Taylor Anderson - Iron Gray Sea

“New?”

“Ay, Cap-i-taan. From Mr. Saan-dison in Ord-naance.” He fished in his belt pouch and extended a letter. “This is from him to you. I would have left it for you had we already off-loaded and sailed for New Bri-taan Isles, but may-be you look at it now?”

Wordlessly, Matt took the letter and read.

To: Captain Reddy, CINCAF, HCAC, and CO USS Walker (DD-163)

From: Lt. Cmdr. B. Sandison, Acting Minister of Ordnance

Dear Skipper,

I don’t know if this will find you, but if it does, I hope it finds you well and already on your way home. You’ll be glad to hear that we’ve finally solved the guncotton issue and I’m really kind of embarrassed how easy it was once we quit trying to make it so hard. Evidently, cellulose is cellulose, to a larger degree than I had imagined. Anyway, we now have some four-inch-fifty shells I think you’re going to like. I won’t go into all the tech stuff here-some is stenciled on the crates and there’s more for Campeti in an insert pamphlet-but basically, pressures look good (17.4 tons). I’m sure glad we didn’t fork over the copper rods for making the pressure disks! Who knows what kind of “copper” they are, and how to duplicate it! We tested the shells in Old Number Four, as we call her (she’s shipshape again, by the way), and S-19’s deck gun. I’m happy to report that the trajectories matched book specs. There’s still something screwy with the burn rate or the alloy we’re using for the brass shells is a little off, because sometimes (around 10 percent) they split, but no chamber damage has been observed.

The projectiles aren’t armor piercing-what’s out there to pierce? — and we stuck with the old, specified 1.1-pound black-powder bursting charge, but the projectiles are the proper 33-pound iron with brass bearing bands. They shoot straighter, hit harder, and pack nearly the same wallop our old HE did. I think you’ll like them.

I’ve sent close to a full load out with Lieutenant Raada-Nin. He has orders to leave half at Respite and take the other half to Scapa Flow if you don’t meet. More are already at Manila, along with all the specs to start production on them, as well as the Jap secondaries scattered around.

Other projects are proceeding in every department, and I hope to have some very pleasant surprises for you soon.

Respectfully,

B. Sandison

Lt. Cmdr. USNR

Still without speaking, he handed the letter to Sandra, who scanned it incredulously. “So?” she demanded harshly, tossing the sheet toward the Bosun. “What difference does that make? Maybe you’ve got better ammunition now. What chance will that give you?”

“An even chance,” Matt replied, “and that’s better than usual.”

“Even,” Sandra snorted. “Right. That’s like saying an old man is ‘even’ with a teenager because he can spit just as far.”

“Lady Sandra!” Emelia gasped. She was not above such disputes with her husband, but never like this, in front of others, and she was keenly aware of the presence of all the Imperial men-something Sandra seemed to have forgotten.

Sandra suddenly looked around at the uncomfortable or disapproving stares, and realized with sick certainty that her outburst had doomed her cause. If only she’d waited, tried to reason with Matt in private, she may have stood a chance. But now she’d backed him into a corner, in front of men-their allies-who would think him weak if he conceded to her… and they could not think the Commander in Chief of All Allied Forces was weak. The Lemurians would understand how crazy it was for Matt to risk himself and his ship like this unless the situation was utterly desperate. The whole Alliance could crumble if something happened to him; he was still the primary unifying force. But as much as she knew the Imperials respected and honored Matt as a warrior and even as the savior of their country, they had a strong emperor again, and a country with a long tradition of unity. They just wouldn’t get it yet, wouldn’t think that way… It was then that she caught the very distressed expression on Ambassador Forester’s face. Or would they? She thought.

“The young lady may have a point, you know,” Forester said in a soothing tone. “Granted, her outburst was… unseemly, but the traditions of the Americans are different from ours and it is understandable if she is upset. We were discussing her wedding just a short time ago, after all.”

Sandra’s ears burned at the thought they would believe that was her primary motivation, but she kept her mouth shut.

“I know little of Walker. Her design is foreign to me. But even I can see that she has suffered serious damage that cannot all be repaired here. Is it wise to risk her and her brave, valuably experienced crew to destroy a single ship?”

“No,” Matt himself agreed honestly, “but wise or not, I don’t see a choice.”

“Keep sendin’ planes after her. Bomb her to scrap, I say,” said the Bosun.

“And lose how many? Six already tried, and four were lost without even scratching her paint. That’s eight precious flyers we can’t afford to lose.” Matt shook his head. “ Walker ’s more important to me than to anybody, but in many respects, this war has passed her by almost as thoroughly as our war against the Japs did. She’s not going to decide this one either, Boats. Not by herself. Lieutenant Tucker’s right about that. Sure, she might as well be a battleship in a surface action against what we’ve seen, but air power will most likely be the tipping point. In the meantime, though, it’s not even close to ‘even’ for whatever Hidoiame runs into. Apparently, not only did she destroy Mizuki Maru, but two feluccas and a frigate. That’s close to seven hundred people she’s killed, beyond her previous… atrocities.”

“One of our big carriers with Amagi ’s secondaries could take her,” the Bosun speculated.

“If it could draw her in,” said Chack, “but it would never catch her. An entire wing of ‘Naan-cees’ could overwhelm her defenses and probably sink her…”

“But the losses would be terrible,” Matt repeated, “and the question’s moot anyway. Saan-Kakja’s building two more flat-tops for deployment to the east, but though they’ll be heavily armed with conventional weapons-muzzle-loading cannon, and big ones too-they’re still limited to a couple of thousand yards, tops. Besides, neither of them will be ready for sea sooner than three months from now. That’s too long.”

“So you’re going to do it,” Sandra stated. It wasn’t a question.

“No choice. I wish we’d been close enough to do it when we first heard about her, but all our major ports and strategic outposts are well enough armed to protect themselves, and besides, we had other priorities.” He shrugged. “And I thought Okada would handle her.” He was silent for a moment, and everyone saw the thoughts colliding behind his eyes.

“Hell!” he said suddenly. “I hate it how things sneak up on me! I just realized that she represents another, more pressing threat I hadn’t even thought of before. She had an oiler in tow when she came through her squall-or whatever it was-so we’ve been thinking she’d just hole up. But what if the oiler wasn’t full? What if she’s starting to run low on fuel, or what’ll she do when she does? The longer she’s on the loose, the sooner that’ll happen. If she’s based where we think she is, she can’t even drill for oil like we did because there isn’t any there. She can’t take it from any of our facilities or set up shop nearby without us knowing it… and she can’t even know everywhere we are!”

Matt’s face turned even grimmer as he looked around the table. He saw Chack blinking furiously in thought.

“That means this bad Jaap will have only one other way to sustain himself, at least in the short term,” Chack murmured, his tail swishing behind him.