Team nine was still top and was now unreachable by any of the other nineteen teams.
On Friday, they noticed a large ship on the horizon. They found out later that it was the HMS Ark Royal. Jason watched it with binoculars.
“That’s your father’s ship, isn’t it, Jase?” Todd asked.
“I haven’t been this close to my dad in eight months.”
“I don’t know how you do it. You must really miss him.”
“I don’t really know anything different.”
***
The following morning, the cadet teams were given inflatable, motorized rafts. The objective was to catch fish if possible and to experience a hot day at sea, fending for their lives. They had to use their water bottles sparingly. Fuel was rationed to a minimum, and they were ordered to keep within a mile of the Stoke. Jakarta was two miles to the north. Getting within a mile of the shoreline was strictly off limits.
The fishing was slow. They had no rods, just lines, hooks, and weights. Bait was bread. However, Rob kept some bacon from breakfast. A small breeze slowly pushed the boats north. Every hour or so, they had to start up the tiny motor and move closer to the Stoke and farther away from Jakarta.
“We better move back a bit. We are getting too far away,” Jeff told John.
“Wait, I have a bite,” Rob shouted. The line in his hand was tugging back and forth. He and Jim pulled the line in as fast as they could. They could see the fish in the crystal-clear water just below the inflatable.
“We got one!” Jim screamed. Together, they pulled a large four-pound bass out of the sea.
“Jesus, look at the spikes in its dorsal fin. Watch your hands,” John shouted.
The large fish bounced around on the deck of the inflatable, gasping for air.
“Have we got to eat that?” Todd asked, grimacing.
“It’s a bass. They are really nice. You’ll like it,” Rob said.
They could hear the sound of some of the other cadets cheering in the distance. They looked up and could see a high-speed inflatable coming in their direction, carrying four people. One was waving back at the cadets.
“Who’s that?” Jim asked.
“I don’t know, but look how far we have drifted. Come on, we better start the motor and get back with the rest,” John said.
“It’s the marines. They must have come from the Ark Royal. Look, they are carrying guns,” Rob said as it came closer.
They sat and watched as the inflatable bounced across the top of the water at high speed. Todd started waving at them and then Jason followed suit. One of the marines gave a thumbs-up as their inflatable came level.
“It’s going to Jakarta,” Jeff said. They watched it pass them. The wake made their little inflatable rock from side to side. It was still drifting closer to the shore.
“Look. Choppers,” Jeff said.
Three gray-colored helicopters flew low toward them and then they dove. Suddenly, the air was filled with rounds of exploding gunfire. The marines jumped into the sea and dived under the water. The choppers passed over the stunned team nine’s inflatable toward the other cadets.
“Is this a training exercise?” Todd gasped.
In a horrifying answer, one of the helicopters opened fire on one of the inflatables carrying cadets. Screams filled the air. The second and third helicopters joined the attack. Some cadets scrambled into the water. Some froze and stared. John pulled the motor cord and started the engine, steering the inflatable back to the Stoke. His hands shook violently.
“No,” Jason said as calmly as he could muster. “We will be going straight into the helicopters.” His eyes darted, trying to make sense of the chaos around him. “Look! The marines are in the water. Their inflatable is sinking.”
“We can’t help them, Jase. Look at the others. We should help them,” John replied, pointing at a group of screaming cadets.
Even from far away, Jason could see they’d been hit. He grabbed the motor handle from John’s hand and turned the small raft back toward the marines. The helicopters opened fire over and over again on the tiny boats. Some of the cadets tried to help others. Some were clearly floating lifeless on the surface. As Jason approached the marines, he noticed one was facedown.
“Kids, you gotta get out of here!” a marine treading the red-tinted water shouted.
None answered. They were in a state of shock. Jason stopped the tiny vessel.
“Come on, boys, just keep your heads down and try to get back to the Stoke. We can swim from here.”
“Sir, they can’t go back into that,” another marine said. “Move over, boys. We are coming in.”
