John Ringo - To Sail a Darkling Sea

“ ‘The fact remains that not a single town or village has been freed in Europe!” Laurent shouted. “ When will you begin the liberation? Is the United States to be fully freed before you even begin to consider the people suffering under the scourge of this disease which started in America?!”

“Avec ce, Monsieur?” Steve said. “With what?”

“You have Marines,” Laurent said. “You have the gunboats. You have cleared towns in the Canary Islands. But you have not touched Europe! Are you afraid?”

“Terrified,” Steve said. “But, you can feel free, Monsieur.”

“What?” Laurent said.

“I will give you a Division,” Steve said, shrugging. “Two gun boats. One yacht. I started with far less. When you need more ammunition, well, we’ll keep in touch. Come and get it. Would you like it this evening? I do have many other things I could be doing.”

“I do not know how to run any of those things,” Laurent said.

“And this is my fault, how?” Steve asked. “But, seriously, I would be more than willing to give you a boat. Sail up to La Belle France. Free towns. Free villages. Go right ahead.”

“There is more than France to free,” David Murphy said. The Irishman more or less represented the British Isles bloc in the Squadron’s civilian population.

Not quite behind Steve’s back a democratic movement had started. It made sense except for the fact that they were still a. at sea and b. not exactly out of the woods, yet. He liked democracy except when it looked to derail any forward momentum the Squadron might have achieved.

Times like this he wished he had an Eisenhower around. Just being able to speak more than English and Spanish would help.

“Oh, most agreed, Mister Murphy,” Steve said. “Totally agreed. If you’re asking me what I would notionally do to free Europe, it would be to take it in stages, starting from Ireland.”

“That is absurd!” Laurent said. “Clearing Ireland, alone, would take… ”

“About a year the way I hope to eventually do it,” Steve said. “Possibly less. Msr. Laurent, you don’t care for me and the feeling is mutual. But if I thought you would actually take such a offer, I’m not sure I would give it to you.”

“So first you offer, then you take it away?” Laurent said. “This is so American!”

“Msr., you failed to note my statement that I would be terrified to attempt any action in Europe at the moment,” Steve said. “And although you are quick to argue for some sort of Europe First campaign, you might want to consider why moving to Europe, versus the Caribbean, during this time of the year is the lesser choice.”

“Weather,” Murphy said.

“The weather,” Steve replied. “We are barely able to manage the Squadron’s boats in nearly ideal conditions, Msr. Would you have us take the whole force into the North Atlantic? In December ?”

“People are dying,” Laurent said. “People are wondering about their loved ones… ”

“There is a map of the world, Msr.,” Steve said, pointing to the wall. “Please show me the spot where people are not. As to numbers of people from where, were it based entirely on population, we should up stakes and head for Indonesia and the Philippines. Or the United States. The States are closer. So. We go to the States.”

“The fact that you are an American officer and American forces control all the guns has nothing to do with it?” Daimon Eberhard asked. The German represented many of the “continentals” in La Comite.

“Of course it has something to do with it,” Steve said, reaching into a drawer. “So does this,” he said, holding up a round. “Pop quiz for who knows what I’m holding?”

“A bullet?” Laurent said.

“A round,” Steve said. “Bullet, casing, primer and propellant. Specifically, a fifty-caliber Browning Machine-gun round, Msr. We’re using quite a bit of these and we will continue to do so because they are faster at clearing infected than mechanicals from ports. Msr., do you know where I can get some more? We still have quite a few, but at the rate we are using them, we will need ten times the amount we currently have simply to clear the ports I’ve been looking at in Scandinavia and the Baltic.”

“No, I do not,” Laurent said. “And you are planning on clearing Scandinavia?”

“I have what are described as ‘notional’ plans going out some distance, Msr.,” Steve said. “Mister Murphy, would you care to venture a guess as to where there are more of these rounds?”

“At Guantanamo Bay?” Murphy asked.

“Guantanamo Bay,” Steve said. “Key West. Mayport. Blount Island. Cherry Point. Fort Eustis. Gitmo and Key West I know I can take. Fort Eustis, possibly. Mayport and Fort Stony, the primary objective would be the RO-ROs. Msr. Laurent, you noted that quite a few of the members of the Squadron are European. Do you know where I can get some master mariners to run the RO-ROs so that I can, in fact, roll off the ammunition, guns, trucks, supplies and tanks that are onboard?”

“Many of your mariners already are,” Laurent said. “Which is why if you do not take action to free Europe, soon, you will face a strike.”

“But finding any of them is a matter of happenstance,” Steve said. “Do you know where there is a stockpile of such mariners? On submarines. American . Submarines. Filled with American . Naval personnel. And do you know who paid for those submarines? The training of their crews? The RO-RO pre-positioned ships? This ‘bullet’ as you put it? American taxpayers, Msr. Laurent. So, yes, the primary objective is and remains, America First.

“Once I have the sub crews, Msr. Laurent, and once the summer is upon us, I fully intend to send flotillas, squadrons in fact, to various points around the globe. Including, but not limited to, Europe. Can I guarantee this? No. But when summer comes, I will gladly avail you of your own boats to go clear La Belle France. Feel free. You can even leave as soon as we clear Guantanamo. If you are stupid enough to do so.

“But when and where I send my ships, my men, my boats, is up to me , gentlemen. And as to your threat to strike, Msr. Laurent, this is not the land. This is the sea. And the law of the sea says that even organizing such a movement is mutiny which is punishable by death. I would not, of course, kill you or any of these fine gentlemen. Nor the captains and mates who performed various acts to show their solidarity. I would simply strand you somewhere until there is some town you can be dropped off upon. Or, possibly, if I am feeling generous, a stout ship and you can find your own star to sail her by. In the meantime, there are people to rescue and deeds to be done by the brave. Good evening, gentlemen.”

“I need something more than shorts and a T-shirt,” O’Toole said, his arms crossed.

The morning wasn’t cold but it was cool and there was a stiff wind. Thomas was enjoying the wind too much to notice the cold. Unfortunately, it was from the direction of the liners which meant it was a bit whiff. But he’d smelled worse for months.

“It sounds like there is more,” Walker said.

He’d met the former businessman for breakfast. Breakfast wasn’t awful but it wasn’t haute cuisine. Reconstituted scrambled eggs and more fish. There was, however, really good freshly made bread.

“I looked at the market,” O’Toole said. “They wanted five bloody chits for a pair of jeans in my size. I’m told that if we pass the course we get a free dive into what’s available. I’m waiting for that. Penny saved and all that. Where’s that bloody zodiac?”