Chapter 39
Trying to keep that damn reporter from cornering me was becoming a challenge. I'd gone to the wardroom to get a cup of coffee before going on watch and she was there along with her cameraman. She'd interviewed nearly everyone on ship, and from what I was being told had asked too many questions about me. It figured, since she'd interviewed me before, that first time the school board had tried to kick Brian and me out of school, but this was just ridiculous.
Forget all the time travel crap, I was just another sailor doing his job and didn't want any attention from her kind.
The last few weeks had been both tedious and hair-raising. Hunting subs was never easy work, and forming a blockade over an important stretch of water was even more difficult. A good sub driver could sneak past our blockade in the Gulf of Aden and wreak havoc in the ocean that was quickly filling up with tankers and escort ships, and soon ships filled with troops. The Red Sea, and Suez Canal, was the best route for Soviet subs to come, and after smashing their base in Yemen, we'd been tasked with keeping them out.
"Lt. Jones, please report to Radio for CRITIC." The 1MC announcement caught me by surprise. I was due on watch in ten minutes, but CRITIC traffic would take precedence. It was rare these days that I'd get information from shore that could not be delivered by a radioman, so this must be hot. Turning around, I quickly trudged up the eight flights of stairs to the Radio Room. They had a cipher lock that I had to correctly depress the keys on before I could go inside, and the Radio Officer, Lieutenant Holden was waiting for me.
"It's on the JQ3-S1 console." He told me with a nod. I went over to the console, put on the headset and keyed in my personal codes to allow transmission to continue. The satellite accepted the code and the next thing I knew, a printer was spewing out several pages of data. The top delivery line was interesting: TOP SECRET: PARADOX CLEARANCE REQUIRED - LT. DAVID R. JONES EYES ONLY
This meant not even Admiral Pollock could see this message and that it had to do with time travel. The first few lines had my eyebrows rising to my hairline and I let out a slow whistle. I was twenty minutes late for my watch by the time I finished reading, and I still had to shred and burn the papers. When that was done, I turned to leave the Radio Room with the watchful eyes of the crew staring at me, but was stopped by Lt. Holden again.
"Lieutenant, this also came for you." He told me, holding out another Top Secret message, this one less classified than the other I'd just read. I signed it and took it with me as I headed for Combat. My attention was scattered and I nearly ran down a few crewmembers as I looked at the second message. It was nearly as serious and I had to whistle slowly. Admiral Pollock was busy with a senior staff meeting in the O-3 level conference room. As an assistant department head, I should have been there, but I was needed on watch in the Combat Information Center.
"It's about time you got here." Lt. Commander McManus said as I entered Combat.
"An important message came in." I said with a shrug and we talked about the tactical situation and all the things I would need for the watch and then he started to head off for the meeting he was now late for. "Can you tell the Captain I need to see him as soon as he's available please?"
"Sure, have a good watch." Bob McManus said as he left with a smile and a wave.
As I sat in Combat listening to the hum of normal activity, I reflected on what I'd read in the now-burned transmission. The information in the first transmission had my head spinning worse than one of the new Operations Specialists. OS3 Thomas had come on board towards the end of the refit in Diego Garcia. He'd been the crewmember of the Long Beach I'd met in my previous lifetime. I'd spent one glorious weekend in bed with him, and we'd talked a lot. I'd also wanted to see him more, but he had the emotional range of a teaspoon. Still, if it hadn't been for the fact that I loved Brian so much, and the Navy's rules on fraternization, I'd have been tempted by his 6'3" well-muscled body and bleach blond hair. Tonight though, I barely noticed he was on duty as I mulled over the messages I'd just received.
Tomorrow night, October 25th, twenty Soviet subs would get inside our formation and sink every ship in this Task Force. Tonight, October 24th, though, we were safe. Thank god the transmission came through now, when I didn't have to interrupt the Admiral in the middle of the meeting. The second message was even more troubling in its own way, and although I should technically inform the Admiral who was also captain of this ship, I could take steps to implement it without his permission.
