol?” asked Tim.
“Ordinarily, yes I would be concerned, but we are so low on power now that I believe the ships can handle the power being generated. Don’t worry, Captain. I don’t want us to come directly into contact with the bolts of lightning. I just want us in proximity sufficient for the charging system to benefit from the intense light produced. With your permission, I’ll pilot us in. The other ships can follow me. We needn’t be close to the active area long. Just a few minutes will recharge our depleted energy levels,” Pol explained.
Tim thought about it for a moment, and then he nodded his acceptance of the plan. “Communications, tell the rest of the fleet to follow us in single file. Advise them to mimic our course as closely as possible. Helm, Pol will be piloting us, but I want you to watch what he does. If this works, we may need to perform this maneuver again someday, and if that happens I want you to be able to execute it.”
Pol took the ship in closer to the lightning laced section of the storm. As he calmly flew into the teeth of the tempest, he spoke to Patricia, saying, “Patricia, please monitor the power readouts. Let me know when we hit eighty-five percent.”
“I will, Pol,” Patricia assured the scientist.
Continuing into the thickening cloud cover, Pol soon reached the outer edge of the lightning active area. Lightning flashed off the port side of the Peacekeeper. It seemed close to the crew, but Pol assured them that it was at least a thousand feet higher than they were flying.
Outside the ship, multiple bolts of cloud-to-cloud lightning created an electric latticework, illuminating the bottom of the clouds and the peacekeeper patrol ships passing near. One bolt of lightening was so intensely bright that it made the interior lighting of the Peacekeeper seem dark by comparison, and for a moment, the crew wondered if they had lost their control room lighting altogether, but then the light produced by the lightning disappeared, and the control room resumed its normal appearance.
“Eighty percent, Pol,” warned Patricia.
“Already?” asked Tim.
“It doesn’t take long in light this intense,” Pol observed.
“The other ships have reached capacity and are pulling out of the hyperactive lightning area,” Patricia reported.
“So are we,” Pol stated. He turned the Peacekeeper hard to starboard and accelerated to top speed away from the area. He pulled the Peacekeeper back into the lead position and then exchanged seats with the pilot.
“Well done, Pol. This will make it possible for us to fly straight on for the capital. You just saved us hours of downtime, and more importantly, you may have just saved a lot of peacekeeper lives,” Tim said.
“Patricia, put me in the command channel,” Tim instructed.
“Done,” she acknowledged a moment later.
“Captains, The Peacekeeper is flying straight to Base 1 where we will rearm and then proceed to Washington. You know your ships and crew. If you feel you need to head for the Louisiana base, then feel free to do so. Otherwise, I suggest you rotate your crew and let the relief crew fly you to Base 1.”
All of the captains were aware of the dire circumstances in which the northern peacekeepers were struggling. One after another, the captains declared their intentions to fly with the Peacekeeper. Tim thanked them for their dedication and advised them all to try to get some rest prior to landing at Base 1.
Turning to his wife, Tim said, “Patricia, get a message to the Louisiana base. Let them know we are altering our plans and heading for Washington. If I know Jeff Brown, he had the fighters hooked up to electric chargers the moment they reached the base. Tell him if the planes are ready, then I want every fighter with a pilot fit to fly to meet us at Base 1. We’ll stop there briefly to rearm and then proceed to Washington, and you had better send a message to New Orleans. Let Mayor Reagan know that it looks as if there’s a hurricane in the Gulf that could possibly hit in his area, although it looks to me as if it will track west of the city somewhere between them and Lake Charles. Include that warning in the Lake Charles communiqué.”
***
Jim led a group of fifty men to the three maintenance sleds that would transport them to their destination. The sleds were far enough from the defensive works that no light from that position revealed their presence. Seventeen men boarded each of the sleds and they silently lifted off into the darkness. The sleds were heavily overloaded, but Jim knew they could transport the weight.
The river didn’t end where the pirate fleet had stopped, but it did narrow considerably and lacked the draft necessary for the larger vessels to navigate. The three peacekeeper sleds crossed the river in silence. Many of the men nervously watched the pirate ships for signs that they had been spotted, but the pirates were concentrating on the defenses and the assembling horde of pirates preparing to launch their night attack on the wall.
