“Ah, what the hell does an old sea dog know about it?” Jenks said and then guided Ellenshaw away from the railing. “All I want to do is get home and then live the rest of my life with a woman who will do all the thinking. Now, let’s get you some of those leftovers and get something into that skinny-ass body of yours.”
Charlie smiled, knowing that even a heavy brain like Jenks could think about the good of things.
“I envy you, Master Chief,” Charlie said as Jenks slapped a large piece of pork into his hand.
“Ah, crap. I envy you, Nerdly, having three names like you do. Charles Hindershot Ellenshaw III,” he said, looking up at the moon and its trailing comet-like tail. “Now that is really a name you can sink your teeth into.”
Charlie smiled, as this was the first time Master Chief Jenks ever called him by his real name.
As the two men turned away from the sea, they failed to see the underwater bubbles pass by the bow of the Simbirsk. They were heading straight for Compton’s Reef.
17
TICONDEROGA-CLASS AEGIS MISSILE CRUISER USS SHILOH
Jack, Carl, Ryan, Henri Farbeaux, and a weary Captain Ezra Johnson watched from the darkened CIC far beneath the main deck of the heavy cruiser. They spied the activity on the wide-screen monitor on the bulkhead. Other members of the CIC teams were monitoring radar and sonar, but they watched the activity on the monitor, as did the officers.
The drone was flying high over Peter the Great. Most of the sailors were still settling in from their evening with the islanders. The night watch had been posted, and the crew, for the most part, went belowdecks for some well-earned sleep. Jack smiled when he saw that a lot of the Russian boys were wearing traditional United States Navy headgear. The reason for the covert flight was an attempt to spy on Salkukoff and his commandos. As the propeller-driven drone circled Peter the Great, they saw nothing of the colonel.
Captain Johnson patted the shoulder of the drone’s remote control specialist. “Bring her back home, Jenkins. We’re not going to see anything that bastard doesn’t want us to see.”
“Aye, sir,” the young man said as he input the correct orders into the remote system. The drone would fly back and land softly in the water next to Shiloh, where she would be recovered and recharged.
“Well, that was a bust,” Ryan said as he rubbed his eyes.
“Captain, we’re picking up something strange on the horizon,” young Seaman Jenkins said as he pointed to the large monitor. “We have a bright glow to the south.”
“Adjust angle of turn and bring the camera up.”
The drone turned, and instead of overflying Shiloh, she pointed her nose camera toward Compton’s Reef.
“What the hell?” Johnson said as he took a tentative step closer to the large monitor, as if getting closer to it he could actually see more detail. What the high-definition camera system told him and the others was that Compton’s Reef was burning.
Jack and the others were out of CIC in a flash. All sleepiness and weariness were now gone. As they hit the steps leading up, the general quarters alarm sounded throughout Shiloh.
“All hands, man rescue stations. All sea rescue elements to their stations; this is no drill. I repeat, no drill. Man rescue craft!”
Jack and his men gained the main deck, and all they could see was the Shiloh’s powerful searchlights probing the seas between herself and the island. Even Peter the Great was in the process of launching rescue crews in whaleboats.
“Marine strike team report to boat ramp six.”
“Let’s go,” Jack said as he started making for the stern, where the marine unit would be launched. “Carl, radio the Royal Marines stationed on Simbirsk. They are to hold station at any cost. Tell them to keep their heads on a swivel, as this could be a ruse of some kind.”
“Got it, Jack,” Everett said as he raised the radio and made the call.
* * *
Altogether, there were three Zodiacs filled with the marine strike team assembled on Shiloh. They were closely followed by the Russian complement of shipboard marines in their larger whaleboats. There were no less than a hundred fighting men moving toward the burning island, along with the other Zodiacs filled with corpsmen and damage control specialists from Shiloh.
As their boats struck the brown-colored sand, they heard the screaming coming from the village at the center of the island. The two varying marine elements broke into two groups with the Russians going to the left and the American marines to the right. They moved quickly as the screams of the islanders became louder. The flames reached far above the coconut trees and palms. The flaming tendrils reached out for the setting moon.
As Jack broke into the open, he couldn’t believe what it was he was seeing. The creatures, the Wasakoo, as Salkukoff had informed them, were running from hut to hut, setting them aflame. Their long spears were dispatching those women and children who were too slow to move. Curved swords were slicing into women and children alike. Warriors from the village were putting up a brave fight, but Jack could see they were losing badly. Collins aimed his nine millimeter and shot the closest of the green-skinned creatures. The tentacled giant turned with a loud, screaming hiss and started toward Jack just as fifteen M4 automatic weapons opened fire beside him.
Farbeaux and Carl broke into the clearing and came face-to-face with one of the Wasakoo. The beast had a spear in hand, poised to throw, and in one of the eight tentacles it had circling its neck, it held a pearl-handled bone knife. Farbeaux and Carl both fired their handguns at the same instant.
The Russian marines opened fire from the opposite end of the village as they caught those Wasakoo who were now in flight in the open. The shots slowly dwindled down as the attackers were quickly dispatched. Jack swallowed hard and then reached for the radio.
“Captain, Collins here, over.”