"Lt. Darnell." I said softly. The young officer got up from his console and came over to me with a pensive expression. He was the officer in charge of our anti-sub weaponry and had spent the last few nights very busy with a problem we had on the starboard torpedo tubes. He was a Lieutenant (Junior Grade), one step below me, and until a few months ago had been a cadet at the Naval Academy, in the year above me.
"Yes sir?" He said as he got within whispering distance.
"By order of the National Command Authority, and with the concurrence of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, you are hereby directed and required to remove the safety interlocks on the ASROC depth charge currently in cell four of the ASROC launcher." I said as quietly as I could. His eyes went wide and I didn't wait for him to ask before showing him the second Top Secret message.
"Why isn't the Captain giving the order?" He asked me softly after reading the confirmation of my order.
"I'm under orders to keep this as quiet as possible." I told him truthfully. "If I pulled him out of the meeting, half the ship would know within an hour. I'm going to meet with him when they're done. Take your most senior person to do this personally, and make sure no one talks."
"Okay." He said softly before walking out. Senior Chief Lofton had watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow but turned back to his screen. Nodding to the Senior Chief, I walked forward to the small, separate compartment that held the sonar team. I had been in here a few times, but sonar wasn't something I was good at.
"Good evening, Lt. Jones." Chief Briley said with a smile as I entered.
"Good evening, Chief." I said in polite answer. "How are things in here tonight?"
"Busy, sir." The chief replied. "We have a lot of biologics around and this sonar isn't the best in the world. Even the Spruance-class ships are having problems tonight."
"Well, spread the word to keep an extra eye out for the next few days. Make sure the other ships get that word as well." I advised. The sonar teams on the different ships often talked to each other to coordinate their searches, and this was a good way to increase vigilance quietly. "I've got a gut feeling we're going to see some company."
"Will do, sir." The Chief said as I turned to go back out into the main Combat area. I groaned when I saw Helen Cantrell, the reporter, standing near Senior Chief Lofton. She'd finally cornered me since the Admiral had given her access to Combat.
"Ah, there you are Mr. Jones." Helen said as she crossed the room towards me. I let out a groan and decided I might as well deal with her here and now.
"Helen, it's good to see you again." I said politely, taking her hand and shaking it gently. I walked towards the command area of Combat and she followed me. "Let's see, last time we met was back in Modesto, at the school board meeting, if I'm correct."
"Yes, that's right." She said with a pleased smile. "I'm glad you remembered me from back then. I've been trying to get an interview with you. You're the last one of the officers to talk to about the Battle of Yemen and from everything I've heard you are responsible for much of the victory that day."
"Helen, I'm only going to say this once." I said firmly. "I'm part of the crew here, just one of the many junior officers. The Admiral is the one who led us in battle, and this crew, and the crew of the other ships, is the ones who made it a victory. Every man and woman in the Task Force did their duty to the best of their ability, and that is why we won, not because of any single person."
"That's a very noble way of…" Helen began to say, but was cut off by a yell from the Sonar room.
"Mr. Jones!" Chief Briley yelled out from the hatch to Sonar. "Leftwich is reporting a possible contact in a mass of biologicals. They think the contact just flooded torpedo tubes."
"Sound General Quarters!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. I leaned over to the point defense console and turned the Phalanx cannons to full automatic. Most of the time they weren't on full automatic, especially with friendly ships nearby, since in the past they'd been known to fire on ANYTHING that got within a mile of the ship, including other ships. "Chief, go active on all sonar systems. All ships are to go active! Prepare all anti-sub weapons for snap-shots!"
The data had been wrong! It wasn't the 25th when the attack happened; it was now, the 24th of October. I should have interrupted the Admiral's meeting! I should have…
"VAMPIRE VAMPIRE VAMPIRE!" Senior Chief Lofton's voice rang out, cutting off my stream of self-recriminations. The General Quarters alarm had just finished sounding and a boatswain's mate was giving the traditional call to battle stations at the same time the Senior Chief called out the dreaded fact that sub-launched missiles were inbound.
