David Golemon - Ancients

As the officer moved to the subsurface-search screen, the green blip appeared and vanished once more.

The flight of six S-37 fighters of the North Korean air force skimmed the sea at wave-top level. If it had not been for the large amount of sea spray streaming from their fuselages, the newest line of stealth-technology fighters would have struck undetected. Still, that intermittent signal was enough to confuse the Americans.

Each of the six new fighters was armed with a single weapon: the SSN-22 cruise missile. Western intelligence had recently dubbed the new Russian-designed weapon "the deadliest missile in the world." Code-named the Sunburn, it was capable of supersonic speeds and packed a punch that could singlehandedly sink an American Nimitz-class carrier. At this moment there were six Sunburns targeting the Roosevelt .

"We have multiple incoming targets, one hundred and eighty klicks and closing. Speed is estimated at Mach 1.2!"

The Roosevelt and Lake Champlain radars were picking up only four of the inbound targets because, after launch, one of the costly cruise missiles simply fell off its launch rail and hung from one of its explosive bolts. As it caught the air, it dragged the plane down and it splashed into the sea, cartwheeling the expensive fighter into the angry ocean.

Another of the Sunburns ignited, but then the warhead inexplicably detonated. Unknown to the manufacturer, a watertight seal that had been improperly installed at the Russian factory had corrupted the arming timer with seawater on the flight in. The resulting explosion took out not only the launching S-37 but its wingman. Both fighters disintegrated in an expanding wave of destruction that lit up the darkened sky.

The giant ship maneuvered to starboard at flank speed as the approaching missiles gained on it. Three of the Sunburns targeted the great carrier and one, the Lake Champlain.

As RAM (rolling action) missiles filled the gray sky around the task force from every warship in the group, the Lake Champlain's old Phalanx system started to track the incoming threat. The R2-D2 platform, named after the Star Wars character, rotated with the high whine of its turbine, and the six-barreled Gatling gun started turning in anticipation of placing its lethal rounds into the air.

The Roosevelt's captain saw what was going to happen.

"Helm, hard to port!" he ordered loudly.

The carrier started to turn, but it was too late. The first 770-pound war-head slammed into the vessel below the high-water mark amidships, killing four hundred sailors in the initial detonation. Fire quickly spread throughout the cavernous hangar deck. The giant warship shuddered and was actually lifted free of the sea as her keel bent and then straightened in a springlike action that came very near to breaking her back. As she settled back into the water, her crew waited for the second strike, which would surely finish her.

The Lake Champlain saved her. By splitting the two old Phalanx turrets between the second and third missiles, the Champlain's captain was hoping beyond hope to save the Roosevelt from the deathblow headed her way.

Another missile, aimed directly at the Champlain, was being tracked by their old but reliable Raytheon RIM-161 standard missiles. She started pumping the SAMs into the air as fast as her automatic loader could deploy them. Simultaneously, chaff and flares launched from their tubes and started to explode in an attempt to confuse the incoming Sunburn.

The first missile was just crossing the point of no return for the forward Phalanx. The depleted uranium rounds played out like water from a garden hose as it tracked. The cruise missile popped up in the last seconds of flight due to its programmed orders to target the Teddy's flight deck. At the last possible moment, five of the more than eight thousand uranium rounds in the air struck the large missile dead center and exploded it seventy feet from the carrier's large island structure. Fire and shrapnel from the momentum of the Sunburn spread destruction to the bridge area of the carrier just as she righted herself from the first strike.

The second missile was close behind, and just as the Roosevelt settled and her bronze propellers bit the sea, fighting for speed, the missile struck her at the stern. There was no detonation. The Roosevelt was hit with a dud missile. Thanks to the Champlain, thousands of men were saved.

The Lake Champlain wasn't so lucky. She attempted to turn to port just as the fourth Korean missile struck. The resulting explosion ripped through her midsection and blew out the other side. The worst effect was the downward trajectory of the expanding wave of destruction as it found a hole in the ship's design, the tunnel that fed missiles to the automated loader. The American missiles exploded in the main loading area of the cruiser and the rest of the energy traveled down into the bowels of the proud warship. The kinetic energy slammed into her lowest deck, disintegrating reinforced steel plates until it finally found the keel. The thick spine of steel simply snapped in half like a frail twig. The onrush of water weighted the forward half of the Lake Champlain and pulled it under, leaving the stern to catch up.

Two miles away, the USS Theodore Roosevelt was dead in the water with her fires belowdecks out of control. Other ships started making their way in to help as the shock of the Korean attack was quickly replaced by anger at what amounted to a sneak attack on the force.

The world situation was slowly worsening, per the plan. Meanwhile, across the ocean and half a world away, the Coalition was preparing to assault another, but very much older, ship still on the U.S. Navy active rolls: the USS Arizona.

The first female elected chancellor of the German state stood and walked to the podium. The dinner was a benefit for the German Red Cross and was a timely affair since the agency's resources had been stretched thin by the recent natural disasters in Asia and the Middle East. The chancellor was radiant in her black gown and she smiled brightly for the five hundred paying guests of the Red Cross. Her security detail scanned the forty round tables in the ballroom located in the newest of Berlin's luxury hotels.

The audience stood to applaud the woman who had so recently taken the country by storm, by word and vote. She had been elected on the peace vote just as her American counterpart had been, thus allying herself with American foreign policy.

She waved at the gathered guests and raised her arms in a triumphant gesture, which pleased the very rich in the ballroom to no end. Her black-gloved hand was richly appointed with a bracelet of diamonds, a gift from her husband on election day.

One man in the rear of the room just stood watching. The new chief of security for the hotel, a well-regarded man in his midfifties, watched as the left-wing bitch, as he thought of her, took in her glory. He sneered as he raised a cell phone to his ear and made a call. He nodded at one of the chancellor's security men who was covering the door; the man smiled and nodded back, never suspecting a thing.