Death Blow sts-14

by Keith Douglass

  “Any plans before then?”

  “Yeah, going to do our circus act. Two and I will do a fly-by at mast-top level one on each side of the ship, coming from her bow. Shake her up a little. Let her know for sure that we’re up here.”

  “When is the show? We figure she’s about half a mile behind us.”

  “Any minute now, we’re making our turn and lining up. You’ll hear us after we pass you.”

  “That damn frigate is gaining on us. I’m waiting for her to fire a shot across our bow and order us to stop.”

  “Would you?”

  “Not a chance. Another few minutes and we’ll be past the island and then three lousy miles and we’ll be in generally considered to be international water. She won’t have the guts to fire into us, even with a machine gun.”

  “We hope,” Murdock said.

  The two jets screamed past the big ship a quarter of a mile away not over fifty feet off the water and roared into the distance showing fiery jet exhausts behind them.

  “I’m always amazed at the raw power those jets have,” Captain Prestwick said. “I wonder if this will slow down the frigate at all? I better get back to the bridge.” He turned and left.

  “Couldn’t we use the EAR on the frigate?” Howie Anderson asked.

  “She won’t get close enough for that,” Murdock said. “They know about the patrol boats, that they were disabled. They won’t know how we did it, but they’ll stand off just to make sure. She might try to cut in front of us and make the liner turn, hoping to turn her all the way round and back into Chinese waters.”

  “We just cleared that big island,” Howie said.

  “Queen, I guess you heard us go by.”

  “Skyhigh, you were low on that one. Any reaction from the frigate?”

  “Not that we could see. She’s about a thousand yards behind you and gaining.”

  “Anything else you can do, Skyhigh?”

  “Only thing we’re authorized to do is fire some twenty millimeter over her bow. Discouragement.”

  “We’re well within range of her guns, but I don’t think she’ll fire on us. Will she fire on you?”

  “I don’t think so, unless we hit her with some of our warning shots. We’ll make damn sure not to hit the frigate. We’re moving on her now before she gets too close.”

  Murdock and Howie ran to the other side of the ship where they had a better view of the dark shadow of the frigate boiling up behind them. Now she was about five hundred yards back.

  The F18s came in one at a time, strafing with 20mm rounds across the bow of the destroyer thirty yards out. The big ship hesitated, then went back to full throttle.

  Murdock and Howie Anderson ran up to the bridge and got in contact with the planes again.

  “Queen, she isn’t going to give way. I can’t shoot her until she shows some aggressive act.”

  “Understand, Skyhigh.”

  “She’s coming closer,” Captain Prestwik said. “She’s trying to cut us off.”

  Murdock touched the Motorola mike. “EAR guns, get on the port side, both of you now.”

  Murdock watched the 350-foot-long Chinese frigate bristling with guns, rockets, and antennas charging toward them. The Chinese man-of-war was less than fifty yards behind them and Murdock felt his stomach twist.

  “She’s not trying to cut us off, Captain, she’s going to ram us. EARs are you ready?”

  Murdock listened to the earpiece.

  “Go, go,” both SEALs said.

  “When she gets to twenty-five yards and is still aimed at us amidships, blast the bridge and control area with three shots each. On my command.”

  Murdock watched the Chinese frigate move closer, it turned away a moment, then came back heading directly for the side of the big luxury liner.

  “Fire,” Murdock said into the Motorola mike.

  “Captain, hard right rudder to get away from her.”

  The captain hesitated, then gave the command and slowly the big ship began to turn away from the frigate.

  The first two rounds hit the frigate’s bridge, but Murdock couldn’t tell if they penetrated through the row of windows. He watched the second two rounds hit and sensed a change in the big frigate. It slowed, then slowed more until it was simply coasting ahead on its momentum.

  The shooters sensed it too and aimed their third shots at men near deck guns. The men went down and didn’t get up. The big luxury liner turned like a four hundred foot long log. Slowly, ever so slowly. The frigate came closer, closed the gap but it was only coasting along on the speed it had built up.