"Sonar contact bearing 245, range approximately eight miles!" Chief Briley shouted from sonar. The incoming missiles were too close for engagement with the Mk. 41 vertical launch missiles. Our point-defenses would have to handle the incoming missiles. The Phalanx mounts roared to life, and I watched the tactical screen as first one, then two, and then three missiles were destroyed. They were the slower, less-powerful, version of anti-ship missile, but still fast enough that at eight miles our point-defenses couldn't hit all five of them. The ship shook and a loud roar filled my ears as I was knocked to the deck when the fourth missile hit us just at the water line. I had barely started to pick myself up when the fifth hit us and the tactical screens flickered before coming back to life.
"We're hit on the water line, port side forward and O-3 level of the forward superstructure!" One of the senior petty officers shouted, his voice barely audible over the ringing in my ears. I picked myself up and got into the command chair, buckling myself in just in case we were hit again.
"Turn us around so that any more missiles face our starboard Phalanx!" I ordered. The forward port mount was damaged, the aft port was out of ammunition, and the aft central was almost out of ammunition. I could see that for myself on the screens"Damage report!"
"DCA reports we're taking water from a hole in the port side and there's a massive fire on the O-2, O-3, and O-4 levels." Ensign Kathby shouted. She'd arrived just before the missiles hit and was clutching her side from where she'd been thrown against a computer console during the explosion. "Port side SPY-1 panel is heavily damaged, and tactical systems are on back up. We've lost radio connections and satellite comms. We still have local tactical net."
"Where's that sub?" I shouted, for the moment blocking out the dire status of the other ships in the group.
"It's at seven miles and closing at flank speed for a torpedo shot." Chief Briley yelled. It was still out of range of ASROC, but wouldn't be for long. Then again, when it was in range of ASROC, we'd be in range of their torpedoes as well.
"Tell the bridge to set course zero-nine-six true and make rotations for maximum speed!" I ordered. We needed room, and time, so I gave orders for us to run away temporarily. "Tell any other ships we can reach to follow us and get clear as well."
"Done, sir." Senior Chief Lofton said. He was holding the side of his head where a bruise was forming. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and was surprised to see blood on my fingers.
"What's happening?" Helen Cantrell said from where a crewman was helping her to her feet.
"We're fighting for our lives, Ms. Cantrell." I said firmly and put her out of my mind. The second message I'd received was burning a hole in my shirt pocket right now and I knew there was no more time for delay. "Senior Chief, where's the Admiral?"
"Sir, he's presumed dead at this time." Lofton said and I did a double-take. His eyes bored into mine. "The meeting was in the O-3 level which is currently ablaze. Most of the senior officers were in there with him."
"Who is the senior officer now?" I demanded angrily. I was angry because there was no way in hell I wanted to be senior officer with these orders in my pocket.
"Sir, Lt. Commander Reed is the Damage Control Assistant, but he's not a line officer. Commander Rock, the Chaplain has reported in to his battle station, as has Lt. Commander Corner, our doctor. None of them are line officers and are unable to take command."
"Who is the senior Line Officer?" I asked, this time with a hoarse voice.
"Sir, you're senior by two days over Lieutenant Saunders, the current Officer of the Deck on the bridge."
"Fuck." I said so loudly everyone could here.
"Sir, you have command of this ship unless a more senior officer makes it out of the O-3 level and is fit to take command." Senior Chief Lofton said in a voice that reminded me of my duties. The officer in command must show nothing but confidence in himself and his crew. Senior Chief Lofton was doing his job as a good Chief, getting the officer calmed down and focused on his duty.
"Very well, Senior Chief, please note in the log that I have temporarily assumed command." I said in a firm, confident voice. I could feel Helen Cantrell's eyes on me and a quick glance showed she had a small tape recorder out. I almost ordered it turned off, but realized that in the hearings that would follow these events, it might be good to have an accurate transcript of everything that occurred now. Not to mention that tonight would be one for the history books. "Is the ASROC launcher still functional?"
