Scrapyard Ship (13 page)

Orion interrupted Jason mid-sentence—“Captain, we have incoming. Multiple missiles.”

“Can you destroy them?”

“No time—we only have seconds and the ship’s still configured for test mode.”

“Ricket, what will those missiles do to The Lilly?” Jason asked, desperation in his voice.

“There will be no damage to the ship itself,” Ricket replied, evenly.

That was good news, but something else nagged at the back of Jason’s mind. “Shit, Billy’s maneuvers!” Jason blurted. Using his NanoCom, he hailed his friend.

“Go for Billy. What’s up, Captain?” Billy queried, but abruptly cut the connection.

“Lilly, get me a high-up visible of the ship and surrounding perimeter,” Jason commanded. The display changed to an elevated view showing The Lilly and two of Billy’s four-man SEAL teams running flat out. Still at fifty yards—they were scrambling to get back to the ship. The display flashed white and The Lilly shook. The sound of muffled explosions at the outer hull reverberated as additional incoming missiles found their target. Everything went quiet. Incapacitated by shock and then disbelief the bridge crew momentarily froze. “XO, get a team to attend the wounded. Orion, connect me to that squadron leader before they commence another run—hurry!”

“Channel is open, Captain, but they’re not talking to us,” Orion said. “But they will hear you.”

“This is Captain Jason Reynolds of The Lilly, the United Planetary Alliance vessel you have just fired upon. This is a non-hostile vessel with U.S. military personnel aboard; I repeat, this vessel has U.S. military personnel aboard.” Jason listened for some kind of acknowledgment.

“This is Admiral Malinda Cramer, commanding officer at Air Station Meridian. You will comply with the following directives. First, you will prepare to be boarded and allow full access by U.S. military personnel. Second, you will relinquish all weapons and…” Jason cut off the admiral.

“Ma’am, I apologize, but that’s simply not going to happen. And I feel once you understand the situation, you’ll support our continued actions.”

“Captain Reynolds was it? When a foreign vessel enters United States air space without prior clearance and then proceeds to fire a nuclear weapon—let me be perfectly clear, nothing short of a declaration of war will be levied on the responsible nation. The seriousness of this is monumental.”

“Admiral, are you aware of the alien vessel in high orbit around the planet?”

“Of course,” she replied, her irritation mounting.

“Our single most important initiative right now is to either capture that vessel or destroy it. This vessel, the one you sent three AIM-7 Sparrow missiles at was unaffected. Although the eight U.S. SEAL team members conducting training maneuvers on the ground, were most likely killed. If you think we can’t destroy anything the U.S. military, or any other military force could throw at us, I suggest you take another look at that solid granite ridgeline.” There was a pause and Jason could here papers shuffling—undoubtedly, the admiral had been handed a dossier by her support staff, bringing her up to speed on who she was talking to.

“You’re a Navy SEAL, Lieutenant Commander. You’re the late Admiral Perry Reynolds’s son—am I correct?” The admiral queried Jason. “I knew of your father. A fine officer.”

“Yes, ma’am. I was previously a SEAL commander on the U.S. Tripoli; presently Captain on this vessel. And yes, I am Admiral Perry Reynolds’s son, guilty as charged. Although he’s still very much alive.” Jason said, knowing how far-fetched that must sound.

“Captain, Admiral Reynolds has been reported missing, most likely dead, for over fifteen years. Are you telling me this information is incorrect?”

“Yes, I discovered this fact myself just a few short days ago—this was his ship. Admiral Reynolds has been fighting an interstellar war with an alien race called the Craing. And yes, I do know how absolutely ridiculous that sounds. The ship in high orbit around Earth is a Craing light cruiser. Their intentions are to infiltrate Earth.”

“And the reason your father didn’t work through normal government or military channels?” the admiral asked Jason, disbelief in her voice.

“You’re asking the same questions I had, Ma’am. It’s important that you understand the Craing have been preparing this invasion for many years. They are patient and this isn’t their first infiltration. From what my father has indicated, human-like Craing beings have infiltrated the highest levels of our government and military. There was no one in authority here he could trust. But right now, I need to attend to my fallen crewmembers. And by the way, I see one jet fighter, in fact, military vehicles of any kind approaching—it will be destroyed and any resulting deaths will be on your head.” Jason needed to get off the bridge. “Please contact your superiors and we can resume this conversation, let’s say two hours from now.” Jason got up and headed for the exit. “You have the con, XO,” he declared over his shoulder.

