Alexandria opened her eyes and clenched the armrests with her hands so hard the blood drained from them. Then, as the deep lyrics of the song started to coincide with the movement of
Tyler tensed as Farbeaux strode to the center of the room with a fresh bottle of wine. The gun moved from Niles to the Frenchman just as the hatch wheel started turning. He allowed his eyes to move in that direction as the large double hatch opened and Virginia came through, followed by Alice.
"Do not allow the hatch to slam closed, ladies.
Farbeaux moved like a cat. The bottle of three-hundred-year-old wine was in the air before anyone realized it. The makeshift projectile struck the big Irishman on the side of his head, dropping him immediately. Virginia reacted first as she stooped to retrieve the weapon from the sergeant's hand.
Tyler recovered faster than anyone would have believed. From his knees he backhanded Virginia, knocking her away until she fell next to the hatch. Alice, startled, reached down to help Virginia. Tyler placed his hand upon the gun as Farbeaux dived to stop him--all the while wondering why he was doing it. Niles moved to help the Frenchman.
Tyler again reacted faster than anyone. He quickly raised the weapon and fired. The round grazed Farbeaux in middive. He rolled and was struck with a sudden, flaring pain in his side above the hip. Tyler quickly adjusted his aim toward Niles and brought the director to a complete stop. The sergeant wiped the blood from his temple and then stood on shaky feet. He sluggishly stepped toward the prone Farbeaux and stood over him, the weapon aimed at his head.
"Don't ... we'll not give you any more problems," Alice said, taking a step away from Virginia by the hatchway.
Sergeant Tyler smirked and then aimed once more.
VIRGINIA CLASS ATTACK
SUBMARINE USS
The newest Virginia class fast-attack submarine in the world was honored with a very proud moniker--the USS
Captain James Jefferson, a man specifically chosen for the duty as
Jefferson was destined to become the first black submarine commander-in-chief of the Pacific fleet (COMSUBPAC). Now however, he had his doubts if he would ever make it to that lofty position. The duty given to him at the last minute could very well be his boat's first war mission, and its last. The rumors had spread very quickly throughout the U.S. Navy, had infected the boat while in transit from Pearl, and had gotten worse with their six-hour layover at Midway. They knew they were being attached to an international line of defense, and also that they were going up against the biggest unknown in the history of the navy--a submarine with unbelievable capabilities had killed up to ten warships, and had yet to be spotted.
Jefferson stood looking at his navigation console and shook his head.
"That goddamn Chinese Akula is drifting on us again. Can't those bastards maintain their station? Hell, we won't need a supersub to take shots at us, we'll sink ourselves."
"He's not the only one, Captain. Now we have the Russian on our starboard drifting toward us. The
"Damn," Jefferson said as he rubbed his chin and looked closer at the line of battle. "Izzy, I want to pull out of the line and take up station to the far starboard side of this mess. The way these two Akulas are acting, the hole we leave in the line will be filled soon anyway. I'm not risking my damn boat because two captains can't keep station for a few hours."
"Good idea, Captain. Do we report to the lead boat?"
"No, I'm afraid it will only confuse Captain Nevelov if we did that. Besides, he'll never hear
"Hell, we can't even hear ourselves, Captain," the first officer said as the men on watch chuckled in their agreement.