  “Nobody at the controls,” Murdock said. “Our enhanced audio rifle knocked out everyone on the bridge. She’s dead in the water until new personnel realize something is wrong and rush to the bridge. By that time we’ll be well out to sea.”

  They watched as the Queen veered away from the frigate that slowed and then stopped. It was a half mile behind them in minutes and the Captain shook Murdock’s hand.

  “She was going to ram us, damage us so we would have to return to the closest port, Hong Kong. It would be reported as an accidental collision in the South China Sea. Those damn Chinese are always plotting, aren’t they?”

  “They were this time.”

  “Queen, what the hell happened down there?” Skyhigh asked on the SATCOM. “Looked like that frigate was going to slam into the Queen amidships, then she slowed and stopped.”

  “Our secret,” Murdock said. “We zapped them with our new secret weapon. We knocked out everyone on the bridge. They’ll wake up in four hours with the granddaddy of all headaches.”

  “Can we fit one on my eighteen?”

  “Sorry, these are for grunts only. Thanks for slowing her down.”

  “We’ll cap you until you’re outside their twenty-mile zone, then we better head for the home field.”

  “Roger that, Skyhigh, and thank the Tomcats for us, too.”

  20

  Coronado, California

  Master Chief Petty Officer Gordon MacKenzie, switched the phone to the other hand. He wiped perspiration off his palm and then mopped his forehead with a tissue from a box on his desk.

  “Oh yes, Mrs. Fernandez, I am worried about what this might do to Nancy Dobler. That’s why I want you to be the one to tell her. Will Dobler has been wounded in action and survived and is still in the platoon. I want to be sure that she understands that the wound is not critical, he’s in no danger of dying, and that he should be treated there in the hospital onboard the aircraft carrier and then he’ll be sent home to Balboa here in about two weeks.”

  Maria Fernandez had cringed when the master chief called her, sure that her husband had been wounded. She had relaxed a little when she realized that it was Will Dobler. Then she was even more worried — about Nancy.

  “Master Chief, I’m glad you called me first. I’ll go over and see her today, set up a movie date for us and Milly DeWitt. We’re her support group. We’ll handle it. Tell her before we go out and get any crying jag over with, then have dinner and a movie…. Yes, I’ll call Milly at work and see if she can meet us at Nancy’s place.” She hesitated, wondering if the master chief should be the one to tell Nancy with her two friends there. She changed her mind and closed the talk on a high note about having the master chief over for a real southern crawfish dinner.

  Maria put down the phone and frowned. Nancy had been a little better lately after her last problem. She had cut way back on her drinking and refused to have any drugs in the house. For now, that is. Maria made reservations for three at eight o’clock at the Seafood Grotto. Nancy did love good seafood. Two hours at Nancy’s should be enough to get the crying all done. She smiled. She was sure before it was over, all three of them would be crying. At least a little.

  Milly offered only a quiet, “Oh, no,” when Maria told her the news. She said good idea about the dinner and movie. She’d be at Nancy’s by six.

  Maria had been to several Navy-sponsored forums and talks about how to
handle the stress on a family of wounds and MIA and KIA. They had been aimed at wives and even children of Navy personnel. Maria had gone out of a sense of duty, because her husband was in one of the most dangerous jobs in the Navy. Now she wished that she had paid better attention and learned more. She remembered some of it. Should they have a priest or minister there? No, that would be for a KIA notification. That would scare Nancy into an immediate blowout.

  Maria called Nancy that afternoon and suggested the night out. It had been over a week since they had done anything like this. Nancy had been delighted.

  “I even know what film I want to see. It’s that new one with Andrea Hightower in it. She is going to be a big star for years. Did you see her in Wicked Can’t Hide? Andrea was just fantastic. Now this new one is Where Virgins Dare Not Walk. It has good reviews. Dinner first, right, then the movie. We can get it at the Ken Theatre at nine forty-five. We can eat and run.”

  That night at six-thirty, after Maria stumbled through the carefully thought-out way she had worked out to tell Nancy about Will, Nancy blinked once and nodded.

