“Well, that may not be enough firepower to win, but it’s enough to make those bastard barracuda-faced pirate fuckers wish they had picked another area for a stroll.”
The lance corporal smiled as he went into a prone position next to the master chief.
Jenks felt a tug at his pant leg, and he looked back. It was the same little girl who had hiccupped for thirty minutes through her fear. Jenks grimaced and then snatched the child up. He stuck out his tongue and then winked. She was cautious, but she returned a smile that warmed the gruff old master chief’s heart. He thought about losing what was left of the villagers, and he stood with the girl in his arms and then returned her to Charlie, who had been frantically looking for her. Ellenshaw expected a tongue-lashing from Jenks but was relieved when he just handed the girl over. The master chief pulled out a pen that had been given to him by a navy puke a few months before and was one of his possessions he had bragged and showed off to everyone who would listen and admire it. He held it up and then leaned into the girl as he showed her the cheap ink pen he had been given. He turned it up and then down in front of her eyes, and she smiled and clapped her hands, amazed at the magic.
“I don’t believe it. They still make those?” Charlie asked as the girl relaxed as she watched the magic before her eyes.
The pen was one of those you might have purchased years ago at a liquor store checkout counter that depicted a slender, beautiful woman on the pen itself, and every time you turned it over, the black dress she wore would slowly vanish. Turn it back and the dress reappeared. The children watched and laughed at the magic coming from the world of the master chief.
“Yeah, well, just don’t look too closely at the face of the woman in the pen, Doc, or you’ll find me on the short end of the stick that kicks your ass.”
Charlie watched him move back to his defensive position. Then he looked closely at the face of the woman, and then his brows rose. The woman’s face was the exact twin of Assistant Director Virginia Pollock. A mere coincidence, but it was her all right. Jenks, Charlie knew, had it bad.
Ellenshaw smiled for the first time in days. He soon lost the grin when the noise from the front of the mine froze his blood.
“Here they come!”
Once inside the number-three gun turret, Jason stood momentarily confused as to just how he was going to do this without blowing them and the Simbirsk to pieces. Then his eyes fell on the elevator control switches that would allow the silk powder bags to be delivered from the powder stores eight decks beneath him. On the opposite side, he saw the same control system to raise the thousand-pound, fifteen-inch projectile to the turret. Ryan also saw the communications console that would connect him to the projectile and powder bunkers. He hit the switch.
“Hey, is anyone down there?” he asked, hoping beyond hope that the system didn’t send his voice out all over the battle cruiser.
“We’re here, Commander,” said the cockney-tinged voice of the Royal Marine sergeant. “I don’t know what it is we’re supposed to do, but we’re here.”
Jason knew his education at the academy had barely touched on surface warfare to the point where he knew how to fire the main guns that were designed right around the turn of the last century, but he quipped to himself that he had seen plenty of movies on the subject. He just hoped they were accurate. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember his instructions.
“Okay, there is an automatic lift near the powder stores on the starboard side of the armory.”
“Yes, we see it.”
“Now, very carefully go into the vault and, using the elevator, load three bags onto the slide. The switch to raise it up is right next to the aft bulkhead. For God’s sake, be careful — we don’t know how this powder has been treated the past seventy years.”
It seemed like a lifetime until Ryan heard the elevator engage. The noise was tremendous as the automatic doors sprang open, waiting for the delivery.
“Three shells and six bags of black powder, Commander. I don’t know about your end, but we are bloody making a lot of noise down here.”
In the turret, Ryan heard the motors engage, and he flinched again as the machinery made a tremendous amount of noise as the elevator transferred its heavy load. As he watched, the steel-reinforced door slid up, and before he realized what was happening, the large fifteen-inch shell fell forward, and he closed his eyes as he waited for the detonation that would end them all. Instead, the large thousand-pound shell eased into the steel slide just below it. Jason took a deep breath as a pushrod hydraulically pushed the shell into the breach. He repeated the same motions on the number-two and — three guns. The shells were in. Now if he could only get the most dangerous part over with and see if he could send these shells outward in the right direction.
“Bag elevator has stopped and has delivered your load. We’re out of here. We’ll take up station in the aft area and wait for orders. I’m sending two men up to you.”
Jason didn’t answer as he saw the first white-colored powder bag arrive and the auto-loader come into play. He hurriedly moved to the number-one gun of turret three and turned the large stainless steel handle, and he opened the breach. Then he bit his lower lip as he thought about what he had to do next. Then he remembered. He saw another stainless-steel slide and moved it into place. The slide went right to the breach’s opening and stopped. The powder bag was now right in front of the breach. Jason kicked at the steel next to the breach in frustration. Then before he could move and think on it, a large piston came free of the bulkhead and then pushed the first silk bag into the breach. Jason was amazed at the sophistication of the Russian design. He knew they were freaks of nature when it came to fully automated systems, and any time the old Soviets could take it out of the soldiers’ hands in favor of assurance from automation, they did.
Finally, the last bag was pushed into the gun, and Jason closed the breach. He took a deep breath as the hatch came suddenly open. He quickly pulled his nine millimeter from its holster but stopped when he saw the two hands raised in deference to his threat.
“Scared the hell out of me,” Jason said as he shoved the gun back into his shoulder holster.
The two marines came inside and dogged the hatch.
“Now look, even if we pull this off, we’re bound to have company.”
“The sergeant has that aspect covered, Commander. His four men will lie in wait for any visitors.”
Again, Jason took a deep breath and then raised his radio to his lips.
“Ryan to Everett.”
There was no answer to his call. He immediately started thinking the worst. Was he caught going up to the directory tower?
“Ryan to Everett,” he said once more, looking at the Royal Marines.
“Everett,” came the soft return. “Ready down there?”
“Yeah, but where in the hell are we going to point these cap pistols?”