Beyond the Sea

7

Jack pulled up a sputtering Charlie Ellenshaw. He had yanked him up by his floating white hair to the surface, where both men spit out salt water and tried their best to stay afloat. Collins looked around as heads began to bob to the surface of the softly rolling sea.

The last thing of the Night Owl he saw was the tail boom as it slid beneath the water. He spied Jason Ryan soon afterward surface with a gagging and spitting copilot of the V-25. Then he saw Henri and Carl as they assisted the Royal Marines. Collins and Charlie swam toward Ryan.

“Any other crew get out?” he shouted.

Ryan made sure the copilot was all right and then turned to face Jack. “No, I couldn’t find the master chief, either.”

Suddenly, the water erupted next to them as Jenks surfaced. He pulled heavily on something, and then the frightened face of the Royal Navy pilot came into view. He threw up seawater as Jenks pulled off his flight helmet.

“Come on, breathe, you limey bastard!”

Finally, the pilot took a deep breath and then vomited again.

“That’s it. You’ll live.”

“You always act surprised when your plans go straight to hell. Flying through a hurricane usually means bad things to the rest of the world, but you Americans always think you can pull off the impossible.”

Jack looked over at a drenched and bleeding Henri Farbeaux. “Glad to see you made it, Henri.”

Collins started counting the heads that were visible. He stopped at thirty-six. That meant they had lost seventeen men. He slapped the water angrily, as he knew that whoever had fired that missile was now in deep debt with the Royal Navy.

“We lost one hell of a lot of people, Jack.”

Collins looked over and saw Everett. He had gathered some of the equipment bags that had almost gone down with the V-25.

“I know. Let’s get aboard that damnable ship and get this over with before some asshole tries that again.”

A line hit the water next to Ryan’s head as he joined them. They turned and saw that it was the Shiloh’s rigging crew aboard the Simbirsk who had thrown the ropes.

Jack watched as the De Zeven, initially tagged for the rescue, turned and made her way back to Shiloh. Evidently, Captain Johnson wanted his escort back to multiply defensive weaponry in case they were attacked again. Prudent thinking as far as Jack was concerned.

“I hope they have coffee going on that tub,” Jenks said as he tied the thick rope around the pilot and signaled Simbirsk to haul him aboard.

Jack looked at the World War II Russian cruiser and saw that she looked as if she had come out of her commissioning birth just last week. She was in pristine condition and looked like any warship from that era. There was one notable exception — the coiled wiring that covered her hull from stem to stern. They looked like old-fashioned coil springs from an army cot. They were gray in color to match the ship’s paint scheme. He saw the American riggers on board as they managed to throw five more lines into the water. Collins felt a strange electrical sensation gently coursing through his body. It wasn’t painful, but he knew it was there. It was like the feeling you get just before a close encounter with a lightning strike.

“Shall we see what all the hubbub is about, Colonel? At least to take cover in case someone starts shooting missiles at us again.”

Jack nodded at Carl, who also turned to see the ghost ship in front of them.

The Russian battle cruiser Simbirsk waited like an old haunted house from stories told to make you frightened of your own shadow when you were a child. It was Ellenshaw who put the right words to it.

“That ship has gone bad,” he said as he was pulled toward the derelict by the lifeline.

At that moment, a Russian-made Ka-27 antisubmarine helicopter swooped low over the floating men and the towed Simbirsk. The counter-rotating blades made a heavy whump as they passed. Jack’s eyes narrowed when the Russian was joined by an American Seahawk. They dueled in the sky over their heads, each helicopter coming closer and closer together in ever-more dangerous maneuvering.

“I guess Hurricane Tildy is the place to be. All the best people are here.”

As soon as Jack and his remaining men were aboard, he was handed a radio. Now that his team had arrived, the mission had become his operational command. Everett stood next to him, trying to shake some of the cold water from his nylon BDU. Before Jack raised the radio to his mouth, he quickly made sure everyone was safely aboard. After the excitement of their arrival, it took him a moment to remember the code name for the operation.

“This is Dynamo actual, over,” he said as he caught his breath from the strenuous climb to the high decking of the old warship.

“Dynamo actual, this is Captain Ezra Johnson. I think we can drop the pretense here. I think the damn Russians know about our presence, over.”

Before Jack could respond, the Russian helicopter broke with the Seahawk and turned and swooped low over the bow of the ship — low enough that all aboard dove for cover. Collins raised his head with an angry look but forcibly calmed himself as the twin counter-rotating blades buffeted the exposed men. The Royal Navy lieutenant was organizing his remaining men to prepare to resist an onboard assault. He dispersed them throughout the upper deck into hidden positions. Jack nodded at the young officer’s move.

“I see your point, Captain.” Jack gave Carl a knowing look. Everett, for his part, was assisting Jenks and Charlie Ellenshaw with their equipment check. They had lost some gear and were worried they wouldn’t be able to make their analysis of the Russian ship with what they had left. Carl shook his head slightly at Jack, indicating the trouble. “What is the current situation? Over.”

“Well, if that rust bucket over there had radar, you would be able to see a most disturbing sight. We have a Kirov-class missile cruiser and her escort bearing down on us. They are currently sixty miles out and closing at flank speed. No more ordnances have been popped off, but I don’t expect the situation to hold. I have my orders also, over.”

Jack and the others knew what those orders were. If for any reason they could not secure the vessel, it would be sunk as a hazard to navigation. That was a polite euphemism for “If we can’t have it, you can’t either.”

“With the loss of some of our equipment, it looks like we can start leaning in that direction. Do we have time for a general inspection of her power plant? Over.”

“Unless the Red Baron up there starts shooting, I would say you have about three hours, over.”

Collins was about to respond when a voice broke into their secure channel. The uninvited intruder was even clearer than the straight line-of-sight signal from Shiloh.

“To the illegal boarding party currently aboard the Simbirsk, this is Colonel Leonid Salkukoff. You are committing an act of international piracy, and the Russian government asks you to stand down and return to us Russian state property.”

Collins heard the voice of the Russian and responded, “I am sure I don’t have to stand here and explain to you the finer points of international law governing the open seas of the world. This ship is a derelict and unmanned. It is also a hazard to free navigation. By right of salvage, NATO has claimed this vessel.”

“Who am I speaking to please? Over,” came the accented voice. Jack knew that whoever it was, it was coming from the circling helicopter over their heads due to the heavy sound of rotors heard in the background.

A quick look at Carl and a smirk. He clicked the transmit button. “This is Dynamo, over.”

“Ah, we can play this game all day, Colonel Collins. We will play until the whistle sounds, and still, the inevitable outcome will not have changed one iota. Over.”

Most of the men on the deck of Simbirsk heard Jack’s real name being uttered by the Russian. They all stopped and listened as the situation had suddenly just changed direction.

“Okay, Colonel, you know who I am. Your dramatic and revealing moment has passed, and here we are with the same dilemma we had just a second ago.”

“Colonel, we can have this discussion all day, but at the moment, our missile cruiser Peter the Great has been tracking a submerged target in her area. May I suggest you tell your submarine to back down until we can come to some form of understanding? Over.”

Collins acknowledged the dreaded news by the look on his companions’ faces. Everett, the navy man, along with Ryan, saddled up closer to hear the exchange. They knew an attack on a submarine would be devastating. It was in the calmer waters underneath the waves while Peter the Great was on the surface with a clear sonar signal to pick up on, where, because of the high seas, Houston would have trouble getting a fire solution. The Russian had the advantage. Jack grimaced when he saw the choices in front of him.

“A temporary stay only, Colonel, nothing more. Let us communicate without the specter of a massacre threatening your sailors. Over.”

“Captain Johnson.”

“Shiloh, here.”

“Captain, on my authority, order Houston to stand down. Further orders later. Over.”

Just two clicks sounded on the radio informing Collins that the captain understood.

“Now you see, Colonel, cooperation between nations can be a simple achievement. We have—”

“You fired on a United States ship of war, Colonel. That is what—”

“We fired upon common pirates. Can we skip your game of American dodgeball, Colonel? I suggest a cease-fire until we can have a discussion in person. My forces will stand down in a joint effort at the cooperation I mentioned a moment ago. Over.”

Jack looked around him. The ancient Russian ship. The towline leading to another vessel full of young men. And then he looked across at the Dutch ship, whose sailors even now lined her outer railing watching with anticipation. Then his eyes rose to the swirling cage of the hurricane they found themselves in. The black wall swirled around them like a tube of evil darkness. His eyes fell to Carl, who only nodded at Jack that they had no other choice at the moment.

“Agreed.”

“How many men do you currently have aboard, Colonel? Over.”

“We have thirty-six officers and men aboard. All fully armed, Colonel.”

“Coincidentally, we have almost the same number. And we are armed also. So, we have an agreement; all forces will stand down until we can have a civilized discussion on our differences of opinion. Over.”

Jack lowered his eyes and his radio as he quickly thought. He looked up and caught Ryan’s attention.

“Mr. Ryan, take a few of these marines and stash some weapons in a few of the companionways. I don’t care much for liars, and that is just what we have here.”

“Colonel, my patience wears thin. I do not care for flying all that much. I understand you have the same affliction. Over.”

“Okay, this is getting downright creepy, Jack. How in the hell does he know that? No one in our own department has a clue but us,” Carl said as he knelt beside Collins.

“We’re not going to find out by not letting the bastard board.” Jack angrily clicked his radio to life and stood as the helicopter swung low once more over the deck. “Permission granted to land aboard Shiloh for transfer to Simbirsk. Over.”

“Oh, I think we can manage something a little more time friendly, Colonel.”

Collins heard the scream of the Russian-made navy helicopter as it came low toward them. It rose and then settled beyond the high radio mast of the cruiser, toward the stern. It vanished.

“Damn it!” Jack cursed as he was tossed an M4 automatic weapon. “Mr. Ryan, get Jenks and Charlie into the wheelhouse after you get some weapons in other locations and wait. Carl, get a squad of marines, and let’s greet our guest.”

It took Jack, Carl, and sixteen of the Royal Marines three minutes to cover the seven hundred feet of deck to the stern of the old cruiser. When they arrived, the last man rappelling from the helicopter was seen as his booted feet struck the deck just aft of the number-three gun turret. The man allowed the rubberized rope to fly free as he quickly unzipped his body armor to allow cooler air to enter. He looked around the stern of the Simbirsk, and then he spied the two Americans and their greeting party of sixteen Royal Marines. He smiled and gave the men a jaunty salute.

Jack stood waiting with his exposed weapon at his side. He felt someone next to him and saw that it was Henri Farbeaux. Jack’s eyes saw the dirt and grease on his BDU and knew that the Frenchman had already been inside the cruiser.

“Exploring, Henri?” he asked out of the side of his mouth.

Farbeaux’s eyes never left the man who was smiling and walking toward them with thirty-two men dressed just as they were. The Frenchman’s eyes narrowed.

“I thought I would do the job I was kidnapped to do, Colonel. Then maybe my part in this foolishness can come to an end sooner rather than later.”

“Well, is that him?”

Henri watched the Russian’s approach. His mouth went into a straight line.

“Yes, it is him.” He faced Jack. “Do not trust this man, Colonel. His mission here is to destroy your assets and kill every one of you.”

“Why don’t you tell us what it is you really think, Froggy?”

Henri looked at Everett, who smirked. “This may be one situation you won’t find so amusing, Captain. I do not see an acceptable outcome here.”

Carl saw the seriousness in Farbeaux’s face and decided to stop chiding him. He didn’t particularly care for that look on the former French Army colonel’s face.

A man who stood the same height as Jack came up and stopped. He eyed the two men beside him and then the Royal Marines to his right and left. He looked behind him at his own black-clad warriors.

“At ease. Inform your men to sling weapons, Captain.”

Jack watched as the men with their black helmets and Russian-made Nomex BDUs on did as ordered. He also noticed that these soldiers were far more heavily armed than his own contingent.

“There. Now, we can all be friends,” Salkukoff said as he faced Jack. He stood rigid for the briefest of moments and then gave Collins a very fast and ill-mannered salute. Collins just as quickly returned it. “I hope I did that right.” He smiled over at the larger Everett and Farbeaux. “It’s been quite some time since I played soldier.”

“Colonel, your mission here is illegal. I request that you and your men fly back to your cruiser and let the courts decide what happens next.”

The smile remained as Salkukoff tilted his head as if he were attempting to understand a language he did not know.

“So you can rape this vessel for her technology? Colonel, you of all people know better than that.”

“Rape the technology of a ship over seventy years old? Colonel, in poker, you never show an opponent just how weak your hand really is.”

Salkukoff turned his head, and instead of answering Jack, he faced Henri Farbeaux.

“Colonel Collins has a very diverse sense of humor. He accuses the Russian government of wrongdoing but at the same time has in his employ one of the greater antiquity thieves in modern history.” He stuck his hand out to Henri. “Colonel Farbeaux, I find you in the strangest locales.”

The Frenchman looked at the outstretched hand, and then his eyes moved to the colder, darker eyes of the Russian.

“I am a thief, yes. All here can attest to that fact.” He didn’t notice nor did he care that Salkukoff dropped the offered handshake. “But you are a murderous pig of the first order. I was witness to your bravery on the battlefield.”

A knowing look crossed the Russian’s features. “Ah, the Ukraine. They were thieves, Colonel, just like yourself. They paid the price. You, sir, have yet to meet our justice.”

“And that time is not here and not now,” Collins said as he stepped in front of Henri. “This man is under my protection.”

Salkukoff smiled even wider. “As you are mine, Colonel Collins. While aboard the Simbirsk, you will be offered our hospitality. At the end of this, we will see if you wish to pursue matters in another direction.”

He stepped past Collins and then eyed the vessel around him. He shook his head and then ran a hand along the bottom of the number three-gun turret.

“They don’t construct them like this anymore”—he turned to face Jack—“do they, Colonel?” He saw that the American was going to remain silent. “Today’s surface ships of aluminum and composites, they would never have withstood phase shift dynamics.”

Collins and Everett exchanged quick, nervous looks.

“I believe you may have an engineer aboard?”

Jack stood silent as he eyed the man before him. The Russian brushed the rust off his hands and looked at the group of NATO representatives. “No, you did not bring along your brilliant Master Chief Jenks, the man responsible for getting your response to the alien incursion into the air. I must say a thrilling sight to see something as large as that battleship rise into the blue skies of Antarctica. It gave me goose bumps.”

Collins was having a hard time not only hiding his anger but also his shock that even the master chief was known to this man.

“Uri, it looks like you will not get to have the intellectual exchange you had hoped.”

A smaller man emerged from the group of Russian commandos. He was wearing glasses and had a distinct look of discomfort about him. He removed the helmet from his head and then held it at his side.

“A shame. I am a great admirer of the master chief. I have read all his work on hydrodynamics and naval engineering. Marvelous mind.”

“May I present—” Salkukoff started to say.

“Dr. Uri Gervais, chief engineer of the Orion project.”

Jack turned and saw the master chief with Ryan and Charlie standing next to him. Jenks lit his cigar and then eyed the smaller man before him.

“He’s the man behind Russia’s effort to get to the moon.”

Jack looked from Jenks to the small scientist before him. The man looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but here. Collins could also see that the older scientist was terrified of Salkukoff.

“Professor, it was my understanding from our intelligence briefings that you wouldn’t be caught dead in the company of assholes like this.”

All eyes went from the cigar-puffing Jenks to the Russian professor and then to the colonel, who merely laughed at the insult from the career navy man. Dr. Gervais, for his part, said nothing. The man looked downright uncomfortable.

“And our briefings on you are as accurate as yours are on the good doctor. Now, shall we see about our mystery ship and where she could have been hiding since World War II?” He stepped past Jack and the others and made for the hatchway that led into the darkened interior of the ship. Collins and Everett both noticed the satchel charges being carried by every one of the Russian commandos. It was clear what their intent was if they could not recover the Simbirsk.

The Americans and British followed the Russian strike team into the phantom of the Atlantic.

8

The smell of oil, grease, and sweat permeated the air inside the blackness of the Simbirsk. The lingering aroma of baked goods and meat, beets, and other smells greeted them. The Americans allowed Salkukoff and his men, with the exception of the twelve who followed them, to lead the way. The Russian colonel held up a diagram as they slowly eased their way down a deserted and dark companionway.

“Ah, here we are,” he said as he indicated a hatchway that led downward. “Engineering spaces right this way.”

“Do you guys feel it?” Charlie asked as he caught up to Jack and the others.

“What, Charlie?” Jack asked, wanting everyone’s impressions about the situation.

“Ghosts. I don’t know, but this ship is all wrong. I felt it while in the water, and I feel it now.”

“Just your nerves, Doc,” Ryan said with not much conviction. Even the clattering of their footsteps on the metal stairs made a hollow, echoing sound that felt like a harbinger of something waiting for them below.

“As soon as we get the generators working, we can—”

Before the colonel could finish his statement, the lights inside the stairwell flared to brilliant brightness. Every man stopped and looked around. They all heard the far-off mechanical sounds and the generators running. Bilge pumps cranked to life, and the flow of bilgewater started spewing from the side of the Simbirsk. Jack managed to look behind him at Jenks, who just shrugged in ignorance as to how the lights could have come on without anyone turning them on.

“Perhaps your claim on international salvage rights has just been denied, Colonel Collins. It seems she may have not been abandoned after all,” Salkukoff said as he continued downward. Both the Russian and Collins himself were aware that maybe they should have brought along the bulk of their men instead of leaving them to glare at each other above deck.

As they traveled down the eight decks to the engineering spaces, they all felt the power around them. Every once in a while, the hair on their arms and necks would gently rise as if an electrical current were swirling around them.

In the back of the line of men, Jenks turned to the smaller Russian professor. He tossed the cigar away and fixed the gray-haired man with a fierce look.

“From my understanding, Doc, you were thought to hang out with better people than this current staff you have. What in the hell happened to you?”

Gervais looked sheepish at first, but when he saw that the Russian colonel and his men — with the exception of the Russian rear guard behind him and Jenks — were far enough away, he leaned toward Jenks and spoke in low tones.

“Things are changing in my world, Mr. Jenks. Some would say not entirely for the better.”

Jenks let the Mister pass without comment since he knew the good professor didn’t know navy protocols. He did, however, pop a fresh cigar into his mouth as his eyes went from Gervais to the Russian commandos who were following. He lit the cigar and said nothing as the professor pushed by him as if the conversation might have already gone too far.

“Things are a little squirrely around here,” he said as the trailing Russian commandos gestured for him to continue forward.

The line of men stopped at a double set of heavy steel doors. None of the professional navy men had ever seen hatchways such as these on a warship. It was as if they were made to keep something out — or in. Salkukoff spun the heavy locking wheel until it stopped. They all noticed that it had turned as if it had been greased just yesterday.

“Jenks,” Jack said quickly as he held his hand out and stayed the doors from opening. The Russian turned with raised brows.

The master chief, with Ellenshaw in tow, stepped forward, and Charlie dipped into a large duffel and produced a small device. Jenks held out a Geiger counter. He listened, as did the others, with great interest. Without a word, Jenks held his hand out behind him, and Charlie placed a small ball-like device into his hand as he accepted the radiation counter back from Jenks.

“You wanna step back, comrade?” he said as he eyed Salkukoff at the supposed insult by the master chief.

Jenks eased the right side of the double steel doors open and tossed in the small ball. They all heard it clatter to the steel deck as Jenks quickly slammed the door closed. The master chief leaned against the cold steel and then silently counted as Charlie brought up a small computer and then started taking readings. The ball was the invention of the Nuclear Sciences Division and was designed to sniff out radiation and deadly chemicals such as anthrax and other dangerous substances. The sniffer began working.

“The counter shows nothing. No radiation.” He looked at his wristwatch. Then he looked at Charlie Ellenshaw. “Well, Doc?”

“The sniffer is clear. Zero.”

Jenks turned and then opened the door and then gestured for the Russian to enter.

“She’s clean. No rads and no chemical contaminant to speak of.”

“That would be impressive, Master Chief, if our science back in the ’40s was as advanced as you seem to think. Why would this ship have radiation permeating the air?”

Jack walked easily past Salkukoff and stepped inside the engineering spaces. “Then I take it you understand just where this ship has been for all these years, Colonel? Maybe the place it has been is a radiation-filled area. Have you thought of that one?”

A smirking Jenks and Charlie pushed by the silent Russian. The good professor Gervais was next.