When they reached the bank of the river, the peacekeepers turned their sleds to a southeasterly course. They soon came to a stop beside a camouflaged structure composed of netting covered with leaves. At a signal from Jim, two heavily armed guards step
ped from the nearby shadows. “Everything is ready, sir,” one of the men whispered.
“Good. Help distribute the weapons,” Jim ordered. “Oh, and when we leave, you two will leave with us.”
“Sir there’s a lot of equipment here. I can stay and guard it,” one of the men volunteered.
“I’m not leaving anyone here after we finish our mission. We leave it. You’re more important than the equipment,” Jim stated.
The man nodded his acceptance, thanked Jim, and then moved on to help set up the equipment, some of which had been pre staged.
“Sergeant Walker?” Jim whispered loudly.
“Here, sir,” the sergeant whispered from amongst a group of three men to Jim’s right.
“Get your team on the fifty, but wait for my signal to open fire. Check the weapon and make your standard preparations,” Jim said.
“Yes, Admiral,” the sergeant said. The three men quietly moved away toward what appeared in the darkness to be a large bush. Working quickly, they uncovered the netting that concealed a fifty-caliber machinegun and boxes of linked ammunition.
One of the guards handed Jim a missile launcher. These were much more powerful than the smaller rocket propelled grenades that the peacekeepers had utilized earlier. Jim asked, “Has everyone got one of these now?”
“No sir. We ran out. Three men, myself included, don’t have one,” the guard answered.
“Are you certified with this type weapon?” Jim asked.
“Yes, Admiral. I fired them in the military,” the man stated.
“Well, I’m not. Here, you fire this thing. They’re too valuable to waste,” Jim responded.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll make the shot count,” the guard said with a smile.
“I’m sure you will,” Jim replied.
He took a few moments to organize the men so that they knew the positions they were to target, and then Jim stood staring across the river at the illuminated flag. He thought of Francis Scott Key and the war of 1812. “Now I know how you felt,” he thought. Just as that historical figure had before him, Jim wondered if the flag he was observing would be standing when daylight came. He knew it was going to be a long night.
Jim signaled the fifty-caliber team to fire in ten seconds. The missile launchings would coincide with the machinegun attack. Once the weapons had been discharged, the teams were to board the sleds for the return trip to the peacekeeper encampment.
With a rhythmic pounding, the heavy machinegun opened fire on the ships near the center of the fleet. Raking across the decks, the gunner managed to hit more than a few men who had stopped what they were doing and rushed to the rails to see what was transpiring.
To Jim’s left, dozens of powerful rockets launched. They flew the short distance to their targets in seconds. A good portion of the rockets targeted the ships in the center of the fleet. Several sought out the damaged ships at the rear in an effort to sink them, thus more effectively blockading the enemy inside a small box. However, the majority of the rockets struck the ships nearest the opposite bank, and the men and equipment preparing for a land attack on the peacekeeper defenses.
Jim got the men moving for the sleds the moment the last rocket was fired at the enemy. He knew the trip back across the river would be much more dangerous than the trip to the secreted weapons. This time, the enemy knew they were there, and they would be watching for them to attempt to get back to the fortifications near the Washington Monument.
Before he left for the sleds, Jim walked over to the heavy machinegun, which had been set up near the bank of the river. The peacekeepers possessed very few such weapons. Therefore, he regretted the need to leave this one behind. He was tempted to destroy it, but due to their rarity, he didn’t. Nevertheless, the last thing they needed was for the enemy to discover the weapon and seize it. To prevent that from happening, he grasped the handle tilted it over until gravity took possession of the weapon and it flipped upside down into the river. Thus satisfied that he had denied the enemy the use of the weapon, he hurried after the men who were boarding the sleds.
The maintenance sleds had been upgraded for the mission. They were equipped with four-foot tall walls of Huxley alloy. These walls would offer the troops protection against small arms fire, but would offer little protection against sustained attacks by large caliber machineguns or rockets. The pilots would be the most vulnerable, and the sleds were not built for speed.
The plan was for the sleds to travel along this side of the river about half a mile and then cross, but something had gone wrong. Jim saw the lead sled pull back out over the river far short of the distance he had intended to put between the sleds and the enemy ships. He had a split second to decide whether the remaining sleds should stay with the lead sled, or follow the original plan. “Follow the leader!” Jim shouted as the pilot of his sled looked to him in confusion. Then he instructed all of the men to kneel down behind the protective barrier.