Medical was a flurry of commotion. Four of the MediPods were already filled with injured SEAL team members, and Dira was helping to situate another man into the remaining capsule. Fresh blood covered the bottom half of her grey jumpsuit. She looked up when Jason arrived. “What the hell happened out there?” Dira asked him, her tone accusing. “I need Ricket; where’s that damn robot?” Just then Ricket darted into Medical.

Beginning with the first MediPod, he checked on each of the displays, made adjustments where needed, moving on then to the next pod, and then the next. Jason looked through the small observation window on each of the MediPods, then rushed into an adjacent semi-circular room configured with twenty or so hospital-type beds, each bed perpendicular to the curved bulkhead. Here lay three more men with varying degrees of injury. Billy Hernandez occupied the centermost bed.

“Captain, over here.” Billy beckoned Jason with a wave. His sleeve had been cut away and a bandage encircled the top portion of his arm.

“How’s your team? What’s the extent of your injuries, Billy?” Jason inquired, evident concern in his voice.

“Twenty-five were in the mess hall feeding their faces. Sixteen of us of were on maneuvers. Of those, half were on the far side of the ship—just inside the fighter bay. Then all hell rained down on us. I’m fine, but Lieutenant Morgan here has, um—”

“Cavitation wounds,” Dira interjected, entering the room. She quickly moved to the side of Morgan and checked his vitals. “He should be OK, once we get him into an available MediPod. Unfortunately, some of the men there won’t require any further medical attention.”

“How many injured—what’s the count on fatalities?” Jason asked, aware that Dira still hadn’t looked at him.

“From what I understand, all the men who were outside the ship were vaporized, I’m sorry.” Dira said sympathetically to Billy.

“Those were eight of the finest men—” the words caught in his throat. Overwhelmed by emotion, Billy blinked his eyes in rapid succession.

Dira continued on for Billy: “The eight men outside the ship were killed, two more standing in the open fighter bay are also dead. It looks like the remaining six will recover.”

Jason nodded and took another look around the room.

“Where’s Mollie right now?” Jason queried.

“She’s fine. I asked Seaman Plimpton not to let her out of his sight and to take her down to the Zoo.”

The Captain’s brow furrowed. “The cook?”

“Yes, the cook. He’s also super responsible and someone I trust.” Dira moved on to attend to an unconscious patient with several burns on his upper torso and face. “I was going to let you know as soon as things settled down here.”

“Thank you. Is there anything else I can do to help? You need other support staff?”

Dira nodded. “Billy mentioned several of his boys below were also EMTs. They’re already on their way up.”

Jason looked at Billy. “I need to return to the bridge.”

Billy pulled an IV tube from his arm, swung his feet off the bed and stood. “And I’ve also got work to do,” Billy said.

Jason looked over to Dira who gave a resigned shrug. “Just try to take it easy, Billy, you’ve been through a lot.”

He nodded and headed out of Medical.

Jason found Ricket still helping with the MediPod casualties in the next room. The two EMT’s had arrived and were busy helping out: one was using a vacuum device to remove blood off the floor, while the other was positioning a dead SEAL into a body bag.

“Captain, we have company,” Perkins transmitted into his NanoCom.

“On my way.” Jason was already running for the bridge. Ricket looked up and followed close on his heels.

Chapter 9

“Well, Admiral Cramer obviously didn’t take your threats to heart, Captain, “his XO said, watching the scene unfold on the display console.

Jason shook his head. “Those approaching transport helicopters are U.S. Army-led. They’re following their own command structure.”

“Captain, we’ve got troop movement and a convoy of tanks rolling across the desert in our direction,” Orion reported from her console.

“How far out, Gunny?”

“They’re twenty minutes from our position. We’re being hailed by the admiral—it’s been two hours.”

Jason said, “Admiral, this is Captain Reynolds.”

“Captain, by now you have undoubtedly noticed the activity off to your north.”