“Apologies, Colonel. I never thought of that,” the small, portly professor said in passing.

Salkukoff watched as the line of men entered the spaces. His eyes settled on the back of Jack Collins. He held his temper and stepped inside. He walked past Gervais with a small nudge.

“Don’t embarrass me again, Doctor.”

Jack and the others stopped as they came to the center of the room. Far beyond was the hatchway leading to the engine spaces. He nodded at Jason Ryan and two of the marines. “Go see what shape the power plant is in.”

“Go with them,” Salkukoff said to four of his own men. He gave Jack the briefest of smiles.

“What in the hell is that?” Jenks asked loudly enough for all conversation to stop.

Collins and the Russian colonel turned and saw what Jenks was seeing. Along both sides of the space was a thick glass partition. Behind that glass, only inches from the outer hull, was what looked like large lightbulbs. At least a million of them crowded the space. They looked to be situated on a conductive pad of ceramic. Wiring of every thickness ran from the ceramic platform to large consoles of dead indicator lights. They saw the workstations for at least fifty engineers. On the front of the twin aisles of electronics was what looked like a power generator. What was most disturbing to all was the fact that the stations looked recently occupied. Coffee cups with black coffee still inside, and tea glasses with the liquid still in them were everywhere.

“No dust, rust, or rot of any kind,” Charlie said as he picked up one of the glass teacups. The pewter stand that held it looked brand new. He quickly replaced it on the console he took it from. He saw a piece of bread on a small saucer and poked at it with his index finger. While not exactly fresh, it was still edible. He pulled his hand away and looked at the other faces of interest around him.

“The damn thing looks as if it were launched yesterday,” Everett said as he and Jenks looked closer at the workstations around them. Ryan picked up a clipboard and examined the Cyrillic writing.

One of the Russian commandos stepped forward and took the clipboard from Ryan’s hand. Jason looked angry but held his temper when Salkukoff stepped forward.

“Until we can get things worked out, we would rather not share much information. You understand, Colonel?”

“Shiloh to Colonel Collins. Shiloh to Collins, over,” came the voice of Ezra Johnson over Jack’s radio. At the same time, Salkukoff also got a call on his own walkie-talkie.

“Collins, go.”

“Colonel, CIC is picking up a spike on our infrared monitors. Sea temps have risen six degrees in the past ten minutes. Over.”

“Peter the Great has the same information. That combined with your Aegis defense system makes the information almost an absolute.”

Jack looked up at Salkukoff. “The timing of these spikes coincides with the lights coming on.”

“I think we can chuck coincidence out of the freakin’ window,” Jenks added.

“Chuck?” Professor Gervais asked.

“American slang for throw or toss,” Ellenshaw explained.

“Instructions, Colonel? Over.”

Collins again raised his radio to his mouth, but before he could say a word, the humming started. It was so intense that men had to quickly cover their ears. Then the lighting dimmed as the large lightbulbs sitting on their ceramic base started to glow softly.

One of the Russian commandos reached out and placed a hand onto the thick glass that separated them from the machine inside. The man was trying to steady himself from the onslaught of sound.

“No!” Jack yelled when he saw the movement.

Before anyone could react, a small bolt of electricity shot from the ceramic base of the machine, penetrated the glass, and slammed into the man’s hand. His body jerked, and a spasm coursed through him, and then he collapsed to the steel deck. All eyes widened when they saw the sparkle of light that coursed over the commando’s extremities. Then a loud pop was heard, and then the Russian soldier just vanished before their eyes. As suddenly as everything had started, it wound down. Lighting returned to normal, and then the bulbs inside the glassed-in chamber dimmed to almost nothing.

“Shiloh, Shiloh, this is Collins. Update on those readings, over.”

“Shiloh to Collins, we lost power momentarily but are back up. Readings are down to almost nothing. Sea temps still remain high.”

“Copy and stand by; out for now.”

Ryan and the Russian professor leaned over to the spot where the electrocuted man had been. There was a vague outline where he had fallen prone to the deck, but nothing else. Professor Gervais moved his hand over the cold steel of the deck and immediately pulled it back when the steel gave way by at least two inches. It was like poking a bowl of Jell-O. Then the deck solidified once more. Jason and Gervais looked up and then over at Collins.

Salkukoff smirked as if the joke were on Collins. “Before we start tossing accusations around, Colonel, perhaps we should—”

The sound of the generator starting to spin wildly filled the space. Each man knew this assault was different. Electricity filled the air. The smell of ozone wafted freely, and men started to gag. The bulbs inside the chamber flared to life once more, only this time they were so bright that they burned the eyes of those who turned that way. Each man, through natural instinct, hit the deck.

“Shiloh, Shiloh, seal the ship! Get every man belowdecks!” Jack screamed into the radio just as Salkukoff was doing the same with Peter the Great.

Suddenly, everyone felt the electricity shoot through their bodies. The noise was ear shattering, and the deck beneath them actually warped and became sickeningly pliable. The sound of the powerful generator nearly burst the eardrums of those closest to it. Charlie Ellenshaw screamed in pain and was soon joined by all.

The very air around the writhing men turned into a wave of nausea-filled movement and liquidity.

The last sensation Collins had was the feeling of falling.

Outside, the world was on fire. The burst of power from the Simbirsk flowed over and around the men on her upper deck. Those closest to the hatchway leading below vanished in a puff of blackened dust as those farther away just burst into flames. The towline to Shiloh melted and then snapped with a twang, sending the far end into the Shiloh and her riggers, slicing them in two. Then the heat wave struck Shiloh and sent her fantail high into the air until it came crashing down into the sea. Every one of the riggers burst into flame or was thrown into the boiling waters surrounding the large cruiser. Everything that was flammable on the outer decks melted or flamed so brightly it looked like a magnesium explosion.

Inside the bridge, Captain Johnson hit the deck hard, as did his control crew. Windows smashed inward, and then to the captain’s horror, he felt the deck beneath him start to tremble and then actually wave up like an early morning surf. It was like he was lying in a soft pool of water. Seeing this, one would think the deck and other steel members of the ship didn’t dance under them, but to the sensations the body felt, they were moving and felt almost as if the very atomic structure of the deck and hull was breaking down. Johnson tried to stand and, with much effort, finally managed. As he did, it felt as though the deck had become a piece of melting rubber. He looked out of the broken bridge window just as the Simbirsk vanished in a bright explosion of light and sound.

Before he could react, the USS Shiloh and her burning and battered Dutch escort ship, De Zeven, blinked out of existence 1.2 seconds after the Russian ship.

The pressure wave expanded outward. It was now a wall of water and heat that resembled a nuclear detonation. It traveled at the speed of sound outward from a spot that was now nothing but vapor and the largest whirlpool ever created on the surface of the world’s oceans. It was gaining power exponentially as it moved out and down.

The pressure wave was almost as intense below the sea as it was above. It caught Thorne and his crew unawares as the thump of seawater from above slammed into them. Lights went out, and the power plant screamed to keep her station between the Russian cruiser and his own surface assets. It wasn’t enough. Water lines broke, and the heavily welded seams of the boat started to be stretched beyond her engineering. Not one but two forward torpedo tube outer doors were twisted at such an angle that not only did her outer doors collapse, it warped the heavy pressure door inside. The interior forward spaces of Houston were now open to the sea.

“Emergency lighting!” Thorne said over the din of yelling men at their stations.

“Conn, sonar, we have a massive surface detonation. Unable to pinpoint at this time.”

Before Thorne could answer, the bow of Houston dipped down. Then they all felt the acceleration of the boat as it started a plunge for the seafloor two and a half miles below.

“Blow ballast. Give me full rise on the planes. All back full! Shut off those damn alarms!”

As the command was relayed, Thorne felt the bow fall to an even steeper angle of dive. He heard the two powerful GE nuclear reactors scream in protest as the engineering department took Houston to 115 percent power. She would either redline or explode in the next four minutes.

Then the real pressure strike hit. The stern of the Houston was thrown up and then actually overtook her forward momentum, and the giant attack sub somersaulted downward. Finally, her bow planes dug their teeth in, and Houston righted herself as the wave flowed past them.

“Helm’s not answering, Skipper,” XO Devers called out. He was bleeding from his head and was soaked after getting one of the many leaks shut down. “Engineering says we’re close to redlining.” All the men were injured in some way from their circular ride to the roof and then being slammed to the deck. Most quickly recovered and resumed their watch. They were now hanging on to their stations as the world tilted downward. What was even more disturbing was the fact that several of the crew felt their hands travel completely through their consoles. Their feet were also being sucked into the steel of her deck. As men nearly panicked, they looked down and around but could not actually see the deck and other solid objects bend or soften. It was if they were sensing it but not able to see it. Most thought they were hallucinating these factors.

Thorne grimaced, as he knew he was moments away from losing his ship. He quickly turned to the navigation console and studied the map. He then ran for the sonar shack. The run was downhill and totally out of control as the down angle increased. Thorne finally arrested his run and entered the tight space of the sonar room. He immediately saw the sonar supervisor was busy putting out an electrical short with a fire extinguisher.

“Captain, we’re at nine hundred feet, approaching crush depth.”

Thorne ignored the frantic call from the control room and instead leaned over the nearest sonar operator. His eyes moved rapidly until he found what he had been looking for. It was the same thing he had just spied on his navigation chart.

“Eleven hundred!”

“Jesus, we implode at twelve hundred,” one of the youngest operators said in a shaky voice.

“Stow that shit, mister,” Thorne said as he quickly calculated what it was he was looking at. He hit the intercom. “XO, fifteen degrees starboard. When I give the command, flood the aft torpedo room and give me full rise on all the planes!”

“Aye, Skipper. What do you have in mind?”

“I think we have to crash-land Houston.”

Without explanation, he called out to his sonar operators, “That mountain range, find me a shelf… now!”

“A what?” one of the operators asked in confusion.

“A place to land this damn thing!”

All four operators went facedown into their scopes until the one who had commented on their crush depth pointed. “Large shelf, bearing five degrees starboard.”

The order went out to basically call for Houston’s destruction. The venting inside the sealed and isolated aft torpedo room was open to the sea, weighing the stern of the giant submarine down and bringing her bow up. The powerful electric motor of the boat still screamed in reverse as Houston plummeted.

“Thirteen hundred and fifty feet!”

“Come on, come on. Rise, damn you, rise!” Thorne prayed aloud. Then into the intercom: “All hands, brace for impact!”

The USS Houston slammed into a shelf on the side of the Challenger Rise mountain peak. The long, ledge-like protuberance circled the mountain in a twisting road-like run downward. Houston hit at a little over thirty knots. Her bow plowed into the rock and sand with a noise like that of tearing paper and ripping steel. She bounced once, twice, and then finally came down on the small valley shelf, sliding to a stop only seven hundred feet from a drop of two and a half miles.

Captain Thorne never realized they had made it as the lights and Houston’s power plant shut down, along with the conscious minds of her entire crew. She settled onto the bottom with no power, and the sensation of a liquefied deck and hull plating once more became solid to those sailors who had become aware of it.

USS Houston was sitting alone on the bottom of a world that had changed around them in a momentary flash of brilliant light and sound.

Captain Kreshenko, along with his entire bridge crew, saw the devastation coming right at them. He saw through his binoculars the massive wall of water as it built in ferocity. He knew without thinking that the Simbirsk and the two NATO vessels had been destroyed as he had lost them soon after the bright burst of light from the area thirty miles out. The initial detonation looked momentarily as if a giant bubble of light had formed over the old Russian ship, and the American and Dutch surface vessels were caught in that bubble.

“Order the Admiral Levchenko to take the wave head-on!”

“Too late!” Dishlakov said as he watched in horror through the bridge windows. Kreshenko saw the heated wave of water and light as it struck the smaller destroyer and flipped her completely over from stern to bow, not once but twice. The tough old ship snapped into three sections and then settled into the calming waters. Then a tremendous explosion erupted underwater, and then that wave of destruction also reached out for Peter the Great. Just as both walls of water, electric-filled light, and fire reached them, every man ducked as the ship was caught in the massive bubble the Americans had experienced.

The captain’s last thoughts were wasted trying to grasp the might of the American weapon that had been used on them. They had fired on NATO ships, and this was their just reward for doing so.

Fire erupted over the deck of Peter the Great. Every man who was exposed burned to death or melted into her superstructure as the intensity of light and flames from the exploding destroyer consumed all flammable material just as it had on board Shiloh. Men scrambling to get belowdecks found their feet sinking into the solid steel plating of the decking. One man tripped and fell. His head and shoulders smashed into a bulkhead, and the upper portion of his body vanished. His legs kicked momentarily until he died. Others fell completely through to other decks far below. The sensation of pliability was no longer just that; it was real, and the Russian battle cruiser was experiencing it.

Kreshenko felt his ship roll to starboard and not right itself. He knew Peter the Great was going to capsize. The last sensation he felt was the rolling of the enormous cruiser and the strangeness of his own steel deck as it warbled and waved underneath him. He attempted to raise his head to give the order to abandon ship when the decking came up with his movement. It was like his face had been stuck in tar. He collapsed with his mind flowing in horrid understanding.

Then Peter the Great vanished in a flash of light that would have been mistaken for a nuclear detonation — if anyone would have been left alive to have witnessed it. The bubble of light that had emanated from Simbirsk engulfed them and then contracted to a smaller ball, and then the air and sky popped like a rubber band being stretched beyond endurance.

The sea inside the eye of Hurricane Tildy was calm and also void of all life — sea or land — for one hundred miles in all directions. Even aquatic life caught in the phase shift vanished beneath the waves.

As the North Atlantic began to settle, the outer edges of the eye of Tildy collapsed, just like a falling curtain. Its dark clouds flowed downward into the sea and upward into the sky as if some giant god had waved a magic wand and disbursed the hurricane. The darkness of the swirling clouds fell into the roiling waters, and then the storm and the clouds that made up her bulk dissipated and then vanished.

Hurricane Tildy was gone as if never there.

9

Jack awoke to men screaming in agony. As he tried to raise his head, he felt the skin on his cheek being tugged at. He pulled harder and then felt the searing pain as some of that skin was torn free. He shook his head and felt the area where skin had been. His fingers came away bloodied. He looked next to him as Carl was slowly rising from the same eerily pliable deck. Jack saw that Everett had lost some skin also but knew he was all right as he stumbled over to assist Ellenshaw, who was lying still over one of the engineering consoles. The calls for help came in English and Russian.

As for Colonel Salkukoff, he had been saved when he fell on one of his men. That man was now dead. Half in, half out of the floor decking. Others were in the same pose of death. But it became quickly evident that this effect did not apply to all areas of the mighty ship. Collins quickly deduced that the laws of physics did not apply to every scene of death. Some men were fried beyond recognition, while others had succumbed to the strange atomic makeup of the ship itself. Jack quickly looked for his team and was glad to see the master chief and Ryan had survived and were even now administering first aid to those who needed it.

Everett faced Jack, and at first, Collins failed to hear his words. He shook his head, and then Carl’s mouth movement started to make sense.

“Jack, come on. We have to get the hell out of here!”

Again, he shook his head and then nodded. “Grab everybody. Charlie, Ryan, help those men. Come on, Swabby, let’s go see if anyone else is alive.”

Around them, the sound of the powerful generators was winding down like some giant turbine. The ship felt as if the power had been drained and she was now starting to sleep after a major tantrum.

As the Royal Marines and Russians worked together, Jack and Carl, followed quickly by Salkukoff, started for the double hatchway. All three barreled past dead men who had either been melted into the deck or electrocuted. A quick estimate counted twenty-two men dead just belowdecks. They all knew there was no rhyme or reason to the extent of the deaths or what had caused them. Some parts of the ship were affected, while others had remained as they always were — solid and unflinching.

As they took the stairs two at a time, they heard the giant generator finally slam to a stop. Then the lights once more went out. This didn’t slow them, as Carl flicked on a powerful flashlight. After five minutes of fighting to get above deck, they were stunned at what greeted them. Dead men were everywhere. Even Salkukoff was taken aback at the power of what just happened. His briefings failed to explain just what the parameters of the old experiment had been. Now he knew. Whoever operated this phase shift system from the ’40s had given themselves a death sentence.

“Good God, Jack. What in the hell happened?”

When Collins didn’t answer, Everett turned and saw what it was that held his attention. The skies to the north, south, east, and west were clear of any cloud cover whatsoever. Hurricane Tildy had vanished as suddenly as it had arrived. The seas were calm and floating debris was the only leftover from the mighty hurricane. But all of this was not the disturbing factor. The ocean was a purplish color. Gone was the sea green of the North Atlantic. In its place, a light violet water world met their amazed gazes as its swells met the hull of the Simbirsk with a mild lapping sound.

Carl nudged Collins and nodded at what was floating to the surface and at their new surroundings. Jack then saw the bodies floating in the waters surrounding Simbirsk. The trail of dead sailors led straight to the USS Shiloh. She was listing heavily to her port side by at least fifteen degrees. There was no crew upon her outer decks. They saw the crashed and burned Seahawk helicopter just outside her hangar. It was a smoking heap of wreckage. Fires were raging across her deck. Even as they watched, several of her crew finally managed to break into the upper deck with fire hoses and suppression gear. They were fighting to save their ship.

Carl grabbed Jack’s arm and pointed to the starboard side of the Shiloh. There they saw the last visage of the Dutch frigate De Zeven as she slowly rolled over, the massive flames engulfing her superstructure, hissing as they hit the violet-colored waters. Her proud fantail raised high into the air and then silently slid into the sea. They saw a few of her crew surface and cry for assistance. Several of the Shiloh’s damage control teams threw lines into the water as they tried desperately to save their fellow sailors. At close to a half a mile away, Jack still had to hold Everett’s arm as he tried to make it to the railing to jump from the relative safety of the Simbirsk in an effort at saving the Dutch seamen. He angrily realized Jack was right and pulled his arm free.

Jack looked around him at their own situation. The Simbirsk, minus her casualties above on her main deck, had come through the battering intact. There were no fires and no damage other than to exposed personnel. Collins reached for the radio on his side and raised it to his lips.

“Collins to Shiloh, Collins to Shiloh, do you read?”

“It’s no use, Colonel. You’ll get no response.”

They turned and saw that Salkukoff was just replacing his own radio. He watched the effort across the wide expanse of the Shiloh’s crew battling their fires. He shook his head.

“Our radios, even your digital watches, aren’t working. It’s as if we were involved in an EMP burst. Electronics everywhere, with the exception of the sealed area down below, have been fried. Peter the Great is not answering. If not an EMP, I can only assume she’s gone also.”

Jack looked at the radio and confirmed that he wasn’t even showing a power light. He quickly gestured for Carl to throw him his radio, which had been switched off during the electronic ambush by the Simbirsk. He tried to call again with the undamaged radio but received no response from Captain Johnson.

“Carl, see if we can get a signal lamp up and running, I don’t care if you have to use smoke signals — I have to speak with Captain Johnson. We need a navy corpsman as soon as they can spare one.”

“You got it, Jack,” Carl said and then vanished into the bottom of the wheelhouse.

“How in the hell could we have suffered an electromagnetic pulse?” Collins asked aloud.

“Baffling, to be sure, Colonel,” Salkukoff said as he joined Jack next to the railing. “I estimate we lost well over half of both complements of our men.”

Jack nodded as he turned with the wish to see the conning tower of the USS Houston break the surface of the sea. But he knew there would be no way such a fragile boat could have withstood the powerful event they had just survived.

“However, I think the discussion of how and why can wait. In case you haven’t noticed, Colonel, the ocean is the wrong color.”

Of course Jack had noticed, but he wasn’t willing to think about the whys and why-nots of their current situation. The first priority was to save lives and then establish contact with Shiloh.

“Also, it seems our lady Tildy has given up her fight.” There was debris from their vessels, bodies, and other flotsam, but strangely, Jack saw what looked like palm fronds and other organic plantlike material you would usually see after a powerful storm had swept through.

“Yes, I did notice, Colonel.” Jack turned and faced the Russian. “Perhaps it’s about time we come clean here. This event is a variation on what conspiracy nuts in my country called the Philadelphia Experiment. What was yours called?”

“Operation Czar. I guess someone back in the day thought it witty to make something disappear like the czar and his family. Although it needed to be done, it was still all rather tasteless.”

“Rather tasteless? The murder of innocent children is just rather tasteless? We’ll have to get into detail about taste some other time,” Jack said angrily. “Until then, Colonel, maybe you didn’t notice, but look over there.”

