He didn’t show any fear, and because of that, neither did they.
Mudawar returned to his post next to Ather at the helm and checked the decks of the boats on either side of him. The crews looked to be similarly ready for the attack. They began to slowly drift apart, spacing themselves out to allow a simultaneous broadside attack.
“The wind has calmed not to make us move slowly, but to allow us to relish in our victory.” Mudawar looked over at the fortification to the northwest and retrieved the covered lantern from his pedestal.
When he finished his silent prayer, he would signal the fortifications.
Chapter 5
Hard Aground
Lieutenant Smith opened the cabin door. “Skipper, that boat’s hard up on something and the kedging ain’t working.” Smith pointed to the frigate that was leaning over more but still not moving.
The kedging lines, strung from the deck up through the masts and down to anchors about one-hundred meters away, pulled the ship’s mast further down toward the water but still hadn’t angled the ship’s keel off whatever surface it was resting on. What it did instead was to markedly tilt the ship to her port side, so the cannons on that side were pointed down toward the water and those starboard harmlessly into the air.
“Think we should try to tow them off?” asked Smith.
Williams surveyed the situation. “Have we talked with her skipper?”
MacFarland stepped forward. “We tried raising them on the radio, but they’re not responding.”
Williams nodded. “Grassley, what’s our power situation?”
“E-drive’s out. Some of the other systems are coming on line. Slowly. Diesel and lights are about all we got. I think your little NLE experiment fried everything. ”
“Drop the attitude, EN1.” Williams glared at Grassley.
Grassley didn’t know Williams that well, but it seemed that he referred to them only by position and rank when he was either deep in thought or pissed off. Whichever it was now, Grassley didn’t care.
“It wasn’t my experiment, so let’s work the solution.” Williams looked away and decided to let Grassley slide. “I don’t think we should just grab one of their kedge lines. Everyone agree?”
MacFarland nodded and looked at the more experienced sailors.
Smith nodded, but Grassley ignored the question.
“With our power, we’d snap a mast or pull her right over,” said Chavez.
“We got to talk to her. Helm, take us to their high side. See if we can hail them.”
“Aye.” Grassley nudged the throttles forward and guided the Dauntless around the frigate’s stern.
“What’s our depth?”
Grassley looked at the depth gauge. “Seven, going down to nine or ten meters out here.”
“At least the sonar works,” said Williams. He nodded towards the frigate. “What do you think she draws?”
“I wanted to research that,” said MacFarland. “Not having a computer really sucks.”
“I’d guess twenty, twenty-five feet,” said Grassley. “That’d be seven or eight meters.”
“Man, it is beautiful, isn’t it?” Williams walked to the starboard side to watch as they motored behind the frigate. “Philadelphia.” Williams pointed to the ship’s name carved into the stern.
MacFarland and Grassley looked out the windows as they passed around the stern and turned broadside.
“It is impressive,” said Grassley. “Look at the woodwork.”
“What do you think she’s doing here?” MacFarland turned toward Williams. “Shouldn’t we have heard about this?”
Williams nodded. “Yeah. If the damn computers worked, I’d pull up the SITREP.” He paused. “Philadelphia. Something about that name.”
“Historical?” asked MacFarland.
“Yeah. Can’t remember how, though. Can’t remember a lot of stuff now.” Williams shook his head. He grabbed a megaphone and ops checked it, but it and the spare were both dead. “Charge these up, will ya?” he asked of no one in particular. “Helm, hold us here.”
Williams went out on the deck and cupped his hands to his mouth. “Captain of the Philadelphia! This is Commander Williams of the USS Dauntless! Can we be of assistance?”
Williams saw two men appear over the Philadelphia’s bulwark. They looked down, pointed over the wooden railing and began yelling. “There it is!”
An instant later, four men appeared. They looked over, disappeared and returned, but this time preceded by four rifle barrels that glimmered in the moonlight as they aimed at the Dauntless.
“Full speed!” Williams ran back into the cabin. “Full speed! Take cover!”
Grassley walled the throttles and skirted along the hull.
Williams grabbed on to his chair and climbed in. “Get us out of rifle range!”
The crew of the Dauntless barely heard the volley of rifle reports over the twin diesels at full power, but they did hear Brewster yell.
“Ow! Ah, dammit!” Brewster flinched and grabbed for his right shoulder. “Fuckin’ A! Did they get me?” He pulled his hand away from the shoulder flap of his armored vest. His fingertips were bloody. “Fuck!” He sounded more agitated than hurt. “Where’s the doc?”
MacFarland spun her chair aft and tried her throat microphone, but it wasn’t working. “I’ll take him down!”
“Negative,” barked Williams. “Man your station! Smith, you go.”
Brewster leaned against the side of the cabin. “It ain’t bad.”
Williams strapped in to his chair. “EN, take us out to open water.”
———————
“Got another one, doc.” Smith guided Brewster into the galley.
Hospital Corpsman Third Class Carlos Ruiz was leaning over the table where one of the rescued sailors was laying. “How bad is it?” Ruiz looked over and saw Brewster holding his shoulder.
“Not bad,” replied Brewster. “I can wait if he’s messed up.”