“Johnson, go.”
“Captain, we need the rest of the medics and more medical supplies ASAP, over.”
“We were watching from the drone. I’ve already dispatched additional medical and rescue teams. I informed Captain Kreshenko. He’s also sending what he can. Oh, shit. Those green fish bastards are escaping on the western side of the island. No, never mind. The Russian marines just saw to it they aren’t going anywhere.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Jack said as he replaced his radio.
Charlie and Jenks were late arriving, as no one waited for them to enter one of the landing craft. As they advanced slowly into the clearing, they saw the devastation. The bodies of the very people they had just shared a feast with were spread throughout the clearing. Their homes were in flames, and Russian and American sailors were doing all they could to not only secure the area but to assist the wounded and dying. The anger among the young sailors and marines of both nations was palpable as one dead child or woman after the other was turned over and examined. The gifts that had been given to the islanders were strewn throughout the shattered village.
“Did we cause this?” Charlie asked as he leaned over and felt for a pulse of a young boy who had the entry wound of one of the large spear points in his back. He lowered his head when he found the child lifeless.
“No, Doc, we didn’t,” Jenks said as he sadly faced the destroyed village and its people. His eyes fell on the men of the community. They had died bravely, as they all had weapons in their hands. He shook his head and wondered if Charlie was right after all. These people had lived here for how many thousands of years and hadn’t been wiped out by this aggressor species before this, so why now? He spit and tossed his dead cigar away, no longer wanting that small simple pleasure.
* * *
Collins found Farbeaux, Everett, and Ryan standing by one of the bodies of the fishermen who had brought them the bounty they had just consumed. It was the elder of the village lying there with his throat slashed and a spear in his side. He was dead, and Jack Collins cursed himself for not thinking about posting some form of security detail for these innocent people.
“
Jack, you’d better take a look at this,” Carl said as he stood from his kneeling position.
Collins slowly walked over, and he was joined by a stunned Master Chief Jenks and a tearful Charlie Ellenshaw. Carl tossed something, and Jack caught it in the dwindling moonlight. He held the object up and examined it in the flames. His eyes narrowed as he looked at it.
“This one was wearing it,” Carl said as he kicked out at the still form at his feet. The tentacles around the creature’s head moved, but it was only a nerve reaction. The long, thick muscled appendages moved and then settled.
The object that was removed from the lifeless body was nothing more than a canvas pouch with a long strap attached. Jack held it up closer to the fires and saw the Russian writing on it. He tossed it to Henri, who was fluent in Cyrillic writing.
Henri looked up after a quick examination and raised his eyebrows in confusion.
“What is it?” Ryan asked as Henri handed the canvas bag to him.
“What did it say?” Charlie asked as he pried his eyes away from the slaughter around him.
“Rostov-on-Don.”
“What is that?” Ryan asked as he gave the bag back to Henri.
“It’s a city in southern Russia.” Jack turned and saw Kreshenko coming onto the scene accompanied by six Russian marines. Of Salkukoff and his black-clad killers, there was no sign. Kreshenko’s face held the visage of a man shocked beyond measure at the carnage around him. Collins took the carrying bag from an angry Henri Farbeaux and approached the captain and tossed him the bag.
“Can you explain this? It was found on one of the aquatic creatures. He was wearing it.”
“Rostov-on-Don,” he read aloud, loud enough that his accompanying marines all looked pale in the firelight.
“I cannot,” Kreshenko said. “This does not make sense to me.”
“Do you think someone in your company might know?” Jack asked, not allowing Kreshenko to know his anger was close to being out of control.
The captain slapped the bag into a marine’s hands and then nodded and turned and quickly left the village that had turned into a massacre site.
Jack turned and nodded for everyone to help and assist the medical teams as best as they could. He pulled Henri aside.
“Why would a bag with the name of an obscure Russian city be on one of those creatures?”
“I don’t know, Colonel. Perhaps it was taken from Simbirsk on one of her magical appearances into this world, just like the book Treasure Island.”
Jack nodded and started to turn away.
“What are you thinking, Colonel?”
Collins stopped and turned.
“I would conclude that you were probably right, Henri, with one exception: the Russians, nor anyone else during the ’40s, had a little-known invention called Velcro.”
Farbeaux watched Jack walk away to assist the dead and the dying and shook his head.
“Yes, I could see how that places a big hole right in the middle of that theory.”
18
Jack sat against a small charred log and counted the bodies. Three hundred and twelve of the kind and gentle villagers were lying dead in the early morning light. The sun rose against the backdrop of smoldering grass huts and the meager possessions of this simple people. He knew that at least some of the villagers had escaped the carnage, but he suspected they would never see them again. How could trust ever be regained once lost? Their lives had been affected by strangers more than once, and in all instances, the newcomers had fallen far short of a just treatment of these natives.
“It’s not your fault, Jack.”
Collins looked up and shaded his eyes from the sun rising behind Carl. The career navy man sat at the end of the burned log and lowered his head.
