CHAPTER 8
AUGUST 7TH –DAY 127
The man studied the crew and passenger list from the Evening Star. Three underlined names glared at him from the pages. A description of their qualifications followed.
“I talked with officials at the World Travel Bureau,” Johnson was saying. “They found the ship at the bottom of the ocean. All the lifeboats were still attached to the ship except four. They found three, and combed the area for eight days looking for the last one.”
“Did you ask them if they checked the island?”
“I was afraid they might put two and two together, so I asked if any survivors could have reached an island in the vicinity. They said the nearest island was almost two hundred miles from the wreck. No one could have made it that far.”
“Hmph, they didn’t know the men who were on the ship. Did they check the islands?”
“I don’t even think it occurred to them. The official got embarrassed when I mentioned the island. Then he put me off. They’ll probably send a team to check it now.”
“I doubt it.” The man picked up the heavy metal file and read three names off the list: “James Klein, Matthew Carlsen, and Ron Jefferson. Do you know them?”
Johnson nodded. He’d done his homework. “All navy men. Jefferson and Carlsen served together on the USS Forrestal in Vietnam. Klein and Carlsen served on the USS Columbus in the Mediterranean.”
“You’re aware that these three can be a serious problem if they’re on that ship?”
“Yes, sir. With the possible except of Ron Jefferson. He hasn’t been right since Viet Nam. He’s neurotic, hasn’t been to sea for twenty years. Even if he did survive, I doubt he’d be a problem.”
“Read his qualifications.” The man threw the file at Johnson. It slid across the desk, and landed on the floor. One of the metal tabs on the file left a long scratch on the top of the desk. Enraged, the man glared at the scratched while Johnson picked up the file. He didn’t wait for Johnson to read it. “Jefferson is an expert machinist. He virtually designed the machinery on that ship. He could probably take the engine room apart and put it back together by himself. And we’ve conveniently supplied him with all the tools he needs.
“He and Carlsen got medals for valor. They didn’t get them for nothing.” He paused while Johnson looked at him in silence. “This Carlsen fellow could be a big problem. He’s worked for some governmental departments, and he’s friends with some powerful people. He’s a qualified line captain. Both he and Klein have the knowledge and the leadership qualities to get a ship like this going. And with Jefferson to help them–” He paused without finishing the sentence. Then he enunciated: “Find that ship, Mr. Johnson.”
“What should we do with it when we find her?”
“First find her.” With a slash of his hand, the man signaled the end of the conversation. “Send in my secretary when you leave.”
“Yes, sir.” Johnson kept his face expressionless as he stood to go. He placed the file carefully on the desk and went out the door.
The man leaned back in his leather chair. If people had survived the sinking of the Evening Star, it didn’t mean that Klein, Carlsen or Jefferson were among them. But, it appeared they’d reached an island a hundred miles away and survived on that island for several weeks. And, they’d known how to start up the Bright Moon and take her out. According to the report, they had backed out of the cove at close to twenty knots right through a narrow opening in the reef.
Klein, Carlsen and Jefferson were capable of something like this. And, he didn’t believe the analysis of Jefferson’s neurotic behavior. Men could rise to the occasion when necessary, neurotic or otherwise. They would know that someone wanted that ship, and they would be busy trying to save their butts. They also had knowledge of the weapons on the ship. That made them dangerous opponents.
His secretary entered. “You wanted me, sir?”
“Rose.” He pointed to the mark on the desk. “See if you can find a good wood worker and get this repaired, would you?”
“Right away, Admiral,” she replied and left as quickly as she had come.
Admiral Williams leaned forward and ran his finger along the mark he’d made on the desk. As he leaned forward, his chair creaked. He closed his eyes and sighed. This was not his day.
AUGUST 8TH –DAY 128
At the next meeting, Matthew gave his report.
“We’re about a week from the coast. Up to this point, we’ve avoided contact with all vessels. But, that will soon be impossible. We’ve got to figure out what to do before we get within a day’s distance from the two-hundred-mile limit.”
“Well,” said Will, “no one’s come lookin’ for the ship yet. Why don’t we just try pullin’ into port like it was nuthin’? Maybe we could get away with it.”
