Once they headed west and slightly north, their radar picked up two more blips. Those were coming from north of the island. They, too, were headed for the west end of Catalina. Zach would like to believe one of them was the cutter but the cutter would be alone. No, it had to mean that there were five enemy boats. And, judging by the size and speed of the blips, they were all bigger and faster than the heavy cruising sailboat.
With no sign of the cutter, Zach felt the odds against them growing to staggering proportions. They had a bazooka aboard, as well as automatic weapons, but it was likely the enemy was at least as well equipped. The island defenders had two bazookas on that side of the island, and a good hit could sink any of the attacking boats.
That was a plus but any advantage was evaporating quickly. Strong winds blew rockets off target, shrinking the size of the target. The same wind would blow the enemy’s rockets off target, too, but they were shooting toward land. They would hit and destroy something, even if they missed their target. The islander’s missed shots would sail harmlessly into the sea.
The winds grew to more than thirty knots per hour and growing stronger with each passing minute.
* * * * *
Warren’s boat left the Avalon dock at four-thirty, also as planned. By then, the winds were pushing whitecaps into his bow. The Chinese submarine pulled up alongside as they moved along the northern side of Catalina toward Isthmus Cove.
Warren was confident that they would overcome the enemy despite the fact that his radar had picked up five ships coming down from the northeast. He could tell they were large boats by the size of the blips, but he didn’t consider five a large number. Captain Wang’s torpedoes would sink two, and he was sure he would be able to take out at least one. He realized that the wind-caused the boat to rock, which would make aiming a little difficult. But the large size of the targets favored his being able to hit them.
Just as there were bazookas at Catalina Harbor, there were also two bazookas on shore to protect Isthmus Cove. The wind wouldn’t rock the land, so he didn’t anticipate the shooters there would have any trouble zeroing in on their targets. Never having been in a real battle situation, it didn’t occur to him that the wind would throw the rockets off target.
Five minutes into the trip, he glanced over to see how the submarine was riding in the rough seas. The big warship gave him confidence so he wanted to be sure all was well with it.
The submarine was gone. His eyes scanned the waters around where the sub should be but he saw nothing. He risked using a flashlight to brighten the area but all that it revealed was that the only thing around his boat was an increasingly rough ocean.
* * * * *
The La Sirena was one hundred feet out to sea, and the winds kept the water in turmoil when it passed by the fifty-one foot boat that stopped to let Slaughter and his men off, but Zach immediately guessed what was happening. He figured the invaders would use the same hill they tried to use before and attack by land as well as by sea. He told Stacey, who was at the wheel, that she would need to take the sailboat in close to land when they neared the harbor entrance so that he and five others could go ashore to defend the hill.
As dawn approached, they were catching up to the two enemy boats that continued toward the harbor when the fifty-one footer stopped to let Slaughter and his men go ashore. The boats were nearing the harbor entrance, as were the two that were coming in from the north.
They weren’t the only boats in the area but were the only ones moving. There were several small boats anchored inside the harbor and the crippled missile cruiser anchored more than a thousand yards outside, but all of them were dark and quiet. They only moved when hit by one of the increasingly robust waves generated by the growing storm.
The senior Glen Arthur could make out the shapes of the four enemy boats ahead. “This is as good a shot as I’m going to get at those boats,” he said to his son. “Let me see if I can take one of them out before you go ashore.”
Zach made out what looked like cabin cruisers through the misty and windy morning air. The closest was within fifty yards, but the La Sirena was heaving and yawing in the heavy chop.
“I don’t know, Dad,” Zach replied, having to yell to be heard over the howling wind. “Can you steady that bazooka enough to get off a good shot?”
“The wind is just going to get stronger,” reasoned his father.
“Keep her as steady as you can,” Zach told Stacey. “Okay, Dad, give it a shot.”
Mae Arthur brought over a rocket shell as Glen hoisted the bazooka to his shoulder.
* * * * *
Malcolm Slaughter saw the blip that was the La Sirena on his radar as soon as it moved out from Avalon Harbor. He wondered why a boat would be going out so early – he was convinced the islanders were not aware of the impending attack, so he shrugged it off. It was just one boat, and even if the people aboard were armed, the men on his boats should take them out easily.
When Zach’s boat passed the ship that had brought Slaughter, the big man was still within fifty feet of the shore. Even in the stormy darkness, he saw enough of the sailboat to reassess his original thoughts. The boat was following the same course his boats had, heading toward Catalina Harbor. Were the islanders expecting them? If so, they might put people on the hill he was heading for so he hurried his men through the brush and rocks.
“Where were the ambush locations?” he asked the two men who were there before when they neared the hill.
“Ah, well, as I remember it, ah, two were right about here,” one said. It was, in fact, where Mur had positioned himself that day.
“Yeah, um, and another two were over there,” the other man said, pointing toward the western edge of the island where Zach had come up over the rise.
The men made up six other locations to back up their claim that there were at least ten in the ambush party, not just two.
“Well, there’s no one here now,” Slaughter said, looking around. “We can get over to that hill and set up with time to spare before the attack.”
