by M. L. Maki
The light cruiser HMS Penelope stops firing. The Penelope blinkers, “Most sorry, Livermore. Most sorry.”
Huber says, “Reply, “No problem. Onslaught and Savannah are to our stern’.”
CHAPTER 20
SCHARNHORST
Kapitän zur See Friedrich Hüffmeier watches the mangled bow of his ship settle into the sea. Fires rage throughout his ship. He picks up the microphone, “Abandon ship. Abandon ship. All hands to abandon ship stations.”
The OOD approaches and Hüffmeier waves him off. In the foggy gloom, he sees flickering flames from other ships on fire. The stern of a cruiser rises up and, as he watches, it disappears.
The lieutenant approaches, “Sir. Come.”
“You have done well, Herrman. Very well.”
“Sir, there is no shame in leaving.”
“I am done.”
“No, sir. You must make certain the British treat us fair. Only our Kapitän can do so.”
“Then let us sweep the vessel for stragglers.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
Guthrie, “Conn, Sonar. Sierra 1 is in trouble.”
Backes walks in, “What are you hearing?”
“I think they’re on fire. They’re doing an emergency blow. The two diesels have stopped.”
Morrison joins them and Guthrie brings him up to speed.
Morrison, “Okay, their experiment failed. They’ll keep trying until they get it right. Hitler didn’t care how many people he killed. Thank you, Guthrie. We’ve gotten all we can from this.”
USS LIVERMORE
The fog finally lifts. The few surviving cargo ships and German destroyers flee east. The Scharnhorst is awash to the bridge. Its crew are manning what boats have survived. The heavy cruiser, HMS Suffolk, burns bow to stern. The American heavy cruiser, Tuscaloosa, is lost. The light cruiser, HMS Glasgow, is burning and settling by the stern. A damaged British destroyer renders aid to the Glasgow. The light cruiser, HMS Penelope, lists thirty degrees to port.
The USS Savannah sends a blinker signal, “Livermore, provide air defense. We will render aid.”
Huber, “Acknowledged.”
On the radio, “Livermore, Arthur 1. I am south and west of the group. Good kills. You engaged ME-262’s and hit two. Come south and east to cover your group. We will be sweeping south.”
“Roger, Arthur 1.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
0516, 02 October, 1942 (0416 GMT)
John Morrison does bench presses on the weight machine. Greg Backes does curls at another station.
“Greg, what do you want to do after the war?”
“Now, I don’t know. I’m wanting to ride the bull as long as the Navy doesn’t throw me. How about you?”
“Yeah, pretty much the same. I’m hoping the Navy can be color blind enough to give me a star.”
“Do you know if Liz is on board with you chasing a star?”
“Yeah, she is. How about your lady?”
“We’ve talked about it. If we can figure out how to handle the estate, she’s on board with following me where ever I go. It actually excites her.”
“If her dad doesn’t survive captivity, who gets the estate?”
“Catherine. It goes to the closest descendant regardless of sex. It is England that does salic primogeniture for noble families. Not the royal family, though, which is weird.”
“I admit to not understanding the half of it. If she inherits, is she required to live there?”
“No, but she’s required to maintain ownership. It isn’t a cheap place to take care of. We’ll figure it out.”
A petty officer, “Sir, we are coming up to check in.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in a bit. Greg, I wish you the very best at figuring it out.” They wipe down the gear, and head forward. John, “You know, if you help her with investing, you guys might make a ton and assure the future of the place.”
“What do you mean?”
“Is IBM a good bet?”
“Oh. Sure, it is.”
“What about General Electric?”
“Okay, I see your point.”
“Will she have to sit on the House of Lords when she inherits?”
“No. Scottish Barons don’t.”
CONFERENCE ROOM, GENERAL MOTORS FACTORY, DETROIT, MICHIGAN
2219, 1 October, 1942 (0419, 2 October, GMT)
Lieutenant JG James Maki, “Please do not lecture me about what cannot be done. We have to build a tank and we have to get it correct the first go.”
Alfred P. Sloan, the CEO of General Motors says, “Lieutenant Maki, why don’t you leave the building of vehicles to those of us who have the skills. Please stay quiet and let the professionals work.”