A chorus of voices agreed with Will. They were getting impatient and wanted to get home.
“No,” objected Ron. “I’m not saying that wouldn’t work, but you can believe that someone is looking for us. We might get back without problems, but I don’t think we should take the chance. Once we get inside the two-hundred-mile limit, we’re open game if someone decides we’re dangerous. They’ve already killed four people, and they surely haven’t forgotten us. They just don’t know where we are.”
AUGUST 9TH –DAY 129
“We found the ship,” reported Johnson. “She’s on a westerly course, about two thousand miles from the coast of Africa.”
“It’s about time, Mr. Johnson,” said the Admiral. “What do you intend to do about her?”
“Sir. You told us to find her and report back. That is what I’m doing. What do you want us to do?”
The admiral’s face turned red with rage. “You got us in this mess!”
Johnson had had it with this arrogant prima donna –powerful or not. “This is our mess, Admiral. We followed your orders. You lead this operation, and you’re not dumping this on us.” He waited while the admiral choked back his anger.
“Notify our contacts, Mr. Johnson. Tell them to try to get her back. If they can’t –I’m sure you get the picture.”
“I understand, sir.” Johnson understood only too well. He had four bodies back in the cavern, a definite problem if it became public, and the Admiral wouldn’t take the fall for it.
AUGUST 11TH –DAY 131
“Contact,” reported Marie, “bearing two-zero-nine at six thousand eight hundred yards.”
Shirley plotted the contact and the time, as well as the current position of the Bright Moon on the navigation table. She extended the lines indicating the courses of each ship. “Contact will cross our bow at six thousand yards in approximately fourteen minutes,” she reported.
Jeff had the con. “What’s our present course and speed?”
“Course is two-seven-zero, speed twelve knots,” responded Shirley.
“Status of contact?” he asked a couple of minutes later.
“Contact bearing two-two-one at six thousand yards; course three-zero-five; speed twenty-five knots,” reported Marie.
Shirley plotted the contact and reported. “At present course and speed, contact will pass about six thousand yards in front of us in ten minutes.”
Jeff looked at the plot Shirley had made. The ship was running an angular course with the Bright Moon. If she held her present course, she wouldn’t be a problem. A more northerly course, though, would put her right in their lap.
“Let’s give them a little leeway. Drop our speed to six knots. That should give us at least eight thousand yards’ clearance.”
Two minutes later Marie reported. “Contact bearing two-three-four; range five thousand yards; course three-five-two.”
“Plot it,” commanded Jeff. The other ship had changed to a northerly course.
Marie pressed a button, and triggered the radar console to give her a plot, while Shirley drew a few lines on the grid she was working on.
“Contact will cross our bow at three thousand five hundred yards in three and a half m
inutes,” reported Shirley.
Shocked, Jeff looked at Marie for confirmation. She nodded. “Confirmed.”
“Call Matthew, Shirley. That’s too close.” Jeff said.
“Thirty-five hundred yards is over two miles,” answered Marie. “That’s a long way away.”
“Three and a half minutes is not a long way away. If he changes to a more easterly course, he’ll be right in our laps. Call Matthew.”
Shirley keyed up the public address. “Bridge to Captain.”
“Bridge to Captain. Acknowledge,” she repeated.
Matthew and Ron were in the afterdeck, unpacking one of the rocket launchers that were in the bay. They laid it beside the missiles that went with it after noting its description and serial number.
When Shirley called on the intercom, they were inspecting what looked like the parts of a turret that could be mounted on the bow. Matthew went over to the intercom and pushed a button.
“Matthew, here.” Although they called him Captain, he still was a little embarrassed to acknowledge it.
“We’ve got a very close contact, Captain. It seems to be following us. Jeff thinks you should come up right away.”
“Acknowledged. General Quarters. This is not a drill. Matthew out.” He looked at Ron. “I was hoping we could avoid this… Maybe it’s nothing.” He didn’t believe it, though. GQ sounded, and they ran up the ladder, with Matthew in the lead.
“General Quarters! General Quarters!” boomed the PA. “This is not a drill. General Quarters! General Quarters! This is not a drill.”