Salkukoff turned in the direction Collins had indicated. His eyes widened when he saw what had made the American far paler than a moment before.

“Either we’ve been blown off course by about ten thousand miles and ended up off the coast of Hawaii, or we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

The island was green and beautiful. It sat in front of them like a postcard of some fabulous vacation spot only found in the South Pacific. Collins reached for his binoculars in their case and then raised them to his eyes. He could see birds and trees from their distance of five miles away. At this range, none of the species of bird could be discerned. The birds were just birds, but their feathered plumage was spectacular and stood out even from that distance, colors he had never seen before. The trees were an entirely different matter. They were tall and had thick branches halfway up and then at their crown. Some were the familiar palm trees, others unrecognizable. The rolling waves crashing against the island’s deep brown sands were violet and gleamed in the early morning sun. The most glaring sight was the rise of a small mountain at the exact center of the island.

“Where in the world are we?”

“I think the question is, what world are we in?” Jack turned away just as Ryan walked up to report.

“Thirty-seven dead. I haven’t had the time to count uniforms. But rest assured it’s most everyone.”

Jack patted Jason on the shoulder and then pointed to the island off their port beam.

“What the f—”

“You’re a navy man. Ever seen an island like that before?”

“No. The mountain alone is far too big for any island I’ve ever seen outside of Hawaii. It looks like a dormant volcano. What in the hell happened, and where are we?”

Before any answers could be thought about, it was Charlie Ellenshaw who stepped free of the wheelhouse with his mouth agape. He stuttered, and when he found no voice, he just pointed.

Jack, Salkukoff, and Ryan both turned and saw the most stunning sight any of them had seen since their nightmare had begun. The setting early morning moon was still visible on the horizon. Only it wasn’t exactly the moon they all remembered. The moon, which they had all stared at, kissed girls under, and marveled at her power and beauty, was still there, only it was now just a battered and smashed rock in space. Its white surface was broken into millions of smaller pieces, with the largest of these at its center. The rubble revolved around the ancient disk and spread out across the sky in a long tail of utter destruction. The moon had been smashed into gravel for the most part and looked as if the gravitational forces were turning it into a Saturn-like ring system around the largest section of the old moon.

“Colonel, may I suggest we get your Master Chief Jenks and my learned Professor Gervais down below and shut down that damn power plant before we go somewhere else we don’t really want to be?”

Jack didn’t answer, as he spied something that eased his mind somewhat. He pointed with a small smile on his face.

The USS Shiloh was breathing once again. Her engines sprang to life, and the roiling of white water churning at her stern told Jack they were once again under power.

“They’re signaling, Colonel,” Ryan said as he eased the binoculars from Jack’s hand.

Across the distance of a mile, Collins, Charlie Ellenshaw, and Salkukoff saw the flashing signal lamp from the starboard bridge wing of Shiloh.

“Will come about for assistance. Pulse shielding of most electronics worked as designed. Weapons system down. Communications down. Casualties heavy.” Ryan turned and faced the colonel. “They’re asking if we need medical assistance.” Jack only nodded, and Jason said he would get Carl to pass it along. Collins was as content as Charlie to stare at the comforting sight of the Aegis cruiser making her wide turn in the deep purple of this strange sea.

“She’s also reporting that all contact with the Houston has been lost.” Ryan lowered the field glasses and faced the colonel. He sadly handed the glasses back and then slowly walked away to help Jenks and Henri.

Jack watched the naval aviator and knew he was feeling the loss of the Dutch and American sailors on both vessels. Navy men took losses of ships very seriously.

As he turned back, Collins knew that De Zeven and Houston might not be the last to be lost. With one last look up at the shattered moon, Jack put his arm around crazy Charlie Ellenshaw, and then they went belowdecks.

“Let’s see if this Russian bucket has any of that American coffee we gave to Comrade Stalin back in the day.”

Ellenshaw smiled, agreeing that it would be nice to do a normal thing like drinking coffee.

As for Salkukoff, his eyes and field glasses were raised in an entirely different direction. They were trained toward the north and the line of smoke that rose from the violet-colored sea beyond the visible horizon. He only hoped it was his one remaining surface asset that he could count on.

He could only hope that Peter the Great was out there somewhere so he wouldn’t have to use his ace in the hole.

Three hours later, Shiloh was tied up alongside Simbirsk. No fewer than ten lines held the two ships mated together as the grisly task of collecting the bodies continued. Several corpsmen from Shiloh made the horrid task of removing the bodies from the deck where they had melted into the pliant steel. Three of these medical corpsmen were women, and Jack was proud that they were the only three who did not continuously vomit at their tasteless task.

Jack was watching the crew of Shiloh as they slid the remains of the Seahawk helicopter from the fantail of Shiloh, where it hit the water and then vanished. Collins felt his eyes slowly closing as the sounds of men and women working coupled with the soft lapping of the strange seas against the hulls of the two ships worked to relax him for the briefest of moments. The days without sleep were getting their revenge. He felt the tap on his shoulder. He turned.

“Thought you could use some of this,” Master Chief Jenks said as he handed Jack a clear glass cup of hot coffee. “Damn Russians don’t have real mugs on this tub, just tea glasses.”

Jack smiled as he accepted the coffee. “When we get back, we’ll file an official protest with the Russian government.”

Jenks nodded. He then faced the island five miles away and sipped coffee.

“Any theories or opinions?” Jack asked.

“Not a one, Colonel. But I do wish Ginny could see this ocean and that island. Be a good honeymoon spot if it weren’t for the circumstances.”

Collins lowered the coffee and fixed Jenks with a funny look. “I think you’ve got it bad, Master Chief. Imagine that the Big Bad Wolf has fallen hard for Little Red Riding Hood.”

“Ah, it’s nothing like that.” Jenks tossed out the black coffee with a grimace on his face. Then he faced Jack. “Yeah, I guess it is like that.”

Collins smiled and then nodded, finally realizing that the old crew-cut navy man actually was a human being.

“As for opinions and theories, I think you have to ask the nerd king about those. He has a far better grasp on that than I do.”

“Charlie?” Jack asked, frowning at the taste of the burned coffee.

“He says we are not on Earth anymore — at least our Earth.”

“Is that right?” Jack asked. The theory seemed to fit what they had witnessed thus far. He frowned again and then thought the better part of valor was to not drink any more of the seventy-year-old coffee, or at least coffee that was brewed inside a death ship. He handed Jenks the glass when he spied Captain Johnson on deck below them supervising the aviation fuel cleanup. He picked up the bullhorn.

“How is the chow over there?” he called out.

Johnson turned and saw the colonel for the first time. He waved and then accepted his own bullhorn. He raised it to his lips.

“The mess was the first thing we got up and running. You know the navy can’t function without coffee and a sandwich to shove down their necks.”

“That’s why the phone call, Captain. I don’t know if we can trust seventy-five-year-old canned beets and Spam.”

“I get your point. I’ll have the galley send over a hot meal and fresh coffee.”

“How are your electronics?” he asked through the high-pitched whine of the bullhorn.

“We should have communications and radar back up within the hour. We had the necessary circuit boards in ship’s stores. The weapons systems are something else. They are fried. So, for right now, we have only our .50-caliber and five-inch Bofors systems available.”

Jack lowered the bullhorn in exasperation. In the strange world they found themselves in, he was not happy about the weapons situation. “Captain, we need to get together and talk. Let’s get everyone on Simbirsk and figure out where we go from here. We should have some answers soon on just where in the hell we’re at.”

“Is that little toy of yours turned off?” Johnson said, not joking one bit.

“We think. But then it was turned off before this little adventure started, so we’ll see.”

“Then I reluctantly accept.” Johnson lowered his head and then spoke again. “Also, we have over one hundred men we have to get buried. May I suggest at sunset?”

“I’ll confer with our Russian guests and confirm.”

Johnson waved once more and then tossed the bullhorn to a passing sailor.

Collins turned to the master chief. “I’m getting real tired of burying kids.” Jack tossed the bullhorn to the deck, where Jenks retrieved it and then watched the colonel’s back as he sadly moved off.

“Amen to that.”

Captain Kreshenko prayed that the pumping and counterflooding would work. His warship was still listing at fifteen degrees to her port side after nearly capsizing after the initial wall of water, light, and heat had struck. He had had little time in feeling sorrow for the lives lost on the escort destroyer Admiral Levchenko. His ship had lost almost as many crew as their doomed escort. He was down 175 men from the assault of the American weapon.

“The pumps are catching up, and the counterflooding is working, Captain,” said a tired and worn Second Captain Dishlakov as he came into the shattered bridge of the giant cruiser.

Kreshenko saw the disheveled state of his first officer. The man was burned on the right side of his face, and his arm may have been broken, as he was holding his left with his right as he reported. The captain frowned as he took the man in.

“Now, your orders are to go below and get some hot soup and tea, Vasily. I’ll need you in the next few hours. Have the doctor check that arm, and get something for that burn.”

“I’m all right, Captain. We need to get our electronics suite up and running.”

“Communications is a priority at the moment.”

“What about our weapons systems?”

Kreshenko chuckled. “In case you have not noticed, my old friend, we lost. Our priority now is to communicate with Moscow and get our men home. First we have to make contact with the only naval force in the area and hope that tempers have calmed to the point where we’re not shooting at each other anymore. Besides, I’m still not sure if my ship can make it home, and I am not losing any more of my men to this craziness. We’ll go and find the Americans and hope we don’t have to fight this thing all over again.”

He saw the questioning look on Dishlakov’s face and tilted his head, waiting for his response. It took him only a moment.

“Captain, what about the color of the sea, the shattered moon?”

“I have no answers for that, Vasily. I am not that sure I want to know. We have to go on the assumption that it is all explainable and that our only duty is to these men aboard our ship.”

“Yes, Captain.” Dishlakov turned to leave.

“Vasily?”

The first officer stopped and turned, still holding his broken arm. “Sir?”

“If we get communications up, our priority is to contact Moscow, not our dear operational commander Salkukoff. Understood?”

“I never had any intention of contacting that arrogant son of a bitch… sir,” Dishlakov said and then saluted with his good right hand.

Kreshenko smiled at his friend and then turned his attention back to his damaged ship.

“Engine room reports engines are now operational.”

The captain turned to his chief engineer and nodded. “Okay, as soon as we have propulsion, get the air defense systems up and running.”

“Sir, we have no missile capability, and we won’t have. We don’t carry the necessary electronic stores aboard the ship. Moscow, in her infinite wisdom, never figured we would actually ever sustain damage from what we may assume was an EMP burst.”

“Imagine that — Moscow miscalculated. Wonders never cease, do they? But alas, the twenty-millimeter weaponry will have to do for offense and defense, now won’t it?”

“Yes, sir.” The man saluted and then quickly moved away.

Kreshenko felt the powerful engines spring to life beneath his feet. He took a deep breath as the mighty ship started to breathe once more. Her powerful generators started supplying far more than emergency power, and the ship sprang to electrified life.

“Helm, all ahead slow one-third.”

“Aye, all ahead slow one-third.”

“Steer south-southwest, fifteen degrees. Stay on course. Let’s get what weaponry we do have warmed up and ready. Let’s go find the Americans.”

Peter the Great started forward, her four massive bronze propellers churning the violet-colored waters at her stern.

She was going straight at the unsuspecting Americans.

10

Jack and Carl met Ezra Johnson at the gangway that had been placed between the Simbirsk and the Shiloh. It was Carl who broke the ice with the captain the navy way.

“The last time we met, Captain, I was a shavetail ensign and you were a JG, if my memory serves.”

The black captain smiled politely, but Everett knew the man didn’t remember some lowly SEAL from years back. Carl gestured the captain to join the team and their Russian counterparts near the fantail of the Simbirsk.

There had already been a flare-up between Captain Johnson and Colonel Salkukoff. Johnson refused to transfer his dead sailors over to the Simbirsk for burial. The exchange had become heated over the undamaged walkie-talkies when Johnson even insisted that the NATO contingent lost in the phase shift be transferred over to Shiloh for burial. It was Jack who had stepped in and told both parties to conduct separate services for each group. When the two men finally met face-to-face, the hatred was palpable. Johnson could not go lightly with someone who had fired on his ship and killed his men.

Johnson took his place at the table that had been set up at the fantail. Coffee and tea were served by the mess staff that Johnson had reassigned to Collins while they were aboard the Simbirsk.

Standing at the head of this table was an unlikely candidate to be chairing the meeting. Charlie Ellenshaw had come a long way since the Brazil mission, his very first field excursion. Crazy Charlie, a moniker that was being used less and less these days, adjusted his wire-frame glasses on his nose and then looked at Jason Ryan, who had just placed the portable Europa laptop on the table in front of Charlie. Jack caught the warning look from Jason to Charlie about the security surrounding Europa that Ellenshaw was using. The Russians could never learn about the supercomputer’s abilities. Charlie nodded as much to Jack’s satisfaction. The cryptozoologist looked down at Master Chief Jenks, and the cigar-chomping navy man nodded and gestured that he had the floor.

Jack watched the faces around the table. Salkukoff and Gervais were the only two Russians sitting in the meeting. Collins also noted that Henri Farbeaux was nowhere to be found. The Frenchman had been preternaturally silent during the last few hours. Jack had not questioned him about his orders from MI6 about what was expected of him. The less he knew about how and where Farbeaux would kill the Russian, the better.

“In the past few hours, we have made considerable progress in defining the technology of the phase shift equipment. I’ll leave that to Master Chief Jenks and Professor Gervais, who understand the science far better than I. My task was to discover just where it is that we find ourselves.” With a cautious look at Ryan, Charlie opened the laptop up and then turned it so most could see the screen.

“How fortunate you brought a laptop computer along that just happened to be shielded against an electromagnetic pulse.”

The portable Europa laptop was a closed-looped system that only used the standard hard drive for computing. Although the small device was not directly linked to the enormous system in Nevada, its computing power and memory rivaled most corporation databases; therefore, this laptop did not have to breach the differing planes in order for Europa to help them. Jack started to say something in explanation to Salkukoff, but surprisingly, it was Ellenshaw who held his hand up to stop Jack’s words.

“This is a military-grade system. So yes, it is shielded.”

Salkukoff didn’t say anything else. He just nodded in Collins’s direction as if to say, Touché.

“As I was saying, by directing our camera to the sky, our system was able to determine without a doubt that we are indeed on Earth. Not only that, the phase shift has done nothing other than alter the plane of existence. The time and distance is a constant. Nothing has changed.”

“Time and distance?” Salkukoff asked.

“Yes. What Professor Ellenshaw is saying is that we have not lost one minute of one day in the shift. It is the same date, the same time. Just our surroundings have changed.”

Salkukoff looked at the Russian professor and nodded.

On the computer’s screen was a picture of Earth with the representation Charlie and Europa Jr. had figured out for what their current Earth looked like. All heads leaned forward.

“As you can see, based on temperature and because of the shattering of the moon, the world is possibly covered in water with only the highest peaks on our maps showing. For instance, the island we see to the east is part of the Challenger Rise series of mountains in the North Atlantic. These mountains in our world are close to a mile below the surface of the sea. This tells us that somewhere in this world there are differing high water marks, perhaps brought on by massive earth movements and displacement. We just don’t have any of the answers yet.”

The screen was dotted with sparse islands of land speckled throughout.

“Where are the landmasses of our world?” Johnson asked. “I’ve climbed Mount Rainier, so where is it? Where are the Adirondacks? Where are the Blue Ridge Mountains?”

“From Professor Gervais’s and my own calculations, with the assistance of Master Chief Jenks, we have come to the conclusion that whatever happened to the moon destroyed most of the landmasses we know from our own Earth. Entire mountain ranges were swallowed whole. The Earth shifted on its axis, and we have what we see here today. We don’t have definitive answers here, gentlemen. It’s best-guess only, no real science to back us up. If we just had one or two weather satellites, we could get more concrete answers, but in the alternate world we find ourselves in, those satellites were never launched. We are truly on our own.”

“What about the ocean? Why violet?” Everett asked.

“We have analyzed the seawater. The color is produced through a series of different factors.” Charlie brought out a graph prepared by the portable Europa. He unfurled a long roll of paper. “As you can see, we have a varying number of different contaminants, from volcanic, sea life, and other organic minerals. Why violet? Your guess is as good as ours.

“That’s all we have on our environment for now,” Charlie said as he sat down and looked at Jenks, who made no move to stand up. He puffed on his cigar and then fixed Salkukoff with a withering glare. That look was followed by Henri pulling out a chair and sitting next to Ryan. Everett looked at Jack, and for some reason that look made the colonel wonder just what the Frenchman had come up with during his absence.

“The phase shift generator and application nodules have been disabled.”

“Application nodules?” Jason asked.

Jenks puffed on his cigar and then fixed Ryan with his intense stare. “Those lightbulb-looking thingamajigs, young captain. It seems our Russian allies were a little more advanced in 1944 than we were ever led to believe,” he said while fixing that stare onto Salkukoff. “It seems they had access to weapons-grade uranium long before we thought it possible.”

“I cannot answer for that; it was a little before my time,” Salkukoff said with a smirk.

Collins watched Henri as the Russian spoke. He was convinced that at least the Frenchman knew the Russian colonel was lying.

“Well, I took some scrapings from the conductor,” Jenks continued with a warning look toward Jack, “and what I saw was a bit surprising. The core material came from our own Hanford nuclear facility, the same batch as supplied to the University of Chicago and signed for by Professor Fermi himself. I would say someone of ill intentions grabbed some for comrade Salkukoff’s distant relatives.”

“How did you come to that conclusion, Master Chief?” Salkukoff asked.

“As I’m sure you know, comrade, every breeder reactor leaves fingerprints. That’s how we verified your atomic program in the ’50s was a legitimate concern. Your original stockpiles came in from the Ukraine. During our phase shift experiments, they didn’t have the correct power settings on board the USS Eldridge to get them anywhere but the shortest way to kill close to two hundred sailors. The Russians came along with a vast improvement, as they were able to get by the power restraints with the addition of stolen American enhanced uranium.”

“Yes, yes, the evil Russians once again thwart the forces of good in a time of war,” Salkukoff said as he tossed a pencil on the table. “I find your tone accusing and unacceptable. This should not concern us here, Master Chief Jenks. Can we get the cursed thing back on, and can we get home?”

“We have yet to determine that.”

Jenks waved to Charlie that he was done. He angrily threw his cigar over the railing.

“I want to know what this gentleman’s intentions are toward my NATO assignment,” Captain Johnson said. He had gotten a full measure of Salkukoff, and the captain found the Russian to be most disagreeable. The captain stood up and faced the Russian. “You fired upon my ship, sir.”

Salkukoff shot Jack a look as if Collins had betrayed him. Jack decided he wasn’t playing his game.

“I think the captain deserves an answer.”

Salkukoff kept his eyes on Collins. Then he too stood and faced Johnson.

“You and your NATO allies were in the process of stealing Russian state property. We stopped you from doing so — and will do so again at the conclusion of our mutual predicament.”

“That is an unacceptable—” Johnson began, but the emergency siren from Shiloh started blaring.

A runner came up and handed Johnson a message flimsy. His look from message to Russian was clear. He wadded the paper up and threw it at Salkukoff. Collins watched all of this as he stood.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Peter the Great has been spotted on the horizon; she’s coming on full speed.”

Collins looked at Salkukoff. “I think you’d better establish communications, Colonel, before your people start something none of us will survive.”

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t wait for this bastard to do the right thing. I have a ship and crew to protect.” Johnson left the table and ran for the gangway.

As the others gathered at the railing to watch the crew frantically throwing off lines, it was Salkukoff who came up to Jack and held out a handheld radio.

“Tell your Captain Johnson that Peter the Great has their orders; there will be no confrontation.”

Jack eyed the radio and then fixed Salkukoff with that blue-eyed glare that made the Russian very uncomfortable.

“You’ll excuse me if I side with Captain Johnson. Your trust points have slipped in the past hour. I think he’s going to err on the side of caution.”

Salkukoff smiled and then lowered his radio.

“Peter the Great is flashing a signal,” Everett said as he looked toward the horizon and the small pinpoint that was the giant cruiser as it steamed their way.

“She’s asking for a cessation of hostilities,” Carl said as he lowered his binoculars.

“Yes, Captain Kreshenko will follow orders. You can tell your nervous Captain Johnson we mean no harm.”

Jack remained looking at Salkukoff and then lifted his radio. “Captain, stand down.”

