John Schettler - Fallen Angels - 9 Days Falling, Volume II

“Very well, Mister Wilkes. I’ll take this directly in the radio room. Walk with me.”

It wasn’t a very long walk, down one corridor and up two ladders to the small compartment behind the main bridge, the flag radio room. Halsey listened, hearing the obvious Slavic accent in the English transmission. Fraser was correct. It sure sounded like these were, indeed, Russians.

“They’re broadcasting this in the clear like that?”

“Yes, sir,” said the radio man. “The whole fleet can hear it.”

Halsey thought about that a moment, then folded his arms. “Then let them hear this.” He reached for the microphone on the desk and thumbed the send switch.

“Now hear this. Attention on all decks. This is Fleet Admiral Halsey speaking to our Russian friends up north, and you had better listen up. You have fired on our aircraft, downed planes, refused to yield or heave to for boarding, and further engaged vessels of the United States Navy in active combat. I am bringing sixty warships up there to see about it, and I can double up on that bet any time it suits me. Now you will do exactly what I order here. Allies or not, you will heave to and be boarded by United States Marines. Your ships will be taken in tow, and held until such time as negotiations are concluded with the Soviet government over this matter. Is that understood?”

He waited, the eyes of the two radio men on him now, his arms folded over his broad chest. A long minute later the voice came back, in the same heavily accented English.”

“I am speaking on behalf of Acting Fleet Commander Vladimir Karpov, Russian Federal Navy. While we have no direct affiliation with the Soviet government, we nonetheless will look to their interests and endeavors. They have not sanctioned or approved our actions in defense of our ships, nor are they even aware of our presence here. That said, I will tell you that we will not heave to as ordered, nor will our ships be boarded, towed, or interned in any way. Furthermore, the Soviet government has no say in the determination of our fate, though the inverse may well be true. And the same goes for you.”

“What the hell is this guy talking about?” Halsey said aloud, clearly annoyed. “A bit long winded, isn’t he? Well let me make it clearer.” Halsey thumbed the radio send and spoke again.

“You will heave to and be boarded or I will sink you. Over.”

“You may try to do so, Admiral, but I will give you fair warning here. We have weapons unlike any you have ever seen. I am capable of destroying your entire fleet. Understood? Please do not force me to take actions that you and the men you command will dearly regret. I will offer to negotiate with you in person, or with fleet officers of command level rank, to resolve the situation without bloodshed, but if attacked I will defend my fleet and destroy yours in the process, and that is not a bluff or brag.”

Halsey shook his head. “Now you listen here, you son-of-a-bitch.” His cheeks betrayed his obvious anger. “You’ll meet with me on a cold day in hell. You will do exactly as I ordered in my first transmission, and that immediately. Signal your surrender now and this will end amicably. Otherwise you can go to hell, and I’ll be happy to send you there myself, personally.”

“You are making a mistake, Admiral Halsey. Very well, before things get out of hand I invite you to look to your starboard bow in ten minutes time. Karpov out.”

“Look to my starboard bow? What’s this idiot talking about?”

Halsey handed the microphone to the nearest radio man. “Issue the following fleet order and have it sent through flag and lantern as well. Don’t use the 24 MC circuit, just send it in the goddamned clear! Attention all ships, all carriers…” He looked out the porthole noting a pendant flying stiffly in the breeze to determine the wind direction.

“The fleet will come to three, four, zero degrees north and ready for battle. All carrier commanders…Let’s get turned into the wind.”

He turned and stormed out, heading for the bridge.

Theysaw something on the Sugar Charlie (SC-2) Radar on the Missouri , but the pip was moving so fast on the screen that the radar attendant thought it was a glitch. It was there, then gone, but it was off the starboard bow of the ship, and so anything seen was reported.

“Flag; Sugar Charley One. Reporting bogie, north by northwest, bearing true, single plane, pip wavering.”

The officer of the deck took the handset to acknowledge.

“Sugar Charley One; Flag. Single bogie aye, aye. Watchstander G1, confirm sighting. Over.” The OOD wanted eyes on the contact to both confirm and identify it if possible, and he was not disappointed.

“Flag; Watchstander G1. Bogie in sight, bearing zero-one-two, range twenty, incredible speed! Designate bogie one.”

“Watchstander G1; Flag; bogie one bearing zero-one-two, range twenty and very fast, aye, aye.”

Halsey was listening closely, arms folded, eyes scanning the horizon to the northwest. Something was out there, and he reached for a pair of binoculars to have a closer look when the sky was suddenly lit up like an exploding sun. The flash was so bright that Halsey was fortunate he wasn’t focusing on the bogie with binoculars yet, and had his back to the view port, or he would have been blinded. As it was, every man on the bridge shirked and instinctively shielded their eyes. Seconds later there came a strong vibration and the entire ship shuddered as a hard wind struck it from the north. Then they heard it, the awful ripping explosion and deep angry thunder that followed.

As the brightness faded Halsey squinted off his starboard bow to see an enormous explosion mushrooming up to the northwest. It looked as though the sea itself was on fire, and being sucked up into the sky as the mushroom towered up and up, billowing out at the top in a roiling yellow orange fireball.

“Brace for high seas!” a voice shouted, and then he saw the water coming at the fleet in a great wave, perhaps eighty feet high. Amazed at the sight, he saw a distant destroyer in the outer screen lifted by the wave and tossed about like a toy. As it rolled on through the formation all he could think of was that terrible hurricane they had faced a few months ago, but soon he saw the bigger and heavier ships were riding out the heavy swell intact, and he could feel the ocean lift Missouri , see her bow find air in the wild sea spray as the big battleship crested the wave, and then Mighty Mo settled back into the water, rolling slightly but sea keeping well.

Look to your starboard bow in ten minutes time… Halsey saw the evil white halo above the explosion in the sky, as though a demon from hell had been crowned with white fire. He had told the Russians to go to hell, and now they had served up a slice of the real estate for him to survey at his leisure. It was the most awesome thing he had ever seen.

He had heard the rumors from the 1941 incident in the North Atlantic—that the Germans possessed a terrible weapon based on atomic power. He didn’t understand it. Splitting something like an atom seemed an impossible thing to do, but he had been briefed in recent months on the existence and deployment of similar weapons now in the US arsenal, and they were very close at hand.

Halsey turned to Captain Stuart S. Murray, an old misplaced submariner who had been serving at the Annapolis Naval Academy since 1943 and was taken out of mothballs to be given a prime command on the battleship in May of that year.

“What in God’s name do you make of that?” The searing light was finally dim enough to be viewed without discomfort, but the big, amiable Captain, dubbed “Sunshine” by his peers, seemed dumbfounded.