Doris, Su Li, Jo Ann, and Steve were on kitchen duty. Doris ran for the bridge. After a worried look toward Jo Ann, Steve ran for the control room. Su Li started for the bridge and remembered that she had kitchen duty this time. Shirley was on duty, already at her post on navigation. “Matthew,” she cried softly.
The first shift scrambled to their posts. There was a hushed atmosphere in the dining room where the rest assembled. Four people with binoculars arrived on the main deck and connected their sound powered phones.
Matthew reached the bridge and went to the navigation table where Shirley had plotted the intersect points. Then he approached the radar station. “Status.” Ron took his place at the engineering console and put on a set of sound powered headphones. Power failures didn’t knock them out. He began to acknowledge incoming reports.
“Roberta, here. Forward watch starboard side.”
“Acknowledged,” replied Ron.
“Our speed is six knots,” reported Marie. “Course two-seven-zero. Contact is bearing two-four-six; course three-five-two; range, four thousand yards; speed twenty-five knots. They’ll cross our bow at three thousand five hundred yards in about a minute and a half.
“Dave, here. Forward watch, port side.”
“Acknowledged,” replied Ron.
“All stop,” commanded Matthew.
Ron cocked his head with a questioning glance at Matthew. “All stop,” he repeated.
“Susan, here. Aft watch, starboard side.”
“Acknowledged,” said Ron
“Will, here. Aft watch, port side.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Steve and Rick, here. Engine room.”
“Acknowledged,” said Ron.
“Su Li, here. Everyone else is accounted for in the dining room.”
“Acknowledged. All people at their posts, Captain, and all are accounted for in the dining room.”
“Acknowledged.” Matthew slid into the captain’s chair. They waited. There wasn’t a sound on the bridge until Matthew spoke again. “Status.”
“Contact bearing two-five-five,” reported Marie. “Course has changed to zero-five-four; range, two thousand five hundred yards. They’ll cross our bow at one thousand five hundred yards.”
Were they being tracked? Matthew thought for a minute. “Come to course three-five-five; speed twenty knots.”
The changes were acknowledged, and they waited once more, holding their breath.
“Status,” Matthew said one more time.
“Contact is bearing two-four-two; course zero-one-eight; range, two thousand eight hundred yards; speed twenty knots.” Marie looked at him. “Intercept course, four hundred yards in front of us in about six and a half minutes.”
That removed all doubts. The ship was definitely following them. “Increase to thirty knots,” he commanded.
“Increase to thirty knots,” acknowledged Ron.
“Do we have visual?”
“I don’t know,” answered Ron.
“Find out,” said Matthew brusquely.
Ron keyed the mike. “What do you see, guys?” He also keyed the earphones into the amplifier so he didn’t have to repeat what was said.
“I got her off the port to our stern,” answered Will. “She looks about a mile away. I can barely make her out.”
`Matthew stood up and went to the rear port window where he could see the ship in the distance. He raised his binoculars, studied her and then went back to his chair. He had trained his people to do the work. This wasn’t the time to second-guess them. He had his own duties to attend to.
“What do you think, Ron? Can we outrun them?”
“Probably. But, we’ll have to run at thirty-five to forty knots all the way to the American coast. I don’t think we can maintain that speed with our training. Right now, they’re between us and the coast. We either gotta go around ‘em, or through ‘em.”
“Suggestions?”
“We could try to hail them,” suggested Doris. “Maybe they don’t mean any harm.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” stated Ron.
“I don’t either,” agreed Matthew. “But it doesn’t hurt to try. Hail them, Doris.”
Doris hailed the ship. “Bright Moon calling unidentified ship. Please respond.” She repeated the transmission, waited a few seconds, and repeated it again. “No response, Captain.”
Matthew nodded. “Looks like diplomacy’s out. I didn’t expect them to be in a talking mood.”
He spent a fleeting thought on Su Li, and wished she was on the bridge instead of Shirley, but he’d made the rule. Besides, Shirley’s husband, Carl, was also here, and that was the reason for the rule. Families were to be together when possible. He forced the thought out of his mind. There were more important things to consider at the moment. He made his decision.
“Come to course two-seven-zero. Speed twenty knots.” Ron and Carl repeated his commands. “If we have to go through them we might as well make them work for it.
