Ark Royal shuddered violently. “That was a kamikaze,” Captain Rama snapped. “Bastard struck the side of the hull.”
“They’re concentrating on the carriers,” Bluebottle said grimly.
“Order the frigates to begin rapid-fire of Tomahawks,” Turtledove said grimly. “We have to finish this quickly” – another ship exploded – “before we end up wishing we’d lost instead of won.”
The Type-45 destroyers hadn’t been originally intended to take on an anti-ship role, but experience had shown the Royal Navy that they couldn’t count on receiving the new carriers in time for the next war – as indeed they hadn’t. Daring and Dauntless, armed with Harpoon missiles, constituted a sizeable portion of the task force’s striking power.
“I see no need to waste missiles, not with those big battlewagons closing in on us,” Captain McTavish of the Daring said. “Designate one missile for each carrier; three from us and three from the losers.”
There were a few chuckles; the Daring’s crew had an ongoing football game with the Dauntless’s crew, and they’d won the last two matches. “Missiles locked, sir,” the weapons officer said. “We can fire upon your command.”
Captain McTavish paused to savour the moment. “Fire,” he said. A streak of fire blasted away from Daring’s deck, followed by two more. Behind them, Dauntless launched its own missiles. Flight time would be measured in seconds.
The missiles had been programmed to execute a dive-bomb attack pattern and fitted with warheads designed to blow open bunkers. Travelling at supersonic speeds, they were high over the Japanese ships before the warning could even be passed by the handful of remaining aircraft, many of whom were launching last-ditch attacks or retreating.
Akagi was struck in the centre of her unusual flight deck. Ironically, the missile slammed right through the ship and detonated just under the vessel, but it made no difference. The explosion tore a massive rent in the hull of the carrier, ripping it apart. She was the luckiest ship – some of her crew survived – the other carriers died within seconds as their warheads detonated inside the hulls, igniting their stores of aircraft fuel, and blowing them out of the water.
Blood streaming from a wound to the head, Admiral Ozawa gave the order to abandon ship. Saluting the flag, he prepared to go down with his ship as she sank under the waves. There was no hope of salvaging the ship; that was clear from the damage to the flight deck. Admiral Ozawa murmured a prayer as the waters closed over his head, and died.
Admiral Turtledove took a breath as the final Japanese aircraft died. For the moment, the fleet was in clear waters; the recording of the final moments of the Japanese carriers was playing on the screen.
“Report,” he said finally. “Captain?”
“We took a kamikaze to the prow,” Captain Rama said. “I think it was a Zero; no bomb detonated. Nothing a few days of repairs can’t cure.”
“And the fleet?” Turtledove asked, turning to Bluebottle.
“We lost seven ships; three destroyers and four freighters,” Bluebottle said. “Fourteen Harriers have been lost; two beacons have been activated and SAR helicopters are on their way. Twelve more ships, including Ark Royal and Ocean, have been damaged; Ocean cannot recover aircraft.” He winced. “Fortunately, we can land them on the freighters or Ark Royal.”
He smiled wanly. “On the other hand, we sunk six carriers, three submarines, and wiped out the cream of the Japanese carrier air force,” he continued. “A victory by anyone’s standards.”
“Let’s hope the Japanese agree,” Turtledove said. “Where are their battlewagons?”
Bluebottle glanced at the display. “Uh-oh,” he said. Turtledove lifted an eyebrow. “They’re not giving up,” Bluebottle said. “They’re still coming; around ten minutes until they get into gun range.”
Turtledove winced again. “Order the Lynx Helicopters to attack, with anti-shipping missiles,” he said. The Lynx helicopters had been ordered to orbit outside the Japanese range. “Then order Daring and Dauntless to take out the lead battleship; perhaps the others will get the message.”
He looked down at the fleet display, building up a picture of the damage to his fleet. “And perhaps we ought to get moving,” he said. “Order the submarines to attack as well; we need time and space.”
The mood on the bridge was sombre. “Aye, aye, sir,” Captain Rama said.
Admiral Takeo Kurita felt fear gnawing at his insides, even as he ordered the six battleships to move forward faster and faster. He hadn’t expected the command – not after being blamed for losing the war the first time around – and he had a sneaking suspicion that the High Command regarded him as expendable. The six battleships, Haruna, Hiei, Kirishima, Kongo, Hyuga and Ise, were all older designs, not fit to engage aircraft carriers.
Admiral Ozawa was in command, Yamamoto had told him, but Admiral Ozawa was dead. The miracle weapons had screamed over the decks of his battleships, heading for the carriers, and before he could transmit a warning they struck. The ships that had escorted Admiral Ozawa were trying to rescue the crews, but it seemed that three complements had been wiped out in seconds. Although he would never admit it, Kurita was scared.
“Incoming aircraft,” an officer said. Kurita looked up to see the strange… helicopters swooping down on the battleline, launching missiles and aiming at the hull. He winced as the missiles slammed into the side of the ship, and then he opened his eyes, realising that he’d expected death.
“They didn’t penetrate the main hull,” Captain Harkada said in sudden delight. Kurita allowed himself a smile. The helicopters fired again, targeting the superstructure of Hyuga, which started to burn. “Hyuga’s been hit, Admiral.”
“The bridge is still intact,” Lieutenant Makako said. “Admiral, they can’t hurt us!”
Under other circumstances, Kurita would have disciplined the young officer, perhaps even beheaded him with his ceremonial sword. “It seems not, no,” he said. “How long until we enter firing range?”
“Two minutes, Admiral,” Lieutenant Makako said.
“Commence firing as soon as we enter firing range,” Kurita said. “We have the lives of our comrades to avenge.”
The superstructure of the Japanese ship burnt, but it refused to slow. A series of explosions tore one battleship apart as Trafalgar made its presence known, but the others refused to run. Instead, they were closing in on the British fleet.
“They’re firing,” Captain Rama said. “Their shells are large enough for the close-in systems to engage.” Explosions began to sparkle in the air; water billowed up near the fleet. “They’re firing at extreme range without any radar.”
“I can program the firing computers only to engage shells that will come too close to our ships,” Lieutenant Payton said. Her fingers danced over the keyboard. “Done, I think.”
“You’re about to be promoted or killed,” Turtledove said. Another Japanese battleship seemed to slow, spinning in circles. “What happened to that one?”