“Rough Rider, this is Ghost Lead, over.”
“Go, Ghost Lead, over,” answered the CIC.
“We see survivors taking to the open decks, over.”
Will Mendenhall closed his eyes, hoping that Jack, Carl, Jenks, Charlie, and even Farbeaux were among those survivors.
“Go ahead, son, and grab some flight gear and catch one of the medical choppers. Army officers give me hay fever anyway.”
Will smiled and then saluted the Dutch admiral and left the bridge just as the general quarters alarm started flaring to life.
The USS Nimitz turned into the wind, and F-18 fighters and Seahawk helicopters started lifting free of her expansive deck.
The search had suddenly turned into rescue operations, and every man aboard was grateful for that.
Over twenty miles away to the south, fifteen Russian warships turned toward the rescue site as well.
The real confrontation was about to start.
Mendenhall was amazed at the scene. Circling helicopters from Nimitz and the missile cruiser USS Ticonderoga were busy dropping men and firefighting equipment onto the decks of both Houston and Shiloh. Will saw that none of the assets were headed for the old Russian cruiser, which was currently listing at least ten degrees to her port side.
As the Seahawk circled, he examined the damage to Shiloh and figured that she would never face the open sea again. Her stern was completely gone up to the aft missile battery. She was aflame, and before a search for any survivors could begin, they had to take control of her fires.
Finally, they saw the first of Shiloh’s seamen emerge from belowdecks. Will stopped counting when he reached a hundred. He whistled and then heard the copilot exclaim that they had movement on Houston. Mendenhall saw who he assumed to be Houston’s Captain Thorne in the high conning tower gesturing that their damage control efforts should be concentrated on Shiloh’s condition.
Mendenhall spoke into the mic on his helmet. “No radio communication?”
The copilot turned in his seat and just shook his head.
“The Simbirsk, set me down there.”
“No can do, sir — no place to land this thing. We would have to winch you down. Besides, we have orders to stay clear of the Russian vessel by NATO command.”
“Damn it, I need to get down there!” Will said as he came close to losing his patience with cautionary orders from NATO brass. He knew if his friends survived, they would have been right in the thick of it. “Look, get me closer for a look-see.”
Mendenhall couldn’t believe what it was he was contemplating.
The Seahawk swung low over the water and approached Simbirsk from the stern. It hovered momentarily as the pilot examined the fantail for a safe landing zone for later. Will saw his opportunity. He unsnapped his harness, and then, tossing the helmet aside, he pushed his way past the naval crew chief.
“Captain, what in the hell are you—”
That was as far as the crew chief got as Will went through the open doorway and fell feetfirst into the choppy sea. With the weather clearing, he knew he stood at least a fifty-fifty chance of surviving.
“What in the hell?” the pilot said as he felt the sudden shift of weight to his bird.
“I can’t believe it; that army captain just jumped overboard.”
The pilot veered the Seahawk away from Simbirsk and rose back into the sky to see if they could get eyes on Mendenhall.
“Damn army’s full of nuts these days!” the pilot growled.
Mendenhall found the gangway. It looked as if it had just been laid down for him. He slowly brought himself out of the water and climbed. Remembering the photo from the Eldridge file, he removed his nine millimeter from his shoulder holster as he took the steps two at a time.
Will had just made it to the main deck when he saw the blood. It looked as if a major action had taken place not long before, and as he realized this, his heart began to sink. The sun broke free of the cloud cover as the skies rapidly cleared of rain and wind.
Mendenhall almost screamed when a bullhorn sounded from somewhere up above him.
“Who gave you permission to board this ship, mister?”
“Ah!” he said as his eyes went high.
Everett smiled from on high as he was joined by the colonel and Ryan.
“A little late for the prom, aren’t you?” Ryan yelled down.
Mendenhall was very tempted to raise the nine millimeter and point it at Jason, but he smiled instead and then holstered his weapon. He closed his eyes in silent thanks for getting his friends back home again.
“If you guys are done yachting, can we go home now?”
Four hours later, the rescue was complete. Admiral Andersson had ordered Shiloh to be taken in tow, and she was mated with her sister Aegis missile cruiser, Ticonderoga, and was already sliding lazily through the sea alongside Nimitz.
With the assistance of the engineering departments of both Ticonderoga and Nimitz, Houston was able to restore power to her planes and her defensive systems. She couldn’t dive, but that didn’t faze the crew one bit; they were ready to head for Norfolk and home. She was pacing the battle group as they turned south with the Simbirsk in tow by the naval support ship, USS Hannaford. The submarine was under guard with the German destroyer Lutjens and the Dutch frigate Vulcan riding shotgun until she could see her home port once more.
The officers of all combat vessels involved in the incident were safely transported to Nimitz. Jack, Carl, Jason, a bruised Henri Farbeaux, and Charlie Ellenshaw joined by Captain Johnson, Second Captain Dishlakov, and Captain Thorne sat tiredly inside a closed-off section of the hangar deck. A manacled Salkukoff sat in a chair in a far corner, having his broken wrist looked after by a navy corpsman. His remaining men were ensconced in Nimitz’s rather barren brig, guarded by angry marines.
Coffee and sandwiches were passed around much to the relief of the extremely hungry men.
“Where is Jenks?” Jack asked as he took a heavenly bite of a chicken sandwich.
Charlie, looking haggard and less enthusiastic about joining field teams ever again, sipped coffee and looked at Jack.
“The children wouldn’t let him go. He is with them right now in sick bay. He said he would join us as soon as he can.” Charlie again took a sip of coffee and then looked back at the colonel. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I would think that the master chief actually found something he doesn’t despise outside of Virginia.” He smiled. “It’s kind of creepy seeing him with those kids — it’s like he respects them or something.”
Collins smiled and patted Ellenshaw on the back.
“Don’t worry, Doc. I’m sure he’ll be back to his old self once we get home, all miserable and grumpy again.”
“Yeah,” Charlie said, perking up at the prospect of Jenks becoming nonhuman once again.
“Attention!” one of the marine guards called out.
All but Charlie stood as Admiral Andersson and Captain McAvoy entered the sealed hangar deck.
“At ease, gentlemen, at ease,” Andersson said as he went from man to man with the captain of Nimitz and shook each man’s hand.