Atlantis - Return of the Nation

Atlantis - Return of the Nation Page 33

by Steven Cook

  ‘Admiral on the deck,’ announced a petty officer as they stepped into the Combat Information Centre.

  ‘Carry on.’ Davies announced.

  The men and women returned to their duties, casting the odd curious glance at the two men capable of instigating the full offensive power of the fleet.

  ‘Somebody get me a communications link set up with the White House Situation Room, the Commander of the USS Wyoming and Lieutenant Fisher.’ Davies ordered.

  ‘Where’s the latest satellite image of the island?’ questioned Shinoda.

  Ensign Jason McMahon stepped up beside the two men and quickly activated the Electronic Chart Display and Information System. With practiced ease he brought up several displays and overlaid them, providing a running commentary as he did.

  ‘This is the current arrangement of the fleet and any additional ships based on the secure GPS. Their transponders have been providing track details.’

  Another flurry of keystrokes gave more information.

  ‘This is the current RADAR image incorporating the information from the targeting and long range systems.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Davies, ‘where is the Wyoming?’

  McMahon scanned the displayed image then typed in a string of commands.

  ‘Sir, the USS Wyoming is approximately three hundred miles south west of our current location.’

  ‘Sir, we have everybody on line.’ A communications officer called from the far side of the room.

  Davies and Shinoda picked up handsets and looked at the tactical display.

  Voices from across the Atlantic and Washington DC came over the secure communications directly to their ears.

  ‘This is the President of the United States; I have with me the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Please introduce yourselves gentlemen.’

  The Joint Chiefs called out their introductions.

  ‘I understand we have Admiral Davies and Captain Shinoda of the USS George H W Bush, Captain Gilligan of the USS Wyoming and Lieutenant Fisher of the 75th Rangers.’

  *

  USS Wyoming Mid Atlantic 26th May

  Captain Lance Gilligan sat in his cabin with his long legs stretched out before him, crossed at the ankle. Across the cabin his XO, Commander Robin Oxley leant against the small desk.

  Gilligan had a handset pressed to his ear.

  ‘This is Captain Gilligan, USS Wyoming. I have with me Commander Oxley. He doesn’t have a handset so he can only listen to one side of the conversation.’

  Gilligan listened hard to the other three connections having their conversation.

  ‘Captain Shinoda and myself have determined that there is no way we can get a bird in the air to drop conventional hardware onto the target. The field around the island will affect sea and land skimming missiles we believe. That leaves a ballistic attack.

  ‘The Wyoming is the nearest asset with ballistic capability. I suggest she launches a missile on a high altitude flight path so that all course corrections can be ironed out before the missile enters the field.

  ‘We will have one strike only at the target so it will have to count, even if it is slightly off course. That means we will have to use a tactical nuclear warhead.’ Davies went silent.

  ‘Jack Henry, Chief of Staff. Have all other means been investigated?’

  ‘Sir, this is Lieutenant Fisher. We are experiencing a heavy storm at this time. Our local intelligence believes that the enemy forces will not move in this weather. We should be able to get to the target before them and secure it.’ Fisher’s voice was accompanied by the obvious sounds of heavy rain thrashing down around him.

  ‘This is General Norton. Do you have any intelligence to support this theory?’

  ‘Yes Sir. We have a Minoan under our control and he is incapacitated at the moment. We have also observed the main Minoan encampment and they are not moving.’

  ‘How did you observe them? They are more than four miles away. Am I correct?’ The General seemed a bit surprised.

  ‘Sir, we have an additional member in our party. You probably won’t believe it but it’s a sphinx.’

  In the White House Situation Room General Norton looked at Phil Taylor and drew a finger across his throat. Taylor immediately disabled the microphone, enabling the men in the room to talk without being heard by the other connections.

  ‘It was a mistake to send Fisher back into the situation. The pressure of loosing his command has obviously affected him.’

  The President looked around the table.

  ‘Pete, what do you think?’

  General Ciuffetelli was silent for a moment.

  ‘Although it sounds farfetched his actions have been solid since he re-entered the arena. We need his assessment of his capabilities.’ He nodded towards Taylor.

  ‘Lieutenant, General Ciuffetelli here. What is the tactical composition of your party?’

  ‘Sir, I have two rangers including myself; a seaman from each of the US and Royal Navies, four Atlantian warriors, a Minoan and a sphinx. We have three M4 carbines, approximately five hundred rounds of ammunition for them. Twelve rounds for the M203 launchers and eight fragmentation grenades. We also have four Sig handguns with about thirty rounds each. The Atlantians have swords and javelins.’

  Ciuffetelli signalled for Taylor to cut off the microphone again.

  ‘It’s a tactical nightmare. They are facing an enemy with three times as many ‘men’ with two experienced fighters, four locals, two passengers and two extras who may or may not turn on them at any point. We have to go with the nuclear strike.’

  The President looked around the table at the others. Each gave a resigned nod. The President signalled Taylor and prepared his words carefully.

  Gilligan heard the short crackle as the communications were resumed. Realising that something was coming up he waved to Oxley, who levered himself off the table to lean over. The two officers shared the handset.