He saw the form of Johnson stop and then look back to the Simbirsk. Collins saw the captain staring up at him. Then the alarms stopped. Jack saw men lining the railing with small arms, and the .50-caliber and twenty-millimeter weapons started tracking Peter the Great as she came on.

“If that bucket has a working missile system, it doesn’t matter what we end up believing,” Everett said as he came up and stood by Jack.

“Forget it, Toad; they’re as useless on board that ship as they are on board Shiloh. If they were working, our little Russian ass over there would be a little more forceful in his welcoming of his boys.”

“I hope you’re right, Jenks,” Jack said. “If not, I just ordered those men to stand down and die.”

“He’s not wrong. Salkukoff would never give away an advantage like that. He’ll wait to attack us when we get ready to attempt leaving. He will hope to leave us here.”

They all turned and looked at Farbeaux as he approached.

“He’ll do nothing as long as we have most of the brainpower working to get us home.”

“What makes you—” Ryan started to say.

“I’ll leave that to you, Colonel.”

Ryan looked at Jack and wondered what it was he knew that his security department didn’t. Then he looked at the cold way Henri was looking at the back of Salkukoff. Collins broke away from the Americans.

“Colonel, flash message Peter the Great. Lay up alongside Shiloh and have this Captain Kreshenko join us aboard Simbirsk.”

“Wise decision, Colonel.”

Jack didn’t say anything as Salkukoff passed along the message. He walked away where he was joined by Farbeaux and Everett.

“Jack, it’s damn obvious this Salkukoff is out to get their little science project back.”

Collins looked from Carl to Henri.

“That is exactly what our friend here is going to stop, preferably in the nick of time.”

Henri said nothing as he watched the specter of Peter the Great grow ever bigger as she approached.

“What is it, Colonel?” Carl asked when Farbeaux said nothing.

“I believe it will be a matter of who kills who first.” Henri smiled that unsettling smile he had. “Number one, he knows exactly why I am here. Number two, he has the same death order as we do. Only his is far more encompassing in scope. Whoever is pulling this man’s strings has given him orders to kill us all.”

Henri Farbeaux let that sink into the Americans’ psyche as he walked away and joined Charlie Ellenshaw. Jack, Carl, and Jason Ryan watched the Frenchman leave.

“What do you think, Jack?” Carl asked.

Collins laughed aloud as he watched Captain Johnson unhappily order his crewmen to tie Shiloh back up to Simbirsk.

“What do I think? I think we’d better listen to that man’s opinion when he says Salkukoff is out to secure this ship.” He turned and faced his two friends. “And when it comes to lying and killing, Henri has the upper hand on us all. I think I’ll go with the colonel’s hunch.”

Everett exchanged looks with Ryan.

“Oh, that makes me all jittery inside.”

“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

“No, of course not,” Carl answered as Jack walked away. “We have our intrepid hero Farbeaux calling the shots. What could possibly go wrong?”

Jason looked down at the violet waters of this strange sea. He said nothing about the pessimistic view shared by the captain. He looked again at the water and the far-off island.

“Okay, Mendenhall, this is one time I would be happy to trade places with you.”

In the far-off distance, Peter the Great started blasting her collision horn, announcing her imminent arrival.

Suddenly, the strange violet sea of this new world was getting ever more crowded.

Captain Thorne accepted the clean shirt from his XO. He started to put it on and then saw that Gary Devers was waiting.

“Oh, sorry. The two bodies have been removed, and we managed to get the outer doors closed to the forward torpedo compartment. The torpedo room is useless to us. The aft torpedo room has been pumped free of water and will be operational within the next four hours.”

“I’ll trade the torpedo room for ballast control in a heartbeat.”

Thorne finished buttoning his shirt and then faced his XO. “Still no luck?”

“We’re trying to cross match the circuit boards from fire suppression to ballast control. No luck thus far. We do have good news on communications. We were able to get the radio up, and the ELF is breathing again. Nothing but static.”

“After we get the remaining forward spaces clear of water, try the boards from the pumps. Strip them if you have to. We’ll have just one shot at getting off this shelf, and I want all options covered as best as we can get.” Thorne left the aft torpedo room before the corpsman and his men cleared the two bodies, which was something Thorne wanted not to see at the moment.

“Skipper?”

Thorne stopped and waited for Devers.

“The crew thinks we were nuked. Or at the very least our surface fleet was nuked. I think they need a word.”

“A word about what? That we don’t know anything yet?”

“I was thinking—”

“Stop thinking, Commander. Let the crew think what they want at this time. We don’t know what happened, and I’m not about to lie to them and say it was the hurricane — which, by the way, according to water conditions, has vanished. Why do I want to scare these kids any more than they already are?”

“I see your point, Skipper.”

Thorne was starting to turn away when he stopped and lowered his head. He turned with a half smile on his lips.

“Gary, right now I’m afraid my voice will betray the fact that I’m as scared as hell. That won’t help anyone. I want them, hell, I need them to believe we can get this boat up and out of here, not what it is they will face when we do surface.”

“Yes, Skipper, I understand.”

Thorne smiled and then turned away. He picked up a phone outside the aft torpedo room after he heard his engineering officer ask for him.

“Thorne.”

“Reactors are breathing again, Captain,” reported the reactor officer.

Before Thorne could answer, he heard the main ventilators kick in. He felt the cool air and closed his eyes. He then heard the washing machines in a far-off compartment start up and a loud cheer erupted throughout the boat. He opened his eyes at the sound of cheering, and then he winked at XO Devers. One of his biggest worries was the horrible thought that after both his reactors had scrammed, they wouldn’t be able to get them back up. He felt the relief flood through him just as the main lighting came blaring to full life.

Devers watched as Thorne lowered the phone without saying anything further to the reactor officer. He eased the phone from Thorne’s hand.

“Well done, Lieutenant. Now let’s see if we can get ballast control back up. One step at a time, boys. One step at a time.” He reached out and hung up the phone. He saw Thorne was still holding his head down, and the first officer knew his captain was relieving himself of some of the doubts that had crept into his thinking. He saw his shoulders slump and knew he was trying to control his emotions. He patted the captain on the back and moved forward without him.

“To all crew members. The movie tonight will be Poseidon starring Kurt Russell. All personnel off duty may attend.”

Devers heard the crew give out a cheer. He knew it was just an announcement, but it was a normal announcement. And that was good.

USS Houston was not only breathing once again — it was starting to come back to life.

11

The motor launch ferrying Captain Kreshenko and his first officer over to the Simbirsk rode lightly over the small swells of ocean. Sailors from Shiloh lined her rails after transferring freshwater to the old Russian cruiser to see the great warship up close. Her missile launchers gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight. She was prickled with defensive armaments that looked far more operational than their own. They watched as the Russian sailor tossed one of the Americans a line until Kreshenko and Dishlakov could hop from the whaleboat to the gangway. They were met at the top by Colonel Salkukoff. The three men saluted, and then the colonel gestured for them to follow. Introductions were made, and then the inevitable confrontation between warring sea captains reared its ugly head. Johnson refused to salute the Russian captain.

“What gave you the right to fire upon my ships and aircraft?” Johnson asked angrily.

“The right of any captain to defend his territory, and this ship is Russian territory.” Kreshenko gave Captain Johnson a wide berth.

“That subject will remain closed for the moment, gentlemen. We’re here to find out if we can get these sailors home without killing everyone.”

All eyes went to Jack Collins. Of the eleven men standing at the fantail, it was Kreshenko who looked perplexed.

“What do you mean?” he asked Salkukoff in Russian. The quick exchange registered with everyone when the color drained from Kreshenko’s features. He leaned against the steel cable that wound around the Simbirsk. He looked to be in shock.

Jack took this time to face Captain Johnson. “Look, I know you are angry, Captain. But I need cooperation from these men. Until I get it, you will cease trying to pick a fight that we cannot win at the moment. Besides, you’re accusing the wrong man of firing on your assets. The man you want, the one who gave orders, is that man right there.”

Johnson saw that Collins was pointing at Salkukoff. Johnson grimaced, but he quickly relented and just nodded.

As the group settled in once again around the table, it was Jack who tried to calm things down and bring the men leading this insanity to some form of compromise. He specifically looked at Henri Farbeaux. He had not said much since meeting Salkukoff in person, and Jack knew that not knowing what was on in the Frenchman’s mind usually led to major trouble.

“Captain, welcome aboard. While we can argue rights of salvage forever, I believe the problem at hand should take precedence.”

There were nods around the table, but mostly from the American contingent. The Russians placed poker faces on their countenances.

“Captain, I am proud to say that Master Chief Jenks, Captain Everett, Mr. Ryan, and I served with your half brother during the Overlord operation.”

Captain Kreshenko stood and nodded toward Jack and then simply sat down.

“Before we get into our mutual problem, we have to discuss the defensive posture while we are in this situation. Captain, may I assume you are having the same difficulties as ourselves in regard to the EMP invasion of our integrated systems?”

Kreshenko looked at Salkukoff, who gestured that he should answer the question.

“Yes, all defensive and offensive missile weapons systems are down. We don’t have the necessary replacement boards in ship’s stores. Like your Shiloh, we have only close-in weapons. Basically, small arms.”

“Thank you, Captain, for being honest. As you may have heard, we are in the same boat, no pun intended.”

Kreshenko looked at Salkukoff, and he said that the small pun was nothing to even think about. It seemed the American sense of humor evaded the Russian captain.

“We currently have both weapons officers from Peter the Great and Shiloh evaluating the sixteen-inch gun system aboard Simbirsk. They seem to think those big guns might do us more harm than good if we attempt to fire them. They’ll keep going on their evaluations until they are told otherwise.”

“Captain Johnson, with your command boards for the Aegis system down, do you still have drone capability?” Jack asked, trying to get Johnson back on track as far as cooperation went.

“We had to change out transmitter boards on the Raytheon drone. We cannibalized three personal cell phones and a navy satellite phone, but she’ll be up and running within the hour.”

“Good. We’ll need it. I want that island scouted.” Jack turned to Salkukoff. “Colonel, now that we know that weapons-grade uranium was used in the process for the phase shift experiment, how safe is it for my people and yours to be working around it?”

“I would think at this point safety is the least of our concerns. Are not all hands expendable in this endeavor?”

Most faces registered shock around the makeshift conference table. Jack remained standing while facing down this cold-blooded man he knew was not hesitant to kill or maim those in his way. Jack leaned forward with his hands planted firmly upon the tabletop.

“Let me make this clear to you, Colonel: where we come from, no one is expendable. You may blame politicians or think-tank generals, but never assume a field commander will ever give up the life of his people willingly. I repeat, there are no expendables on this or any ship here.”

Salkukoff just smiled. He nodded at Jack, and the colonel felt the Russian was merely mocking him. If truth be told, he felt like shooting the bastard right in front of everyone.

“Radar. Both Peter the Great and Shiloh. Gentlemen, not knowing what’s out here can kill us all. Besides the drone, we need an early warning system up and running. Captains, make that a priority.” He faced Captain Kreshenko and his first officer, Dishlakov. “Captain, right now, we have to throw off any animosity we may have toward each other. If we cease our cooperation, none of our men, mine or yours, will ever see home again. For most of us around this table, that may not affect too many lives. But we all have kids out there who do have families, who do love their children, and they want to get home. They don’t want to get into a pissing contest. That stuff is for the real world, not this one.”

Kreshenko looked at Dishlakov. Barely understanding the language, he raised his brows in question.

“He means we don’t need to see who has the biggest muscles,” Charlie said, clarifying the “pissing contest” comment.

Jack was just getting ready to get people back to work when again alarm bells started to sound, and men started running to prepositioned action stations aboard Simbirsk.

“Watercraft coming in from the south!” an American lookout from Shiloh shouted.

Jack and the others went to the railing. Carl handed Collins a pair of field glasses.

“Where away?” Carl called out as he raised his own glasses to his eyes.

“Ten points off the stern,” a Russian sailor called out.

Jack had trouble finding them. Then Everett nudged Jack. “To the right, coming right at us.”

Collins adjusted his view, and there they were.

“Holy shit,” Ellenshaw said as he became excited and wrested the binoculars from Master Chief Jenks, who scowled.

“Look at them all,” Captain Kreshenko said aloud. “Amazing. It’s as though we are in the South Pacific.”

Seven hundred yards away, riding low in the water, the reason for them to get so close without the lookouts seeing them, were at least a hundred small boats. Some were larger than others, but most were no more than thirty-five feet long. They had sails and outriggers, the sort used by fishermen all around the world. The sails were brightly colored in flashes of orange, blue, and yellow. The larger of these boats rode in the center of the teeming mass. The smaller boats surrounded the larger in a protective cocoon.

“Count?” Jack asked as he scanned the insides of the boats for the first time.

“I have one hundred and twelve small boats and six large. No armaments visible,” Everett called out.

“I have the same count,” said Dishlakov.

Charlie was aghast. “Armaments?” He quickly moved away from the railing and faced Jack. “Colonel, it’s obvious that these people are fishermen. These people are like the Jundiai fishermen in the Galapagos Islands. They use the larger boats for hauling the smaller boats’ catches. That’s all. Colonel, do these people no harm.”

“Calm down, Charlie,” Collins said as he centered his glasses on the largest, middle boat.

“My God. Look at their skin color,” Dishlakov said.

Collins focused and saw that the skin color was perfectly white. The people were small, maybe five foot or a little more, and their hair was blond. As the boats came closer, the men on the Simbirsk could see the newcomers’ curiosity was as great as their own. Heads moved, popped up, and they jabbered, but they soon calmed as they came alongside Simbirsk.

The fishermen came close, but their sails remained unfurled, and they slowly started to slide past the giant warship.

“Mud — they use it to protect their skin from the sun and sea. That’s why they’re white skinned.” Charlie turned to Jack and Carl with a large smile on his face. “They’re almost prehistoric. This is amazing!”

Several of the officers lining the railing stepped back when they heard Ellenshaw’s words of excitement. They all had the same smiles and inquisitive looks on their faces as they watched the strange, thin, white-haired man dance a jig. Jack couldn’t help it; he smiled at Everett. Charlie was in his element. He lost his smile when Charlie started waving his hands in greeting.

Jack watched the first of the boats slide past. The small fishermen of the largest boat just looked up at them, less excited to see the strangers than they were to see them. As Collins watched on, the small man standing at the front of his boat — Collins could see that this was their leader — simply watched the strangers in their high perch on board Simbirsk. The thin, bearded man looked up, and their eyes met. Still the boats silently slid by. All eyes of this indigenous people looked up with what could only be described as mild curiosity. They saw the large men looking down on them as they sailed past with their massive haul of fish, but the strangers held no more interest to them than a large log in the water would in regard to their safely navigating their way.

Charlie became quiet as the last of the boats slid by and toward the island five miles away.

“What is it, Charlie?” Jack asked.

“The fish inside the larger of the boats. I didn’t recognize any species. Of course, I was not as close as I would have liked to have been. Still, I failed to recognize any of those fish.”

“Captain, what do you say we get that drone in the air and see what our fishermen are up to on that island?”

Johnson nodded and left.

Jack’s eyes then went to Colonel Salkukoff. The man was just watching the fishing fleet as they became smaller as they went home. His eyes finally looked up, and he saw the American looking at him. The Russian held the look momentarily, and then Jack watched him walk away with Captain Kreshenko in tow.

Carl and Farbeaux came up to Jack, and they all watched the Russians walk away.

“Gentlemen, what are your impressions of Captain Kreshenko and his man Dishlakov?”

“Typical Russian Navy,” Carl said as he watched the retreating backs of the Russians.

“There is hatred, or at the very least a stern dislike there, I think,” Farbeaux offered.

“I agree. Kreshenko didn’t fire on Shiloh and her escorts, and he didn’t order us shot down. That order came from Salkukoff, and the Russian captain resents it.”

“Precisely my thoughts,” Farbeaux said.

“Henri, I wasn’t too thrilled with that order MI6 passed on to you. No man should be placed in that situation.” Jack turned and faced the Frenchman. “But that man cannot return with us. I think the world would be a better place without him.”

No more words were said as the announcement was heard coming from Shiloh.

“Prepare to launch drone.”

An hour later, Captain Johnson was throwing a fit. A US Marine guard stood in front of the hatch leading to the combat information center and refused to allow the two Russians inside the extensive and far-reaching advanced electronic center. Pictures and visitors were not ever allowed inside because they could compromise the security of the Aegis combat system. No Russian had ever even seen a drawing of the advanced radar and control apparatus.

“Captain, I will take full responsibility. Make sure none of your Aegis systems are in operation for the duration of their visit. Nothing but dark screens. But they must be allowed inside so they can independently verify what it is the drone will see. We need their trust and cooperation. Master Chief Jenks and their Professor Gervais are pretty close to discovering why that damn phase shift engine keeps coming on by itself. We will eventually need it to turn on when we want it to. For that, we need Gervais. He knows more about the mechanics involved than the master chief.”

“Stand down,” Johnson told the two marines. “I will enter the visit in the ship’s logbook.”

Jack watched the captain open the hatch, and then he and the others went into the most highly secretive compartment in any US Navy vessel — the Aegis Control Room.

Everett nodded when he saw that not only were the monitors and main screen of Aegis shut down, they were also covered with tarps to keep the Russians from viewing the Aegis brain. Carl’s eyes went from Salkukoff to the Russian seamen. The captain and Dishlakov were wide-eyed at the CIC. This was nothing compared to what they had to work with. Kreshenko could not believe they lived in the same advanced world as the Americans.

“The time is coming where we will have such toys, Captain.”

Kreshenko looked down and saw that it was Salkukoff who had spoken.

“The question then is, how many people will he kill to get this technology?” Dishlakov said as he joined his captain. Kreshenko said nothing but watched as the colonel walked away and stood next to Collins.

“What have you got, Mr. Franks?” Johnson said as he approached a console with a lone officer manning a joystick. The large main display screen was on, and all eyes went there.

“Approaching the island right now, Captain. Professor Ellenshaw, you requested contaminant readings — we have them here.” The remote control pilot, a lieutenant, pointed to data scrolling across the screen in bright green letters. “Our sensors are within 5 percent plus or minus accuracy. They were just recalibrated before we left for Operation Reforger IV.”

Charlie adjusted his glasses, and Jack watched the green lettering scroll across his wire-rimmed glasses.

“No radiation and no contaminant particulate,” Charlie mumbled as Jack tried to hear. “No pollution of any kind.” Again, Ellenshaw pushed his glasses back up. “I wish the master chief were here. I think he would find this ash count interesting.”

“Why?” Salkukoff asked before Jack could.

“Sulfides, fluorides, and pumice — a lot of volcanic discharge. If I didn’t know better”—he turned and smiled at Jack—“I would say that we were looking at what the air quality would have looked like during the early Bronze Age. Heavy volcanic activity is the indicator.”

“In the North Atlantic?” Carl asked.

Ellenshaw smiled. “You mean our North Atlantic, or this one?” Charlie sniffed and then saw that Carl wasn’t smiling.

“Look at that beach,” one of the US Navy crewmen said as he pointed at a scene that looked as if it had been taken recently at one of the more fabulous Hawaiian resorts. The beach was wide, and the sands were the color of soft mocha chocolate. The drone rose higher. The beach was littered with palm fronds and other detritus that scattered on dry land after a major storm. They all noticed that the hurricane had touched this world as it had in their own. Most wondered if it was the same hurricane that had affected their world and started by the Simbirsk.

The palm trees were the predominant species of plant in and around the beach area. The more the drone flew into the island’s interior, the more varied the species. Plants of every size and shape engulfed the green island.

“Look at that,” Everett said as the drone passed over a large village.

From an altitude of eight hundred feet, the Raytheon propeller-driven drone displayed an amazing sight. The village was huge. Grass huts, some large, some small. Community buildings and boats. A large, violet stream-fed lagoon at its center. But most amazing of all were the hundreds upon hundreds of men, women, and children going about their late-afternoon chores. Fish cleaning, boat repair, children playing, and wives cooking. The camera zoomed in, and they saw these people closely for the first time. They were heavily tanned, and there were indeed several varying races of humans. All small, but some were tanned heavily, or Caucasian as far as they could see, while others were black.

“Mixed raced. That in and of itself means we are in a very special place.”

Jack looked at Charlie, who studied the scene far below the drone with a rapturous eye.

“How do you mean, Doc?”