The other fourteen men in the group were not aware the two were lying, and they kept scanning the area for gunners waiting to ambush them.
One looked out over the bay and saw the La Sirena catching up to their own two boats. There was now enough predawn light for him to get an idea what was happening on the deck of the sailboat. It looked like there was a man with a long tube on his shoulder. “Mal,” he called. “Look.”
Slaughter looked to where the man pointed and saw the bazooka on Glen’s shoulder. It wasn’t time to initiate the attack and he didn’t bring out the flare gun, but they couldn’t wait. He called to the two men closest to shore. “There,” he yelled. “On the sailboat. Kill that guy with the bazooka. Now!”
The men looked seaward and brought their weapons around to train them on the sailboat and the guy with the rocket launcher.
The cracking reports of two rifles being fired broke into the eerie whistling sounds of buffeting winds. Two bullets zinged with deadly intent through the damp, swirling air.
* * * * *
Chapter 45
ONE of the men attempting to shoot Glen Arthur jerked upright and then slumped forward when a bullet hit him in the middle of his back. He pulled the trigger as he went down, but his final movement pushed the rifle downward and the bullet burrowed into the ground in front of him. The second shooter, hit in the shoulder, twisted and fell backward. He, too, fired as he fell. That bullet shot harmlessly into the air.
Caught off guard, Slaughter swung around to try to identify from where the shots had come. The howling winds made it difficult to pinpoint sound but there was a mound with several large rocks off to the right. That would be a good place for someone to lay in ambush. It was more than forty yards away from the locations his men told him the last ambush originated.
He turned to give orders to the thirteen remaining troops on the hill, “Take out whoever is behind those rocks,” he screamed over the din of the mounting storm.
He pointed toward the rocks, not seeing the two rifles that came out around the sides.
Four men jumped up to obey, and two were cut down immediately.
The other two dove back to the cover they just left. Others made no move to give up the safety of the rocks and dirt mounds that protected them and now appeared more determined than ever to stay there.
* * * * *
Glen heard shots off in the distance as he fired his bazooka. Because he flinched at the sounds, or because of the wind, or both, the rocket veered off to the left, zipping past the target boat and the one just ahead of it.
The course of the two boats coming to the harbor entrance from the north was west of the boats the rocket missed.
That put them in the path of the stray rocket. The lead boat was directly in its path, and the bazooka’s rocket shell ripped out one side of the main cabin, killing three men and demolishing a bazooka.
* * * * *
Mur and fifteen-year-old Glen crouched back behind two large rocks after their second shots felled two more enemy troops.
Young Glen was there because he guessed correctly that Mur would again go to Two Harbors to side with the residents there. He went to the ex-soldier’s secluded camp in the middle of Catalina and insisted on going along with him. Mur resisted taking the teenager with him.
“If you don’t take me with you,” Glen said determinedly, “I will go by myself.”
In the end, the experienced fighter determined that the youngster would be a lot safer with him than on his own, so he relented.
They arrived at the mound on the Isthmus Cove side of the island a little after four in the morning. Mur selected the spot because he anticipated that if enemy troops came by land, they would check out the spot he used the time before. Soon after they arrived, the winds began to blow, so the former soldier did what he could to teach Glen how to aim in heavy winds. It was obvious the young man was accustomed to handling a weapon, but shooting in windy conditions changed the aiming process. Being as they could not take any practice shots, he conveyed as much as he could verbally, describing how he learned to judge the affects wind had on a bullet’s trajectory when serving in Afghanistan.
He had mixed emotions about the results of his teaching. Although he was a little off, only wounding his targets, the boy did not miss either of them despite the wind. Under the circumstances, that was positive.
But, Glen was fifteen years old. Mur could only hope that having to fight for his life did not turn him into a person like himself – living alone in the middle of an island for fear of what he might do if he was regularly exposed to a populated society.
* * * * *
The Chinese submarine glided slowly underwater toward Isthmus Cove. Han was in control. He sneaked up behind Captain Wang and knocked him out as soon as the sub left Avalon Harbor. He had two of the men who disliked the Americans take the captain to his cabin where they locked him in until they could deal with him appropriately.
As soon as he was in control, Han ordered the crew to submerge. The purpose of going to the scene of the upcoming battle was no longer to assist the islanders. Han’s only desire was to observe. He wanted to watch as the people at Two Harbors and those from Avalon who sided with them were wiped out completely.
After they accomplished that, he would return to Avalon and have Marcus set up a meeting with the governor of California, the man named Silva. Together they would build a new society, a society of the people. He and Silva would know what that required.
* * * * *
Captain Wang woke up on his bunk, still groggy from being hit on the head. He lay still for a minute, trying to recall what happened. He was at a loss. He went to the door and tried to open it but it was locked.
When he tried to turn the handle, there was a light tapping on the door. He tapped back.
“Captain,” came a soft whisper.
“Yu?” Wang, too, whispered.
“Yes, Captain. Are you all right?”
“My head hurts, but I’m okay. What happened?”
“Han hit you, and now he has assumed command of the ship.”
“Ah, so he’s the spy.”
