David Golemon - Ancients

"It was sent to me, but I was directed to give it to my captain, so good luck getting to it, asshole," the tough American lieutenant had said through his toothless and bloody mouth, and the words had mocked the German to no end, "because it's in the captain's safe."

The small man angrily looked at his watch. It was close to four thirty in the morning; the date was now December 7, 1941. As he looked up at the large ship with her graceful lines, he knew he had a difficult job ahead of him in order to recover the plate map, which described the hiding place of the control Key to the weapon.

He had to find a way to board that ship and get what was in the captain's safe. He watched the drunken sailors laughing and talking loudly that Sunday morning, their voices bouncing lazily along the quiet harbor over the one-mile distance.

As he watched the sailors, he hit on a plan to board the USS Arizona . The sun had been up for two hours, and it took the three men every bit of those frustrating hours to secure a uniform with the correct rank. The German-born ex-commando Krueger was wearing the uniform of a lieutenant and had successfully boarded a whaleboat that was making its rounds of battleship row. Krueger disembarked with the Arizona crew.

"Hey, Lieutenant!"

The German froze just three steps onto the teak deck of the Arizona.

"Forget something?"

The German felt the weight of the Luger tucked into his pants and under his tunic, and with a deep breath he turned to the man who had spoken.

The officer of the deck was eyeing him, hands on his hips. The German knew that he had somehow erred as he was looking at a lieutenant junior grade, a full rank below his own stolen status. He looked around as other sailors clambered up the gangway. He watched as they saluted toward the back of the great ship and then turned and saluted the officer of the deck. Krueger quickly deduced where he had gone wrong.

He swallowed and with a determined stagger, feigning drunkenness, turned to the stern of Arizona and sloppily saluted the flag, then turned to the officer of the deck and saluted him.

The salute was returned.

"Now I advise you to get below, sir, before someone that outranks us both sees your condition." The officer looked at his watch. "Ten minutes until reveille, Lieutenant. I'd move it if I were you."

Krueger looked at his watch as if he cared and saw that it was ten minutes until eight. Then he nodded and ducked into the nearest hatchway.

The officer of the deck didn't think it strange that he hadn't recognized the drunken lieutenant; after all, he had been onboard for only a week before he'd drawn OD duty. Still, he turned and looked after the figure as he disappeared.

Krueger had asked two passing sailors the way to officer's country. After looking at him strangely, they sent him in the right direction. When he found the right deck and the right cabin, he was not shocked to see a U.S. Marine guard standing at parade rest to the right of the door. He swallowed and made his way forward just as the bugle sounded for reveille up on deck. He walked toward the marine, who chanced a look down at his watch and didn't see the German reach for his Luger.

"Silence will see you through this morning, Corporal. Now, hands away from your weapon, please."

"Listen, mac, this ain't too goddamn funny. The captain's liable to--"

"Open the door, please."

"Isn't happening, lieutenant. Now quit being a wise guy and put that German peashooter away before you get us both in hot water."

Krueger had had enough. He reached out and slammed the Luger into the corporal's head, and before the stunned marine could fall he reached out, twisted the knob, and let the door fly open, using the weight of the slumping man.

As he stepped over the fallen marine, he was stunned to see the occupant of the cabin sitting at his small desk, fully dressed. What was worse was the fact that he had a Colt .45 pointed right at his chest.

The German slowly brought up his weapon, but the captain of the Arizona raised an eyebrow, indicating that it would be the last move he would ever make.

"You knew?"

The man sitting at the desk in his sparkling white uniform waved the German farther into the cabin, his eyes moving only when the young marine moaned on the floor. Then his eyes darted back to the intruder.

"Franklin Van Valkenburg, Captain, BB-39, USS Arizona . That package was addressed to me, and the boy's father used his son to deliver it."

"You're one of them?"

"Where is young Lieutenant Keeler?"

The German said nothing.

"I assume you killed him."

Still the German commando said nothing. Van Valkenburg cocked the .45.

"If I may explain, Captain?" the German stammered.

"No need. Your group tracked the plate map to Massachusetts and then through the torture of the boy's father you traced the package to this very ship."

"You must let me--"

"Explain? Let me take a stab at it to see if my brothers and sisters have informed me correctly. You are about to say you're here to make sure Herr Hitler and his cronies don't get the plate map and then the Atlantean Key. That your Coalition is pulling out of this mess started by the man you placed into power." Van Valkenburg smiled. "Am I warm?"

The large commando allowed his jaw to fall open.

"Who are you?"

Van Valkenburg smiled.

He tapped the chart and maps on the table with his free hand. "I have a passion for old maps and such. It took me a long while to figure out the plate map and its extraordinary features. It is far beyond any technology we have today." Again he smiled. "I have the very location of the Key your people are seeking and my former associates are trying to hide, right here on this map and chart. Navigation and maps are my hobby and I just couldn't resist. Too bad; you could have delivered this on a silver platter to your masters."

Suddenly loud sirens started to wail across the harbor and the ship came to life with battle stations called over the loudspeakers. The battleship was rocked violently just as the German commando brought up his weapon. Captain Van Valkenburg was faster and steadier. His shot caught the man squarely between the eyes and he fell across the marine guard. Just as he fired, the captain heard loud explosions out in the bay. Then, without warning, the Arizona was rocked by an explosion.

The captain quickly pulled the map and charts from his desk and made his way to the bulkhead. He folded them and placed them in a waterproof case, then quickly dialed the combination and opened his personal safe. He made sure the oilcloth wrapping the plate map was secure before he placed the map case in beside it. He was sorely tempted to remove it and keep it on his person and then tear to pieces his map and charts of Ethiopia, but decided against it. He quickly closed the thick steel door and then made his way up to the bridge.

Ten minutes later, a group of high-altitude Nakajima "Kate" bombers made their way over Pearl Harbor. The Japanese pilots had been practicing for months on silhouettes of ships just like the Arizona. By the time Van Valkenburg made it to the bridge and started to give orders for the defense of his ship, several torpedoes had already struck her, along with three bombs. However, the killing blow came from a redesigned naval artillery shell. A 1,760-pound bomb made its way from the third "Kate" in line and traveled three thousand feet down. The bomb penetrated the deck just to the right of the number-two gun turret. The armor-piercing bomb traveled through several decks, finally lodging in the companionway just outside the Arizona 's forward powder magazine.

The resulting detonation lifted the great ship's bow into the air, completely separating her teak deck from her armor. The internal explosion ripped through her as if she were made of tin, taking nearly her entire compliment of crew with her in a death that would rock the world and incite American passions for years to come.