“I mean, in our own shared history, differing races rarely mixed before the advent of trade and travel. This… this is amazing.”

“There could be another explanation, Doc,” Everett said aloud.

Charlie again pushed his glasses up on his nose and then turned and faced the captain.

“What is that?”

“Mutual defense against a common enemy,” Salkukoff said.

The men around the remote control console became quiet as the drone moved over the large village. Only Salkukoff looked annoyed at the direction of the summarization by Ellenshaw.

Ryan entered the CIC and joined the group.

“Colonel, according to Charlie’s data,” he leaned in and whispered, “we have four hours until sunset. Maybe we should take a Zodiac over and introduce ourselves. As the security liaison on this mission, I find it vital to see if this asshole is right about a common enemy. Because if these peaceful-looking fishermen have bad guys they’re afraid of, I have a feeling we won’t like them very much ourselves.”

Before Jack could comment on Ryan’s suggestion, the remote operator brought the drone to a higher altitude, and then all conversation stopped.

On the large monitor, a long line of natives was returning from the large mountain that rose high at the center of the island. The trail they traveled was wide and worn. The travelers upon this road had large baskets strapped to their foreheads, and those baskets were large enough that they ended only at the smalls of their backs.

“Well, it looks like they have more than just fishermen. Is that villagers gathering food from the mountainside?” Jack asked aloud.

“No, I don’t think so,” Charlie said as he squinted toward the screen. “Lieutenant, could you get a better shot at a lower altitude?”

The naval officer complied, and the picture from the drone’s camera system shifted as the operator sent the sixteen-foot-long aircraft into a shallow dive and then brought the zoom lens in tight on the long line of women, children, and men.

“Not gatherers.” Charlie looked away from the picture and then faced Jack. “Mining, perhaps.” He pushed his glasses back upon the upper portion of his nose.

“Well, we suspect fishing, and now they may be mining something. Ryan is right; maybe we’d better get in a boat and make a courtesy call on our hosts. They didn’t seem hostile up close, at least the fishermen didn’t,” Jack said as he faced his team as the remote drone rose back up into the sky and then circled the large village.

“Uh-oh,” the remote control officer said as they all looked at the screen. “I think our little spy mission has been found out.”

On the screen, all the faces of the villagers were turned skyward as the miners made their way into the camp. All eyes were turned upward as the noise of the propellers cutting the air gave them away.

“Sorry, Captain. Flew a little too low.”

Women scrambled to get their children inside. Men and others pointed toward the drone and gestured animatedly.

“Bring her back to the barn. We’re scaring these people,” Johnson said, slapping the young lieutenant JG on the back.

“I think we should not concern ourselves with these island people nor fear scaring them. They have nothing to do with our predicament.”

Jack looked from the retreating drone on the screen to Salkukoff. He thought about not saying anything but decided that he really despised this man.

“Colonel, we like to learn things. Aren’t you Russians always saying knowledge is power?”

“Yes, we are, Colonel Collins. But we also have a limit to cooperating with people who don’t make it a priority to return to our own world. I suggest we concentrate on getting the phase shift equipment operational and leave this place.”

The colonel got up and abruptly left the CIC. After a moment, Kreshenko and Dishlakov stood to follow. The captain paused and faced Jack.

“Colonel, I would very much like to accompany your landing party if you’ll have me.”

Jack only nodded his assent. The Russian captain returned the gesture and then made for the hatch.

“Captain?”

Kreshenko faced Collins once more.

“Make sure your boss comes along also.”

The Russian raised a brow and then placed his saucer cap on his head and left with Dishlakov right behind him.

Once outside, the Russian XO turned to his captain.

“Why does he want Salkukoff with you?”

The captain smiled. “Because Colonel Collins feels the same as ourselves. He knows Salkukoff cannot be trusted. And that the man is possibly insane.”

Dishlakov watched the captain leave to prepare to accompany Collins and his shore party.

“Stand by to launch Zodiac. Marine force X-ray report to departure ramp.”

The USS Shiloh prepared for their first friendly invasion of a country not of their own world.

The large Zodiac held twenty-five men: Jack, Ryan, Everett, Henri, Jenks, Farbeaux, Charlie Ellenshaw, Second Captain Dishlakov, Captain Kreshenko, and Colonel Salkukoff, accompanied by seven US Marines, four British Royal Marines, one navy motorman, and three Russian commandos. They sped toward the island. Jack had ordered the officers to only carry small arms. The US Marines carried their sidearms and M4 assault rifles, the British their ever-present Heckler & Koch automatic assault rifles. The Russians had the standard-issue stockless AK-47. Jack had specifically ordered the M60 machine gun removed from the mount at the head of the rubber boat.

The Zodiac made little noise as the 150-horsepower motor allowed the Zodiac to slide along the top of the violet seas efficiently. Jack watched the shoreline as it grew ever larger. There was no one on the beach throwing spears at them. At least not yet, he thought. Still this new world seemed so preternaturally silent. Collins turned and faced the security element of their landing party.

“The NATO marine and Russian security detail will stand by the boat and keep radio contact. The officers will approach the village alone. We don’t need the natives getting jumpy. Remember, we still do not know if this is the first time they will have encountered people from our world.” He shot Salkukoff a look, and the Russian just smirked knowingly as always. “So, your element will secure the boat and listen for signs of trouble.”

The Zodiac actually picked up speed the closer to the brown sands they got. The bow struck the softness of the beach, and then the rubber craft slid easily and noiselessly onto the shore. Jenks was the first one out. He quickly tied the boat off on a tree trunk that had floated onto the silent shores and then looked at the screening palm trees that guarded the interior like a wall of browns and greens.

“What a sight,” Jenks said as Charlie joined him. “Ginny would have loved this.”

Ellenshaw smiled when the master chief mentioned Virginia. Charlie had yet to express to the assistant director how pleased he was for her and the gruff lifelong navy man.

“Of course, she would be complaining that these folks have it bad because they don’t have lights and a running toilet, but other than that, I think she would love this joint. Hell, Doc”—he slapped Charlie on the back, nearly dislodging his glasses—“this is better than old Subic Bay on a Saturday night!”

Ellenshaw really didn’t understand the reference about the wild naval base in the Philippines of yesteryear. He just smiled for the master chief and his impending happiness.

“Great place for a Marriott,” Jason Ryan said as he took in the beauty of the scene before him.

“Oh, come on. Only a navy man like you would put a damn tourist trap in a place like this,” Jack said as he placed his hands on his hips and studied the terrain. “Gunny, place two men just inside the tree line and wait for our return.” He turned and faced all the security element. “There are to be no outward hostile acts. We’re visitors here and come uninvited, so act accordingly.” Jack noticed only the British Royal Marines and their American counterparts nodded. The Russian commandos looked to Salkukoff for confirmation.

Kreshenko interpreted Jack’s orders for the benefit of the Russian commandos.

“Rules of engagement, Colonel?” the gunnery sergeant asked.

Collins looked around at the tranquillity of the island. “Yes, your ROE is this: run if fired upon or confronted in any way. We’ll hook up by radio if things go south. These people are not to be harmed for any reason.”

“No shooting,” the large marine said, loud enough that everyone heard, even the black-clad Russian element.

Jack waved the officers forward, and the visiting team stepped into a world that had not existed on their own planet in over one hundred thousand years.

12

Collins, Everett, Ryan, and the other professional military personnel felt the eyes on them from the moment they stepped into the trees lining the brown shores. They moved steadily through the exotic landscape, with Charlie Ellenshaw the only member of the landing team to actually stop and appreciate the vast array of botany and fauna that no longer existed on their own plane of existence.

“Colonel, some of this vegetation and many species of flower have not existed in our world for many thousands of years,” he said as he gently held a flower up that none of them had ever seen before. “This is a far more familiar landscape of Antarctica two hundred thousand years ago than is indicative of today’s fauna.”

Jack turned and faced Ellenshaw and placed a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. He glanced at the Russians. The three men acted as though they failed to hear the professor’s observation, but he wasn’t so sure. For all he knew, Salkukoff knew all about their little time travel journey into the past. Nonetheless, Charlie got the hint.

“Tell me, Doc, why do you think this fauna survived here and not on our world?” Ryan asked. Jack knew he did it to get the conversation off Antarctica.

“My main suspect would be, of course, pollution and oxygen content. They haven’t had to deal with greenhouse gases and contaminants the way our world has.”

As Jack moved through the bush, he suspected that Charlie’s observations were right on.

There was movement ahead, and Everett held up a fist, bringing the small safari to a stop. Carl went down to one knee and waited. It wasn’t long before the crashing of bush and leaf became louder, and then they all heard the sound of laughing. They all knew the sound of children.

Jack looked back at the three Russians. Salkukoff was the only one who had drawn his gun. Collins caught his attention and shook his head and held his gaze until the colonel replaced the weapon into his shoulder holster. The look lasted a moment longer as Salkukoff continued to stare at Jack.

Before Everett could react, a child burst through a stand of small trees and right into his thick arms. The young boy was followed by two giggling girls of about the same age. After Carl caught the boy, he fell backward until the child was on top of him. The girls crashed into the scene, and that was when the startled screaming started.

“Damn!” Collins hissed. For the first time in years, he was caught off guard and was slow to react. How do you stop little girls from screaming without scaring them even further? As he watched, frozen to his spot, he saw that Carl was doing the only thing he knew to do. He held his hands up in the air, allowing the boy child to stand up and scramble backward. The two girls took their partner by the hand and then quickly disappeared into the underbrush of junglelike trees and undergrowth. Carl fought to his feet with his eyes wide.

“I think you scared her, Captain,” Salkukoff said as he stood from where he had been kneeling.

“Well, I—”

Everett caught Jack’s look, and it wasn’t because he was staring at him. It was the fifteen long, pointed spears that poked through the small palms and bushes. Collins pointed, and Everett turned right into the sharpest spear tip he had ever seen. Again, and for the second time in as many seconds, he raised his hands into the air and took a step back.

The Russians backed away, as did Charlie and Ryan. Jenks, Carl, and Jack held their ground but stood stock-still and didn’t flinch, and they all had their open hands in the air. After only a few steps, Captain Kreshenko felt the jab of a sharp object in his back, and he slowly turned, raising his own hands into the air.

Jack turned in time to see a small man with blond hair and brown skin step from the bush. He held no spear. He wore breeches made of some sort of fish-type skin and nothing from the waist up. He had a very lethal knife in a scabbard on his hip, and his necklace was made from small seashells. The brightly colored bird feathers were placed at varying intervals into his blond hair. Charlie started to lower his hands when he saw the inhabitants up close without their protective coating of mud. He thought they were a magnificent mixed race of people. He started to smile as his hands came down until five more of the native men stepped from the line of trees. Their ten-foot-long harpoon-like spears were held at the ready. Charlie placed his hands back into the air.

“Gentlemen, don’t move an inch. I think they’re more concerned about their children than they are us.” Collins smiled as best he could under the circumstances and nodded.

The blond-haired leader, whose hair was done in braids, looked from the Russians to Jack and then moved forward, unafraid of the strangers. As he did, fifteen more of the fishermen stepped onto the trail.

“Oh, crap,” Charlie said, watching history come alive for him once more. His field assignments had been of the most startling kind of late.

“Hang in there, Doc,” Jenks said as he eyed the weaponry aimed at them. He saw a bow and arrow aimed their way and spears longer than most American Indian lances he had ever seen in museums. “These aren’t weapons the way we think of them. They’re tools to these people.”

“Well, I don’t see them as a hammer or nails,” Ryan said as he took a step back from an advancing fishing spear. “That spear tip looks sharp.”

The leader of this advanced scout team stepped forward. His tilted head and his curious expression fixed on Collins. The man, who stood about five feet eight inches tall and was muscled beyond reason, advanced on Jack rather quickly, and the colonel thought he was going to feel the business end of the man’s short, strong knife. The man motioned for his hunters to lower their weapons. Then he reached out and quickly pulled Jack’s nine millimeter free of his shoulder holster. He looked it over with curiosity and then looked back at his men, and the newcomers were taken by surprise when the small man laughed. He jabbered something in strange, halting words, and then the other hunters started laughing along with him.

Jack met Carl’s eyes, and the confusion was evident on both of their uncomfortable faces. The laughing continued and then stopped when the leader of the group simply tossed Jack’s semiautomatic into the air toward him, where the colonel was forced to catch it. The man walked up to Charlie, who still had his hands in the air. The scientist had lost the welcoming smile and was nervous when the brown-skinned man reached up and pulled Ellenshaw’s glasses from his face. He placed them on his own small nose and then looked around. He quickly reached up and pulled the glasses off and threw them onto the ground.

“I guess they didn’t match his prescription,” Jenks said with a chuckle and the cold cigar in his mouth.

The leader rubbed his eyes, thinking that the glasses must have robbed him of his clear vision. Quickly his attention turned on the chuckling Jenks, and the headman’s eyes went from being rubbed to them looking at the master chief with interest. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Jenks, and he crouched low as he took the man in.

Jenks quickly stopped chuckling at Ellenshaw’s discomfort. The man cautiously approached him, and then his hand slowly rose to his face. The small man’s movement was so quick that Jack and the others thought the man had sliced the master chief’s throat. The leader of the small band of fishermen and miners had Jenks’s cigar in his hand, and he examined it. He then smelled it, and then his tongue reached out and tasted it. His face was a mask of horror as he quickly crushed the smelly cigar and then threw it away.

“Hey, those are a little hard to come by out here,” Jenks said in protest.

“I guess it wasn’t his brand, huh?” Charlie quipped, eliciting a dirty look from the master chief.

The man looked at the other visitors, and with a couple of clicks of his tongue, the others lowered their spears. Then they just simply walked away back to the underbrush. Jack and the others slowly lowered their hands and watched the fishermen and the far filthier miners leave. Collins smiled and then looked at his group. Without answering their unasked questions, the colonel just turned and started to follow the residents of this bizarre world down the trail.

Captain Thorne was on his back inside the sonar shack, cursing and trying his best to get the new cable attached to the equipment. They had stolen from Peter to pay Paul. The cable was from the PC that crewmen used from time to time to send loved ones e-mails. It had been sacrificed to repair the sonar and radar suites. Finally, he made the cable connection, and then he pushed himself from under the console.

“Well, give a shot, Lieutenant.”

As Thorne watched from the deck, the lieutenant silently prayed and then hit the switch. There was a loud electronic beep, and then the display screens came up. The four sonar men couldn’t hold in their unbridled enthusiasm, and they let out a cheer. Thorne was helped up by the lieutenant and patted on the back.

“You did it, Skipper.”

“One down, eighty more items to go. How is the XO coming along with our air supply?”

“He says we still have plenty of air, just no way to get it into the compartments. He has most of the crew busy cleaning up seawater, and that should keep their minds busy for a while.” The young lieutenant JG looked around, and then the captain caught his drift and moved away from the young sonar men.

“What is it?” he asked as he wiped his sweaty brow.

“Captain, the XO says the ballast control panels are totally scorched. We have cannibalized everything from personal equipment to the damn washers and dryers for the right boards, and nothing even comes close.”

“Okay, what we have to do is build new boards for ballast control.” Thorne stopped and thought a moment, and as he did, there was another cheer that erupted throughout the boat as fresh air once more started to flow through the ventilators. He took a deep breath and got as close to the vent as he could to catch the cold air.

“New boards?” the lieutenant asked.

Thorne felt the cold air wash over him, and after a moment, he fixed the officer with a determined look.

“I want circuit boards from everything not being utilized and others that we won’t need. Boom boxes, personal iPads, anything. Gather everything up and get it to engineering, and then we can piece something together. Just a blow switch will do.” He slapped the boy on the back. “Go. We’ll worry about diving some other time. Right now, we have to get up to the sunshine.”

The lieutenant turned and left, not catching the worried look from Thorne about their chances.

As he gave orders to his sonar men, Thorne lost his balance as the Houston was starting to lose its hold on gravity. The submarine started to slide down the shelf they had landed upon. He held on for dear life as the sliding increased. The sound of smashing rock and sand reverberated throughout the ship, and every man knew what was happening. Most closed their eyes and waited for the inevitable slide to the proverbial deep end.

Thornes cursed inwardly. As suddenly as it started, he felt the Houston catch on something, and the slide downward was arrested.

Captain Thorne again closed his eyes in a silent prayer, and when he opened them, he saw the frightened faces of his sonar men. He was starting to run out of encouraging words for the crew. His gaze went from young face to young face.

“What do you say we find a solution to our ballast problem and get the hell out of here?”

The faces relaxed as Thorne delivered what he thought would be his last encouraging words.

If the Houston had windows, the crew would not be as happy at Thorne’s words as he thought. The USS Houston was only sixteen feet away from the precipitous drop of two and a half miles to the seafloor far below.

Charlie had named the new island Compton’s Reef. The name was funny to most, but Collins had cringed when Ellenshaw had mentioned the director’s name. That would be something Jack would take up with crazy Charlie later.

As they moved, the sounds of life were all around them. They smelled food cooking. They smelled the grasses that lined the trail they traveled upon. They also heard the sounds of laughter, playing, a community living life the only way they knew how — day to day.

After only ten minutes, Jack broke into a clearing, and the sight that met his astonished gaze almost made him weak in the knees. For the first time, he wished Sarah could see what it was he was seeing at this very moment.

“Wow!” Ryan said as he stepped out of the bush and stood beside the colonel.

Inside the clearing, there were well over three hundred huts of varying size and shape. The largest one in the center of the large village looked as if it were some form of community center. Women sat around its exterior and did their chores, chopping leafy vegetables and other cooking activities. Men were off to the side, repairing nets and fishing spears, while other men placed the baskets they had observed being brought down from the mountain in even rows at the edge of the large community. Even the children, who were still playing, laughing, and running, were involved in the village’s activities by carrying water from the large stream-fed lagoon.

Jack quickly estimated that the inhabitants must have been at the very least three to four hundred strong. The most amazing thing was the fact that outside of mere curiosity, the folk of this community gave them only cursory looks and glances. Even several of the blond-haired women looked over at the men and giggled as they noticed them. Their worlds were not that much different, Jack figured.

“This is amazing,” Charlie said as he adjusted his recovered glasses and took in the scene. “It’s like something out of a Jack London or some South Seas romance novel.”

Ryan was looking at a group of young women who were sewing items that looked as if they came from a bolt of sharkskin material. They looked his way, and he smiled back at them.

Jenks popped a cigar into his mouth, thought better of it with their present company, and then pocketed the stogie.

The Russians eyed the scene, and Collins didn’t know what their thoughts were. They stood and watched the activity with mild interest. It was Salkukoff who joined Jack, Ryan, and Everett.

“As you can see, Colonel, these people are not a threat to our ships. So, may I suggest we cut this visit short and get back to saving ourselves?”

Collins was curious as to why the Russian was so adamant about not spending time in this village of innocents.

“Forget it. We have to learn all we can about these people.” Charlie angrily looked at the Russian colonel. “We can draw conclusions on our own environment by study,” he said as he looked sideways at Salkukoff as if he were a barbarian.

Ellenshaw immediately went to a group of men who had large nets strung up in the branches of two trees as they used large wooden needles to repair the links of line that made up the net. He immediately smiled and watched silently. The men nodded at Ellenshaw and then continued jabbering and sewing.

Jack was mystified at the easy way Charlie took things. His naïveté amazed him. How simply the cryptozoologist looked at life. Jack smiled as did Everett and Ryan.

“Never stand in the way of science, Colonel. I thought you would have known that doing the things you do with history.”

The shocked look on Salkukoff’s face told Jack he had hit pay dirt on the Russian. The small brief supplied by Compton’s new orders had come in handy on just who this man was suspected of being.

“And suddenly, you know far more about me than previously thought, Colonel Collins.”

Jack just dipped his head and then moved off toward the center of the village.

“Ryan, did you bring that package from Shiloh you got from their mess?”

Ryan looked at Jack and then remembered. He quickly reached into his small pack and brought out a clear neoprene bag. It was full of individually wrapped saltwater taffy in varying colors. He tossed the bag to Collins.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to feed the animals, Colonel?” Salkukoff said with a dirty little smirk.

Jack noticed the Russian’s eyes constantly meandered over to the assembled baskets lined nearby and then just as quickly looked away. The American, after noticing this, pretended to ignore him, and then he opened the bag. He caught the attention of a small girl as she moseyed across to the stream running in the center of the village by holding up a piece of the tantalizingly colorful taffy wrapped in paper. The girl, not knowing what the item was, just went about her business.