The three large dripping soldiers climbed into team nine’s inflatable, nearly sinking it. It would not take much more to submerge the tiny vessel. It was clearly overloaded. “Take it to the shore. We can’t take Kevin,” the marine told Jason.
“The Ark will launch choppers and fighter jets,” the first marine announced. He stood over six feet and had a huge chest and biceps. His wet muscular arms shone in the sunlight as he checked his rifle. “They will soon eliminate the choppers and rescue your friends. God, this raft is bloody slow. I’m Major Wilson. This is Peter Tucker and Ryan Lentz. That, in the water, was Kevin Walker. Those choppers are Jakarta rebels funded by the Chinese government.”
“Sir, the choppers,” Jason said. Two of the helicopters were coming in their direction.
“Keep going,” Wilson told Jason while he took aim with his automatic rifle.
As the first helicopter came closer, the marines opened fire. The deafening sound of the high-powered weapons and smell of gunpowder made Jason wince, but he focused on the engine. Todd closed his eyes and grabbed Jason’s arm for comfort. The helicopter returned fire. A long stream of bullets rushed across the surface of the sea toward the inflatable. No signal was given by anyone, but they all jumped at the same time. Jason pulled Todd with him into the water.
“Dive!” Major Wilson shouted.
They dived down deep under the surface. Jason went down as far as he could. He waited and looked up through the clear but darkening waters. Bullets still pounded. He could not understand why the water was getting so murky at first. As he slowly started to surface, he then realized the reason. It was colored with blood. He came up for a breath of desperately needed air.
Another round of automatic fire splashed toward them from the helicopters. Again, Jason dove deep. His lungs were screaming for oxygen. His high-paced heartbeat burned his body’s limited oxygen supply. Bullets still pounded the surface above. It was a never-ending nightmare. He kept himself under the water as long as he could. His body instinctively took over. He had to surface—and fast.
As Jason gasped for air, he looked for his teammates. The helicopters roared just above him, but at least the shooting had stopped. To his relief, they started to fly back toward the island. He found a body facedown in the water. He turned it over and saw that it was Jim. His head had a large black hole burned into it. It was the first dead body Jason had ever encountered up close. It was the first time someone he’d known had been killed.
“Jason!” Todd coughed and splashed behind him.
He had swallowed a lot of water but was still alive and unhurt. They swam to each other and glanced around.
“Boys, you hurt?” Major Wilson asked.
“We are fine, sir, but, Jim…he’s dead,” Jason gasped.
“So is this one,” Major Wilson said, turning Rob over onto his back. “Okay, boys, can you all stay afloat for a while? It won’t be long, and you will be rescued.”
“Jason, Todd, over here!” John shouted, clutching Jeff, who was pale and moaning. The water around them was purplish. “Major, Jeff has been hit in the shoulder. Jason, how is Todd?”
“He’s swallowed a lot of water, but we will be okay—”
Jeff gave out a terrifying scream. His arms waved and pounded the surface as he fought to keep his head above water. It then became obvious what the problem was. A larg
e gray dorsal fin from a great white shark had broken the water’s surface. Jeff disappeared under the deep red water, and another dorsal fin appeared. Jason pulled Todd and started swimming to the shore. He wasn’t going to wait in the water and get taken like Jeff. Todd was still having trouble breathing. He was unable to swim in his condition. Jason swam on his back with Todd’s head on his chest. Major Wilson took out his revolver and shot at the shark.
“Sir, we’ve got to get out of here,” Ryan shouted.
“Right. Those two boys have the right idea. Let’s go,” the major ordered. It was at least half a mile away, but remaining would mean certain death.
***
Aircraft carrier HMS Ark Royal’s Captain Christopher Stephens was on the ship’s bridge with Lieutenant Commander Raymond Steed and three other officers when the terrifying radio message crackled through.
“This is the HMS Stoke. Captain William Giles. I request immediate assistance. We are under fire. Repeat. We are under hostile attack.”
The officers, including Ray Steed, looked through binoculars. They could see the Stoke but no attack. The admiralty in London was contacted by Captain Giles. They in turn also contacted the Ark Royal.