  ‘Admiral Davies. Your orders are to launch a tactical ballistic missile at the objective designated as Zeus’ Temple.’

  There was a short silence before the voice of the Ranger cut in.

  ‘Sir, with respect, we can get to the objective before the Minoans.’

  ‘Lieutenant, the President has made his decision. Remember who you are.’ General Norton barked at the speaker.

  ‘But sir…’

  ‘Cut him off,’ instructed Norton to Taylor.

  ‘Captain Gilligan,’ started the President. ‘How long will it take you to get a missile on target?’

  Gilligan thought for a moment.

  ‘Mr President, you have the option of launching a Trident II with either a single warhead or multiple warheads. Either way we can be at launch depth within half an hour of your final order. Flight time from launch will be approximately half an hour. I would say we could easily strike within the hour.’

  ‘Thank you Captain. Please proceed. You are authorised for weapons release. We will send you the coordinates of the target immediately.’

  ‘Yes Sir.’ Gilligan returned the handset to its cradle.

  ‘Come on Rob.’

  The two officers left the cabin and took the few steps into the control room of the Ohio Class submarine. The XO took down a handset and addressed the crew.

  ‘Attention all hands. This is the XO. All hands to action stations. This is not a drill. Prepare to launch primary weapons system.’

  Oxley replaced the handset.

  ‘Conn, take us up to launch depth. Comms, do we have target coordinates?’

  ‘Sir, I have just received the coordinates.’

  The deck of the submarine tilted as it began to slide upwards through the dark water.

  The captain took over.

  ‘Begin Nuclear Weap
on Launch Protocol.’

  Like a well-oiled machine the crew of the submarine began the regulated process required to launch one of the twenty-four missiles located in the submarine’s silo.

  ‘Sir, we are at launch depth,’ announced the Conn officer several minutes later.

  ‘Task the missile in bay one with the coordinates,’ ordered Gilligan.

  ‘Aye sir,’ came the prompt reply from the warfare specialist sitting at the missile console. ‘Coordinates set and locked.’

  There was a short pause.

  ‘Coordinates transferred to Missile One’s Navigation System.’

  ‘Open Missile One outer door,’ ordered Gilligan.

  There was a short pause then they felt rather than heard the thick outer hatch door lock into place.

  ‘XO, enter your code.’

  Oxley leaned over his console and tapped in his secure identifier. At an identical console across the CIC Gilligan mirrored the actions.

  Gilligan looked up.

  ‘OK, insert your key.’

  Both men removed the keys from around their necks and inserted them into locks on the consoles.

  ‘Three - Two - One - Mark.’

  They both turned the keys a quarter turn clockwise.

  ‘Sir the weapon is hot,’ the warfare specialist called.

  ‘Launch the weapon,’ ordered Gilligan.

  The seaman lifted the guard from the release button and depressed it.

  Behind the CIC a blast of compressed nitrogen blasted the Trident II missile out of its silo and through the fifty metres of ocean above the submarine. The fifty-eight tonne missile broached the surface is a massive plume and strained for the sky and freedom.

  Before gravity and the ocean could reclaim it the first stage solid propellant ignited, accelerated the missile upwards into the lightening sky. The blast of the rocket motors vaporised an area of the ocean surface, leaving a cloud of steam as it was pushed upwards on a tail of fire.

  In the submarine below the surface they had felt and heard the launch.

  ‘Take us down to three hundred feet, change course to 140 and take us up to twenty knots. I’ll be in my cabin.’ Captain Gilligan walked past the XO.

  ‘God help anybody near that valley.’ He wiped his hand across his face. ‘Rob, you have the deck.’

  ‘Aye sir,’ Oxley smiled grimly as the Captain slowly left the CIC.

  *

  Northern Plain 26th May

  Fisher stood in the pouring rain. His arm dropped to his side, the handset dropped onto the shale of the riverbank.

  ‘They cut me off.’ He turned to the rest of the group.

  ‘They did what?’ said Dingo.

  ‘They decided that we have no chance of stopping the Minoans and have gone ahead with their plan to nuke Zeus.’

  ‘I take it that this is not a good result?’ said Saraph.

  ‘It’s a bloody marvellous result,’ said Dingo explosively, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  ‘Why?’ asked Sophia, taken aback by the Australian’s response.

  ‘If it is on target it will probably flatten the mountains and kill everything within five miles. Then it will make the area uninhabitable for about ten years.’

  ‘Come on; let’s get back on the boat.’ Fisher suggested.

  Danny stood looking towards the mountains.

  ‘What is it Danny?’ asked Eraz.

  ‘Lieutenant, are the detonators or the high explosive on nukes anything like the detonators or explosive used in Claymore Mines or the C4 Dingo used for the wall of the fort?’

  ‘I imagine so.’ Fisher crinkled his forehead. ‘Why?’

  ‘Is there the possibility that the warhead won’t detonate?’

  Fisher considered the possibility.

  ‘Are you suggesting that we carry on?’

  ‘We can get an idea of when the missile should hit and go to ground just before then. If we are close enough and the missile doesn’t explode we could carry on and get there first. The Minoans will be on the move as soon as this stops.’