The small child had several large halved coconut shells and used them to dip into the stream. After filling the coconut shells with freshwater, the girl placed the other half of the shells over them and sealed the small containers. She was about to get up and return to her chores when the dark shadow of Jack fell upon her. She stood quickly, spilling some of the water. Her eyes were big, round, and the bluest Collins had ever seen. He was joined by Everett and Ryan as the girl’s eyes went from man to man. Jack smiled down at her. He unwrapped an orange-colored piece of taffy and offered it to the small blonde. She looked from the gift to Jack.

“She won’t take it, Colonel.”

Everett looked at Ryan and smirked. “Five bucks says she does, flyboy.”

“You’re on. You’d better—” Jason stopped when Carl started laughing.

The small child had placed her containers of water on the ground and accepted Jack’s offer without much trepidation. She examined the orange-colored candy and then sniffed it. She squeezed her fingers closed and squished it somewhat, and then she smiled up at Jack.

Ryan and Everett examined the child. She was wearing what looked like sharkskin shorts and a halter top of grass. As the girl popped the taffy into her mouth, it remained open as the sensation and taste of sugar hit her taste buds. Her eyes widened, and all the visitors to the village that day smiled and laughed at her reaction — everyone with the exception of Salkukoff, who watched without mirth or humor. He shot Kreshenko and Dishlakov an angry look, but this time they ignored him and then joined the rest of the landing party as more children came over to where they stood.

When Jack saw the curious children start to advance on them, he quickly handed out handfuls of taffy to the men around him. Soon there were over seventy-five children ranging in age from a couple of years to fifteen or so. The amazing part was that the parents of these children watched and smiled at not only the scene before them but the strangers themselves.

“They are totally trusting,” Charlie said, rejoining the group. “No inhibitions, no fear.”

“I’m afraid we equate this gentle world to our own and are very sad to realize our world comes up lacking, Doc,” Everett said as he handed a piece to a mother who had come to see what the children were laughing over. All the children had their mouths and cheeks stuffed full of candy.

“I suppose,” Ellenshaw said as the children started to move away.

“All right, what is it, Doc?” Jack asked. “I know that look. You’re worried about something.”

“I’m concerned about that,” he said as he pointed to a hut in the far corner of the village. “They must have an enemy. It’s not us, but there’s something in this world these kind and gentle people fear.”

Jack and the others followed Charlie’s gaze, and then they saw what it was he saw. The large hut was surrounded by war shields and axes. Spears and bows. Slingshots hung from small poles, ready to be snatched up at a moment’s notice.

“I see what you mean,” Jack said.

Before they could move to the hut and examine the villagers’ weaponry, they were approached by the same small man who had confronted them on the trail. He went to Jenks and then took his hand and started pulling him away. Other men joined in and started escorting the visitors toward the far end of the village.

“Now, did you geniuses ever consider that fish may not be the only meat product these folks eat?” Jenks said as he looked behind him as the man pulled on his hand and arm.

“As much as I hate to admit this, I think that antisocial bastard may have a point,” Ryan whispered to Jack as they were led away. “I mean, we could be on the menu tonight.”

Before Jack could tell Ryan to stay cool, they all smelled it. Jenks heard his stomach rumble, and even the two Russian Navy men perked up at the smell of roasting meat. They were led to a small clearing near the far side of the large village, and that was when they saw several of the blond natives of this new world bring out a large roasted boar on a long pole. The visitors were escorted to small blocks of tree trunk, and the women gestured that they should sit. They were all amazed to see that these simple people had a social gathering place for their main meal of the day.

As the men sat down and exchanged looks of wonder, a deep bass sound echoed throughout the island. Salkukoff was the only one of them to tickle his gun with his fingers. As he stopped and looked up, he saw Jack and Farbeaux looking at him.

Henri had been the only man outside of Salkukoff who hadn’t been more appreciative of their new surroundings. Jack leaned over and spoke in low tones to the Frenchman.

“What is it?” Jack asked over the sounds of the horn being blasted.

“Our Russian colonel was the only man here not to be surprised by that hut over there and the weapons it contains. He wasn’t even curious. Dishlakov and Kreshenko were, but not him.” Henri faced Jack. “We also have to get a look-see inside those baskets, because if you have been watching Salkukoff as I have, you would have noticed a disconcerting way that our Russian friend has of eyeing them. Why is that, Colonel?”

Jack looked over, and the Russian was staring right at the two men. Collins said nothing but knew Henri was right, having noticed the same thing.

As the seashell horn was blasted by one of the larger fishermen, other horns started their refrain. Soon adults were arriving from all parts of the island to join the group meal. Men, women, and children greeted the others who had joined them.

“Now this is a barbecue,” Jenks enthusiastically said as his mouth started to water. “This has got to beat shit on a shingle, huh, Doc?” he said, nudging Charlie on the arm and almost knocking him from his small tree stump, joking and mentioning the military’s main meal of the past 150 years of chipped beef on toast.

“I am quite famished myself,” Ellenshaw said as he rubbed his arm from the master chief’s gentle pop.

Women started singing a song in their native language, when the village’s men joined in. It was rough but harmonious. They sang as everyone sat down for their evening meal. Their bodies swayed to the sounds of the song that even the young children had joined in for.

“We are truly barbarians in a gentle land,” Henri said, sparking strange looks, as the Frenchman had never once shown sentimentality about life back home. Jack and Everett figured the man was just waiting for the villagers to bring out something that the antiquities thief could steal. But as Jack looked on, he could see a change in Farbeaux. He was genuinely impressed by what he was seeing.

The horns calmed, and the singing slowed as food was passed around. Jack was handed a large wooden bowl with fish and pork. There were greens that looked close to seaweed. He sniffed the food and found the fragrance of the seaweed was something he would never have expected. The fish was done to perfection, and the roasted boar was succulent.

“I may never want to leave this place,” Ryan said as he popped a long strand of seaweed into his mouth, slurping it up like a strand of spaghetti. The young women around the great campfire giggled and exchanged words about the handsome young naval aviator. Again, Ryan made them practically swoon when he popped a large piece of pork into his mouth and then rubbed his belly in overexaggerated pleasure over the taste of the meal. All around them, the villagers ate and laughed as if the visitors were a normal part of life. Jack chewed on the delicious roasted boar and then leaned over to talk to Ellenshaw, who was busy studying the wooden bowl and its craftsmanship.

“Doc, what does our traveling link with Europa make out about their language?”

An astonished look came to Ellenshaw’s face as he snapped his fingers. “Damn, I almost forgot!” He reached into the pack at his feet and brought up the closed-looped system that was their very limited remote brain of Europa. He flipped open the aluminum top. He whispered, “Europa, can you identify the language being spoken by these indigenous people?” Charlie held the computer outward without drawing attention to what it was he was doing.

It only took a moment, and it was straight up. “No, Doctor.”

“No syntax, no morphology, is there nothing close to one of the languages you are familiar with?” Again, Charlie held the laptop up so Europa could hear. He also used the camera system to scan the people as they spoke. He just hoped that the portable laptop housing Europa Jr.’s limited memory would allow him to gain the information he needed. Not being in direct contact with the supercomputer was limiting, to say the least.

“Doctor, from their hand gestures and spoken language, it is calculated that the indigenous peoples involved are utilizing both spoken and sign languages. There is a total of two million six hundred thousand combinations on record. Limited memory on the portable system has curtailed a more detailed study.”

Ellenshaw closed the top and then placed the laptop back into his pack. He shrugged at Collins. “I wish Pete or Dr. Morales could expand this new memory system for the portable Europa more.”

“I’m sure they didn’t expect us to run into language problems,” Everett said as he placed his bowl aside.

“Look at that,” Kreshenko said as he was looking at the sky overhead.

The sun was setting, and what came up next was still a frightening and amazing sight: the moon with her trail of debris spread out across the sky like an incomplete ring of Saturn. The sparkling white material that used to be the same moon they used to stare up at was almost fluorescent in color and made every man at the campfire that night feel small and unknowing.

“How long do you figure the tail of that moon is, Colonel?” Kreshenko asked.

“My guess would be close to about three hundred and fifty thousand miles.”

Wonder seized all their minds.

The evening was full of laughter and of families spending the end of their long day together. Fathers helped sons, and mothers laughed with daughters. Neighbors shared jokes and laughter, and the visitors were included in some of these exchanges just as if they could understand everything that was being said or discussed. Jack and the others were reduced to their lowest forms of response; they nodded and smiled enough times to look like bobblehead idiots.

“Shiloh to Collins,” came the radio call.

Jack stood, and as a small blond-haired villager smiled and jabbered about something that Jack was sure the man thought he understood, he happily nodded and acted as though he had indeed understood the joke, or was it just a story? He didn’t know but smiled and bobbed his head and then moved away to take his radio call. Everett joined him.

“Collins,” he said into the radio when he was a few feet away from the boisterous villagers.

“Colonel, I have Professor Gervais here, and he wishes to speak with Master Chief Jenks,” Captain Johnson said from the deck of Shiloh. “He seems really agitated about something.”

Everett got the attention of Jenks, who had a small child on his lap and was teasing her by making her think he had just pulled her nose from her face. The girl giggled and squealed with laughter when she discovered that the nose he had pulled off was actually his thumb that he wiggled in front of her. Jenks made eye contact with Carl and then easily sat the girl down and then joined the two officers. Jack explained who was calling and then handed the radio to Jenks.

“Jenks here,” he said and then popped a cigar into his mouth. He waited a moment and grew frustrated. “Who is this?” he asked, looking at Jack.

“Supposed to be Professor Gervais.”

A look of knowing came onto the master chief’s rough countenance.

“Press the damn button on the side, Professor. Jesus.”

“Oh, oh, I see. Thank you.”

“Okay. What’s up, Doc?” Jenks said and then smiled at his small Bugs Bunny joke. He saw that Jack and Carl only stared at him, and then he removed his cigar and then spit. “Goddamn humorless pukes.” He turned back and then looked at the radio. “Come on, push the button on the side every time you want to speak. Don’t they teach you anything over there in Putin land?”

“Oh, again? I see,” came the voice over the radio as Jenks was sure Captain Johnson was explaining the transmit switch on the radio to the old professor. “Master Chief, we have activity on the phase shift equipment that is quite fascinating.”

“And that is?” he asked into the radio as he removed the cigar once again as he looked at Jack and spoke in low tones. “And we were afraid of Russian science all these years, and they can’t even operate a radio.”

“But yet they still came up with phase shift technology,” Everett said, raising his eyebrows at Jenks.

“Smart-ass.”

“The equipment seems to be powering up once again. Low output, but we are detecting a ramp-up by 0.1 percent.”

“Come on, Professor, that could be anything. It could just be residual energy being disbursed by the equipment to static electricity buildup. You are in a ship constructed of steel, you know.” Jenks rolled his eyes at the Russian professor’s naïveté.

“Yes, I have figured that into the equation and have found no evidence of that. Therefore, I will monitor the phase shift system until you return, but there is now another concern about a changing situation that I will let Captain Johnson explain.”

There was silence once more as Jenks handed the radio to Jack. “Here. Navy officers give me the galloping trots.”

“Hey!” Everett said with a mocking tone.

“Present company included, of course.”

Everett’s eyes narrowed, but the master chief just shrugged.

“Colonel, Johnson here. It seems that when the professor first detected the buildup of energy from that machine on the Simbirsk, we started getting interference on the Shiloh’s and Peter the Great’s radio band frequencies we have just repaired. Were you or any of your landing party using a radio at that time?”

“Negative. We were invited to dinner by our hosts. Thus far, this is the first call.”

Carl nudged Jack’s arm, and the colonel looked up at where Everett was nodding. Salkukoff was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Henri, for that matter.

“Noted, Captain. Inform the good professor that Master Chief Jenks will return to the ship momentarily. Out for now.” Jack lowered the radio and then gestured for Carl and Ryan to find Salkukoff. “Jenks, stay with me.”

Before anyone could move, a shrill scream echoed through the bright moonlit night. The scream could be heard from some distance away. Around them, women gathered up their children, and the men, much to Jack and his team’s surprise, started running for the large hut where they had seen the village’s weapons stored.

“Oh, this don’t look good,” Jason said as he watched the frantic activity. As he studied the scene, he nudged Jack on the arm and then pointed.

Jack turned and saw what was being indicated. In the clearing where the baskets of whatever the villagers had been mining had been lined up, a place that had been unguarded since they all had moved into the next communal clearing for their evening meal, the baskets had mysteriously vanished.

Before Collins could comment, they saw one of the women, a larger, more rotund one with streaming long and braided blond hair, gesturing wildly in the center of the village. It looked as though she were frantically looking for someone. Jack saw that it was the same mother who had gathered up the child that Jack had given the saltwater taffy to just three hours before. Several of the armed village men confronted her, and she was crying and waving her hands wildly. Then the men, along with thirty others, broke from the group and started to run for the jungle surrounding the village.

“Jason, you and Jenks find Henri and that damn Russian. If the Frenchman already fulfilled his mission, we could be looking at a whole lot of trouble with the rest of the Russians. Get them back here.”

“Right,” Jason said as he and Jenks left the center of the village.

Jack pulled his nine millimeter as did Everett. They both started to follow the menfolk of the village. They ran past a startled Kreshenko and Dishlakov, and Collins waved for the Russian Navy men to follow. They were unarmed, but Jack wanted to keep an eye on them also. With Salkukoff missing, he wasn’t taking any chances.

The group of close to thirty-five villagers and guests sprinted into the low underbrush surrounding the large village.

They had gone about eight hundred yards from the village. Jack and the others were having a hard time catching up with the fast and agile natives. They jumped over tree stumps and bushes just as if it were bright daylight and they could see perfectly. Jack heard the villagers stop up ahead, and then he saw why. They had circled around something on the grassy floor of the trail. Several of the small men turned away, and they could hear the moans of despair coming from them. Collins approached slowly, easing his way past the circle of villagers, who, for the most part, stood there with spears dangling from limp arms, their heads bowed. Jack felt Carl and the Russians next to him. A man was on his knees crying and reaching for something in front of him. The small man was pulled away from whatever it was by the elder of the clan. It was the same man who had greeted them upon their arrival. As he led the man away, the elder caught Jack’s eyes, and the look was not only one of sadness but, strangely enough, also one of resignation. Collins holstered his handgun and leaned down to see.

“Oh no,” Second Captain Dishlakov said as he saw what was there.

Crumpled in a heap was the small blond girl with the golden smile Jack had shared candy with earlier. Collins went down to one knee, and he felt the sadness invade his soul like a virus striking his system. He checked the broken girl for a pulse but found none. A familiar anger filled his mind as he lowered his head.

“Why would someone do this?” Kreshenko said as he looked around the darkness.

Jack reached into his small pack and brought out a flashlight and clicked it on. The remaining villagers jumped back at the magical object Jack had used to bring a false sunlight to the gruesome scene before them. With an ease of motion, Jack moved one of the villagers out of the way, and with his free hand, he grasped the long spear, and with delicate care, he removed it from the chest of the little girl. Collins stood as Kreshenko stepped forward and pushed by the silent men of the village and removed his black class-A navy jacket and then reverently placed it over the girl’s still form. He took a step back and looked at the men, who had lost all enthusiasm or anger at what had just happened to a child of their clan. Kreshenko didn’t understand these people.

“It looks like she was taken right from the gathering. Look.” Jack shined the light on the girl’s exposed wrist. It was red and discolored as if she had been pulled. All eyes also locked on the same thing Jack had seen. Clutched in the girl’s right hand was the melted, softened piece of saltwater taffy. The child had never eaten her candy. She must have admired the color and its softness too much to waste by eating it. Collins swallowed the lump in his throat. “She must have at least been free enough to scream, and then whoever did this plunged this into her,” Jack said as he retrieved the spear from the ground at his feet and easily tossed the long shaft over to Carl. “Look at it, Swabby.”

Carl did as he was asked and examined the long spear. The differences were noticed right away. The bloody tip was not flint or any other kind of natural material. It was iron.

Immediately, the newcomers started looking around them. They now knew there was danger here facing these native villagers in this tranquil place.

Collins moved the flashlight around the clearing, and he saw that a long line of perpetrators had used the trail recently. The underbrush was trampled, as whoever it was had headed toward the opposite beach from the side of the island that they themselves had landed on.

The Americans and Russians were eased aside by the villagers as they gathered around the still form of the covered body. They easily picked up the small bundle, and they moved off with it. Kreshenko and Dishlakov started to follow the slow and sad procession out of the jungle.

“No,” Jack said as he clicked off the flashlight.

The Russians stopped and turned to face the American with a questioning look.

“Let’s get the others and get back to the ships and leave these people to grieve in their own way. I don’t think they’ll think us rude or anything like that. As a matter of fact, it worries me that they almost seemed emotionless or maybe even expectant of what happened. We’ll leave them alone for now and get answers tomorrow.”

“Colonel, you are thinking deep thoughts, and as a captain of a capital warship, I have come to learn the signs of a man who has something on his mind.”

Collins looked from the retreating forms of the villagers and faced Kreshenko.

“Yeah, Captain, I do have something on my mind.”

“What is it, Jack?” Everett asked with the spear still in his hand. He noticed the weapon and then easily snapped it into two pieces over his knee and then angrily tossed it to the ground.

“These people just had a child murdered by something or someone. But their reaction was one of resignation. It’s like they experience this all the time. I think they originally thought the child may have been taken by an animal, maybe a big cat or something, and that was their intent, to kill or stop whatever it was. Then they saw what had killed her, and they all became not angrier but frightened or even resigned to the situation.”

The night became stiller than it had been earlier, or was it that the newcomers had just felt the night close in around them far more than it was before they found the murdered child?

“We’ll learn more tomorrow. We’ll expand the search of the surrounding seas and see what else is out there. Right now, we need daylight,” Jack said as he started to move away.

“Yes, in the daylight,” Dishlakov said as he eyed the dangerous world around him.

In the bush only a few feet away, the bright green eyes with black pupils watched as the men moved away. The long-fingered hand reached out from the brush and grasped the broken spear that Everett had just discarded. The eyes blinked, and the creature stood erect. The eyes watched, and its recessed ears, buried deep into the sides of its head, listened. It hissed, opening its mouth, exposing the clear, small, and very sharp teeth of the predator.

The creature moved back into the darkness and was engulfed by the night.

Jenks and Ryan found Charlie Ellenshaw, who was lurking behind a tree. They thought the crazed cryptozoologist was still back in camp, but here he was in the middle of what was fast becoming a dangerous jungle. Jason eased up behind Ellenshaw and tapped him on the back, which made Charlie yelp in fear as he fell forward, thinking that whatever was out here had come upon him. He looked up and then exhaled a pent-up breath.

“Jesus, Captain, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Come on, don’t be a wimp, Nerdly,” Jenks said with a chuckle.

“What in the hell are you doing out here, Doc?” Ryan asked.

“Following Colonel Farbeaux. He looked very determined to get somewhere.”

“Damn,” Jason said as he looked at Jenks. “I hope he hasn’t done anything yet.”

“Done what, Commander Ryan?”

They turned and saw Henri standing only feet away from them. Jenks grabbed his chest and yelped just as Ellenshaw had just done a brief moment before and cursed the Frenchman.

“Where’s Salkukoff?” Ryan asked pointedly, almost afraid of the answer.

“Right over there,” Farbeaux said with a gesture of his head.

“Why did he vanish?” Jenks asked.

“I don’t know, but he was speaking with someone on the radio.”

“I thought he didn’t have one,” Charlie said, confused by the inquiries being made.

“He wasn’t issued one by us or the Russian captain. Their equipment wasn’t working when we left. Our radios were shielded, at least the handheld radios were.” Ryan looked around and tried to catch sight of the Russian. “Who was he speaking to?”

Farbeaux kept his gaze on Ryan. “All I can say is that the language returned was Russian.”

Before Jason or Jenks could ask another question, they heard the underbrush being parted and footsteps as they approached. Colonel Salkukoff stepped out in his expensive bush clothing. The only thing that was missing, the Americans had joked earlier, was the pith helmet seen in old Tarzan movies.

“Out for an evening stroll, gentlemen?” the arrogant man asked as he pushed by the group. He stopped and faced the Frenchman and the others, including Ellenshaw, who was just now standing up. The Russian’s eyes took it all in. “Or were you on a spy mission sent by your clever Colonel Collins?”

“Yes, they were.”