The communications officer read out the orders.
“Sir, it’s true. The Stoke has just been attacked by three unidentified combat helicopters.”
“Prepare to send two jets immediately,” Captain Stephens ordered.
“This is HMS Ark Royal. Captain Stephens speaking—we are scrambling two fighter jets. Please confirm your status.”
“This is Captain Giles. We have twenty inflatable rafts in the water with British Sea Cadets onboard. They and the marine vessel you launched have been attacked by three combat helicopters. We need as much help and manpower as you can spare. We have one hundred and twenty cadets in the water. We have major casualties. I repeat…major casualties.”
Ray Steed ordered twelve rescue launches and four helicopters. Captain Stephens gave orders that any casualties or fatalities were to be brought to the Ark Royal, for it had far better facilities than the Stoke.
***
In London, it was seven o’clock in the morning. The defense minister was briefed. He drove to Downing Street to inform the prime minister. Exact numbers of fatalities and injuries had not yet been discovered.
***
Ray ran back up to the bridge. Sweat bathed his pale face. The first helicopter at the scene reported a chilling message.
“This is K312. We are above the survivors. We have major fatalities and major injuries.”
“This is Captain Stephens. Can you give an estimate?”
“Sir, the sea is red. Bodies are everywhere. As a very rough estimate, I can see at least twenty, maybe thirty—”
“Sir, I need to go and help,” Ray requested.
“No, Steed, I need you here.” Captain Stephens looked at Ray’s face and could see the panic written across it. He called Steed over to the corner of the bridge to speak to him alone.
“Steed, I have known you a long time. It’s not like you to panic. Pull yourself together, man.”
“Jason is with them. He is a cadet, sir.”
“Is that your son?”
“Yes, sir.”
“His best chance now is if you do everything here you can. We will find him. For now, I need your full support.”
In the background, Ray could hear the sound of gunfire over the radio. The helicopters were trying to shoot some of the sharks that were having a feeding frenzy on the injured and dead cadets.
***
Major Wilson, Ryan, Pete, and John finally made the shoreline of Jakarta. Jason and Todd were now well behind them, but fifteen minutes after the others had reached safety, Jason’s toes scraped the ground. He seized Todd and dragged him to the beautiful, white sandy beach. It stretched far into the distance, ending in a dense tropical plantation of coconut palms and a mass of green shrubbery.
The moment the two boys reached the shore, they came under fire from somewhere in the undergrowth to their left. The marines instinctively opened fire. Ryan took a bullet in his shoulder, but he switched hands and carried on shooting regardless. John, Jason, and Todd buried their faces in the hot sand.
The shooting ceased.
“Come, we need cover!” Major Wilson barked. They stood and ran toward the undergrowth. John stuck close behind Wilson’s huge frame. Todd, still coughing, struggled, but Jason pulled Todd’s arms over his shoulder and ran with him. The shooting started again. Jason heard a loud thud and found himself tumbling down into the sand. Todd screamed out in pain. Again, the marines returned fire.
Jason rolled Todd over. He coughed a mouthful of blood into Jason’s face. His eyes rolled around in his head, and his body squirmed in pain. Jason pulled open Todd’s shirt and found that his friend had a huge hole in his chest. Blood bubbled out as he fought to breathe.
“I want to go home,” Todd gasped.
“Try not to speak. You’re gonna be okay, Todd,” Jason said, using his cap to try to stop the bleeding that was frothing from his chest wound.
The shooting ceased. Major Wilson shouted to Jason.
“Kid, drag him here. You’re in the open.”
Jason got up and lifted Todd up by the shoulders and dragged him up the beach. Again, shots rang out, shooting sand up around Jason, blinding him. Jason kept pulling his friend backward. He ran back as fast as he could among the storm of whizzing bullets. The marines fired back, trying to give him cover.