  “Well, thank God he isn’t critical. I don’t know how I’d finish raising these kids without him.” Nancy didn’t cry. Not a tear not a wail and no hysterics or storming around the house.

  When Nancy didn’t cry, Milly was startled, and then deeply concerned. “This is the kind of injury that the military used to call a million-dollar wound,” Milly said. “It wouldn’t kill you, wouldn’t mess up the rest of your life, but it was serious enough to get you sent home.”

  “Master Chief MacKenzie didn’t want to tell me himself, did he? I’ll tease him about that. That rough, tough old coot is a big jelly roll inside.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Well, we have that out of the way, why don’t we go to dinner early? I’ve left food in the oven for the kids. They’ll do fine here until we get back.”

  They all splurged with lobster and steak and each one paid her own check as usual. The meal was served well; the background music was delightful; and the lobster was local, fresh caught, and cost a small fortune. Milly watched Nancy for any sign of cracking, any small fissure that might grow and build into a huge cave-in somewhere in the near future. She saw nothing. If anything, Nancy was better than usual. Now she was making plans for what they would do when Will came home.

  “How long do you think he’ll be in Balboa?” Nancy asked.

  “When Miguel was wounded more than a year ago, he was in the hospital for three weeks, but he had a nasty chest wound that they had trouble with. This wounded leg sounds far less serious. He could be out in a week at the most.”

  “Good,” Nancy said. “When he gets home we’re going to go see every one of the San Diego county parks. There are something like twenty of them. We’ll go picnic or hike or swim and whatever the park is about. I’ve always wanted to do that. This is the perfect time.”

  “We got up to see the Flower Fields at Carlsbad this year,” Milly said. “We try every summer, but this time we made it. The blooms are gone now, mostly renunculas. Fifty-five acres of them, so many brilliant colors sweeping up this half mile of hill. Amazing, truly amazing.”

  They chattered away over coffee and then decided on dessert. The dinner lasted so long they missed the movie they were going to see. Milly was pleased. The whole situation looked to be under control. Nancy was acting hurt and a little bewildered, but seemed genuinely pleased that Will would be coming home soon, maybe within the week. Yes, they had been lucky this time. This was exactly the kind of shock or trauma that might set Nancy off again.

  They left in their individual cars, so nobody would have to backtrack. Nancy’s three-year-old Chevy was in immaculate condition. Will kept it that way. She was his newborn and he babied her.

  “Take care, you guys,” Nancy said. “We’ll see you next week for our regular dinner. It’s at my place this time. Bye.”

  The three women got in their cars. Nancy drove off. Maria waited a minute until Nancy’s car was out of sight, then she went over to Milly’s car.

  “What do you think?” Milly asked.

  “Not sure, but she sounded good. No wild screaming or ranting and raving. This time she had just cause to get upset, but she didn’t. Seemed to me like she took it well.”

  “I hope so. I had the same impression. Maybe we got lucky this time.” They looked at each other.

  “Hey, I’ll call you if I hear anything else about the platoon.”

  “Yes,” Milly said. “We’ve got to stay in touch.” They both drove out of the restaurant parking lot.

  Down the street a half mile, Nancy slowed and pulled to the curb. It was a residential only a few blocks from her home. She put her head on the steering wheel. The tears came in a rush, then the pain and anger stormed out of her, and she screamed in fury and beat the steering wheel with her hands. Wetness streamed down her checks. She couldn’t just sit there. Nancy jumped out of the car and ran down the block fast. She sprinted and didn’t even feel the strain. She sprinted back to the car and began to wheeze and cough and then slammed her fist against the hood. It didn’t dent but her hand hurt so much she thought she might have broken it.

  “God damn it, why me?” Nancy bellowed into the night sky. “Why am I always the fucking punching bag?” The second scream was almost as loud as the first one and brought a flash of room lights on the second floor of a house across the street.

  Now the exhaustion hit her from the two long blocks of sprinting. She sagged against the car, then opened the door and slumped into the driver’s side.

