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To Hunt and Protect

Page 5

by M L Maki


  Morrison picks up a phone, “Captain, new contact to the southwest. We are maneuvering.” The sub banks in the turn. Commander Cumberland walks in straight to the table.

  “Conn, Sonar. Sierra 5 is diving. Confirmed submarine.”

  Cumberland pushes the button, “Very well. How far are they from the fleet?”

  “Best guess, fifty miles.”

  “Too fucking close.” Cumberland storms into sonar, “What the fuck were you doing, Brown? How could you miss a fucking World War II diesel, fucking electric submarine? Can’t you fucking hear?”

  “Sir, we were sprinting. We ran right by it.”

  Cumberland stomps into control, “Call the tracking party. Load and make ready a torpedo in tube 3.” He hovers over the tracking table that marks their position and the bearing lines to their target.

  “Conn, Sonar. The Long Beach has accelerated to flank speed. Their course is toward Sierra 5.”

  Cumberland pushed the button, “You better not have cost me a kill.”

  The tracking party arrives, marking down the new bearings of the target as they are announced from sonar. Soon they have a range and course for the target. Wankowski says, “Range is 42 miles. Their course is 210.”

  They hear, “Tube 3 loaded with a Mark-48. Fish is spun up.”

  Cumberland, “Ahead flank, power limiting.”

  “Conn, Sonar. We are cavitating.”

  Morrison on the box, “Understood.”

  Cumberland under his breath, “Ain’t no one on this ocean that can hear us.”

  USS FIFE DD-991, 20 MILES NORTH OF CARL VINSON

  Commander James Lamoure says, “XO, take us to General Quarters. If the Long Beach gets in trouble, we’ll need to sort it out.”

  LCDR Margaret Lafferty, the XO, says, “Aye, sir.”

  “Combat, Sonar. The San Francisco just kicked it in the ass, sir.”

  Lamoure pushes the button, “Sonar, give me a bearing.”

  “Yes, sir. Bearing is 038. Bearing is constant.”

  “Understood.” Lamoure turns to Lafferty, “The submarine Long Beach is playing with got by the Frisco. Cumberland will be pissed.”

  “Do you know him, sir?”

  He nods, “We were in ROTC at the same time. I did a number of midshipman events with him. As I recall, he attended UCLA.”

  “What about you, sir?

  “University of Oregon.”

  “The Beavers?”

  He smiles, “The Ducks. I’m almost offended. I guess I can’t expect much more from a ring knocker.”

  Lafferty looks down at the Annapolis ring on her right hand and smiles. “Yes, sir.

  USS SAN FRANCISCO

  Cumberland, “Ahead 1/3.” The order is relayed to maneuvering where the throttleman slowly shuts down the throttle. As the screw stops thrashing the ocean at speed, the flow resistance in the water causes the ship to slow. At normal throttling rates, the throttleman shuts the throttle completely for a little while as they coast down. The slower screw is no longer creating and collapsing steam bubbles along its edge: what is called cavitation. The noise made by water flowing along the hull diminishes.

  Brown, “Conn, Sonar. Sierra 5 and Long Beach are both at 186.”

  Cumberland invades sonar, “Do you hear torpedoes in the water?”

  “No, sir. I hear active sonar from the Long Beach and also from dipping sonar. There is a helicopter out there. Two, no three, sono-buoys. An S-3 is up there, too.”

  “What a coupe if I can steal a kill from all of those. Sort them out.” He turns and struts into control, “Give me a firing solution on Sierra 5.”

  Sonar calls bearings to the tracking party and they plot the subs position on the chart. As all the vessels move, the bearings change. They use trigonometry to calculate range based on these changes. Wankowski, “Captain, Long Beach and Sierra 5 are a single datum. They are in close proximity and maneuvering around each other.”

  Cumberland spits out, “How far away?”

  “About ten miles.”

  “Conn, Sonar. “Aspect change. Long Beach is maneuvering around Sierra 5.”

  Cumberland pushes the button, “How far apart are they?”

  “Close, sir. Less than a mile.”

  Cumberland, “Fuck. Fucking hell.”

  “Conn, Sonar. Sierra 5 is backing. Long Beach is pacing it on their port side.”

  Cumberland, “Understood.” He releases the button, “They’re in easy range. Why don’t they fire?”

  “Conn, Sonar. Gertrude, sir.”

  Cumberland rushes into sonar and hears, “Vessel authentication bravo, bravo, delta, one.”

  Cumberland, “What?”

  They hear, “USS Dolphin, we are new in theater and haven’t received the codes yet. I’m willing to offer ice cream and coffee as a bribe, though.”

  Cumberland, “What the fuck is he doing?”

