To Sail a Darkling Sea

CHAPTER 3

“Lieutenant, Lieutenant, Staff Sergeant, have a seat,” said “Wolf,” gesturing to the table.

Januscheitis sort of knew the Marine Lieutenant. He’d been an XO in Charlie. The Navy Lieutenant, equivalent of a Marine Captain, he didn’t know. "

“Wolf” looked tired. He should, from the little Januscheitis had picked up. He wasn’t sure how big the “Voyage” thing was but from what people had said it was the size of a supercarrier with about as many compartments. And now here the “Commodore” was clearing the Iwo with one Marine, one SF Staff and a thirteen-year-old split. Who, admittedly, was pretty fucking bad-ass.

“The pamphlet you were given only covers rough details,” Smith said. “And it glosses over a lot of things. The Joint Chiefs is a group of colonels or equivalent and one general… ”

“Excuse me, sir?” the Navy LT said.

“You heard me, Lieutenant,” Smith said. “There are probably more senior officers who’ve survived. Somewhere. But the current acting CNO, being someone who is actually in communication and in direct contact with the NCCC, is a commander. Given that our current count on Navy personnel who are not essentially trapped in subs is… ” He consulted a list. “Seventeen, he’s actually overranked. But we are, now, starting to have some semblance of an actual military force, US military at that, and the question of who is legally permitted to give orders has come up. So, I had a talk with the Chiefs and the NCCC and now you are going to have a chat with the Chiefs, or at least the Navy commander in the Hole and a sub commander that slightly outranks him. Their decision… surprised me. And not in a good way. But they’ll explain it to you.”

He turned his laptop around and nodded as he got up.

“I apparently have to go find a uniform somewhere… ”

* * *

“Lieutenant Joseph Pellerin?” the commander on the screen asked. It was split three ways. The person talking was in some sort of meeting room. One of the guys was a civilian, also in a meeting room; one was another Commander with the background of a sub con.

“Yes, sir,” Pellerin said, cautiously.

“I’m Commander Louis Freeman. The gentleman in the suit is Under Secretary Frank Galloway, the National Constitutional Continuity Coordinator.”

“I was formerly the Under Deputy Secretary of Defense for Nuclear Arms Proliferation Control,” Galloway said. “I was number one hundred and twenty-six on the list of potential NCCCs or Acting Presidents.”

“Hundred and twenty-six?” Januscheitis whispered.

“Also present is Commander Alan Huskey, skipper of the Florida,” Commander Freeman said. “Although I am, technically, the head of the Navy by various regulations, Commander Huskey has me by date of rank as well as being a boomer commander. I have not yet had a command of any vessel as a Commander. It’s not a split in command in any way. But we thought he should be present.”

“Yes, sir,” Pellerin said, blinking.

“You’re barely out of the ship, Lieutenant,” Huskey said, his arms crossed. His uniform fit him loosely and he had the look of prolonged malnutrition. “Are you sure you and your people are up for a difficult conversation?”

“Possibly,” Pellerin replied.

“That would be yes or no, Lieutenant,” Huskey said. “Possibly is not the correct answer.”

“Sir… ” Pellerin said, with a touch of rancor. “It’s not that I just got out of a compartment. Mine had plenty of food and water. I… maintained discipline… ”

“I’ll ignore the pauses,” Galloway said, smiling thinly. “If you’re wondering about the question of ‘what happened in the compartment’… ”

“I’m wondering about the whole thing, Mister Under Secretary,” Pellerin said. “From my perspective, I’m looking at some people in ill-fitting uniforms on a computer. You could all be sitting in the bowels of this ship for all I know. And, yes, I saw a sub on the surface and a couple of people in Coast Guard uniform. But… ”

“You’re suspicious,” Huskey said. “Okay. You saw a sub. How many subs would it take to convince you that Mister Galloway is, functionally, the Acting President and that I and Commander Freeman continue to control all military personnel who are in contact? Because, Lieutenant, that’s the reality. As is the reality that we’re still in a cleft stick. Which we need Wolf Squadron to pull us out of and thus we need Wolf.”

Januscheitis tapped the Navy Lieutenant on the shoulder and waved for some screen time.

“You have input, Staff Sergeant?” Pellerin said, coldly.

“How many subs are there around here, sirs?” Januscheitis asked. “Can you say? With due respect?”

“Not many, frankly,” Huskey replied. “Most of them are in position… elsewhere. Or deep. But are most of the attack boats in the Atlantic around Wolf Squadron? Yes. No reason for them not to be. There is not much else going on. The rest are generally maintaining security for our boomers-such as this one-and providing security to the extent they can for certain coastal installations. What is it going to take for you to recognize that you have a chain of command again, short as it is, Lieutenant?”

“Sir, I… ” Pellerin said then paused as the compartment door opened.