"Yes, sir, it is." Lieutenant (JG) Darnell said as he re-entered the CIC. His uniform was dirty and he was clutching his right arm. "Your…orders…have been carried out as well."
"Very well, Lieutenant, resume your station and prepare for action." I said firmly. "Status of our escorts?"
"They're gone, sir." Senior Chief Lofton said quickly. "Torpedo or missile hits sank them all before we got clear."
"Very well, get the helicopter launched as soon as possible and slow us down to thirty-five knots." I ordered.
"Sir, the DCA is requesting we slow down more in order to get a handle on the fires and the flooding." One of the junior Petty Officers said and I shook my head.
"Tell him to do the best he can in containing them for now." I ordered. According to Navy tradition, only a 'line' officer could assume command of a warship. Many officers were 'specialized' into engineering, weapons, chaplains, doctors, and stuff like that. Their rank was very real, and they played vital roles in keeping the Navy working, but their specialization meant they were not allowed to command. For now, the DCA might outrank me, but I was still in command and could issue orders related to that command, and he'd be expected by law to follow them. "We slow down too much and those subs will catch up to us."
"Aye sir." The same petty officer said with a frown. The fires might destroy us, but a torpedo or missile would kill us for sure.
"Status of weapons?" I asked.
"Phalanx mounts on port side are damaged forward and reloading aft." Senior Chief Lofton said confidently. "Aft mount is now being reloaded. We have lost communication with the forward missile directors. Aft directors are still operational and we have communications with the forward missile launchers. Port side torpedo tubes are destroyed, starboard are operational although the high-pressure air for launch is fluctuating again. ASROC and gun mounts are fully operational."
"Good, keep me updated on any changes." I ordered. Anti-submarine warfare was not my strong suit, but what I was planning didn't require finesse. "When the helo gets airborne, have them set a pattern of active buoys aft of us and let me know when they get a target."
"Aye sir." Lofton said and I thanked god for good Chief Petty Officers. For the next ten minutes we continued to run, and I had to deal with a face-to-face encounter with an angry DCA who warned me that if we didn't get the fires under control we could lose the ship. He went away unsatisfied, but the threat of new torpedoes was too much. Finally, the helicopter lifted off and began laying a pattern of sonobuoys that almost instantly detected our pursuers.
"Sir, we've got three submarines of unknown type, approximately ten miles behind us!" Chief Briley called out when the helicopter had done its job.
"Chief, get a track started on them and project where they'll be in ten minutes." I ordered firmly. "Tell the helo to go to full speed and get as far to the east of us as it possibly can."
"Sir, you can't be…" Lt. Darnell started to protest but was cut off by my raised hand.
"Mr. Darnell, Ms. Kathby, Senior Chief Lofton, please come here." I ordered from the command chair and the designated personnel came to stand by me. I noticed Helen was standing close enough for her recorder to pick up our voices, but I didn't care. I pulled the Top Secret message from my pocket and handed it first to Lt. Darnell. "Here is a message I received before coming on watch. Mr. Darnell, you've already seen it, but read it again and then allow the others to read it for authentication. This attack was expected, but not until tomorrow. The Admiral was going to be shown these orders when he got out of the meeting, in accordance with the requirements of the orders to maintain secrecy. Now, the responsibility to carry them out falls on us."
All of them were quiet as they read through the message in its entirety. There was nothing about time travel in there, just recommendations, and authorization, on how to handle this submarine attack. They were…intense, and contained orders that were hard to swallow.
"Sir, these are genuine?" Senior Chief Lofton asked softly, his eyes very wide.
"Yes, I am certain of their authenticity." I confirmed. "The last section contains part of a conversation I had with the President at his ranch about two years ago. I agreed with him on a principle there, a principle that has obviously changed now."
"Are you ready to give this order?" Lt. Darnell asked me and I nodded.
"But I need a confirming officer." I confirmed.