“Status,” he commanded after about a minute.
“Contact bearing one-three-five; one thousand five hundred yards; speed thirty knots,” Marie reported. “Contact will cross our bow in one and a half minutes. Collision course.”
Matthew hoped against all hope. “Try hailing again, Doris.”
Doris hit the switch. “This is Bright Moon calling unidentified ship. Please respond.”
The captain of the other ship decided that now was the time. “This is the captain of SS Targa to the captain of the Bright Moon,” he answered in an accented voice. To his crew he said, “Ready the forward gun. Fire across her bow on my orders.”
Doris had already put it on the speaker. Matthew took the mouthpiece she handed him.
“This is Captain Matthew Carlsen of Bright Moon. Request your purpose in following this ship. Over.”
“I believe you know the purpose, Captain,” came the response. “You have one minute to stop all engines. Otherwise you will be fired upon. Over.”
“Captain,” said Matthew, “we are survivors of the Evening Star which sank off the coast of Africa last May. We just want to get home. If you follow us into a port in the United States, we’ll gladly turn the ship over to you.”
“Forty-five seconds, Captain,” the speaker answered Matthew. “Please shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded.”
“What kind of guarantee can you give me for the safety of my p
eople?”
Will called in from the aft watch, “She’s got a gun on the bow, and it looks like it’s manned.”
“Acknowledged,” answered Ron. “She’s armed, Captain.” Matthew acknowledged with a nod.
Tension hung in the air like an ominous cloud. The bridge was so quiet Matthew could almost hear himself breathe. He spoke to the captain of the other ship. “Please give us a little more time, Captain. We have only inexperienced civilians aboard. It will take us a little time to shut down.”
The captain of the SS Targa sat back in his seat. “Twenty seconds, Captain,” he said into the mouthpiece and smiled with contempt. “American civilians. Rich and soft. They never have to sweat for anything. They sit, glued to their TV boxes while the rest of the world struggles to survive.”
The seconds ticked. This was it. They were up against an armed ship and a captain who wouldn’t hesitate to use force. But Matthew couldn’t bring himself to believe they would shoot. They must want the ship intact.
“Fire across their bow,” commanded the captain of the Targa.
The ship’s gun roared. The shell glanced off the upper part of the Bright Moon’s bow. Pieces of the deck flew into the air. The repercussions reverberated throughout the ship’s interior.
In the dining room, Su Li and Jo Ann huddled against the wall and hugged each other. Matthew! Her lips mouthed his name, but no sound came out.
Dave ran to Roberta. “Are you okay?” He grabbed her by the shoulders. She nodded. Had the shell struck a little higher, they might have been killed. “Let’s get the hell out of here!” He pulled her toward the nearest hatch.
The public address system blared. “Take cover below decks. Everyone, get below decks.” Will and Susan ran toward the hatches and headed toward the safety of the dining room.
Ron yelled. “My god! They’re trying to sink us!”
Matthew screamed into the mouthpiece. “Hold your fire! We have women on this ship!”
On the other ship, the captain was also screaming. “I said across her bow! I will personally shoot that gunner if we lose that ship!” He fought down his anger and got his voice under control.
He was wrong. Anger surged through Matthew’s body. “Hard to port! Flank speed.”
Ron jumped back to the console. Carl looked at Matthew in alarm. This would turn them right into the attacking ship.
“Hard to port!” Matthew shouted at him. Carl jumped and turned the helm hard to port.
Matthew pressed the intercom to the control room. “Steve, report to the bridge immediately! Acknowledge.”
“Acknowledged. On my way.”
The captain of the other ship stared, incredulous. “Are they crazy? They are turning right into us! Hard to port,” he yelled. The helmsman swung the helm to port.
“Shall we fire, Captain?” asked his first officer.
“No. We cannot risk damaging the ship if the gunner misses his target again. Those stupid idiots might lose control of the ship, and that would be catastrophic.”
Matthew sat back in the captain’s chair and watched as the attacking ship avoided them, turning away to their starboard.
“Thirty degrees starboard rudder,” he commanded. Carl turned the helm.
“Repeat it!” Matthew barked.
“S’ Starboard rudder thirty degrees,” stammered Carl.