  Brown, “Bribing an American sub so it will surface.” On the box Brown says, “Conn, Sonar. Sierra 5 is friendly. She’s American.”

  Cumberland, “How do you know?”

  They hear on the Gertrude, “What vessel?”

  Brown, “Could a Japanese sailor speak English that well, sir?”

  “We are the USS Long Beach CGN9. By the number on your conning tower you are the Dolphin, a V class boat. Oh, another thing, if it makes you feel better, you’re welcome to take a pot shot at us, if you must. Your torpedoes won’t work.”

  Cumberland, “The Long Beach is a fucking cowboy. He has no idea how this mother fucker might react.” He storms back into control.”

  “Conn, Sonar. Sierra 5 is flooding tubes and blowing ballast.”

  Cumberland studies the chart. Backes acknowledges sonar, then makes eye contact with Morrison.

  Morrison shakes his head, “There is nothing we can do, but wait.”

  “Conn, Sonar. The Long Beach just floored it.”

  Morrison, “Very well.”

  “Conn, Sonar. Sierra 5 is surfaced. They are shutting torpedo doors.”

  Morrison, “Very well.” He takes a massive clearing breath.

  Cumberland, “Take us back on station. Carry on.” He walks out of control.

  Morrison, “Left standard rudder. Make our course 035. Ahead standard.”

  Backes, “He seems disappointed.”

  “Greg, we almost killed an American sub. That sub almost killed the Long Beach. We need to be better at telling friend from foe.”

  Quietly, Backes asks, “Does it matter to him?”

  “It has to.” Morrison walks into sonar, “Brown, how are you doing?”

  “Okay, sir. It was a ballsy thing the Long Beach did.”

  “How did you read it?”

  “Sir, she knew the sub, US or Japanese, could only fire in a narrow arc ahead or behind. He approached on the beam and kept the beam on the sub. The Long Beach is a big, loud, old boat, but she got it done.”

  “What can you tell me about the sub?”

  “Diesel electric, twin screws. She has four-bladed screws. The Japanese had three. If that is common practice in the two navies, we can use it to identify nationality. I got an audio track for training.”

  “Thank you.”

  CHAPTER 4

  USS SAN FRANCISCO

  1104, 27 December, 1941

  MM3 Karl Gustaf knocks on the XO’s door. Morrison says, “Enter.” The XO’s room is really small. Gustaf enters and shuts the door behind him. He takes a deep breath and says, “Sir. I know how we went back in time.”

  “Okay.” Morrison sets down his pen and turns from his desk. The MM3 is rocking from foot to foot, his shoulders hunched, and there’s a twitch in his left cheek. “Is it something you did?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then relax. Want a soda?”

  “Um, sure.”

  Morrison pulls out two bottles from the small fridge he brought aboard, “Not that new crap. I have the original swill.” He hands one to Gustaf and opens his, “Go ahead.”
<
br />   “Have you heard a book called the ‘Talon Sword’?”

  “Yes. Oh, it was about a time machine. Gustaf, that was fiction.”

  The young nuke presents the book open to the relevant scene, “December 19, 1990 to December 19, 1941. That’s what happened to us.”

  Morrison reads the passage, “That’s way too close to be a guess. I’ve no doubt you’ve an explanation. Please continue.”

  “My roommate at prototype was nuts about this book. Nuts as only a nuke can be nuts.”

  “Yes. Super nerds, continue.”

  “The time machine is located in the Australian outback, just like in the book. See, the author was a Lit major and wouldn’t know anything about machines. But in the book, his descriptions were exacting. He got the information from a paper in the Bodleian Library at Oxford. The British Ministry of Defense really built the machine there.”

  “On December 19, 1941, no time travel event occurred.”

  “No, sir, not in our time line. The thing is, that machine discharged terawatts of energy and nothing happened. No melting. No damage. Where did it go? According to my roommate, the buildings were rusted and abandoned in 1990. He knew a guy who had seen them.”

  “No time travel occurred?”

  “No, sir. Not until time marched forward to the right point and the antenna focused the energy around it, where ever it was, and drew that place back in time. My friend built one of the antennas and he is stationed on the Carl Vinson, sir.”

  “Damn. Right. It’s been years since I read this book. How do we get back?”

  “We can’t, sir. It was a one-way trip.”

  “Are you sure.”

  “It’s the physics of it, sir. Doctor Heinlein used frequency and voltage to choose the time it drew from. The process cannot be reversed without using negative energy.”

  Morrison finishes, “And negative energy is hypothetical. What happened to everything in the future? Did they all just die?”

  “No, sir. They’re trucking along with their lives in their own time line. Except, by now, the Navy is desperately searching for a missing carrier group.”

  “Wouldn’t doppelganger us keep trucking along?”

