The group of soldiers spread out, sitting in the empty hangar and treating their wounded. One of her younger petty officers ran to go get the ship’s corpsmen and more medical supplies.
Victoria said, “Chief, we need fuel now. We need to go back up. 476 just ditched.” She tried to say it as calmly as possible.
“They ditched? Holy shit.” He turned and said, “AD1, go get the fuelies now! Get 471 refueled.” He looked back at Victoria. “Ma’am, it might be hard to get all the ship guys, but we’ll take care of it.”
“Why can’t you get the ship guys?”
“Some of them are still doing damage control. They had a fire around the bridge.”
“I saw that. Was anyone hurt?”
He didn’t answer. “Ma’am, the CMC needs to talk to you. He asked to speak with you immediately when you land.”
“If the master chief needs to talk to me, he can come here. I need to take off again. We need to go…”
Then she saw her brother. He was talking to the same soldier who had been in her helicopter asking about corpsmen.
She tried not to run. A quick walk. They made eye contact and then Chase stood and gave his sister a hug.
She stepped away, nodding, fighting back tears and smiles. “Glad you’re okay.”
Chase grinned. “Glad you came in time.”
“Are you going to tell me what this was all about?”
“I need to, yes. And I need to speak to your ship captain.” He held up a backpack. “We need to get this to Panama as soon as possible. Within the next few days, or it becomes useless. It’s extremely important, Victoria.”
She looked at the bag and then back at her brother. “Alright. I’ll—”
“Airboss.” The ship’s command master chief hurried into the hangar. “A word please, ma’am.”
She looked at her brother and said, “Can you give me a few minutes?”
He nodded.
Victoria and the master chief walked to the corner of the hangar, out of earshot of the others. Enlisted men and women hurried in and out of the hangar, providing aid to the wounded.
Victoria said, “What happened?”
“About an hour ago, we got hit by an anti-ship missile. It struck the bridge and a few spaces forward of the bridge.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
He had a funny look in his eye. “Ma’am, it is my duty to tell you that you are now the senior line officer on board. The captain and XO were both killed in the attack.”
She shook her head. “What?”
“The captain and XO were killed. I checked the lineal numbers. You are now the senior line officer on board. Per Navy regulations, you are now in command of the ship. Ma’am, I suggest you appoint one of your junior pilots to handle any immediate concerns here and follow me to the combat information center, where we can get you up to speed.”
Victoria couldn’t speak.
Several hours ago, her biggest problem of the day had been hauling cargo beneath her helicopter from the supply ship to her own.
Then a simple radio call had changed everything. She had flown her helicopter into a jungle combat situation, rescued a group of what she presumed were Special Forces, and flown back to find out that her ship and the ships in company had been attacked.
Now she was being thrown into command of a surface ship. She was a helicopter pilot. She wasn’t even high-ranking enough to be a commanding officer in her own community.
“Master Chief, are you sure? I mean, am I really the one who—”
The CMC didn’t give her time to contemplate it any further.
“Ma’am, respectfully… we’re in the middle of an emergency. I assure you that I am doing this by the book. Now I need you to come with me.”
She had let her guard down when they’d landed. In the air, she had automatically compartmentalized. She’d blocked out any thoughts that might distract her from making good decisions and completing the mission. She realized she would need to treat this situation the same. She could think about it later. Right now, she needed to take charge.
“Yes, of course,” she said.
Aviate. Navigate. Communicate. The mantra of all pilots. While it took a literal meaning in the air, it applied to everything in life as a metaphor. She needed to prioritize. There were several vital things she needed to accomplish in short order. And she didn’t need to be the one to do them all herself.
She looked up and saw her rescue swimmer. “AWR1, go hold the controls for LTJG Volonte and tell him I need to speak with him immediately. Send him to Combat. That’s where I’ll be.”
The rescue swimmer looked at her like she was crazy. He would normally never sit in the pilot’s seat, let alone as the only person at the controls of a spinning helicopter. Despite the fact that it was tied down, it was still highly irregular. “Yes, ma’am.”
She called to her brother, “Chase, I’ll be right back.” She left him with a confused look on his face.
“Let’s go, Master Chief. Bring me to Combat.”
Everyone in Combat was wearing their general quarters gear. White fireproof cloth over their heads. Gloves. Sleeves rolled up. Victoria took in their faces. They each looked drained and shell-shocked.
The command master chief began, “OPS, I’ve informed Air Boss of her new… status.”
Victoria realized that she had just been part of the most informal change of command she’d ever witnessed. OPS had been the senior officer on the ship until she had landed. He had been in command. Now she was.
He nodded at her. “Welcome back, boss.” He looked like hell.
“Can you bring me up to speed?”
“The fires are out, and there is no more flooding. But we lost fourteen personnel, including the captain and the XO. Another ten are injured. We suffered a steering casualty when the bridge got hit. Had some trouble transferring control to Engineering. That’s been resolved.”
She looked up at the displays. They were traveling at twenty-eight knots. “Why the speed?”
“At first, it was because the captain gave the all head flank order. And then we had the steering casualty, so keeping this course and speed was our best method of evasive maneuvering.”
“And now? Why are you still going this course and speed?”
OPS didn’t like the question. “Because a fucking submarine just sank all the ships that were next to us and hit us with a missile. And I’m trying to make sure it doesn’t finish us off.”
She didn’t like the attitude but understood the stress that he was under. That they all were under. She took a deep breath. “Okay. What are your intentions?”
“I’m getting as much distance as I can between us and the location of the attack. I’ve put out distress calls, but satcom is still down and we haven’t reached anyone on any other channels. I intend to keep us from getting sunk. We’re headed west right now, but I’ll turn us north and slow us down soon. We’ll listen and try to get a fix on the sub—”
“What do you know about it? Did you have any warning?”
OPS turned to the sonar station. Three sonar technicians were looking at their displays. Two wore headsets covering one ear while they talked. “They can give you a better idea of what they heard. But it happened quickly. We had about two minutes’ notice. They picked something up. Transient sounds — torpedoes. We think they sank the Colombian diesel boat first. Then the next thing we knew, we were being attacked. Damage control parties were running around the ship, the lights went out for a bit, and all hell broke loose. Look, I don’t need to be judged, alright? I did what I thought was right and got us out of there. As far as I know, none of those other ships made it—”
Victoria said, “We flew overhead. They have people in the water in lifeboats. We’ll commence rescue operations once the helicopter gets refueled. And I’m not judging you. I just want to know what happened and then we’ll decide what to do next.”