“Quarter speed.”
“Coming to quarter speed,” Ron acknowledged professionally. Matthew waited for the ship to react.
“Rudder amidships.”
Carl, in better control now, acknowledged. “Rudder amidships.”
Too late, the captain of the Targa saw the tactic. “They are trying to get behind us.” By the time, he corrected he would have his stern to the other ship.
His executive officer looked at him in surprise. “I thought they were civilians from a cruise ship! They are either very lucky, or they know how to sail.”
The captain gave him a glaring look. He would have to continue the turn he’d started and complete it into a full circle so his bow would once more face the Bright Moon.
The Bright Moon slowed and fell in behind her attackers.
Steve entered the bridge. “Take the console,” Matthew commanded. Ron immediately vacated the console, and Steve sat in his seat. Matthew turned to Jeff. “Come with me.”
Then, he turned to Ron. “Take the con. Keep us behind that ship. I don’t care what he does; just keep us behind that ship.”
“No!” Ron refused.
Matthew looked at him, aghast that Ron would disobey him when they were under fire. This wasn’t the time to fall apart.
“You’re better qualified for this,” said Ron. “You’re the captain. You command the ship. You stay on the bridge with her. You give the orders and we’ll follow them.”
Matthew realized he was right. “Take Jeff with you. And get that rocket launcher up to the bow. I’ll keep the ship behind him until you get in place. Grab a radio. Let me know when you’re set, and I’ll make sure you get a shot at her.”
“I’m on it. Let’s go, Jeff.” Ron ran out the door to the bridge with Jeff close on his heels.
Matthew returned to the captain’s seat. The captain of the other ship was going to complete a full circle. That would put him on their port side again, or worse, behind the Bright Moon or the USS Washington, whatever she was. Matthew didn’t have time to think about that now.
“Hard astern on port engine! Left full rudder! Full thrust to starboard on forward thrusters!” The commands were repeated back.
The hard drilling was paying off. The Bright Moon vibrated with the strain, but this is what she had been designed for –maneuverability and rapid acceleration. She swung almost sideways around to port, listing hard to starboard, and followed the aft end of the Targa. Matthew wondered if they could capsize her.
Ron and Jeff ran, supporting themselves against the bulkheads of the ship. “Where’d he learn to drive?” shouted Ron as he banged against the railing.
The tables in the dining room were anchored, but dishes and silverware crashed to the floor, and slid toward the frightened people huddled against the wall. “Look out,” someone shouted. Some gasped, but most remained silent. They’d been through this once before on the Evening Star and had survived it then, hadn’t they?
Ron and Jeff made it to the bay. Ron pointed out the launcher and one of the rockets. “Take those!” he instructed and picked up other missiles.
“Ahead, quarter speed,” Matthew commanded. “Shut down thrusters.” The attacking ship was about three-quarters through her turn and the Bright Moon was picking up speed, again aimed at her stern. She went past the stern of the enemy ship, well behind her.
The captain of the Targa helplessly watched as the Bright Moon sailed behind him.
“They are getting behind us, sir,” reported the first officer.
“I see it,” he growled. How had they done that? The captain of the Bright Moon had to be an experienced captain, and his crew knew how to maneuver the ship. He couldn’t let them get behind him again.
Two men were running on the bow of the Bright Moon carrying something. He knew what was in the after bay. If they knew how to maneuver the ship this well, they knew how to use the weapons.
He had underestimated them and was in a precarious situation, difficult even if his adversary had no experience. He wondered if he should wait and continue his turn, but he couldn’t allow them to put a rocket right up his tail.
Ron and Jeff stumbled up the stairwell onto the deck, and ran toward the bow of the ship. They set up the rocket launcher.
On the bridge, Matthew wondered what he would do if he was the captain of the Targa. If the captain turned to starboard, the Bright Moon would be behind him. If he was patient, and continued his present maneuver, the Bright Moon’s momentum would carry her past his ship, and the Targa would be behind the Bright Moon.
Matthew waited until they were even with the stern of the Targa. The Bright Moon’s
maneuvering capabilities were better than the Targa’s, but he had to wait until her captain committed himself. Once the Bright Moon started her turn, her momentum would carry her. But, the other ship suffered from the same disadvantage.