Ruiz looked back down at the man on the table. “I haven’t been able to check. Been trying to keep him from sliding off the table. Are they done screwing around up there?”
“We’re heading to open water,” answered Smith. “The, uh—forget it. Wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Give me a hand, huh?” Ruiz pulled his hospital scissors from his bag. “Just hold him in case he starts sliding off again.” Ruiz carefully cut away the thick blue wool fabric surrounding the wood impaling the sailor’s side.
Ruiz felt around the man’s waist so see if the inch-wide spear of a splinter went all the way through. “Brew, come here and let me see.”
Brewster turned his shoulder toward Ruiz and pulled back his vest.
Ruiz laughed. “You just got grazed. Don’t even need stitches. Will you get me a couple’a blankets?”
Brewster snorted. “Yeah.”
Smith looked over at the second survivor, who appeared to be uninjured. “What’s your name?”
The wet sailor looked terrified and examined Smith’s uniform instead of replying. Smith’s dark blue digital camouflage print, black boots, armored vest, and kevlar helmet provided quite the contrast to the man’s costume of white pants and blue shirt.
“I’m an American,” Smith said calmly. “Do you speak English?”
The man nodded.
“You’re on board the USS Dauntless. I’m Lieutenant Gil Smith.”
The man stiffened to attention, and stared away from Smith’s face, but still didn’t speak.
“What’s your name, sir?”
He didn’t flinch.
“Sir, I must know your name.”
“I–uh–sir–Midshipman Elias Crothers, sir.”
“Welcome aboard, Midshipman Crothers.” Smith leaned over and extended his hand.
Crothers raised his hand to render a palm-forward salute.
Smith saluted back, but Crothers looked even more confused. Smith pointed toward the side wall of the galley. “Why don’t you grab some coffee?�
�
Crothers looked toward the stainless steel cabinet but didn’t move.
“It’s free.”
Crothers looked back down at the other survivor.
“We got him. Go ahead.”
Crothers paused and then stiffened again. “Aye, aye, sir.”
Brewster returned with two thick wool blankets.
“Thanks Brew.” Smith nodded toward Crothers. “Give one to him.”
Crothers ran his hand on the metal cabinet and then up to the hot glass decanter of coffee that was locked in place.
“Here you go. Watch this.” Brewster rotated a cup from the dispenser and pulled it free. He handed it to Crothers then flipped the retaining arm off the decanter and filled his mug. “Just like that.”
“Thank you kindly, sir.”
Smith watched Crothers. “Most of the electrical systems were off line, but we made sure the coffee was fired up pretty quickly.”
Crothers’ eyes darted wildly around the galley, and he rubbed his thumb along the edge of the mug. He carefully took a sip, smiled, and took a longer drink.
“Brew, take his pants off.” Ruiz nodded toward his attendee. “Wrap that blanket around him.”
Brewster hesitated.
“Come on,” said Ruiz. “He’s freezing.”
Smith watched Crothers unlock the decanter to refill his coffee cup. “So what’s going on out there?”
Crothers looked up from his coffee. “Sir?”
“What were you doing in the water?”
“Sir, our boat was hit. It sunk.”
Smith smiled. “I know that. But what were you doing in the rowboat. Before it sank.”
“What kind of vessel is this?” Crothers looked at the ceiling, then rubbed the aluminum table. “Everything is iron.”
Smith wrinkled his brow.
“Lieutenant Smith to the bridge. Lieutenant Smith to the bridge.”
A startled Crothers looked up at the ceiling.
“Drink all you want. I’ll send one of the guys in with some dry clothes.”
Crothers stood at attention. Smith paused and looked at him. “As you were. Have a seat. We’ll be right with you.”
Smith found Lance Corporal Shawn Graves next door in the crew quarters organizing his gear. “Hey, Corporal?”
Graves looked back from his bunk then stood at attention, though much slower than Crothers had done. “Sir?”
“We picked up two men. They’re in the galley, one’s injured, the other’s drinking coffee. Need you to put a guard on them. And throw their clothes in the dryer. Maybe get the guy that’s drinking coffee some dry clothes while he’s waiting.”
“Now?” Graves looked agitated. “Sir?” he added.
“Yes, now.” Smith looked sternly at Graves. “He’s not a prisoner, but something’s off with this guy. Don’t let him outta your sight.”
———————
“Wish I had a goddam nav system.” Grassley scanned the horizon as the Dauntless cleared the mouth of the harbor at thirty knots. “Where do you want me to go?”
“Slow to five knots, present course.” Williams looked around the cabin. “Boats, find out where that round came through the cabin. See if there’s any other damage.”
“Aye, sir,” said Boatswain’s Mate Chavez.
“Ensign, take Shiv to inventory the ammo. And load ’em all with live rounds.”
“Aye!” she replied.
The crew jumped to action. Williams stood next to Grassley. “Can you hold position out here? There anything around us?”
Grassley shook his head. “I wish I knew.” He pulled back the throttles and unbuckled.
“Where’re you going?”
“I’ve got paper charts below.”
“Don’t leave your station. I’ll get someone to get ’em for you. Just hold position.” Williams scanned the dark horizon.