“Army deployment. We talked about this, Admiral,” Jason bristled.

“Let’s just say the army was not receptive to the navy negotiating on their behalf. Leaving that subject for the time being, I’ve been on the horn non-stop for the last hour to the Pentagon, Joint Chiefs of Staff, as well as to the president. To be honest, there’s very little consensus between them all.”

Jason continued to watch as several Apache-attack helicopters landed, joining the distant formation. The last thing he wanted to do was fight against the same people he was trying to protect. “From the looks of things, our military forces have decided to go on the offensive. Let me ask you this. What will it take to change their attack plans from being adversarial, to working together with us in fighting a mutual threat?”

“They simply don’t trust you, Jason. As far as they’re concerned you’re still a Lieutenant Commander in the U.S. Navy, up on charges for second-degree murder, as well as being AWOL.”

“There’s more than a few of us who are AWOL on this ship. Let me ask you personally, Admiral. Do you believe me?”

There was a longer pause than Jason hoped for, but the answer eventually came. “Yes, as I said before, I knew your father—know your father. I’ve looked through your records and you are a fine officer, although monumentally impetuous. I’ll back you, Jason. I’m just not sure how far that will go.”

“Thank you, Admiral, that means a lot to me. But the simple fact of the matter is we, and that means us here on this ship, as well as everyone else on this planet, don’t have much time. A Craing fleet is en route; unfortunately you’ll have to take my word for it.”

“I do, others won’t.” The Admiral said, with regret.

Jason had the beginnings of an idea, “I take it this conversation is being monitored, even by the Joint Chiefs of Staff—Yes?”

“That’s probably a good assumption.”

“Okay, I have an idea. Probably relates to that impetuousness you just referred to. Admiral, I’ll get back to you within a half hour, if that’s acceptable. Oh, and please convey my apologies to Army higher command for the trouble they’ve gone to out here, but we’re leaving Texas.”

Jason gestured for Orion to cut the connection. “XO, let’s get the ship prepped for another flight. McBride, set a new course, this time for Washington D.C. I’d like to be off the ground in ten minutes. Orion, have Billy meet me in the mess hall with the remainder of his team. XO, you have the bridge.”

Billy had assembled his team as instructed. Jason entered the mess hall and, as usual, Ricket was not far behind. Using his virtual tablet Jason enlarged the display to several feet out in diameter, and proceeded to outline his plan. Billy had put on a new jumpsuit and seemed no worse for wear. He and his men paid close attention to what would be expected from them.

There were more than a few open-mouthed blank stares. Billy smirked, “So you’re really not shitting us—we’re doing this?”

* * *

Back in the command chair, Jason checked his tablet one more time. Ricket had configured it to access the Internet. Even with the incalculable processing capabilities of the AI, Jason still felt more comfortable
Googling
certain things.

“We’re ready to lift off, Captain,” the XO said. Jason looked up at the display, curious how this new view was even possible—maybe from a piggybacked signal from an orbiting satellite? The Lilly truly was something to behold, the sweeping curve of her matte-black hull, and the overall simplicity of her lines—set against the stark contrast of the surrounding desert landscape. At a parameter of several miles up, he saw four military fortifications had been erected. Each one appeared like a small anthill with a flurry of activity—little black ants moving this way and that.

“When you’re ready, McBride, take us up to low orbit and then back down to the specified coordinates”

The ensign acknowledged the command, although he looked even more nervous than usual. The ship lifted off and hovered for several moments before it made a gentle sweep upwards toward the stratosphere. Jason looked toward the rear of the screen’s 360-degree display, which showed the ascending view from the ship’s stern. He wondered if the hundreds, if not thousands, of military personnel were looking up at her swift ascent, and were disappointed there wouldn’t be a fight today.

“Again, everyone, this only works if we have the element of surprise. Billy, you in position?”

“Aye, sir. Teams are in position—one forward and one aft,” Billy replied.

“Sir, we’re starting to make our descent. McBride relayed from his seat at the helm. The display changed from the dark nothingness of the upper stratosphere to the rapidly approaching North American eastern seaboard and the bright blue Atlantic to the east. “We’re at 1,000 miles, Captain.” Said McBride. “Shields and signal dampeners are up.”