Fortunately, her captain wasn’t a patient man. “Hard to starboard!” he yelled. Matthew saw the ship begin its turn to starboard. He grinned. Gotcha!
“Hard to port! Full rudder! All back on port engine!” he ordered. He waited for Steve and Carl to acknowledge. “Full thrust to port on forward thrusters. Full aft thrusters to starboard.”
The Bright Moon pivoted on her axis and hung on to the Targa’s stern. Matthew waited until they were three-quarters into the turn.
“Shut down thrusters. All ahead flank speed.” The Bright Moon accelerated immediately and fell in behind the Targa, and overtook her.
Ron finally radioed. “Ron to bridge. We’re ready any time you are.”
“It’s about time! You guys having a picnic out there?”
Ron yelled into the radio. “You just tell me how you want your steak delivered.”
“Just below the water line, at the rudder. I’ll get back to you.”
“Roger.”
The attacking ship was still turning toward the starboard. The Bright Moon was less than one hundred yards behind it. Regardless of what the captain of the Targa did, they had him.
“Ten degrees right rudder,” Matthew ordered.
“Rudder at ten degrees,” acknowledged Carl.
The Bright Moon overtook the other ship.
“Hard to port,” yelled the captain of the Targa, but it was too late. The Bright Moon caught up with him on his starboard side.
“Rudder amidships,” said Matthew calmly.
“Get those men!” screamed the captain of the Targa. Several of the crew ran up to the deck with rifles.
Matthew looked out the forward port window. “Steady as she goes. Match his speed.” When the bow of the Bright Moon was aligned with the stern of the Targa, he spoke into the radio. “Any time you’re ready, Ron.”
“One steak, comin’ up!” Ron acknowledged. “Try not to capsize us before we deliver it.”
“Roger.” Matthew smiled despite the tension.
Ron took his time. “Signal when we’re at the bottom of a wave,” he said to Jeff.
Matthew saw the puff of smoke on the launcher and then the explosion on the stern of the other ship. It was high, above the water, and did about the same damage as the shot to the bow of the Bright Moon.
“Damn!” said Matthew.
“Damn!” said Ron.
The men of the Targa were on the deck and firing. The rolling waves and the distance between the two ships impaired their accuracy. Ron and Jeff ducked behind what was left of the forward turret mount. The popping sound of rifles could be heard from the bridge.
“Steady!” Matthew commanded when Marie and Doris gasped. “Watch your post!”
Ron and Jeff set up the rocket launcher again. Ron aimed it at the ship. “One more time,” he said to Jeff. “She starts up from the wave too quick. We have to try on the crest of the wave. Tell me just before we crest. He’s turning to the port. If we don’t get him this time, we’ll have to wait until Matthew gets us back into position.”
The captain of the other vessel wasn’t stupid. He just hadn’t been prepared to go up against an experienced captain. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
Ron took aim. “Now!” shouted Jeff.
Once more, smoke spewed from the launcher. The explosion occurred under the water line right where the rudder should have been. The ship started to veer off to port. Ron shook his fist in the air.
“Got ‘em!” came the shout over the radio. The crew on the bridge began to cheer.
“Hold it down!” Matthew took the radio. “Reload, Ron. Let’s not take any chances.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Give me the phone, Doris,” Matthew commanded. He was sweating profusely.
“This is the captain of the Bright Moon,” he said into the mouthpiece. “That shot was at your rudder. The next will be at the screws, and the next after that will be at the hull. You can break off now, or suffer the consequences. I don’t want to sink you, but I will if I have to.”
The captain on the Targa didn’t have any other choice. Although he could steer the ship with the screws, he was an easy target.
“This is the Targa. What are your terms, Captain?”
“Get your men off the decks, and button up that forward turret.”
“Acknowledged.” The captain ordered it. Men ceased firing and left the deck while others buttoned up the turret. When they left the bow, the captain radioed back.
“We have done as you have requested.”
“What is your status?” requested Matthew.
“We have lost rudder control. But we are able to maneuver the ship with the screws.”