Grassley took a deep breath then sat back down. “Looks like you got us into a real situation, here.” He looked at Williams. Even though the cabin was still blacked out, there was enough moonlight for the two men to see each other’s expression.
“When we get clear, you and I are going to have a little talk.” Williams stared at Grassley.
Grassley looked pleased. “Aye.”
“Aye, sir,” corrected Williams.
Grassley turned to look ahead. “Aye, sir.”
Smith came up from below. “You wanted to see me, skip?”
It took Williams a few seconds to respond. “We gotta figure out what the hell’s going on here.”
Smith nodded. “I asked Corporal Graves to watch the survivors. Doc’s still working on one of ’em.”
“Good. I need you to work with Boats and Grassley on our systems. Find out what’s working, what’s not, and how long we’ll need to fix it.”
Grassley shook his head enough for Williams and Smith to notice.
“You got a better idea, EN1?” asked Smith.
“Boats and I can do that by ourselves. Maybe you two can figure out how we’re gonna explain to the bosses why we just sank a local’s old sailboat.”
Smith leaned on Grassley’s chair. “In case you hadn’t noticed, those numb-nuts in those ships decided to pick a fight with us.”
Grassley nodded. “So why don’t you start there? With the numb-nuts that are bleeding in our galley?” He shook his head again.
Smith looked at Williams and then at Grassley. “You’re crossing the line, EN1 Grassley. I’m about to write you up for insubordination.”
“Well, sir, I’d be careful about that. I might have to start asking why the gun cameras weren’t working when the skipper ordered us to fire on that little old sailboat.”
Smith’s eyes grew wide and the veins on his neck thickened.
Williams grabbed Smith’s shoulder. “I’ve already got this handled, LT. Right now, I need you all getting this boat on line so we can call in for help.”
Smith stared at Grassley for a few more moments then nodded. “Aye, sir.”
Williams went to the aft windows and looked out. Smith followed.
“What the hell are we gonna do with him, sir?”
Williams shrugged. “I’d relieve him if I didn’t need all hands. But for now, keep him busy. He’ll screw up.”
Smith looked back at Grassley, who was opening up an access panel under his console. “About those guys we rescued, sir. I think you should go talk to them.”
“I will. You just get to work.”
Chapter 6
Blood and Water
“As mighty as the black ship is, mere muskets scared it away,” Mudawar said quietly to Ather.
The dark boat had slithered quickly out of the harbor and into the darkness. As it fled, a tremendous roar echoed throughout the harbor and nearly drowned out the musket fire. The crew of the frigate fired another desperate volley at the ship, even though it was already far out of range.
All that it left was a great wake that spread from behind as though the ship had ripped open the surface of the sea. Mudawar imagined that he could follow that wake for hours to find exactly where the phantom ship had run to hide and lick its wounds. Then he imagined that if he did find that ship, he could capture it and make it his own. With a ship like that, he thought, he would have no equal on the sea.
An undisciplined crew might have cheered that the beast was gone, but none of the young men and boys on the four gunships made a sound. They knew that silence was needed for the next step, and Mudawar knew time was short until order on the frigate was restored.
“The thief is gone, Ather,” whispered Mudawar. “Take us behind her stern, before we are discovered.”
Mudawar signaled Hassad to follow and Ather steered his boat abaft the frigate.
As they got closer, Mudawar saw dozens of his brothers huddling in the water. Some clung to chunks of wood or each other. He didn’t see his father though, and that didn’t trouble him.
Mudawar signaled the other two gunboats to remain in pla
ce and provide cover. From the stern of the frigate, no cannons could hit their boats, and if they were spotted, only a few musketeers would be able to line up against them.
“Why don’t we attack?” whispered Ather.
Mudawar snapped his head towards his helmsman. “Alone?” he asked with quiet intensity. “With only four small boats?”
Ather stood proudly and nodded. “I am ready, Mudawar.”
Mudawar leaned in close to Ather. “You are a fool. Foolish like my father. We need more boats,” he said, pointing back to the docks.
Ather looked up at the frigate, canted to one side but still towering above them. “Then what are we doing here?”
Mudawar paused. “We also need men.” He scanned the men in the water again for his father.
———————
As soon as he saw the two gunboats nearing, Nasser grabbed a sheared piece of yardarm and quietly untangled it from his mast’s rigging. He slipped off his sandals and kicked silently toward the gunboats. Even though he recognized both boats, Nasser kicked his way to Hassad’s hull.
Two boys pulled him aboard Hassad’s boat, but his flowing tunic and the jacket that covered it were both heavy with water. It streamed off of him, making a sound like rain pouring off a roof.
“They’re trying to board,” a voice cried out from the frigate.
Nasser looked up at the ship and saw soldiers aiming their muskets through the open cannon ports. As the soldiers fired their muskets into the water, a volley of cannon fire thundered from the port.
Chaos erupted all around Nasser as the crew on Hassad’s ship returned fire. He looked back at his crew still swimming towards him, just in time to see another volley of musket rounds piercing the water. Three screamed out from the water and then went silent and still, and others thrashed wildly towards both gunships.
The Shores of Tripoli Page 5