"I won't do that." Darnell said with a shudder. "I'm sorry, but I can't do it."
"I can." Ensign Kathby said with a nod of her brown hair.
"Very well, Senior Chief?" I said, turning my attention to Lofton.
"Sir, I confirm the authorization to release nuclear weapons from National Command Authority and confirm the authorization of two line officers to launch said weapon." Senior Chief Lofton's voice was loud enough for everyone in Combat to hear, and we had everyone's full attention. Several men and women even gasped.
"Very well, Senior Chief." I said firmly. "Lt. Darnell, resume your post. Attention in Combat, by the authority granted to me through National Command, I am hereby ordering the launch of an ASROC nuclear depth charge."
"I confirm said order." Ensign Kathby's voice shook slightly.
"Tell the bridge to set course 345 at a speed of twenty knots." I ordered and was pleased when the orders were carried out. I could see quite a few crewmembers praying at their stations, and a few just stared either at me or their screens in stunned disbelief. "Prepare the ASROC launcher for firing."
"Sir, I can't do this." Darnell said softly. "Your orders are…valid, but I can't do it. I can't be a party to using nukes."
"Very well, Mr. Darnell." I said firmly. "You are relieved of your post. Report to the DCA and see if you can render any assistance on Damage Control. Ensign Kathby, assume the Lieutenant's station."
"Aye sir." Kathby said as Darnell left Combat. If we survived this, his career was probably over, but I would not be the one to end it for him. He had made a decision of conscience, one I could respect. It took only ten minutes for us to get into position, and our own active sonar was pinging the target subs. We could see four of them at a range of nine miles, and that was more than close enough.
"Fire ASROC." I said, surprised at the way my voice lurched. On the
O-1 level amidships, the launcher fired and a rocket streaked away from the
ship.
At six miles, a small explosive bolt fired, and the warhead separated from the now-empty rocket. A small parachute retarded the fall of the warhead as it hit the water and began to sink. While this was happening, the ship turned back to the east and accelerated to our maximum speed. With the damage, we could only reach forty knots, but that would have to be enough.
Under the water, four subs passed the spot where the depth charge had hit the
water, unaware that their doom was now descending to five hundred feet. They
were a mile past that point by the time the depth bomb had reached five hundred
feet. Another six subs had closed to within two miles of that point as well
as they joined the hunt for our fleeing ship. None of them had any more than
a moment's warning as the depth charge exploded at the prescribed depth.
In the flash of an eye, two square miles of ocean were evaporated in nuclear fire. Ten of the attacking subs were vaporized in that explosion, their crews never even knowing what happened to them. We would later find out that there were another ten submarines in the area. They were all destroyed by the pressure change as the ocean rushed in to fill the hole left by two square miles of evaporated ocean. A tidal wave formed and raced out in all directions.
We were running fast and hard, but not fast or hard enough. The wave had subsided to twenty feet in height by the time it hit us. The stern of the ship was pushed under water and the entire ship shook with the impact. For a moment, I thought we were going to break apart, but we emerged unscathed, although for a moment, eighty percent of the ship had been underwater.
A side effect was that most of the fires in the forward superstructure were put out, but we lost sixteen crewmembers overboard.
"Ms. Cantrell, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to not release that tape until it's been reviewed by military officials." I said in the relative calm following the initial damage reports. She stared at me suspiciously. "Ma'am, just hold onto it for now, and when we get to port, or a replenishment group, give it to them. I'm not going to ask for it or have anyone on this ship take it. Something like this, I want no conspiracy theories or hint of cover-up. It's just that higher ranking authorities are going to want to review it before it becomes public, just so they have a chance to prepare for the questions that will be asked."
"We really did use a nuke, didn't we?" She asked me with frightened eyes. I just closed my own eyes and nodded my head. "Did the President authorize it?"