“Good. Maneuver your ass out of here. Bright Moon out.” He waited until the other ship receded a few hundred yards. “Helm, change course away from that ship. Increase speed to fifteen knots,”
“Aye, Captain,” acknowledged Carl and Steve. Matthew was sure the captain wouldn’t try anything without decent maneuverability, but it was best not to take any chances. He smiled inwardly. Ron was wearing off on him.
When the ship was a thousand yards from them, he radioed to Ron. “Okay, guys. Picnic’s over. Pack it up.”
“Thanks,” Ron’s voice came back. “It’s starting to rain.” Matthew grinned and shook his head.
“Shirley. Plot a course home.”
“Yes, sir, Captain.” She gave him a bright smile.
“Stand down from General Quarters” he said into the PA system. “Emergency is over. Shift two, please report to the bridge. I hope we have some food and coffee ready.”
He shut off the PA and looked at his friends. “Way to go, people. You did good.”
“All right!” shouted Carl, and everyone began to cheer.
Robert, Nancy, Will, Susan, John, and Helen reported to relieve the bridge. Matthew stayed back with them for a few minutes to brief them.
Marie and Doris ran to their husbands.
“Hold present course and speed,” Matthew told them. “Shirley has plotted a course home. When that ship is out of long radar range, lay in a course for home and set speed to twelve knots. We’ll need a full crew on the bridge at least for a while. I’m sorry you don’t get a break after all the excitement. I wish we could put the ship on autopilot, but I don’t trust that guy. He might be stupid enough to come back.”
They didn’t mind. They would have preferred to be where the action was. At least they would have known what was going on. When Matthew left the bridge, a very nervous Carl was waiting. Matthew suspected the reason, but waited for Carl to say it.
“I blew it up there,” he said, dejected.
“No you didn’t, Carl. You did a good job.”
“I froze. You had to scream at me to get me to move.”
“I wouldn’t say that hesitating for a few seconds is freezing. Everybody hesitates at one time or another. You got yourself together and did your job. That’s what counts. You’re a good helmsman, Carl. One of the best I’ve ever seen –even in this short time. You’re a natural.”
Carl brightened. “You really think so?”
“No doubt in my mind.”
“Thanks, Ma – Captain.” Carl smiled like a small boy and ran down to the dining room. By the time Matthew got to the dining room, he and the bridge crew were heroes.
Su Li met him, at the door and he took her into his arms. “Oh, Matthew. I was so frightened for you.”
“I was worried about you, too.” He squeezed her. “Where’s my coffee?” He was frowning, but she saw the teasing glint in his eyes.
AUGUST 12TH –DAY 132
Once again, Johnson stood in front of the admiral. Unfortunately, Admiral Williams had his own information net and had already received the bad news.
r /> “It appears that our Captain Matthew Carlsen is the captain of the ship. That presents a problem.”
Johnson was aghast. “How could he defeat a warship with a crew of civilians?”
“I told you he was resourceful. He’s sitting about fifteen hundred miles off the coast of the US. I wonder why he doesn’t just bring the ship into port.”
“Probably waiting for a ship to escort them into the harbor, sir.”
“I would have thought they would be very impatient to get home after all this time.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to take any chances. He knows that someone is after him. He’s not going to come into port without some kind of protection.”
“I wonder if he’ll get rid of the weapons before he gets the ship into port.”
“I doubt it, sir. He needed them against the Targa. He might feel he needs them against others.”
“I hope he does use them. It’ll be very helpful in convincing others as to his intentions. Or maybe he thinks they’ll give him some kind of dealing power.”
“Well, they do, don’t they? He brings back a stolen American naval vessel, filled with classified weaponry and turns it over to the United States government. That makes him a hero.”
“You forget, Mr. Johnson. He is a terrorist, and the United States of America doesn’t tolerate terrorists. He is one small man against several powerful organizations. Your job is finished. We will take care of it from here.”
Johnson got up to go.
AUGUST 13TH –DAY 133
The ship was set on autopilot so all could attend the meeting.
Will took the center of the floor. “Can I have y’all’s attention please. Matthew Carlsen, Ron Jefferson, Jeff Slater, step forward.”
The named men came forward and stood beside one another with puzzled amusement. They didn’t know what was going on, but they could see by the smiles on everyone’s faces that they were they only ones who didn’t.