Maki stands, “Sir, do you understand who Admiral Klindt is?”
“I am aware he is from the future. Anything else is irrelevant.”
“Sir. He assigned me here. He’s the director of the war time production board. He holds EVERY contract. If you cannot work this project, as I direct, I will recommend we offer the contract elsewhere.” He stares at Sloan.
Sloan stands, putting his hands on the table, “Sit down!”
Maki, “Fuck you, sir. I don’t work for you. Your company is working for me. I know your history. I know damn near every car model you make from now until 1990. I also know about Opel in Germany. Whose fucking side are you on?”
Sloan, “How dare you!”
Maki, “Sit the fuck down and shut your fucking trap.”
Sloan sits, “The Admiral will hear of this.”
Maki, “You have a phone. Shall I dial for you?”
Sloan dials the phone, “Admiral Klindt, please.” He waits. “Admiral Klindt. I must insist you send another officer. Your lieutenant is running rough shod over our entire operation. He seems to think he is in charge.”
In the silence of the room, they all hear Admiral Klindt’s response, “He is. I for one have considered General Motors to be entirely too large. If you refuse to work with him, I will chop your company into pieces and put you in charge of the hubcap division. We don’t have the time for your nonsense. Maki knows what I want, so build it.” Klindt ends the call.
Sloan’s eyes rotate to Maki.
Maki takes a breath, “I grew up liking GM products. The first car I ever drove was a Chevy. I want to work with you. I know we can build what the Army and Marine corps needs. I am familiar with what the Army chose for a tank forty years from now. That is the tank we need to build, or one close to it. This tank will be simple to operate, simple to repair, simple to construct, and rugged as hell. We’re going to build the best fucking tank in the world, if you can get past my low rank, and stop with the ritual dick beating.”
Sloan, “Go over your list of requirements. We will work with you.”
“Thank you.” Maki walks up to a chalk board.
USS SAN FRANCISCO
0542, 2 October, 1942 (0442, GMT)
Morrison walks into Control, “What do you have?”
Miller, “We’re just coming up to periscope depth.”
He studies chart table, “No traffic. Good. Proceed.”
Miller, “Up scope.” He spins it. “No contacts.”
FC1 Anthony Walters, “No radar detected.”
ETCS Barton, “We have traffic, sir.”
TO: YANKEE BRAVO
FRM: TFYAN
REG: Hail Mary
At 1115 GMT, 4 October, 1942, be at coordinates 55D 53M 20S north 18D 11M 35S east to receive SF. Be aware, Germany has landed in corps strength at New Castle on the Tyne and are attacking south. Your support vessels have been moved to Belfast. We are prepared to evacuate YB Home Port area if necessary. God Speed.
Hunt
Morrison, “Make our depth 300. New course 055. Ahead two thirds.” He picks up the 1MC, “I need your attention San Francisco. As we have been saying, the events of our history are no determination of what will happen now. The Germans have landed several divisions of army troops at New Castle on
the Tyne. New Castle is about one hundred and fifty miles south and east of Holy Loch. Commodore Hunt says the Germans are attacking south toward London, and not north into Scotland. She also informed us that contingency plans are being prepared to evacuate Holy Loch if necessary. We are being ordered east to pick up a special forces team in the middle of the Baltic. Trust that what we are doing is critical to the success of the war. I recognize the burden this knowledge puts on us all. We are all worried. We need to focus on the mission in front of us and trust the combined armies stationed in Britain to eject the Germans. That, and trust Commodore Hunt to seriously kick some ass. That is all.” He replaces the microphone and stands, staring at the deck.
Backes, “John?”
“Greg, we need to get to the drop zone way in advance to make certain there are no ships in sight of the drop area.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I need to talk to the SEALs.” He walks down to torpedo. “Chief Kennedy, can you and your boys give us a minute?”
“Yes, sir.”
Morrison sits in a chair, “Okay, guys, we have a team of SEALs who are going to skydive down to us. This is a bit out of my wheelhouse. What do we need to do to recover them?”
