William Forstchen - Down to the Sea

“God bless Vincent Hawthorne, at least he ignored you for once and sent those extra planes out to look for him.” He smiled.

“I’m glad he did. Now let’s go do our jobs.”

Hazin stood at the railing of his ship, watching as landing ships surged in to shore. The dark mass of thousands of the Shiv were already forming up on the beach, beginning to move up into the hills. By the end of the day the last of them would be ashore, followed by the umen of land cruisers, and then he could withdraw.

He looked back out to sea. Three battleships lay off the bay, the rest of the fleet beyond. Admiral Vasa, now commander of the fleet, was compliant enough in terms of keeping the fleet with him. He wisely knew what might happen otherwise. Three of the surviving cousins had died as well, one of them from quite natural causes, shot by a strafing enemy airship.

Vasa knew and understood. The Shiv under General Zhan would do their job well while he returned home to properly protect the unborn emperor or empress.

He looked over at O’Donald, who stood by the bow, gaze locked on the ships steaming in, carrying with them the terrifying striking arm of the Shiv. He would go with them, ready to be used at the proper moment.

All things were now possible, Hazin thought with a smile.