Will faced them. “Ten-hut!” Everybody tittered. Jeff stood at attention, and Ron smiled and tried. Matthew laughed outright.
Will stepped in front of him. “I gave you an order, boy.” Matthew stood at attention.
Will strutted back and forth, and slapped the side of his leg with a makeshift riding crop. He stopped in front of Ron and looked him up and down, stopping at his shoes.
“Them shoes could use some spit-shine, son.” Ron did his best not to laugh. Will stopped in front of Jeff and shook his head. “You look like you ain’t seen no military before. Well, I have to do my duty regardless.”
He stepped back and faced them. “In recognition of performance beyond the call of duty, y’all are hereby awarded the highest award this ship can give.”
Will nodded toward Nancy and she extended the plate she held. Will reached out and took something from it and held it up for all to see. “The Bright Moon Medal of Honor.”
A yellow moon, rimmed in red, almost an inch in diameter, hung from a red ribbon. It was made from a thin, painted piece of metal. In its center, at a forty-five-degree angle, was a black silhouette of a military ship. Underneath the ship, etched into the red circle were the words ‘BRIGHT MOON’.
Taking it in both hands, he placed it over Matthew’s head. “Congratulations, son,” he said to Matthew.
He took the next and did likewise to Ron. Jeff received the last one.
Will stepped back and saluted with his ‘whip’. “Y’all are dismissed.” With an exaggerated flair of his hand, he presented them to the crowd. They all whistled and stomped their feet.
“Speech! Speech!” Somebody yelled, and they quieted.
Matthew, touched, looked at them all. Ron and Jeff looked at him to take the lead.
“I can’t,” he choked, and they clapped, laughing uproariously at his awkwardness.
Will wasn’t finished yet. He quieted the group. “There was others on the bridge.” He picked up the last medal on the plate. It was a half-moon, which also hung from a red ribbon.
“We ain’t done yet, but we got a medal for y’all, as well. Compliments of the maintenance crew, Robert, Roberta, and Jessica, but we all was involved.”
After the ceremony, Matthew and Su Li took a walk.
In addition to sewing ribbons for the medals, Roberta had been busy helping the women tailor the uniforms. Su Li’s khaki uniform had been first. Her uniform sported small, feminine captain’s bars on her shoulders, made from yellow cloth that Roberta had found. It looked great, but then, Su Li looked good in anything.
Su Li looped her arm through Matthew’s and gave him a beaming smile. “How do you feel?”
“I feel great. They’re a good crew. We were out gunned and out classed. But; everyone did what they were supposed to, and we got out of it. I’m not babysitting a bunch of survivors any more. I’m leading a group of people experienced in the ways of survival. I’d match them up against anyone.”
He felt exhilarated. “You wouldn’t believe how much weight that takes off my shoulders. I still feel responsible for them, but that’s no different than any captain feels for his crew and ship. It’s good, being on the bridge with people you know you can trust.”
“It must be. But, we must make some changes. I did not like being stuck in the dining room, not knowing what was happening to you.”
“I doubt that will happen again.”
“We must change our General Quarters assignments. I will not be stuck in the dining room again when you are in danger on the bridge.”
“That just happened. It could have been Shirley who was on the kitchen detail. Then you would have been on the bridge, and she would have been in the dining room, and worrying about Carl. What’s fair for one is fair for the others. We have to leave it the way it is.”
“No! You are required to be on the bridge during all General Quarters. I will not stay in the dining hall in an emergency when you are on the bridge.”
He wanted to argue, but she cut him off. “It is finished, Matthew. I will bring this up at our next meeting.”
Surprised, he stopped and stared at her. Usually, when Su Li disagreed with him, she’d influenced him by making suggestions or asking questions. He had changed his mind several times because of her wisdom and quiet, respectful approach. Now, he could see that there would be no moving her. She would bring it up at their next meeting, and he wouldn’t be able to talk her out of it.
“Uh, Okay.”
She looked at him for a moment longer. Then she turned, and they continued their walk.
“So the lioness has teeth,” he teased.
“Only when the lion forgets,” she teased back with that half smile he’d grown to love. She would never allow him to bulldoze her. He nodded, pleased that she would not be subservient.