  “Harry’s Place,” she said softly. Nobody knew her from Marilyn Monroe at Harry’s place.

  At first she stayed in a booth near the back, drinking quietly and quickly. On her sixth bourbon on the rocks, the waitress asked her if she was sure that she wanted it.

  “You’re alone, honey. You have somebody to come take you home? I can’t let you out of here if you’re driving.”

  Nancy looked up at her and brushed new tears away from her cheeks streaking the already smudged mascara. She stared back at the waitress and tipped up the bourbon and didn’t lower it until the glass was empty.

  “I’ll go call you a cab. The manager is worried about you.”

  As soon as the waitress left. Nancy pushed out of the seat, almost topped over, fell against the table and gained her balance. She looked at the front door, then headed for the side door. The manager ran in front of her.

  “Lady, I can’t let you go driving in your condition. Now just relax. I called a cab and I’m paying for it. Give me your keys and you can come get your car tomorrow afternoon. We open at two.”

  Nancy stopped, reached into her purse but what came out was her fist that she used to take a swing at the manager. He jumped back then stepped ahead inside and caught both her arms.

  “Get your hands off me you slob,” Nancy snarled.

  “Lady, I’d love to, but I could lose my license, understand? Nothing personal, it’s just business.”

  She looked away, and when he looked in that direction she brought up her knee and rammed it into his crotch as hard as she could.

  The manager bellowed in pain and swayed backward, dropping his hands from her arms and slumping to his knees. He held his crotch and keened in pain, then fell over on the floor, his hands protecting his genitals from any more damage.

  Nancy looked at him a minute, snorted, and went out the side door to her car. She saw a taxi flash into the parking lot and turn toward the front door.

  She hurried then, almost fell, bounced off a fender but kept her feet. She found her car, slid in, and locked the doors, then started the Chevy. She backed out of the slot slowly, with elaborate care, and cautiously turned toward the street.

  Nancy prided herself that she had never had to ask someone to drive her home or get a cab after a few drinks. Always made it home. Always.

  She shook her head and stared at the street. Which way? Oh, yeah, to the left. She hit the gas and spurted into the street a
nd barely missed a car coming at her in the right-hand lane. She blew her horn at the guy and laughed, then blinked to get a better view of the street. So damn dark out there. Lights were on, yeah, mine? Yeah. She thought the street was narrow and before she could correct, she sideswiped a car parked at the curb.

  She scowled and drove on, just a little crinkle fender, no big deal. Had to get home. She heard some horns honking at her but ignored them. Somebody behind her? She speeded up. Fifty miles an hour on a Coronado street? Oh, hell yes. Get home faster that way.

  The light had just turned red, and she was thirty feet from it. No way she could stop. Hell, nobody coming this time of night. She hit the accelerator to slip through fast before a cop saw her and then she caught just a flash of yellow to her right.

  Nancy wasn’t sure what happened next. She felt the impact as her front bumper slammed into the driver’s door of a yellow convertible. She jolted forward. Her head hit the steering wheel, and then the wheel smashed into her breasts. After that everything whirled and spun and she saw the convertible tip over and her Chevy ride up onto the wheels and undercarriage of the other car. A moment later she passed out.

  South China Sea

  John C. Stennis, CVN 74

  Lieutenant Commander Blake Murdock and Father O’Connor went to see Senior Chief Boatswain’s Mate Willard Dobler in the hospital section of the huge carrier.

  Dobler looked up, saw Murdock and grinned, then frowned when he saw the crosses on the other officer’s collar.

  “I know I’ve missed mass for a few years, Father, but you didn’t have to come all the way out here—” He stopped. Neither of them was going to laugh. His grin turned to a frown tinged with the redness of fear. “What is it? My family?”

  The priest looked at Murdock who had asked to lead the team.

  “Yes, Will. Nancy was in a car crash. She got banged up a little bit but only spent one night in the hospital.”

  “Thank God. Were the kids with her?”

  “No, she was alone. Your Chevy is pretty well totaled.”