Jack and Carl looked from the scene of devastation around them as Charlie and Jenks walked up. Jack stood, as did Everett. They were all covered in soot and were filthy from searching for survivors inside their shattered homes. Ellenshaw was worse than anyone. He was burned in several places, and his hair was even more of a mess than ever. Beyond Charlie’s condition, they could all see the morale of the combined sailors and marines had taken a serious hit. Russian marines sat with American marines, and all were in shock at what had happened. One such Russian was holding the broken hockey stick he had given one of the male children. He angrily threw it away and then stood and left.
“My search parties have not turned up any more of the surviving islanders, Colonel. I am afraid we have made our friendship with the native people a moot and very much lost point after this.”
They turned and saw Kreshenko and his XO, Dishlakov, as they examined the village for the first time. In the rising sun, they closed their eyes against the devastation.
“Captain, it’s time you chose a side.”
Kreshenko looked at Jack, as his words seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. Captain Kreshenko held the look a moment and then turned away. Dishlakov looked as though he wanted to say something but stopped short. He turned and followed his captain.
“Second Captain Dishlakov,” Collins called out to the man’s retreating form. He slowed and then stopped without turning. “We are all responsible for this slaughter.”
Dishlakov hung his shoulders and then left the clearing.
“We’re going to have to do this without them, Jack,” Carl said as he watched the second captain vanish into the scorched undergrowth.
Collins looked around him at the burned homes of their new friends. His mouth went into a straight line.
“I agree. But first, our friend Henri has a job to do,” Jack said as he removed the radio from its case. “And I’m going to help him.”
Carl watched the colonel turn away to speak privately with Farbeaux, and he didn’t like the look on Jack’s face one bit.
TICONDEROGA-CLASS AEGIS MISSILE CRUISER USS SHILOH
Jack had his eyes closed inside the darkened and air-conditioned interior of the Shiloh’s CIC. Everett, Henri, and Ryan, along with Captain Johnson, sat beside him as their eyes watched the screen above them. The view was aerial, and it showed the vastness of this violet sea. The drone had been launched five hours before, and even on its power-conservation settings, it was now low on power without seeing anything to the southwest. Their theory on a reef or another small island was now getting weaker and weaker.
“That’s it, Captain. We have hit the PNR. We have to bring her back to the barn,” announced the young lieutenant JG from his seat.
“The point of no return had been reached, Colonel. We have to bring back the drone or lose her.”
Collins opened his eyes and sat up. “Bring her back. This is like searching for a needle in a stack of other needles.” Jack stood and stretched. He slapped the operator on the back. “How long until you can get the remote recharged and in the air again?” He glanced at the digital watch on the bulkhead. “We have to find out where these creatures come from and if the Russians have any surprises for us out there.”
“Thirty minutes’ return trip and another twenty to change her batteries and another five to download her old programming and install new.”
Captain Johnson silently nodded in agreement.
The remote control operator sat up straight in his chair and then gestured toward the monitor.
“We have something, thirty-six miles out.”
On the monitor, the men inside the CIC saw an amazing sight. The complex makeup of natural coral material spiraled into the afternoon sky. In brightly colored towers made up of the organisms that constituted the living reefs of coral, they saw the home of the aquatic species that had been allied with Salkukoff. The computer display, as generated from the visual information supplied to Shiloh by their drone, scrolled across the screen. The system immediately identified no fewer than seventy of the giant coral towers as they rose from a naturally supported bed of reef that stretched for fifty miles or more. Jack saw thousands of boats tied up in and around this exotic community.
“Lo
ok. As clear as the water is, you can see the structures are more under the water than they are above,” Ryan said as he leaned closer to the monitor.
Battlements and other defensive positions lined the uppermost reaches of the coral towers. They could see thousands of the aquatic species as they went about their chores for the day. It was almost medieval in its makeup.
“Charlie should see this,” Carl said as he watched the amazing scene below the drone’s cameras.
“Captain, sonar.”
Johnson moved quickly to his four sonar operators. He leaned in and saw their waterfall displays and immediately saw the anomaly. Then as he watched, the contact went dark again, and the waterfall display of color went back to its pristine shape of straight lines.
“Have you checked your equipment?”
“Yes, Skipper. Diagnostics says we are back to 100 percent reliability. There is something out there.”
“What is it?” Jack asked as he, Carl, and Jason crowded around.
“A soft sonar contact bearing the same course as that reef. Not sure if it’s real or not. Hell, it could be below or above the water. Being just over the horizon, radar is no good.”
Collins moved away, deep in thought.
“I can tell you’re thinking the same thing I am. Why would Salkukoff leave his only way back home?” Carl said as Ryan also nodded in agreement that it was indeed strange for the Russian to take that chance.
“He has to have an alternate source of the phase shift equipment. My guess is another ship.”
They all turned back to the monitor that was being overflown one last time by the drone. They had garnered the attention of the Wasakoo, as many of them were pointing to the sky. By their frantic gestures, the sight of the strange birdlike drone awed and confused the aggressive species.
“Look at their boats,” Ryan said as he placed a hand on the shoulder of the operating lieutenant. “Can you come in tighter on their watercraft?”
The operator brought the drone into a shallow dive toward the towering coral city. The drone leveled out, and the camera zoomed in tight.
Beyond the Sea--An Event Group Thriller Page 27