"Yes, he did." I told her softly. "If there had been any other way, I wouldn't have given the order, but you have to understand. There were ten to twenty subs out there, and they'd already sunk most of our Task Force. We are damaged, and there's no way we could have fought off more than one or two of them. The rest would have swarmed past us and into the Indian Ocean. We could have lost the Enterprise, and all the oil or cargo ships currently at sea. Our troops in Kuwait would have been cut off, and this war could have been lost. One tactical nuclear warhead, used on the ocean, ended that threat."
"But it's still a nuke." She emphasized and I had to nod again.
"The ocean can take the damage of one nuclear blast." I said firmly and calmly. "The water will clean up the nuclear residue, and there's almost no fallout from the blast. The only ships affected were us and the Soviet submarines, and maybe a few fishing vessels, but those have all been warned to stay away from the area for a while because of the war. A lot of sea life was probably damaged, and will take years to return to normal levels, but they will recover. I doubt the United States could have recovered if those subs had gotten loose into the Indian Ocean."
"But…how will the Soviets respond?" She asked me and I shrugged.
"That's up to them." My voice was still firm and strong. "We didn't start this shooting contest, they and their allies started this. Tonight we just sent them the message that we will see this fight through to the end. Now they have to decide if it's worth it to continue or if they might want to sit down at the table and talk. That's not for me to decide though."
"How does it feel to be one of the few officers to have ever used nuclear weapons?" She asked me and I realized her tape recorder was still running. It appeared the shock of having almost been killed twice, once by the nuclear weapon-caused tidal wave, had started to wear off and she was remembering her job as a reporter. I took a deep breath and considered not answering, just telling her to turn it off, but I knew an answer now would probably be better.
"Awful." Was the single word I came up with at the time. "I didn't really want to do this, nuclear weapons should not be used, but the situation and my orders required them to be used. I wanted to step aside and let someone else make the decision. Lt. Darnell was lucky, he could step aside, but I was in command since there were no line officers senior to me. I had to decide if my personal hatred of nuclear weapons outweighed my duty to my ship, my crew, and my country. In the end, duty won out and I gave the order. May god have mercy on my soul for that."
"You didn't seem to waver or hesitate in making the decision." She pressed on and I let out a sigh.
"Helen, a commander does not hesitate or waver in view of his men." I stated as firmly as it had been told to me. "A commander is certain that the orders he gives are the right orders and he exudes confidence in his decisions that will encourage and hearten his men to do what must be done. That is the essence of military leadership as I've been taught, and I was not about to let my men see any hesitation or doubt when we were fighting for our lives. Now, if you'll excuse me, we still have a lot of work to do."
That last sentence wasn't a lie. The number two reactor was acting up again, thanks to shock damage from the nuclear-created tidal wave. We had to shut it down and light up the diesel generators for emergency power while the number one reactor provided power for us to move. The wiring for Radio was heavily damaged by the fires and we had to splice new wires to regain the ability to receive and transmit data. When we did, I had to make some calls that were not fun.
After taking my report, the Admiral in charge of the Indian Ocean fleet ordered me to head the Long Beach directly back to Diego Garcia. A cruiser and four escorts were being dispatched from the Enterprise battle group to take our place at the entrance to the Red Sea. After that, a direct link to Washington was established and I had a long conversation with the President about what had happened. It was comforting to hear directly from him that I had carried out his orders as he'd wanted, and he also promised a more complete debrief once I eventually returned to Washington.
Three days later, a very damaged but still sea-worthy USS Long Beach pulled into Diego Garcia. We tied up to one of the temporary piers where a mass of senior officers were waiting. During the fighting, we'd lost thirty-nine officers and sixty-six enlisted men. The Captain, Executive Officer, Operations Officer, Weapons Officer, Supply Officer, Master Chief of the Boat, and nearly all their assistants had died when the second missile hit. Van, the captain's cook had also died in that explosion. Their burned bodies had been recovered and were now being laid out in the hangar, waiting for us to send them dirt-side, where they'd be flown home.