HMC Larry Shockley says, “They absolutely cannot dive after a HALO jump. They would bend.”
Morrison, “So we need to surface. That brings with it additional hazards. We must sterilize the drop zone before surfacing. Most of the shipping up there is cargo. There will be, likely, Swedish and Russian vessels up there, as well as German. If I torpedo a half dozen ships, someone will get a radio call, so we need a plan.”
Fronczak, “Nothing for it, sir. The thing is, if my team boards any target and sinks them, we may gain some intel from the death, and we could prevent a radio report.”
“Okay. Why do you suppose they are dropping in the middle of the day?”
Fronczak, “No idea.”
BM2 Lawrence “BJ” Carbone, “Maybe it’s the only time they can.”
BMC Paul “Grunt” Bruce, “What do you mean?”
BJ, “Well, we’re north of Germany. It’s a long way away from England with no friends around. The drop must be tied in with something else, like a trip to Russia.”
Fronczak, “But Russia has pulled out of the war.”
Morrison, “Which would be a reason for the German’s to leave a flight to Russia alone. Okay, it’s a start. We’ll scope out the area. If we find any civilian vessel in the area, we will send you up. Look, either we need to kill everyone on the vessel or bring them aboard and into internment. I can’t ask you to kill an innocent. If you encounter women or children, you will bring them aboard. We aren’t monsters.”
Grunt, “If it’s a warship, you’ll torpedo it?”
“Of course. No sense risking you guys against a warship.”
“Okay.”
TOWER, STEWART HOME
0834, 2 October, 1942
Laureen climbs to the top floor of the completed tower, Da, are you Okay?”
“Aye, dear.” He is sitting in a chair with a hunting rifle across his lap, watching the rain sheet down the windows. “How are ye?”
“The ships are gone. You said as long as they were here, he would be back.”
“Aye, I said that. They moved the ships to keep them clear of the Germans, also, so that we would not be a focus of attack. He’ll be back.” A constable car pulls up the drive. “Shall we see what the boabs want?”
They walk down and Jean Luc says, “Papa, who is it?”
Sheamus, “Let’s see.”
Constable Ann Lochlin knocks on the door.
Laureen, “Hello. Please, come in.”
Ann, “Mr. Stewart. Mrs. Brown. How are you?”
Sheamus, “We’re fair. Fancy a cuppa?”
Ann, “Thank you, please.”
Jean Luc says, “I saw you at the boat.”
Ann, “Yes, you did.”
They go into the warm kitchen and Laureen serves tea.
Jean Luc, “Who was the bloke?”
Ann, “His name is Lieutenant Giblin, my boyfriend.”
Jean Luc, “Oh. Okay.”
Sheamus, “How might we help you, Constable?”
She looks at Laureen, “You’re married to Ensign Brown, correct?”
“I am.”
“We are organizing the families and friends of the three vessels for possible evacuation.”
Sheamus, “Where would we go?”
Ann, “It’s not yet a firm plan. It would depend on the hazards. Options under consideration are northern Scotland, North Ireland, and America. Another thing to know. It will be a voluntary evacuation.”
Laureen, “Is this only because of Michael?”
Ann, “We must consider what will happen to families if the Germans get here. The other concern is the sailors.”
Laureen, “I’m somewhat surprised that the American government would care about us.”
Ann, “Please understand, these sailors lost their entire families about ten months ago. Commodore Hunt is adamant that they will not lose their new families. We are, right now, evacuating all the girlfriends, boyfriends, and close families from around RAF Alconbury. We expect Alconbury to fall.”
Laureen, “What about here. Will the Germans attack here?”
“They’ve stopped south of Lockerbie. It is unlikely they will advance further. Their focus is London. This is a precaution only.”
Sheamus, “Will London stand?”
Ann, “Aye. I think it will. Can you give me more names of people associated with our sailors?”
Sheamus, “Aye. I have a few. I saw them at the departure. Have ye spoken to Lady Glenlean?”
“No, not yet.”
CHAPTER 21
USS SAN FRANCISCO, NEAR THE JUMP COORDINATES
0943, 4 October, 1942 (0843 GMT)
“Conn, Sonar. New contact. Designate, Tango 64. Large ship. One screw.”