“I was told I should be present for this, sir,” the Marine Gunny said. He was skinny as a rail and his eyes were glossy but his back was still ramrod straight. “Gunnery Sergeant Tommy J. Sands, sir, reporting for duty.”

“Gunny Sands,” Januscheitis said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Jesus.”

“No, a Gunny,” Sands said, walking over and shaking his hand. “But I can see where people get confused. Janu,” he said, clapping him on the back. “Good to see you made it.”

“Thank you, Gunnery Sergeant,” Januscheitis said. He was clearly trying not to cry.

“Get your shit together, Marine,” Sands said. “Sorry, sirs. Old home week.”

“Not a problem, Gunny,” Pellerin said. “We are discussing… We are discussing the CV of persons who are allegedly the remaining chain of command. I am not dismissing that, sirs, it’s just… ”

“I guess caution is in order,” Galloway said, drily. “Gunnery Sergeant, if you’d care to join us.”

“Yes, sir?” Sands said. Januscheitis was already up and waved him to the seat. “And we’re meeting with…?”

“The acting CNO,” Huskey said. “Which is Commander Freeman on your screen, as well as the NCCC. Are you familiar with… ”

“I’m familiar with the Succession act, sir,” Sands said. “And the TS codicils, sir. Under Secretary… Galloway is it? Sir?”

“Yes, Gunny,” Galloway said, surprised.

“I heard since I got sprung that you was in the Hole, sir,” Sands said. “May I ask if there’s a Marine officer, sir?”

“Colonel Ellington,” Galloway said.

“So that’s where they stuffed that poor bastard,” Sands said, shaking his head.

“Colonel Ellington is… present, Gunnery Sergeant,” Galloway said, wincing.

“Sorry, sir,” Sands said as Ellington came up on the screen. “I never got a chance to say it, personally, sir, but I was real sorry to hear about your wife. She was one in a million, sir. They broke the mold.”

“Thanks, Tommy,” Ellington said. “What with everything that’s going on… ” He shook his head. “And I’d agree about the breaking the mold if it weren’t for the young lady doing clearance… ”

“Shewolf, sir?” Sands said, grinning. “That girl scares me.”

“You really have to see the video of her boarding the Voyage,” Ellington said. “Especially one with her comment about a ‘back-up plan.’”

“Bradburn from the Dallas literally fell out of his chair on that one,” Commander Huskey said.

“You know each other,” the NCCC said.

“The gunny was a security sergeant when I was a maintenance officer at Kings Bay, sir,” Ellington said.

“And I was stuck in the Pentagon when you were working in prolif, Mister Galloway,” Sands said. “I recognize you. I was over in Colonel Grant’s shop.”

“Lieutenant Pellerin,” Galloway said. “Does this satisfy your questions as to our validity?”

“Yes, sir,” Pellerin said. “Again, sir, no disrespect… ”

“Understood,” Galloway said. “So, turning the matter over to Commander Freeman again. Commander?”

“Situation as it stands,” Freeman said. “This was, apparently, the only headquarters uninfected by the Plague. There are no other US command posts responding. POTUS was unable to access NEACAP due to possible compromise of the pilots, headed to Mount Weather in a heavy ground convoy and was never heard from again. Similar story on the VPOTUS although VPOTUS was headed for Raven Mountain and there was a definite report her ground convoy was compromised. Mount Weather, which held a good bit of the Congress and Cabinet, was responding for a period of time then reported they were compromised and stopped responding. Raven Mountain, President of the Senate, other half of the cabinet, etcetera, simply went off the air. Boulder: compromised. Sunnyvale: compromised. I could go on but I won’t. We appear to be it.

“There are a number of uninfected submarines, the exact number is still classified, at sea. They have limited stores. All of the subs are fishing for their supper.”

“It’s really amazing what you can do with active if you don’t have to worry about being detected,” Commander Huskey said.

“To free the submarine crews, as well as our own facility someday, hopefully, as well as, well, save the world, will require vaccine,” Freeman continued. “There are two types of vaccine. One is made from vat-grown proteins. This is a very complicated process. The other requires certain materials and equipment that is unavailable at sea. At least, as far as we have been able to determine. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes, sir,” Pellerin said.

“The second type mostly requires the spine of a zombie, if I remember right, sir,” Sands said.

“What?” the, to this point silent, Marine Lieutenant said.

“That is correct, Gunny,” Freeman said. “Or any infected higher-order primate. The CDC and USAMRIID produced such vaccine from rhesus monkeys for their personnel as well as certain critical government officials. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough to get everybody that needed it. The way it is made is to separate the virus bodies from the spinal cord then irradiate them. The irradiation has to be extremely fine, more fine than can be done with a reactor. It takes either a radiation therapy machine or a certain type of dental x-ray machine. Also some specific lab equipment and materials. But with that and, yes, the spinal cord of an infected higher order primate, you have vaccine. And a bunch of other ‘stuff.’ ”

“Wolf had access to that type of vaccine prior to leaving the States,” Galloway said. “And someone close to him, we believe his wife, assisted in its production.”