Everyone turned and saw Jack, Carl, and the two Russian Navy men. They were standing there silently, listening and watching.

“I see, so all pretense of trust is now gone?” Salkukoff asked with a large smile.

“No, not at all, Colonel. There never was a pretense. We never trusted you.”

The smile grew even larger.

“Colonel Salkukoff, after you vanished from the meal our hosts were generous enough to lay out for us, you came up missing. Now we have a small child murdered. Coincidence?” Jack asked as he stared at the dark-haired man.

“I will not stand here and be interrogated by you, Colonel Collins. I won’t answer to your ridiculous and dangerous insinuations. I don’t kill children.”

“But yet you do. I saw your gentle nature in the Ukraine, Colonel. So, I know that you do, most assuredly, kill small children,” Henri said as his blue eyes never left those of the Russian.

“We’ll discuss this later. Right now, we have to get Master Chief Jenks back to the Simbirsk.”

Salkukoff started forward and then stopped in front of Farbeaux.

“Very soon, Colonel Farbeaux, we are going to have a serious disagreement.”

“I look forward to it,” Henri answered as Salkukoff stepped by him.

“But for now, Colonel Collins has suggested that we return to the ships. Captain Kreshenko, Second Captain Dishlakov, join me, please.”

With a bow of his head toward Jack and the others, the Russian captain and his XO reluctantly fell in beside Salkukoff.

“What do you think, Jack?” Carl asked.

“Again, I think our Russian colonel knows far more about this place than he’s telling.”

“Does anyone want to know what I think?” Jenks asked as he slowly and deliberately lit a fresh cigar.

No one asked, and Jenks accepted that.

“Well, if you are interested, I think our French thief here should have placed a bullet in the head of that murderous son of a bitch while you were out here in the dark.”

Most heads turned and looked at the master chief. He smiled back at them.

“But no one asked me, so let’s get the hell back to that ghost ship and try to get out of here before this Salkukoff asshole turns the tables on us. Because in case you didn’t notice, gentlemen, that bastard has had a plan and an agenda long before we arrived here.” Jenks snorted, puffed on his cigar, and then moved by the others toward the beach and the boat ride back.

Collins lay back as the others joined Jenks. He stepped up to Henri, who had been rather silent the past few minutes.

“I was afraid you had killed him already,” Jack said when he was sure no one was in earshot.

The Frenchman shook his head and placed the small .30-caliber handgun away. He had been hiding it behind his back the entire time he was facing off with Salkukoff.

“I would have, but when I came upon him and his secret radio, I found this. He must have stepped right over it. It was on the beaten track made by the attacker or attackers. I assume more than one by the way the brush was trampled.” He reached into his pants pocket and then held out a small object. “Remember, Colonel, the power source enhancers we used for the Wellsian Doorway?”

Jack knew the power enhancers well from their adventure through time with the help of the Traveler’s Wellsian Doorway, the very power enhancers stolen by the Frenchman after those events. He nodded to inform Henri he remembered. Henri then dropped what looked like a small rock into his hand. Jack examined it in the shattered moonlight. He looked from it to Farbeaux.

“That’s right, Colonel. Uncut, directly from the ground. I suspect this one fell from one of those mysterious baskets the miners brought in — you know, the ones conveniently lined up in the village?”

“Blue diamonds.” Jack turned the unprocessed mineral over in his hand. It was still crusted with dirt as if it had just been taken from the ground.

“I noticed elements of the diamonds earlier when you were engaged in making nice with the natives.”

“Inside the village?” Jack asked, amazed he hadn’t seen them.

“Yes, their spear tips and their arrowheads are made of blue and red diamonds.”

“Industrial blues,” Jack said.

“Yes, the blood diamonds are good for nothing but money, but those, we have seen what they can do as energy enhancers.”

Henri was right. If someone were here to mine this stuff, they could easily corner the energy markets on a massive scale back home.

“Colonel, I think you just discovered Salkukoff’s hidden agenda that the master chief just mentioned.”

What the two men and former enemies had discovered was not even feasible in their minds. How could the Russian manipulate blue diamonds from another plane of existence? They were thinking that he couldn’t do it. Then again they were both experienced enough in facing the impossible and adjusted their thinking. After the Antarctica Event, they were on a course to believe almost every outrageous theory possible.

Farbeaux stood his ground, not moving as he pulled another item out of his pants pocket. He unfurled it, and Jack again turned on his flashlight to see it clearly. Henri stretched it out.

“I found this also while you were being fed. It was inside the villagers’ armament hut.”

“Is that what I think it is?” Jack asked just as Jason returned to both men, curious as to what they were talking about.

The flag was black material of a sort that was woven and thicker than most, but they could see that it closely resembled a flag. On that flag was a symbol every one of them recognized from their childhood. It was a pirate flag. The old skull and crossbones.

“This is getting strange,” Jason added. “Remember the page from Treasure Island Garrison Lee found on the Eldridge?”

“There seems to be a connection here, and I’ll be damned if I can figure it out,” Jack said as he gave the flag back to the Frenchman. “Henri?” Jack said as he stopped on the game trail heading back to the landing boat.

“Yes, Colonel?”

“Neither Salkukoff or the Simbirsk can survive this.”

Farbeaux nodded.

“As a matter of fact, as far as that goes, if it comes to that, we stay here with both the Simbirsk and Salkukoff. All other concerns at this point are secondary. That man cannot return to our world with that ship.”

Around them, the jungle came alive with night sounds once more.

13

As the American-built Zodiac disembarked the Russian contingent accordingly between the Simbirsk and Peter the Great, Master Chief Jenks immediately removed the Europa system laptop from Charlie’s bag and opened it. As the rubber boat rode smoothly over the soft movement of the strangely colored seas, Jack moved in next to him.

“Europa, was your task completed?” Jenks asked.

“Assigned task completed at 1735 hours, Master Chief.”

“I can’t get used to Marilyn Monroe talking to me.”

Jack smiled as he heard the same argument he had been making since his arrival at the Group eleven years before. “I know how you feel.”

“Europa, run program Chameleon.”

On the small screen, Jack and Jenks watched the system start to scroll. The master chief smiled at Jack, and then he whistled.

“Ooh, good little spy we have here. Be sure to keep her out of my private server.”

Jack watched the specs pop up on the entirety of the phase shift experiment as conducted by the Russians in the mid-’40s, complete diagrams and reports on the completion of the stolen American design.

“There you are. They used unrefined uranium for their power source. Actually, in some areas, the nuclear question was years ahead of the American enrichment program of that time,” Jenks said as the reflection of the findings continued to scroll across the screen and onto his face.

“Yeah, but our boys in New Mexico were going another way with it,” Jack retorted.

“Yeah, and didn’t that make the world a happier, kinder place?”

“Europa wasn’t compromised when she took over the Russian professor’s computer?” Jack asked, always concerned about the security of the most advanced computing system in the world, even if the laptop was only using 0.0001 percent of her capacity.

“Nah, that kid Morales, the new king nerd in the Group, said Europa has never been caught in the act.”

“Good. Now, how does this damn thing work?”

“Jesus, Colonel, do you have an extra three years for me to explain it to you?”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah, that bad. This stuff would give Virginia a raging migraine.”

At that moment, the Zodiac lightly bumped the boarding ladder, and the men were assisted to the deck of Shiloh. They were met by Captain Johnson, who looked worried. When Jack made the last step up, Johnson steered him away from the others.

“What’s up?” Collins asked.

“Number one, we tried several times to contact you by radio. We couldn’t raise you. My electronic warfare boys tell me we were being jammed.”

Jack pursed his lips, knowing that the Russians were up to their old parlor tricks again. But why now and why when other Russians were with them in their exploration of the village?

“Can you burn through it?”

“Yeah, now that we know someone is screwing with us, no problem. We’ll set the radios to random and roving frequencies.”

“What else? You don’t seem the type that gets worried over jamming.”

“Two other developments. One — we’re picking up a few sonar readings that we cannot figure out. The computers say they are transient in nature. But it sounds like hammering, voices on occasion, and escaping air. Computers are saying they are nothing more than biological sea life.”

“What do you think?” Jack asked, knowing that if the sounds from the sea bothered Johnson, he had better not ignore them either.

“No clue yet; we’ll keep evaluating. Now, number-two concern. Radar is working on and off. But at 1645 hours, we detected small craft moving toward the island. That was when the attempt was made to contact you. Don’t know the size or the disposition of these craft, but they did go to the island on the opposing side as your landing. Did you have any company at that time?”

Jack turned away just as Everett, Charlie, and Jenks walked up. He faced the captain once more. “Yes, there were visitors. One of the island’s children was murdered.”

“Children?” Johnson asked.

“We’ll brief you in the wardroom.”

Johnson nodded and moved off with the returning marines.

“What is it, Jack?” Carl asked when he saw his face.

Instead of answering Everett’s concern, he faced Jenks. “Look, Master Chief, we need to learn and learn fast how we can get that phase shift equipment operational with some modicum of control.”

Jenks frowned. “That will take some time. In a few hours, I should learn enough with the help of Captain Johnson’s electronics team on how to at least turn it on without blowing ourselves up.”

“Jack, why the white face?” Carl persisted.

Collins reached into his pocket and retrieved the dirt-encrusted blue diamond and rolled it over in his hand. He also explained the flag Henri had discovered.

“Swabby, I’m beginning to think our Russian friends know a hell of a lot more than they are letting on about this mysterious world we have here. We’re running so far behind in this game, we may never catch up.” Jack looked up and saw Carl was still in the dark. “Look, Salkukoff may not be a regular visitor here, but they knew somehow what it was they were going to find. These.” He held out his hand and showed the blue diamond.

“That’s assuming an awful lot,” Everett said. “I don’t suppose you have proof.”

“No, no proof. My only evidence is the fact that whoever is running things in Moscow these days would have never risked the life of their most experienced man unless it was for a reason that could not be ignored. He’s here for one of two reasons. Either he knew these were here and the Russians are somehow taking advantage of it, or he was sent to stop the phase shift project forever.”

“Seems like if that were the case, Salkukoff would just have blown the ship out of the water as soon they entered the eye of Tildy,” Charlie Ellenshaw offered.

“Maybe our friend had just those orders,” Farbeaux said as he joined the group.

“Running his own game against the wishes of his bosses?” Carl asked, raising a brow.

Jack tossed the blue diamond into the air, and Charlie fumbled and then caught it, and then it dropped to the deck and slid over the side and into the sea. Ellenshaw looked horrified.

“Don’t worry about it, Charlie,” Jack said. “I suspect they have a whole mountain streaked with them. There’s plenty more where they came from.”

They all watched Jack move into Shiloh. The Frenchman soon followed.

“You know what makes me the most nervous?” Everett said to Charlie, Jenks, and Ryan.

“What makes you nervous, Toad?” Jenks asked.

“When both of those men are confused and without answers concerning the motives of a man like Salkukoff, we may have a major problem on our hands.”

“I’m not following,” Jenks said.

“He means, is Salkukoff following orders or is he in this for himself?” Ryan answered for Carl.

“You guys are some worrisome sons of bit—”

Jenks found himself standing alone as the others followed Jack in the hopes of figuring this out before the Russian knew they were on to him.

Inside the wardroom of the Shiloh, Johnson, Carl, Jack, and Farbeaux sat with the captain and his officers and ate a light meal. In the far-off corner, coffee was being consumed at an extraordinary rate by Jenks, Charlie, Ryan, and the electronic warfare department of Shiloh as they tried to figure out the complicated design of the phase shift engine on Simbirsk.

“What makes you think that the sneaky little bastard won’t just up and vanish on us without us in tow?” Ezra Johnson asked, voicing the fear of his officers sitting around the table.

“Master Chief,” Jack called out until Jenks looked up from the newly printed schematics stolen from the Russians’ own computer. “What guarantee do we have Simbirsk won’t up and disappear on us in the middle of the night?”

Without looking up from the plans, Jenks reached into his front pocket and tossed something all the way across the wardroom, where Jack caught it and then held it up.

It was a small crystal-looking ball with several leads connected to it.

“What is that?” Johnson asked.

“It’s the power converter from the phase shift generator. One of a kind. They can’t start her up again without it. Unless they take some of those unrefined blue diamonds and construct a new, vastly improved converter.”

“And the master chief is just tossing the damn thing around?” Johnson’s first officer asked in shock.

“Jenks said the crystal is damn near indestructible. That’s why it was the only essential part he chose to steal.”

“I may be off point here, but just who in the hell are you people, Colonel?” the first officer of Shiloh asked.

Collins chose to ignore the same question he had been asked by everyone, from the leaders of the free world to his own mother.

“Captain, what is the EMP damage?”

“Some good news, some horrible. We have nothing but close-in weapons support. Four .50-calibers and handheld weaponry from the armory. Good news is that we do have the Phalanx system, but no radar for her targeting. No offensive or defensive missiles. Fire control on those systems was totally disabled. Radios are now working along with radar. Sonar, as we discussed, is still spotty at best.”

“Are the Russians in the same predicament?” Jack asked with hope.

“Their pulse shielding is damn near the same design as our own,” Johnson answered.

“What are you talking about, sir? It is the same design. Just like their missile control, all stolen from us before their prototypes were even built.”

Johnson smiled at his XO as everyone on board ship knew how the Russians obtained most of their sophisticated systems.

The men inside the wardroom continued their duties on through the midnight hour, and they would work until they were comfortable with their strange situation.

Within an hour, they would never be comfortable again.

Four Russian sailors stood at the fantail of the giant warship, smoking and drinking tea during their off shift. They had been slaving below, trying in vain to get their missile systems operational. They had found themselves in the same shape as the Americans as far as replacement parts for those systems — they just had too much electrical damage to fix. Captain Kreshenko had ordered all crew not on duty to be armed from the arms locker. The night watch was tripled, and the radar shack was to be triple manned. The few British and American marines assigned to Peter the Great were mostly hanging out forward, as they didn’t mix well with their new Russian friends.

The sailors joked, but again, like the Americans, their laughter and joking was limited to their work and not their situation. All you had to do was look out at the strangely colored sea in the shattered moonlight to figure that one out.

The four men were just getting ready to head below and go to sleep when one of them heard a sound he didn’t recognize. He went to the railing and looked down. At first, all he saw was the lapping of sea against the hull of Peter the Great. Then his eyes widened when the broken moonlight showed something just beneath the violet-colored waters. The face looking up at the sailor burst through the froth and covered the seventeen feet to the fantail before the sailor could pull his head back. The other three men watched in stupefied wonder as their companion went over the side without uttering a word. They heard the splash and ran to where he vanished. Then before they could even look over the side, more figures burst from the sea and gained the main deck of the Russian warship.

The intruders were dressed in sharkskin pantaloons. Many had a form of vest, and all twelve of them had very sharp harpoon-like spears. They started to stab and decimate those at the fantail with what resembled ancient swords of a curved nature and the long spikelike spears. One man managed to pull his Makarov pistol and get a shot off as an ax came down on his hand. The man screamed and looked into the face of his attacker. His eyes widened beyond what he ever thought they were capable of.

The face was light green in color, the skin nearly transparent, as the sailor could see the muscle and veins just beneath. The tentacle-like appendages curled and uncurled at the corners of its mouth, and each was adorned with a brightly colored ribbon of material. For all the world, the creature looked as if it had stepped directly from a pirate novel. The eight tentacles swung with every motion from where they were attached just below the neck. The scales on the attacker’s chest were thick and darker green than its face. The thing hissed as it brought the ax down again. This time, the sailor’s scream was quickly silenced.

More shots rang out as the deck watch saw what was happening at the fantail. As spotlights started illuminating the chaotic scene below, alarms started sounding throughout the ship.

Peter the Great was being boarded.

Jack came near to spitting out the cold coffee he had just sipped when the alarms started sounding throughout the cruiser.

“Action stations, action stations surface. All hands, action stations surface.”

“Is that bastard moving on us already?” Everett asked as he followed Shiloh’s command team up and out of the wardroom.

As men scrambled out of their bunks or into their varying departments, Jack and Everett let Captain Johnson and his men go to the bridge while they went to the main deck just below. They were the only men above deck.

“Maybe this isn’t the best place to be,” Jack said.

“You heard the captain. We don’t have any missile control. They can’t let loose with anything, so the deck is as safe as anywhere at the moment. Look!” Carl said, pointing six hundred yards away.

Peter the Great was lit up like the Fourth of July to the Americans. Tracer fire and the loud thump, thump, thump of her heavy twenty-millimeter gun were going crazy. Spotlights crisscrossed the water, and that was when Jack saw the enemy. Hundreds of small boatlike vessels were streaming toward the giant Russian battle cruiser. Her deck guns were laying down a withering fire. Tracers reached out like a laser beam and cut several of the small boats to pieces. Through binoculars, they all saw the largest of the ships at the center of the attacking smaller boats. The flag waving at the topmost of the mast was the exact duplicate of the flag Henri had found: the skull and crossbones of a pirate vessel.

“What in the hell is going on?” Jenks said as he, Charlie, and Jason joined them at the railing.

“Look out!” Collins cried as a spear thrown from somewhere in the dark streaked by and struck the hatch that Henri Farbeaux had just stepped from. The spear struck the steel of the hatch, and the tip bent, and the shaft nearly took the Frenchman’s head off. Jack then reacted far faster than anyone realized as he quickly unholstered his nine millimeter and shot three times at the greenish figure reaching out for the railing. As he fired, several more hands were seen reaching over the cable. Some had long, curved iron swords. More gunfire erupted from the Shiloh’s .50-caliber machine guns on the bridge wings.

Just as Collins lowered his nine millimeter, a shattering scream filled the air as several of the strange attackers burst from the side of the ship. They were all armed with the same weaponry that had killed the little girl on the island that had been newly christened Compton’s Reef. Shiloh then added her own powerful searchlights to the already surreal scene before them. Ropes made of organic sea material were thrown over the railings, and grappling hooks made of fish bone entwined between rails and cables. Farbeaux reacted fast and went to the sides and started cutting the ropes before the creatures climbing them could get a full foothold on the main deck. As Henri cut through the seaweed-like material, Jason joined him and started firing over the side. His first round caught one of the horrid-smelling attackers in the face, and the beast screamed. It was high pitched, and if it weren’t for the heavy gunfire from Shiloh’s crewmen, the noise of the injured boarder would have been earsplitting. Just as the head recoiled, the rope was cut, and the creature fell backward into three more.

Captain Johnson couldn’t believe what was happening. His ship was actually being boarded. Not since the heady days of the civil war between communists and nationalists in 1928 China had an American ship of war been attacked in this manner. Johnson grabbed the 1 MC microphone and then said the words no American warship captain had uttered in close to a hundred years: “All hands, repel boarders, repel boarders!”

Several of the strange weapons crashed through the bridge windows, and then one of the .50-caliber Brownings and one of the heavy searchlights illuminated the attackers in their boats to the port side of Shiloh. The brutal size of the American rounds caught the boats and their crewmen and chopped them to pieces.

“XO, get the anchor up. Engine room, get me some power up here. Helm, steer straight ahead. Get us moving!”

On deck, Jack heard the anchor start to raise, and Shiloh surged to life. He turned quickly and saw Master Chief Jenks and Charlie Ellenshaw as they were firing M4 assault rifles over the side. Thus far, they had kept their attackers at bay, and only a few had managed the treacherous climb to Shiloh’s deck. There were bodies floating all around the large missile cruiser. As Jack raised his head, one of the attackers who had made the climb screamed as it launched itself at him. He moved too slowly and was knocked down, and the creature seized that opportunity and pounced. Jack tried in vain to get his pistol up in time, but the attacker wedged his hand between it and the deck.

Jack looked into the animated face of his adversary, and he didn’t care for what he was seeing at all. The clear, small, sharp teeth were in full display, and the drool from its mouth spiraled down as the beast saw the opportunity. It raised the mother-of-pearl knife high into the air, and Jack prepared himself for the sharp blade to crash into his chest. The gleaming earrings and other pearl-like adornments rattled and shook as the beast, who dressed like the pirates of old, prepared to kill him.

Suddenly, the head of the attacker swung sharply to the left as a rifle butt crashed into its skull. The beast went limp, and before Jack knew what had happened, Carl was helping him to his feet. The M4 was at his side as he faced the colonel.

“Sorry. Ran out of ammo. Had me scared there for a minute, Jack. You’re slowing down a little, enough so that you let Flipper’s ugly cousin almost gut you.”