  “Sir, that would violate the Conservation of Energy. Even Einstein cannot break the laws of physics.”

  “Don’t go Scotty on me. That’s Miller’s position.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Can I borrow the book?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Who knows about this?”

  “You, me, and my LPO, Gary Mallory.”

  “Send him to me and keep your yap shut on this.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A few minutes later, Gary Mallory knocks and enters, “Yes, sir?”

  Morrison, “Mallory, Gustaf came to you about the ‘Talon Sword’ thing, right?”

  “Oh, fuck, sir. I told him to shut his mouth about it.”

  “Have you told anyone?”

  “No, sir. If it’s true, it’s the kind of information that could get you lynched.”

  “Okay, I agree. I want you to keep quiet about this while I figure out what to do about it.”

  “Um, sir. I did mention the book to Wankowski and Hines. I didn’t say anything about Gustaf’s friend.”

  “Okay. Keep quiet about it.”

  “Yes, sir. I heard you got married right before we left.”

  “I did.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “Me too. I know you lost your boys. God, this sucks.”

  “The kids are the worst. They will never exist.”

  “Yeah, I see that.”

  “Sir, what are you going to do about your wife?”

  “There is nothing I can do.”

  “We could memorialize her and all the people we lost.”

  Morrison’s eyes widen, “Yes, we could and we should.”

  Mallory smiles, “I’m not as stupid as they all think.”

  “I’ve never thought you were stupid, Gary. Have you thought about what you are going to do after the war?”

  “No, sir.”

  “What were your retirement plans.”

  “Get a job close to my boys.”

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “I’m going to take a lesson from Willie Nelson in the ‘Electric Horseman’. ‘I’m gonna get me a bottle of tequila and find me one of them Keno girls that can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch and just kinda kick back’.”

  Morrison laughs, “So, that is what your persona wants. What does Mallory the person want?”

  “My family back.”

  “I’ll set up the memorial.”

  “Will the skipper allow it?”

  “He’s not a monster.”

  “Really?”

  Remember, say nothing about the book.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Mallory leaves and Morrison slumps in his chair, “This is fucking hard.”

  He pulls out a note pad:

  Captain Klindt…

  USS CARL VINSON

  0630, 4 January, 1942

  Admiral Ren, Captain Johnson, CO of the Carl Vinson, Captain Van Zandt and Captain Klindt sit with Admiral Nimitz and his staff; Captain John Duncan, his chief of staff, Captain Lewis Burbank, his logistics officer, and Commander Philip Morton, his intelligence officer. Nimitz holds up a paper, “Tell me about this submarine, the San Francisco.”

  Ren, “She’s a 688-class nuclear powered submarine. Because of the nuclear power plant, she only needs to surface for food, maintenance, and crew rest. They do, however, require very specific and demanding maintenance.”

  Nimitz, “I see. The same as for this ship. How long is its core life and can it be refueled?”

  “The core can be refueled, but in the end, the dive cycles on the hull are the more restrictive. We should get thirty or forty more years from her.”

  “Who commands her.”

  Klindt, “His name is Commander George Cumberland.”

  “Your subs have commanders? Ours use lieutenants.”

  “Yes, sir. We want a senior and responsible officer in charge of a nuclear power plant. The XO is a lieutenant commander, as are some of the department heads.”

  “What are their general capabilities and missions?

  “They are being used now to defend the battlegroup from other submarines. They can perform a number of other missions, including intelligence gathering, surface vessel or submarine attack, tracking Soviet boomers, and other things.”

  Nimitz, “What is a ‘boomer’?”

  Ren, “A special purpose missile submarine.” He explains the design capabilities.

  Nimitz, “Do any of you know this Commander?”

  Ren, “I have met him, but I don’t know him well.”

  Klindt, “Sir, I know his XO well. We served together about a decade ago. Commander Cumberland is new in command and has made some errors. He has, however, successfully engaged two submarines. One was a Russian nuke boat.”

  “He sank a Russian submarine?”

  “Yes, sir. It came back in time with the rest of us. When he engaged it, the Russian was maneuvering aggressively against the Vinson.”

  “We want to keep that secret.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What were his mistakes.”

  Klindt, “It’s how he treats his crew. Commander Morrison says he has a poor manner with his subordinates. To quote, ‘he’s an asshole, but a competent asshole.”

  Duncan, “What prompted this?”

  Ren, “Cumberland sent a message asking when he should send his minority crewmembers, including his XO, for internment, and get them replaced by white men. We cannot function without these people, as I discussed.”

  Klindt, “For clarification, I worded my request in such a way as to force Morrison to speak clearly. As it was, he was reluctant to speak ill of his commander.”

 

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