  Fisher looked at Saraph.

  ‘It’s worth it.’

  Saraph nodded.

  ‘Let us get our weapons together. We are nearly ten miles from Zeus and we have wasted time already.’

  The group quickly gathered their equipment.

  ‘Wallace, you have the option of heading back down river or coming with us.’ Fisher offered.

  Wallace dangled the keys for the Guardian from his finger.

  ‘I’m coming. What about him?’ He indicated Hildar.

  ‘He is the prisoner of Danny. He must decide what to do with him.’ said Saraph reluctantly.

  Danny looked around.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You must decide his fate,’ said Coran.

  Danny stood from where he had been packing a backpack and looked over at Hildar.

  ‘I can’t decide the fate of a man’s life.’ he argued.

  ‘Danny,’ Sophia spoke softly. ‘You saved him from the Minoans. His life belongs to you. It is your responsibility to determine his fate.’

  Danny looked numb.

  ‘I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘We will let you decide. We will wait for you.’ Saraph laid his hand on Danny’s shoulder.

  ‘Dingo, can you do anything with M’Varak?’

  The group’s attention turned to the moaning Minoan as Danny considered his options.

  ‘M’Varak.’ Dingo knelt down in front of the distraught creature and gently took hold of his massive forearms.

  ‘It’s OK mate, the rain won’t kill you. Remember you washed in the river. That didn’t hurt did it?’

  Slowly Dingo pulled M’Varak’s arms away from his large face. The Minoan slowly opened his eyes and looked at Dingo.

  ‘It’s not hurting you. It’s wet and uncomfortable but it won’t kill you. Try standing up.’

  M’Varak blinked several drops of rain from his eyes and started moaning again.

  ‘LT, have we got any forage hats in the kit?’

  Fisher moved over to the remains of the equipment and looked through it. He quickly found a broad brimmed hat and handed it to Dingo.

  ‘Let’s try this M’Varak.’

  Dingo took out his knife and cut the chinstrap. Returning the knife to its scabbard he placed the hat on M’Varak’s broad forehead. The two sides of the chinstrap he looped around his horns and tied.

  ‘How’s that?’

  M’Varak slowly opened his eyes and looked out from under the brim of the hat. He looked fearfully at the rain sheeting down around them and slowly got to his feet.

  ‘Do you think you can move through this now?’ asked Dingo.

  M’Varak grunted an affirmative. Dingo picked up the Minoan’s equipment and handed it to him.

  ‘Let’s get moving.’ The group moved off, selecting one of the narrow tracks that led in a northerly direction.

  Saraph paused by Danny.

  ‘We’ll wait for you over the crest. Whatever you decide will be the right choice. I have every faith in you.’ He laid his hand on Danny’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

  The warrior took one last look around the small clearing before striding away to catch up with the others.

  Danny watched Saraph disappear then turned to look at Hildar. The warrior was still sitting on the ground, his hand pressed to the ugly wound in his side.

  ‘You deserve to die,’ said Danny as he walked up to the captive.

  Hildar said nothing, just looked up in pain.

  ‘I think you’ve lost sight of what you should be. I
think you’ve developed the same pride and arrogance that caused Arcanadia to be removed from the world in the first place. You have the privilege and power to make things better. You’ve let power go to your head. You’ve lost your honour.’

  ‘I have my honour,’ exploded Hildar, attempting to launch himself up.

  A searing pain in his side caused him to drop back down. Fresh blood seeped past his fingers.

  ‘Bollocks!’ spat Danny. ‘You lost your honour when you handed over the Rangers and the survivors of the Boise to Minotaur. They were unarmed and had surrendered.’

  ‘Then you will kill me?’

  Danny looked down at him in disgust.

  ‘I should. But I’m not. As I understand it, if I spare your life you owe me.’

  Hildar nodded slowly.

  ‘Good. Listen carefully. This is what you have to do to get your honour back.’

  Several minutes later Danny walked over the crest and joined the others. The rain was still pounding down, swamping the ground and making the ground treacherous.

  ‘All done,’ he said simply.

  Fisher examined the stony expression on Danny’s face and decided not to ask what he had done. The gravity of the decision would take the young sailor some time to come to grips with and the Ranger would make sure he was there when he wanted to talk.

  ‘OK, let’s move. We should make a couple of miles before the missile hits.’ He took the lead and led the group along the path.

  *

  Zeus’ Canyon 26th May

  The Titan II Missile continued to accelerate as it blasted its way through the rapidly thinning atmosphere. Its integral navigation system had cut in straight away and was using Global Positioning Satellites and star positions to determine its exact location.

  The short hop was well within the seven thousand-mile maximum range. It had not even approached its maximum velocity of eighteen thousand miles per hour when it reached the highest point of its trajectory.

  The flight path levelled out for a few minutes then the nose dropped and the missile started its final attack. Gravity aided the missile and it accelerated, making minor course changes.

  With unerring precision the missile sped directly towards the canyon. Friction caused by the thickening air caused a massive tail of fire to flash across the sky. There was a burst of an explosion as the individual warheads separated and plunged to the ground.

 

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