“I could say the same for you, Swabby. A little later and I would have been sushi.”

As the scream of heavy-caliber bullets streaked over into the waters, Shiloh started her run. The foam and burst of power at the stern caught several of the attackers as they climbed their ropes and made it to the stern railing, just as Shiloh took a powerful leap forward in the water. Violet spray and foam flew high into the air, and her thrust forward slung the boarders from the railing.

As Jack regained his breath after the brief struggle with death, he felt the deck beneath him heave as Shiloh used her two powerful turbojet engines to spring forward. Almost all personnel on her exposed deck lost their footing due to the acceleration of one of the world’s fastest warships.

The night sky was crisscrossed with blue, red, and green tracers. Star shells started to explode from the five-inch main mount on the foremost section of Shiloh, and their magnesium flares lit up the night sky. Luckily, they didn’t need computer guidance to fire the five-inch gun straight into the air. It was better than nothing.

“Look!” Charlie said, pointing toward the two anchored Russian ships.

Peter the Great was also slowly starting to move. Her anchor had been cut loose as her powerful engines were throttled to their stops. Only the Simbirsk was idle. And to all their horror, she was also burning from her forecastle to her bridge. Flames licked at her forward sixteen-inch gun mount, and an explosion could be seen rising high into the sky.

Collins suddenly sprang and moved quickly to the stairs leading to the bridge. He entered and saw Johnson directing the intense fire from his station at the bridge windows.

“Captain, get us over to the Simbirsk. She’s starting to burn!” Jack yelled.

Johnson had to be given credit for not even questioning the direction. He immediately ordered Shiloh’s helm hard over.

“Damage control, stand by to board Simbirsk and assist in firefighting.”

Jack nodded at Johnson and made his way down to help in the endeavor to save their only ticket home. Shiloh sped through the floating carnage of the attackers. It rammed smaller boats with their screaming crewmen and crushed them beneath her massive weight. The twin propellers slashed and mutilated those creatures that had escaped the ramming. The battle was one of the more ruthless scenes any of the experienced Event Group personnel had ever witnessed.

Of the three ships anchored that night, one was burning heavily, and the other two had been boarded by an unknown threat. All of this from sixteen small boats and the tenacious creatures that crewed them. The last thing they saw was one of the searchlights picking up the largest of the ships as it moved off into the dwindling moonlight, the pirate flag flying magnificently on the topmost sail.

The attack lasted no more than seven minutes.

14

Three hours later, the fires on board Simbirsk had been put out. The crews of Shiloh and Peter the Great examined the damage as both cruiser captains had straddled the damaged World War II warship in a protective layer that any enemy would find hard to get past. A total of over six hundred men lined the decks of both with automatic weapons as they all scanned the sea for further threats.

The two captains, Jack Collins, Carl Everett, Henri Farbeaux, and Salkukoff met at the burned fantail of the Simbirsk.

“The phase shift power plant, was it damaged at all?” Captain Kreshenko asked, looking at Jack.

“Professor Gervais and the master chief are evaluating that as we speak. Thus far, it looks as though the quick thinking of Gervais saved us from the enemy getting to the equipment. He and his assistants locked themselves inside the engine room and dogged the hatches. They couldn’t get in and were butchered by the Russian, American, and Royal Marine contingent sent by you. Obviously, we need more security aboard Simbirsk. We can’t risk losing that ship at this point.”

“Are you suggesting that these… these creatures were after the power plant?” Salkukoff asked with skepticism written on his stern face.

Collins now turned his attention to Salkukoff. “Well, let’s see here, Colonel. Their boarding parties never made an attempt to get belowdecks of either Peter the Great or Shiloh. But they did the Simbirsk. I’ve never been a big believer in coincidence, and if your files on me are as accurate as I think they are, you should know that.”

“As you say, they are accurate files, Colonel Collins. So why do we not cut to the chase, as you Americans say? Ask me your questions, and maybe I can allay your suspicions about my mission.”

“I’ll bite. What are your orders?”

At this, even Captain Kreshenko raised a brow, as he wanted the full details about Salkukoff’s mission as well. He could see that the American colonel was as suspicious about this man as himself.

“To put it bluntly, Colonel, I am here to assure my superiors are not embarrassed by this ship and the ways and means we received the technology.”

“Destroy her,” Jack said with a smirk. “But now you find yourself at cross purposes, don’t you?”

“Yes, I would indeed like to survive this, but it is not my highest priority.”

“This has nothing to do with the phase shift experiment, does it?”

All eyes went to Jack, curious at the question he had just asked. Carl even stepped closer to the Russian.

“You’re out to protect the way in which that material was stolen originally. Not only that, you’re here to stop us from finding out those sources are still active within our government, possibly even our military. That’s why you didn’t sink Simbirsk during your egress into the hurricane. You needed to know just what it was that we knew.”

“You Americans love your conspiracy theories, don’t you? This is not one of your films where the hero always figures out the dastardly scheme of the evil man. This is real life, Colonel Collins.”

“Yes, it is.” Jack turned to Kreshenko. “Captain, did you confirm with Moscow the colonel’s orders?”

The Russian captain just nodded.

“And where did that confirmation originate? Moscow?”

“No.” Kreshenko looked at Collins and shook his head. “Colonel, you are placing me in a difficult situation.”

“Yes, Captain, I am. You have close to five hundred men you’re responsible for, just as Captain Johnson does. We need to know if the only enemy we have is out there.” Jack pointed to the open sea. “Now, this man knows why the Simbirsk was targeted and why they tried to get belowdecks. We need to know why.”

All eyes again went to the Russian colonel.

“You weren’t sent to destroy Simbirsk; you were sent to salvage her and bring her home to the motherland, right?” Jack smiled as he knew he was getting warm to the truth — the same truth that Niles Compton and British MI6 wanted to get at.

“What is that?” Kreshenko asked. “What could possibly be here that Russia needs?”

“Industrial blue diamonds,” Henri answered for Jack.

“And he should know. He’s stolen enough of them from us to make the identification,” Carl said as he too eyed the Russian.

“The misguided captain is most assuredly correct, Colonel. I do know my diamonds.” Henri turned and looked at Kreshenko. “In ten years, the most advanced nations of the world will be fighting over this very limited resource for energy purposes. These fine fellows have come to utilize them in the most industrious of ways. I see them as money, but you men see them as power. Why they abound in this world and not our own will have to be explained by a geologist”—he looked at Jack and their shared memories of Sarah McIntire—“but I suspect that is the reason we have the company of your presence.”

Jack smiled and nodded at the Frenchman, who dipped his head at the colonel’s favored look.

“Speculate all you want, Colonel. My superiors want their ship and their experiment back,” Salkukoff said. “And as for your question, yes, we have recovered Simbirsk before. In 1989, she reappeared in the Black Sea with several of those disgusting creatures on board. Before we had a chance to recover her, she vanished once more. Three hundred of our men went with her. We did recover some of these from her superstructure before she did her disappearing act. Failing to recover our property will lead us to destroying her. Even with you on her, Colonel.”

“Who do you work for? Whoever they are must think you are expendable, because without your Simbirsk, you’re as stuck as we are,” Jack persisted.

“I work for my government, of course.” Salkukoff never allowed his eyes to leave Jack’s.

“The orders, as confirmed, never originated in Moscow, Colonel. I must insist you answer Colonel Collins’s question,” Kreshenko said.

Salkukoff stepped back and then looked at all of them. “I work for my government.”

“President Putin is not the head of that government, is he?” Henri asked.

“Does it really matter, Colonel Farbeaux?”

“Colonel, you have to see this,” Charlie said as he came forward with Jenks in tow. The master chief was also holding a small fire extinguisher. Ellenshaw saw the serious faces of the men standing in an angry circle, and he and Jenks stopped. “Uh, we’re all still friends here, right?” crazy Charlie asked, lowering the rag he had been trying to show Jack.

“I have a feeling we’re not, Professor,” Kreshenko said, but he was not looking at the Americans. He was staring straight at Salkukoff.

Carl turned to Charlie. “What have you got, Doc?”

Ellenshaw was silent at first as he caught the heavy vibes streaming off the angry men.

“Doc?” Everett asked again.

“Oh, this.” He held out an old red rag. It had a clear substance dripping from it. “It was recovered from the stern decking, and we suspect it was how the fire was started. Chief?”

Jenks nodded. Ellenshaw allowed the rag to drip onto the old wood decking of Simbirsk. Then Charlie eased over to Jenks and accepted a small square of steel.

“As you see, this substance doesn’t burn the wood deck, correct? Now watch this,” Ellenshaw gingerly laid the small piece of steel onto the substance. Suddenly, the liquid activated, and a magnesium-type of flare-up happened. The steel melted right before their eyes, and then when it touched the wooden deck, it slowly fizzled to nothing.

“Damn,” Carl said as he kneeled to examine the spot. “Chemical?”

“Organic,” Jenks said. “In the late ’70s, I heard rumors that the navy was experimenting with the glands of certain fish and other sea life, and they were amazed to find some of these same properties. This stuff more than likely originated with some kind of fish — clam, who knows? But it was a substance that was harvested, to be sure.” Jenks looked over at the assembled men. “Evidently, our aggressive friends from the sea are a little more knowledgeable than we gave them credit for.”

Without warning, Jack quickly reached out and deftly removed Salkukoff of his holstered weapon and then tossed it to Everett. Kreshenko looked momentarily shocked, but Salkukoff did not.

“Easy, Captain,” Henri said as he stepped up beside Kreshenko.

Everett looked from the Russian captain to Jack. Then he went to Kreshenko and handed him the Russian pistol.

“Captain, I suggest you place this man under arrest until such a time as we can get the hell out of this screwed-up world,” Collins said.

Kreshenko shocked them all by handing the pistol back to Salkukoff. “Consider yourself under arrest, Colonel. You still have the privilege of defending yourself, but you are hereby prohibited from venturing belowdecks of Simbirsk.”

“A wise decision, Captain,” he said as he holstered the pistol.

Jack looked at the two Russians and shook his head and then turned away, followed by Carl and Henri.

Ellenshaw looked at Jenks.

“We have got to start being in on these meetings.”

“Yeah, we end up missing the good stuff.”

Master Chief Jenks easily tossed Kreshenko the fire extinguisher and left with Charlie.

Just after 6:00 A.M., alarms were sounded again on all three ships. Men crowded around the railings and watched as the alarms died down to nothing as the fleet of villagers started to sail by on their small wooden ships. With their brightly colored sails pushing them through the strangely colored sea, sailors from both nations watched them go by. There were catcalls and whistles when the men of both navies saw the women inside the boats as they prepared their fishing nets for the day.

“Look at that,” Carl said as he stood next to Jack. “It’s like the world moves on for them. Death by those fish-looking pirate bastards must be close to an everyday occurrence.”

“I’m afraid you’re probably right, Swabby.”

As the hundred boats moved silently past the warships, one of the men with mud covering his face raised a hand. Unlike the day before when there was not even an indication that these small people even realized they were there, this time there was a greeting. Jack watched the headman as he lowered his arm. Jack’s mind was filled with the glee of that little girl as he gave her the saltwater taffy. Then the memory broke apart as he saw her face in death not three hours later. He turned away from the railing.

“You’re having the same thoughts on Director Compton’s edict on getting involved with indigenous people?”

Jack watched the small fishing boats vanish into the rising sun of the east and then turned and nodded. “I tend to lean more toward the Garrison Lee way of doing things.”

“Yeah, kill the bad guys, and then we’ll figure out the rest.”

“Yeah, this noninterference stuff, sometimes it’s hard to see and grasp, even coming from one of the smartest men in the world.”

A Russian commando approached Collins, and with a sour look on his face, he reported, “Colonel, I have been sent to inform you that Colonel Salkukoff has requested you join him aboard Peter the Great.” The Russian saluted, but Jack held firm. The hand remained raised just below the man’s helmet. The commando finally caught on. “We have a prisoner.”

Jack finally returned the salute, and the Russian left with an arrogant gait. He brushed by two American sailors, and one of the men made a turn to go after the commando, but Captain Johnson walked by at just the right time and shooed the men back to work. The captain, his eyes momentarily on his men, finally turned and went to Jack and Carl.

“This is getting a little tense around here,” Johnson said as he joined the two.

“I don’t think it’s going to get any better,” Jack said. “Fighting a common foe hasn’t resulted in forgetting old animosities, has it?” Collins said, and then he faced Johnson. “It seems we’ve been invited over to Peter the Great. Want a look-see at this marvel of the seas?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Johnson answered as he gestured toward the gangway and the waiting Zodiac. “But you know, I think I’ll take a marine strike team with us. I like to share my experiences.”

“And Henri,” Jack said, smiling. “I like the way the Frenchman gives Salkukoff the creeps.”

“I like that aspect also,” Johnson agreed.

“We’re starting to think more alike every hour, Captain,” Carl said as he and Jack followed the captain of Shiloh to the waiting Zodiac.

Deep in the bowels of Shiloh and her darkened CIC, several radar men were busy making adjustments to their repaired systems and failed to see that the horizon had momentarily filled with a blip that, if they had seen it, would have been comparable in size to an entire battle group, just sitting there on the horizon.

Their own three ships were about to face the entire home fleet of their aquatic enemy.

Tempers and fears remained high as sailors accustomed to having everything they ever needed supplied to them by the navy had been exhausted. They fought tooth and nail with repairing so many systems that none of them suspected they would ever see home again. Several times, Houston started sliding down the mountain shelf as her weight turned against them. The ballast tanks remained filled with seawater as they battled the pumps that would eject that water from their tanks.

“Okay,” the chief of the boat said from a crawl space. “Try her now.”

With relief exploding from his pent-up breath, Captain Thorne heard the outer and inner vents open and then just as quickly close. He squeezed his eyes shut in offered prayer, as did the tired and frightened men around him.

“That did it, Chief,” Thorne said as he winked at the young ballast control technician next to him. The chief crawled out of the small enclosed space. He was covered with sweat.

“Remind me to write one hell of a nasty letter to the Electric Boat Division about making more room behind these damn consoles!”

Thorne assisted the small career navy man to his feet and slapped him on the back. “I’ll deliver it myself, Chief.” Thorne turned and nodded back into the control room. “Okay, Gary, give her a shot of air, and we’ll see if the chief’s magic works.”

Inside the control room, Gary Devers nodded at the ballast control officer. The man closed his eyes and then turned the small switch that activated the powerful pumps. They heard it throughout the boat as the ballast pumps kicked in. Every man heard the pumps start doing their job as water was beginning to be forced from the ballast tanks.

A loud cheer went up throughout the entire length of Houston. Captain Thorne stepped through the hatchway and watched the faces of his XO and of his ballast control officer. He waited for the word.

“Pumping ballast from the boat to the sea!” the officer called out loud enough that another cheer shot through the boat.

“Gary, have the engines ready for all back.”

“Aye. Make ready for full astern, and then—”

The explosion sounded distant, but every man knew exactly what it was. Ballast control had blown another one of her precious circuit boards as the makeshift system was unable to withstand the load of the powerful pumps.

Houston settled and calmed as the pumps wound down. The lights flickered and then steadied as USS Houston started to slide down the large shelf they had come to rest upon. The boat scraped and shuddered as every man felt the boat start to speed up. And then, as suddenly as the slide of death had started, it skidded to a stop and then silently went back to her death slumber precariously close to the end of the shelf.

Thorne placed his head into the crook of his arm and then cursed their luck. They had gone through every circuit board that they found, washing machine parts to privately owned stereo equipment. Even the old movie projector had been used. It all seemed hopeless.

“Close the outside vents. It doesn’t seem Houston is ready to leave just yet,” Thorne said with a wink to those control room crew who were watching him. This time, he saw the hopelessness in their eyes as the realization struck them that odds were fast climbing they would never see the open sky again. Thorne once more brought up the 1 MC mic. He started to talk but faltered, and then he momentarily hung his head. Instead of talking to his crew like he should have, he replaced the mic and then started forward, away from the despondent eyes of his young crewmen.

As he made his way forward, he passed his sailors, and they avoided his eyes.

“Captain, have a minute?”

Thorne stopped as he wanted to turn and tell whoever it was that he had all the damn time in the world, just as they all did, but stopped when he saw the weapons officer. He just nodded once.

“Skipper, I have to report something, and I just don’t know how.”

Thorne focused fully on the young man before him. He raised his brows as he refused to allow his voice to betray his distress over Houston’s situation to show.

The officer offered the captain a small jar. Thorne took it from his hand and looked at it. He rolled the bottle over and then held it up to the light. He lowered it, and the confusion on his face was evident. The water inside had a purplish hue to it.

“What is this, some kind of contamination?”

“No, sir. The water we took on during the initial attack, or whatever it was, was normal. Seawater, nothing more. This here is still seawater, but as you can see, it’s not the right makeup of color and other nutrients from the oceans of the world.”

“Just what in the hell are you saying, Lieutenant?”

“Skipper, when we were hit, we were in a normal surrounding of ocean water. After the flooding was controlled, we sprung a few leaks here and there, but it was controllable. But what we didn’t expect was what came through those leaks. This,” he said as he tapped the water in the small jar. “I tested the ballast tanks also, Skipper. They’re full of this stuff. The seas we’re in are violet in color and lacking commercial contaminants. Nothing — no oil or other pollution we find in oceans all over the world. No matter where we are or how deep, we always have dirty seas. But this, it’s like the ocean has never seen an oil- or diesel-powered ship. Ever.”

Thorne was even more perplexed and lost. He looked at the water and then at the young face of the lieutenant.

“How many crew know about this?” he asked as he handed the sample back.

“Just me and my weapons people. But word’s spreading fast, Captain.”

“Well, there’s not a lot we can do to investigate that right now, Lieutenant.” Thorne paused and bit his lip and then came to a decision. He took the lieutenant by the shoulder and then leaned in conspiratorially. “Lock your men up. Tell the cooks in the galley to send you all your meals. You’re now too busy to stop your leaks to venture forth.” He winked. “We can’t let this spread. These boys have too much on their plate already. Hold them until we find out one way or the other about ballast control.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Thorne nodded, and the lieutenant turned and left. Alone, Thorne faced the cold bulkhead separating some of the men’s sleeping quarters from the forward torpedo room.

“Help us out here, old girl.” He patted the steel beneath his touch. It was cold.

“Skipper?”

Thorne turned to see XO Devers standing there with a young man off shift from the torpedo room. Thorne nodded as he felt betrayed by his voice once more.

“Machinist Mate Ramirez says he might have an answer to our problem. He says it’s dangerous, but he believes it may work in getting the pumps back online.”

Thorne looked at the young man who stood nervously waiting. The captain recognized the boy but could have sworn he had never exchanged so much as a hello before this day.

“Machinist Mate?”

“The Mark 48, Captain.”

“A torpedo?” Thorne asked.

“Yes, sir. I know the Mark 48 from its tail fins to her warhead. I believe inside her guidance system there is a board we can use to rig the ballast pumps.”

“I have a feeling you have a but to offer here, Ramirez.”

“Yes, sir. It’s a big but for sure. Almost the size of my wife’s.” He smiled but found no one was smiling with him.

“Go ahead, Machinist Mate Ramirez. It’s the day for bad news.”

“We have to take the Mark 48 completely apart to get to that guidance chip.”

“I suspected that much, Ramirez,” Thorne said.

“Yes, sir. I know you did, but we have to disassemble the actual warhead. It’s the chip on the circuit board that tells the Mark 48 when and where to detonate. It’s real sensitive. Even a small charge of static electricity will set off the warhead.”

Thorne closed his eyes and then suddenly opened them.

“Can you do it without blowing us from here back home? Although that’s far more acceptable than where we are now.”

“Yes, sir, but it’s like brain surgery. The boat can have no movement at all.”

“Well, great. With the gravity slides we’re experiencing, I don’t know how we’ll be able to pull that off.”

The XO and the machinist mate waited.

“Okay, Dr. Ramirez, let’s get surgery ready.”

USS Houston might not be as dead as earlier believed. But then again, with Machinist Mate Ramirez taking apart one of the world’s most powerful torpedo warheads on a boat that only wanted to slide into a deep oblivion, suffocating might have been preferable.

Thorne closed his eyes again and this time prayed for his entire crew. He touched the cold steel of Houston’s hull once more.

“One break is all we ask for, Gray Lady.”

In answer to his prayer, Houston began another slide toward the jagged edge of the mountain.

Their break might have to come in some other form.