“Thirty seconds is all it takes for a torpedo to cover the short distance to Simbirsk.” He laughed even harder as he straightened up from Henri’s blow to his belly. “If we don’t go back home, none of us will.”
Jack pulled the laughing Salkukoff toward the railing and shook him. Everett joined them after his hurried climb back to the main deck. The Royal Marines were shepherding the remaining commandos into a small group. They only had six of them left, as the rest had been dispatched nicely by Her Majesty’s forces.
“Say good-bye to your friends and the Simbirsk, Colonel Collins, as I prepare to greet my own in that other place we all dream about.”
Jack cursed their luck as he faced the enemy submarine as it readied to end their lives.
Before anyone realized what was happening, a giant water slug broke the surface of the violet seas. The two Harpoon missiles rose three hundred feet into the darkening skies, and then the large weapons rolled over and dove straight down after shedding their outer protective casings. The impact struck the Rostov-on-Don dead center just aft of her sloped conning tower. The large 215-pound warheads of the two UGM-84 Harpoon missiles broke through the heavy steel plate of the submarine and detonated close by the vertical launch tubes with their missiles still inside. Ten other warheads along with the American missiles blew the Rostov-on-Don into two pieces. Water, steel, and other debris shot skyward.
Jack and the others were again thrown from their feet as the amazing rescue of their lives decimated the enemy sub. Salkukoff was shocked to see the Rostov-on-Don disintegrate right before his eyes. Jack hurriedly stood as the wave created by the two halves of the Russian sub struck them. The Simbirsk rolled over, knocking everyone again from their feet. The destruction of Salkukoff’s main asset tossed the seas to the extreme.
In the lower spaces of Simbirsk, something else was reacting to the roll of the giant ship. Europa Jr. was monitoring the phase shift engine to keep it from ramping back up, but as the giant wave of destruction hit Simbirsk, the laptop was thrown from the table and smashed onto the deck. Her lights went out just as the phase shift capacitors began to ramp up. The phase shift engine was once more breathing.
As every man crowded around the railing to see what had just happened, another sight caught their attention. In the middle of the debris-filled spot where the Russian sub had vanished, the ocean shot straight into the air as the seas erupted. The sonar dome of the USS Houston broke the surface and rose into the sky. The black-hulled submarine looked as if it had been shot out of a cannon. She shot up until her weight and gravity brought her back. Houston’s bow slammed back into the sea, and another large wake slammed into the battle cruiser. The attack boat quickly settled into the remains of the Rostov-on-Don. All the world became silent until the eruption of cheers from the Russian sailors and British Marines drowned out the noise of the encroaching storm. Jack looked at Henri and Carl and shook his head.
“I guess we have confirmation on Houston’s whereabouts. It looks like she came along for our little excursion.”
Cheers erupted again as men saw the crew of Houston come into view as they took their stations on the upper conning tower.
Jack smiled as he turned and faced Salkukoff and his look of utter bewilderment.
“Looks like you weren’t the only ones to have a navy out here, huh?”
“I… I… don’t understand.”
“Welcome to the club, asshole; we never understand our luck either, but there you have it,” Carl said as he intentionally slapped Salkukoff on the back as hard as he could, sending the Russian colonel into the top rung of the railing. Then Carl leaned into Jack. “I’ll never, ever curse the submarine service again.”
“I hear that, brother.”
24
Second Captain Dishlakov was the last crewman to be removed from Peter the Great. The amazing thing was the fact that he was escorted off and into a rubber Zodiac by none other than Captain Johnson. As Dishlakov dove feetfirst into the churning sea, it was Johnson who gave him his hand and assisted him into the last boat. The two men faced each other and, having no words to say, just shook hands.
A tremendous explosion inside the sinking Peter the Great sent debris skyward. The great warship finally broke her back, and the stern section twisted to the right and started heading for the bottom of a sea so far from home that most of the survivors could not begin to fathom it.
The Zodiac carrying the last of the Russian crew to depart watched helplessly as the magnificently raked bow of the missile cruiser rose high into the air just as the stern had done, and then slowly start sliding down to her watery grave. Second Captain Dishlakov watched his life vanish before him. Johnson placed a hand on the man’s shoulder as the Zodiac turned and sped away.
As men assisted the survivors aboard the Simbirsk, all attention was now focused on saving USS Shiloh from suffering the same fate as Peter the Great. Her stern was a wreck. The Russian weaponry had managed to punch a hole near her engine spaces, and she was down at the fantail. Her crew was fighting gallantly to save their ship, but from Jack’s perspective, she was fighting a losing battle. Even with damage control crewmen from Houston assisting, Shiloh was going to lose that fight. Collins came to a conclusion that no one was going to like. He turned to Everett.
“Swabby, we can’t take a chance that when we make the attempt to get home, Shiloh won’t break in two during the phase shift. She couldn’t stand the pounding. But you know more about what these cruisers are made up of more than I do. What do you think?”
Carl assisted one of the crewmen from Peter the Great over the railing and then wiped sweat from his brow. He shook his head.
“I say pile everyone on board Simbirsk and Houston and we get the hell out of here.”
Jack concurred. He didn’t look forward to telling Captain Johnson that he was going to have to scuttle his ship. “Get on the horn and inform Captains Dishlakov, Johnson, and Thorne what the plan is.”
Everett nodded and then went to deliver the worst news any commander could ever hear: abandon your efforts to save your ship.
Jack breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Charlie Ellenshaw as he stepped onto the deck of Simbirsk. He watched as Ellenshaw accepted the children saved from the island. Jenks was last to come aboard with the ten marines. He quietly thanked God that none of the landing team was lost. Not that Jenks and Charlie weren’t in trouble anyway, but that would wait for a better time. Jack approached, and Charlie held up a hand before the colonel could speak.
“It was my idea, Colonel.”
“Bullshit, Chuck. It was me,” Jenks countered.
“No, sir, I take full responsibility,” said the lance corporal as he saluted Jack.
Collins only shook his head. He then looked at the six frightened children crowded around Jenks. They were holding his legs as if to keep him from running away. Jack’s anger evaporated as quickly as it came on.
“We’ll discuss this later. Jenks, I need you and Charlie to get below and monitor that phase shift equipment.” He looked around and saw the strange weather pattern that was rapidly developing. The heavy clouds were starting to circle in a most unfamiliar pattern. “And take this ass-hat with you,” he said as he lightly kicked at the man sitting at his feet. Salkukoff said nothing as he was lifted from his feet by two of the American marines. “Chain him up down there, because if anyone survives this thing, I want it to be him. I’m sure his testimony will be rather informative when we get back home.”