Two three-star admirals, one two-star Admiral, two one-star admirals, and a marine three-star general came on board first. Within twenty minutes they'd commenced a hearing into the use of a nuclear weapon. The hearing lasted all of three hours while a team of repairmen assisted the ship's crew in making more repairs. To my dismay, no officer had come up to me and officially relieved me of command, so I waited in Combat for my turn to be called to the mess decks where the hearing was being held. When it was my turn, a marine major came to escort me. It was with some relief that I noted he did not have a side arm.
"Lieutenant David Ray Jones Jr., Acting Commanding Officer of the USS Long Beach, this board has been convened to investigate the circumstances surrounding the launch of a nuclear-tipped ASROC on the twenty-fourth of October." Vice-Admiral Josiah Decatur, a man whose name invoked much history in the US Navy, spoke with a deep voice and in a very serious tone. "Mr. Jones, would you please confirm that you did indeed give the order on the 24th of October to launch a nuclear-tipped ASROC."
"I did give the order, sir." I confirmed.
"Did you understand that you were the senior line officer available to give the order, and that authorization had been given by the proper authority?" He asked.
"Yes, Admiral, I was aware of both matters." I said, wondering when the real questioning will begin.
"Very well, Mr. Jones, that will be all." The Admiral said, causing me to blink in surprise. "Gentlemen, is there any need to discuss this matter further or to deliberate in private?"
All the men on the panel shook their heads. The mess deck was fairly full of observers, mostly from the ship's crew, but there were two reporters in addition to Helen Cantrell, and one video camera manned by a sailor in uniform. I wondered if this was just for show or what.
"Mr. Jones, the law requires that any use of nuclear weapons by a local commander be investigated to ensure the use was legitimately authorized." Admiral Decatur said in a stern, yet somehow kindly voice. "The mission of your ship was to prevent Soviet submarines from entering the Indian Ocean at any cost. The nuclear-tipped ASROC was designed for just the type of situation you were in, and was the only weapon that could have achieved success for your mission. Even if you did not have authorization for the use of nuclear weapons, it is most likely this Board of Inquiry would have cleared you for such a use. We do not need to do that, however, as you did have such authorization. Your execution of that authorization was tactically necessary and by every rule and law of the United States, acceptable. You are to be commended for your actions and this Board will so note in its findings. Dismissed."
I stood at the final words and tried not to sweat. The camera lights were turned off and the board members came up to shake my hand, each offering some small words as they did so. It was Admiral Decatur who stayed though, directing me out of the mess decks and aft, towards the hangar. No one followed and when we were alone he stopped and turned to face me.
"What is the condition of the ship?" He asked me quietly.
"The two missiles did a pretty bad number on us, sir." I answered just as quietly. "The after-effects of the ASROC were even worse. None of the missile directors work, the SPS-49 radar is beyond repair as well. Our port side SPY1 radar panel is gone and the aft panel suffered heavy water damage. Most of our radios and other communications equipment are heavily damaged. Our Phalanx cannons are all out, with only two being repairable here. The gun mounts work, as does the ASROC launcher, but that is just about all. We can make twenty knots safely with the hole in our side, but not much more than that without flooding the ship again. We've pumped out much of the water, but we're still leaking around the hole. Number two reactor isn't safe to start up again, and it will take at least a year in the yard to fix. Admiral, I'm afraid the Long Beach is out of this war, and to be honest, it will take just as long to fix her as to just build another ship."
"That's what I thought." He said sadly, patting a nearby bulkhead. "She's a fine ship and did a great job in this war. It'll be a shame to see her decommissioned. Commander Pearl will report on board within the hour. I want you to have your officers ready to brief him on repair efforts. He is not here to replace you. He's the current repair coordinator. Let him know what you need to get back underway for a final trip home. Orders should come through within the next day for the ship to make for Norfolk and decommissioning."
"Yes, Admiral." I said with some uncertainty in my voice. The way he was speaking made it sound like I was going to stay in command.