“Oh,” Januscheitis muttered. “That had to be cold.”

“At this point, I’m not going to pass moral or legal judgment,” Galloway said then shrugged. “Given the… the way that the infected were ‘cared’ for was horrific. And it’s been shown that the virus does permanent damage. There is no ‘cure’ as such. CDC has confirmed that in animal testing. Using them as a source of vaccine would have been, in retrospect, a much better choice. But that is twenty-twenty hindsight and no-one was even willing to openly broach the idea prior to the Fall. The point is that not only does Wolf have the knowledge to produce the vaccine, he has a plan which may provide the equipment and materials. He also… has been and continues to be the main driving force of this rescue operation which is the only such rescue operation ongoing in the world. At least of its size.”

“This is it, sir?” Lieutenant Pellerin said. “Some small craft and a couple of ships?”

“That’s it, Lieutenant,” Huskey said. “Smith had the combination of being vaccinated and having a boat that was sufficiently stored, armed and safe to hold out until the Plague had run its course. There are one or two other small groups in other oceans but they are even smaller than what you’ve seen.”

“We just finished a long conversation with the admittedly fatigued commodore,” Galloway said. “Our conclusion was to give the commodore a US Navy Captaincy.”

“Sorry, sir,” Gunny Sands said. “A Captaincy, sir?”

“Yes, Gunnery Sergeant,” Galloway said. “That would, we are aware, put him in command of not only yourselves but all of the Navy commanders at sea. Mister Smith, pardon, Captain Smith, is fully aware that this is an ambiguous situation. The explanation for this decision is long. Would you like it?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Pellerin said. “I would, sir.”

“Are you familiar with Wendell Fertig, Lieutenant?” Galloway asked.

“Oh,” Gunny Sands said, nodding. “That makes sense, now, sir.”

“No, sir,” Pellerin said, frowning. “Was he a Marine?”

“Fertig was, prior to World War Two, a civilian civil engineer in the Philippines,” Galloway said. “He was direct commissioned an Army captain shortly before the war broke out. He was rapidly promoted to major, definitely, and according to some reports to lieutenant colonel although the Army never confirmed that.

“After the fall of the Philippines to the Japanese, he began organizing guerillas. Recognizing that they would never follow a major or possibly lieutenant colonel, he styled himself a brigadier general. And it worked. By the time MacArthur landed, there were thirty thousand Filipinos under arms and MacArthur was greeted by a marching band.

“It was a matter of social values systems as well as competence. Various persons in history have styled themselves Generalissimo something or another. Fertig was, in fact, competent to organize and develop a guerilla movement. But he also needed the cachet of being a general, not a major. The entire thing was, as ‘Wolf Squadron’ is, a cult of personality. A barbarian band more than a military force. It is about getting lots of people to do stuff, quoting Wolf, ‘for no other reason than that I ask.’

“You are currently the senior Navy officer who is not essentially trapped. But no one knows who ‘Lieutenant Pellerin’ is. Everyone knows of Commodore Wolf. He did not style himself that way, by the way, the moniker was given to him by his captains. Which is sort of the point. With an actual captaincy, he has both his cult of personality and controlling legal authority. And he is the man with the plan who, thus far, has been succeeding. Thus the ‘competence’ part. I will not say that there are not questions and a degree of angst. Captain Smith, himself, expressed some negativity about the captaincy. Among other things, he expressed that he intends to continue to consider himself essentially acting in independent command. His exact words were ‘Okay, but don’t joggle my elbow.’ ”

“This is an old fashioned approach,” Huskey said. “Lieutenant, we are brought up in a professional environment of low-key officership. It’s about standing out just enough. Stand out too much, make too many waves, and you’re never going to make captain much less admiral. Just do your job professionally and stand out that way. But… Things change. There’s been this thing called the Plague that has wiped out most of humanity. People need someone who does stand out. Someone to follow. A legend, if you will. Smith has created that.”

“Half militia, half regular forces,” Sands said. “Mixing that will be… difficult, sir.”

“Regular officers will retain much of the actual control,” Galloway said. “We’re not going to give him the keys to a boomer and he sure as heck cannot order a nuclear strike. Be that as it may, the decision has been made. Steven John Smith is now a Captain in the United States Navy and outranks everyone else he may run across for the time being. You are, Lieutenant, Gunnery Sergeant, shortly to be under his command. There remains only one small detail to complete.”

“Which is, sir?” Pellerin asked.

“It is required by law that a commissioned officer swear in a commissioned officer,” Huskey said, drily. “And since none of us can so much as shake his hand… ”

* * *

General Orders, Wolf Squadron…

Steven John Smith directly commissioned Ensign, USN.

Steven John Smith promoted Captain, USNR.

Captain Steven John Smith, USNR, appointed Commander, Atlantic Fleet.