“He says he is the representative of the Chinese Communist Party. According to him, the ship belongs to them, and he has the right to take it.”
“That fool!” Wang started to raise his voice but caught himself and continued to whisper. “There is no longer a Chinese Communist Party. Who sided with him?”
“Ling and Bai brought you here and seem to follow his orders without question. The others are confused. They do not obey with great enthusiasm but do as they’re told.”
“Yu, we need to take the ship back. Go to the starboard torpedo room. There is a set of keys in the compartment near the controls. Get me out of here, and we’ll confront Han.”
“We must be careful, Captain Wang” cautioned Yu. “Han gave Ling your pistol.”
“Ling, not Bai?”
“Yes,” said Yu. “He is a staunch Communist.”
“I know,” agreed Wang. “He is very dedicated to following rules of order.”
* * * * *
Slaughter was frustrated and angry. The battle had not yet begun, yet in the last minute he lost seven men, a valuable bazooka, and one of his ships.
It was time to send up the flare and get rid of these upstarts once and for all. He reached for the flare gun.
A bullet knocked it away.
Then, the cacophonous wail of a siren swept through the bay, momentarily drowning out the sounds of the roiling winds.
* * * * *
Chapter 46
THE light that came with the breaking of dawn allowed Zach to see all that was in the bay, but he saw nothing that accounted for the loud siren.
Stacey was at the wheel and had her eye on the radar screen. “Zach, look!” she cried.
He went to the radar and saw the large blip, the crippled missile cruiser, was separating in two. The part that was moving was smaller and was on the outward side. Once clear of the major part of the blip, the outside part moved south and around the stern of the cruiser.
A minute later, the Arthurs saw the Coast Guard cutter coming around from behind the cruiser. It was moving toward the enemy boats, its siren still blowing. A helicopter replaced the missile launchers attached to the bow deck. Several men stood with super bazookas near the aircraft. They weren’t firing yet. With the winds as strong as they were, Zach was sure they would wait until they were right on top of the enemy boats.
What surprised the Arthurs was that the men with bazookas aboard the enemy boats weren’t firing, either.
“While we have the time,” Zach told his wife. “take us over to shore. I have a feeling that was Mur doing the shooting over there, and he’s going to need some help.”
* * * * *
When Warren’s boat got to Isthmus Cove, the five enemy boats that came down from the north were already there. The four seventy footers stopped five hundred yards short of the shore and they were one hundred yards apart.
Warren wasn’t an experienced soldier, but he learned much in the two months since the world erupted into a war that left most people dead. He knew that the effective range of a super bazooka trying to hit a target such as a tank or boat is three hundred yards. With so much space between those four boats, he realized the people on land would have a difficult time hitting any of them. Added to the distance factor, the strong winds could make their task impossible.
On the other side of the issue, the people on the boats would be shooting at a very large target. Even their wildest bazooka shots would likely hit something or somebody. All they needed was a lot of ammo and they had that. Plus, they had hundreds of troops with automatic weapons
Warren saw that the biggest ship, the three-hundred-foot cargo carrier, had stopped more than a mile farther out to sea. Even at that distance, he could see that there was a tank on its bow deck. He couldn’t guess why the ship was staying so far away, but was thankful that i
t was. It wasn’t an immediate danger to him and the others on board his forty-foot boat – which was looking pretty small at the moment.
The cargo ship, as was the case with the other four boats, wasn’t moving, save for the rocking caused by the wind and waves.
When Warren’s boat was within a few hundred yards of the closest seventy footer, he heard gunshots coming from the island and an explosion on the other side. Anticipating that it was the start of the attack, he braced for an onslaught from the five enemy boats in front of him.
Nothing happened.
He could see men with bazookas and others with automatic weapons on the decks of the ships, but they weren’t doing anything. He couldn’t guess what they were waiting for, but he had nothing to restrain him. “Sam,” he said to the man with the bazooka near him, “stay hidden while I get us a little closer so you can get a clear shot at the side of that closest boat. When I say ‘now,’ jump up and get off a couple of shots. Make the second shot a fast one because I’m high-tailing it out of there about two seconds after you make that first shot.”
He motored at an angle in the general direction of the boat. That would take him to within fifty yards of the seventy footer and his port beam would be facing the port beam of the bigger boat.
The more than twenty men on the deck of the large boat went to their port rail to watch the approaching cabin cruiser. They were all armed, two with bazookas and the others with automatic weapons, but they weren’t shooting. Even when Warren’s boat got close, they still seemed reluctant to open fire.
* * * * *
Slaughter was beside himself, frustrated at what he was seeing from his position atop the hill. Both harbors had become unnecessary problems and that was because his men were blowing it. When he saw the cutter, his suspicions were confirmed that the islanders knew the attack was coming. Otherwise, the cutter and the other two boats wouldn’t be there. But, they could be beaten. The submarine was obviously out of action, so he still had more than enough boats and ammo to demolish the islanders and those three boats. His boats were in position to do just that.
Seeking a Sane Society: Nothing is the Same (The Seeking Series Book 2) Page 19