He had just begun to think they might make the crossing without incident, when a bright spotlight came on and swung in their direction. He saw the powerful beam of light flash past the lead sled. The man operating the light was seeking a surface craft, so he had his light aimed beneath the sleds.
The spotlight tracked all the way across the river to the bank they had just vacated. The beam of light then elevated and begin to track back across the river. He knew that most likely the man behind the light was still seeking surface craft, and had just elevated the light in order to search further upriver. Unfortunately, he was now searching on a level that would reveal their sleds in a matter of moments.
Jim ordered his pilot to drop the sled beneath the approaching searchlight. The pilot of the sled behind Jim’s saw the maneuver and followed suit, but the pilot of the lead sled was oblivious to the danger.
Jim sent a radio warning, and the errant pilot belatedly began to descend, but by then it was too late to escape the searchlight.
The spotlight must have been working in conjunction with other personnel, because a heavy machinegun opened fire on the sled almost immediately. Multiple rockets were also launched. The alloy was able to deflect the bullets, but Jim feared the rockets would blast it out of the sky. When his sled came under attack, the pilot gamely took evasive action. He radically altered the altitude of the sled, and for a moment, the man managed to lose the spotlight, but then others switched on and joined in the hunt.
They were three quarters of the way across the river. Jim opted to press on, rather than attempt to alter course. In his mind, the shortest route was the safest at this point. Then the enemy altered their strategy. They poured forth such a massive barrage that all of the sleds began to take fire, whether they were illuminated or not.
Jim ordered the pilots to lock their flight controls and hunker down in the sleds with their passengers. He knew it would take approximately a minute and a half to cover the remaining distance to the bank of the river. He further estimated that it would take them another two minutes to pass over the fortified wall that the peacekeepers had erected. Only then would they be able to land safely.
For the volunteers who had opted to take on the mission, it was a long three and a half minutes of almost constant hammering at the protective wall of the sled by the persistent gunners of the enemy fleet. Jim contacted Teresa and asked her to inform him the moment all three sleds had made it past the wall so that they could land. When his communications officer was able to report that all three sleds were now over the safe zone, Jim ordered the pilots to kill the forward momentum and land the sleds. The three pilots managed to do this without exposing themselves to enemy fire by kneeling on the deck of the sled.
A drone flew down to hover beside the sled as Jim climbed out. “Dad, are you alright?” Evan’s voice, emanating from the drone, asked with evident concern.
“I’m fine, Son,” Jim responded. Then he asked, “How’s Lina?”
“She’s sleeping now. Nurse Edith asked us to leave so we wouldn’t disturb her rest. She said
Lina would be just fine, but that she’d probably be weak for a few days after her ordeal but Lina plans to report for duty when she wakes up,” stated Evan.
Jim grunted and said, “That doesn’t surprise me.” Then he said, “I see Peter got one of the drones working. How’s that project progressing?”
“Peter fixed the first drone while we watched. Lisa and I helped him get some of the drones working, and then took over while he went on another assignment. We managed to fix five, but the rest are damaged beyond our ability to repair them. Peter may be able to fix those, but we couldn’t,” reported Evan.
“Thanks, Evan, and be sure to thank Lisa for me. It’s going to be a long night. You and Lisa should get some sleep. Other operators can take over the drones,” said Jim.
“We will soon, Dad. But we just got the drones working and want to make certain they are working properly,” Evan explained.
“Alright, just don’t stay up all night. I need you sharp for the battle tomorrow,” Jim stated.
“You can count on me. I won’t let you down,” Evan promised.
“You never have, Son,” Jim responded, and then he said goodbye, turned, and walked away.
The Admiral knew that the men in the sleds had been lucky. A quick examination of the sleds proved that the large caliber heavy machinegun fire had penetrated all three, but in all three cases, the projectiles had spent their energy punching through the Huxley alloy. The men who had been hit by the spent rounds would be sore as hell for days to come, but their multi-layered protective gear had prevented their deaths.
Jim walked the short distance to the medical aid station. Maggie told him that Pete had gathered a team of men and left for a sniper mission. “Pete said you’d know the details, Jim. He left in a hurry and didn’t have time to give me any further information. I hope he hasn’t gone outside the fence,” Maggie said, giving voice to her chief concern.