"Here." Admiral Kernan said, holding out his hand. In it was a small circular pin with a star in the middle, and I knew what it meant. My hands shook as I took it and stared at it for a long minute. "As of this moment, you are the commanding officer of the Long Beach. Your orders are to get her seaworthy and then take her back to Norfolk for decommissioning.
"Sir, I'm not qualified…" I began to protest but his laughter cut me off.
"Cut the bullshit, Mr. Jones." He said after laughing. "The war is over for the Long Beach and most of her crew. After what has just happened, you've all earned some time at home no matter what happens with this war. You are more than qualified to see the ship and her crew home. The war isn't over yet and I don't want to take a more experienced command officer away from his current duties to nursemaid this ship home. You can do the job and you're here."
"Aye, aye, sir." I said with a resigned sigh, tightening my fist around the pin. Then I saluted him before he left the ship along with the other flag officers. When Commander Pearl did show up less than twenty minutes later, the surviving officers were ready to brief him on what we needed to get seaworthy enough to head home. After he left, I put the command-at-sea pin on my right breast, right above the uniform pocket, as per regulation, and made a ship-wide announcement. While he'd been talking with the officers, a message had been delivered for me with news that made my legs sag in relief. Clutching the message tightly, I made my way down to the Combat Information Center and moved to the panel that held the microphone for the ship-wide address system. The CIC had a small duty crew there, and they watched me prepare to speak with curiosity shining in their eyes.
"Attention crew of the Long Beach." I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "History will have plenty to say about the last few days, but for now let me say that I have never served with a more capable group of sailors. Since the day she was launched, this ship and her crews have made history, and what we have accomplished in the last few months is no different. No officer, no commander at sea, can be more proud of his crew than I am at this moment. By order of the Chief of Naval Operations, I have been given command of this ship and orders to prepare her for sea as soon as humanly possible. Once ready, we will sail for Norfolk, where this proud lady will be prepared for decommissioning, her mission accomplished.
"I say her mission accomplished, because a few minutes ago, I received a priority message." I continued, my emotions leaking into my voice no matter how hard I tried to stop them. "As of 1600 hours local time, the Union of Soviet Socialists Republics has requested a cease fire while negotiations begin for cessation of all hostilities. Now, this cease-fire does not affect the ground battle in Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, but the threat from the Soviets is now gone. Further, I have also received news that the request for a cease-fire did not come from the old Soviet government, but rather a new one. Premier Shevardnadze and most of his cabinet were arrested by members of the military and executed yesterday. As of this moment, all Soviet submarines or other forces located in the Indian Ocean or Persian Gulf are surfacing and leaving the region. The hard part of this war is over, and history will record that it was the actions of the Long Beach and her crew that made it happen. That is all."
I closed my eyes as my ears filled with cheering from the crew. Senior Chief Lofton appeared in Combat with a wide smile and saluted me (against Navy tradition which was to not salute while indoors). Then he and a few others joined in patting me on the back with congratulations. When they'd moved on, I sat in the Captain's chair and reflected on the import of the messages.
Alexei was dead, killed by members of his military after the use of a nuclear weapon made them face the possibility of all-out war. Sources in the Soviet Union said that when his assurances we'd never use nukes had been proven false, the military decided that continuing to follow his lead would lead their country to ruin. Leaders of the satellite Soviet states, like East Germany, Belarus, Czechoslovakia, Romania, Kazakhstan, and Estonia had announced their independence and were requesting recognition of their independence from the United States. East Germany had already sent a delegation to West Germany to discuss the prospect of reunification.
It was ironic, really. Alexei had funded the time travel experiment to restore his Soviet Union, and now it was collapsing earlier than it had originally. The only problem was that nearly sixty-nine thousand American lives had been lost this time. The Soviets had lost only forty-two thousand of their soldiers, sailors, and airmen. Iraq and Iran though, had lost nearly two hundred thousand total. All told, nearly three hundred thousand people had died bringing about what should have been done peacefully.
It was not something to be cheerful about, merely relieved.
As with all my stories, E provides immeasurable input, grammar checking, and all those other lovely editing thingies that make the story so much better!
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