Miller, “Very well.”
Morrison, “Okay, we have one contact in our drop zone. Get us behind them, and on their port side.”
“Yes, sir.”
He picks up the IMC, “Muster the away team at the transporter room.”
Grinning, Morrison walks aft to the trunk under the SEAL shelter. In a few moments, the SEALs show up in their wet suits, “Fronczak, are you guys ready?”
Fronczak, “Yes, sir.”
“Okay. Gather around. Lord, we are sending these warriors out to face a threat only you understand. Please guide their hands. Move swiftly their feet and bring them safely back to us. Amen.” He steps back, “Go set up. We will growl you when we’re ready, and guys, none of you are wearing red shirts, so come back safe.”
“Yes, sir.”
Morrison walks into control and looks at the chart table. In a few minutes, he growls the SEAL’s and sends them on their way.
SEAL TEAM APPROACHING MV PETRE PETROV
1113, 4 October, 1942 (1013 GMT).
The SEALs inflate their boat, roll in, and fire the motor up. In a few minutes, they are running along the rear port quarter. They see that the superstructure is in the center of the cargo ship. Grunt casts a rope over the rail and they begin climbing. Grunt rolls over the rail with his MP-5. Seeing no one, he moves forward. When they are all on board, they haul the boat up and secure it.
Grunt, Munchkin, and Dude work their way up the starboard side, as Fang and BJ work up the port. They meet on the main deck aft of the bridge structure. Fronczak signals his intentions, and they enter. Munchkin and Dude head down to the engine room. Grunt goes up to the starboard side of the bridge, opens the hatch, and rolls in a flash bang. He closes the hatch. The grenade goes off, and Fronczak and BJ rush in from the opposite side.
Grunt hears gunfire, then, “Bridge secure.”
He keys his throat mic, “Roger, starting the door to door next deck down.”
Fronczak on the radio, “Some of the crew are armed.”
Grunt enters the deck below the bridg
e and starts throwing open doors. In the third room, the occupant fires at him and misses, “Thpp, clack, clack. Thpp, clack, clack.” The man, minus part of his skull, falls to the deck. Grunt keys his throat mic, “Shots fired. Clear.”
He hears shots from below. Fronczak on the radio, “It’s gone south. Execute with extreme prejudice.”
Grunt shoots two more crew members. In eight minutes, he goes back through the rooms looking for intel. “It’s Russian. Great.”
Fronczak, “Ten minutes. BJ, time to wire this.”
Munchkin, “We can flood the cargo holds from the engine room. They have a dewatering system we can exploit.”
BJ, “On it, Fang.”
Grunt rounds a corner and sees Dude.
Dude, “I swept everything below this.”
“Okay, I finished this floor. We go up.”
On the bridge, Fronczak is taking pictures, “I’ve gone through this level.”
They hear BJ, “Six minutes. Time to go.”
Fronczak, “It’s a Russian ship delivering titanium to Warnemunde. They are selling titanium to Germany.”
Grunt, “I’ll get a picture, and if possible, a sample.”
“Go.”
Grunt runs down and aft. The cargo hatches are huge. He figures them out and uses a bar to remove the tie bolts. They are way too heavy to lift. He looks up at the crane.
He can hear his team running aft. Then hears muffled explosions in the engine room. A poof of air lifts the hatch and he pushes it ajar. Grunt takes a picture of the heap of grey stones below. They are too far down to get a sample. He notices a rock in the mechanism and puts it in his pocket.
The ship is already settling to the stern as Grunt climbs down and joins the team in the rubber boat. They pull away and stand-off, watching the ship roll over and sink, stern first.
The San Francisco surfaces nearby. They run their boat over. As they come alongside, Morrison, on the bridge, says, “Can you stand by to pick up our guests?”
Fronczak, “Will do. Grunt, you got it. Drop us off.”
“Hooah.” He noses the rubber boat to the sub and the other four scramble onto the submarine. Fifteen minutes later, they see nine men parachute in and hit the water. Grunt recognizes Triage.