Two loud thuds came again and ripped Todd’s body away from his grasp. Jason jumped to the ground and crawled back to Todd. Again, he rolled him over. Todd had been hit twice in his hip and the side of his body. His body was swimming in blood. Todd grabbed Jason’s wrist tightly and stared at him, pleading for help with his eyes. The air bubbles from his chest wound ceased, and his grip on Jason’s wrist relaxed and then released. Jason watched Todd’s eyes slowly turn lifeless. Jason placed his ear to his friend’s mouth to listen for breathing. He tried to find a pulse.
“Todd, come on, talk to me, mate,” Jason pleaded. Pete crawled back and joined them. He placed his fingers next to Todd’s windpipe for a sign of life.
“He’s gone, kid. Get up to the others.”
“What about Todd?”
“You did everything you could. Now move!” Pete ordered.
They ran back up to join the group. John was helping Ryan wrap a bandage around his shoulder. Jason was covered in blood and sand.
“You hit, kid?” Wilson asked bluntly.
Jason shook his head, too shocked to speak.
“Let’s go. We can’t stay here,” Wilson ordered.
John carried Ryan’s backpack. Jason quietly followed behind as his head spun. It all felt like a bad dream. His friend had died in front of him. Wilson ran through the undergrowth. Jason fought to keep pace and tried wiping the sand from his eyes, but the more he tried, the worse he made it. His hands and arms were covered in sticky blood. He knew he couldn’t think. He only knew he had to keep moving.
Chapter Twelve
At nightfall, Wilson ordered the ragtag group of survivors to settle down by a river.
“Do we complete the mission, sir?” Pete asked.
“Yes, it’s too important. Ryan, can you carry on?”
“Yes, sir,” Ryan grunted. “The bullet went right through.”
“What’s your name, cadet?” Wilson asked John. “How old are you?”
“John Leigh, sir. I’m nearly sixteen.”
“We will need your help. Can you shoot?”
“Yes, sir.”
Wilson nodded. “What I am about to tell you is classified, but you need to know the importance of it.” He took a deep breath. “Australia and Great Britain joined forces to produce a new type of nuclear weapon. It’s far more sophisticated than anything previously produced. Right now, it is aimed at Moscow as part of our joint defense system. That’s the good news.”
Jason swallowed. His
throat was so parched that it hurt. “What’s the bad news, sir?” he croaked.
“The technology is advanced and tamper proof. Once set, no one can touch it. Even if your country is destroyed, this baby is still going to go off and bite you back. It’s the ultimate in defense. However, the program is on a small cassette, which has been stolen. Intelligence believes by the Chinese. They want nothing more than the Russians and the Western world to fight it out. The Chinese could not admit they are involved, so they traded with the Jakarta government. It’s here on the island. If we don’t get that cassette back in five days, the missile will launch.”
Jason blinked, struggling to process the words.
“Bloody hell,” John hissed. “If it is so important, why did they just send you four and not the whole army?”
“They won’t give us the whereabouts. We have to meet a man who wants to move his family to the United Kingdom. However, with Kevin dead, that’s going to be hard.”
“Did Kevin know him?” John asked.
“No, but he spoke Cantonese. Without him, it will be bloody hard, but we have to try. I work better with a team of four. You could be handy, John.”
“Sir, you forgot something,” Ryan said, pointing with his head and eyes at Jason. He was sitting with his back to them with his head down, desperately trying to keep the insects away that were buzzing around him.
“Kid,” Wilson barked. “It’s the blood they’re after. Go into the river and wash it off. Get it out of your hair and clothes. They’ll leave you alone then.”
Jason crept down to the river and submerged himself in the cool water. He washed his hair, hands, and as much of his shirt as he could. It cleared his head. He knew he had to pull himself together and stop mourning. Todd was gone, and there was nothing he could do now.
Whereas Ryan was squat and sparse with his words, Peter was tall and lanky—and he was from Newcastle, so every other word he spoke was a swear word. His arms and neck were covered in tattoos. He looked like someone you wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of. Jason could hear him talking. “That bloody kid will slow us down.”
Fledgling: Jason Steed Page 11
