knew what was coming.
Jerry shouted “Brace yourselves and cover your ears!” and pointed aft. As he raised his own hands, the two fighters suddenly changed from dots to toy planes to aircraft fifty feet across, seventy feet long and at arms’ length overhead.
A shattering BOOM almost knocked Jerry to the deck. Half a moment later, a shock wave strong enough to rock the boat did make the bridge crew stumble. One man on the hull was literally pushed off his feet and tumbled toward the water. Saved by his lifeline, he hung dangling along
Clear of the sub, both fighters pulled up until they were vertical. They zoomed upward, spinning slowly, drilling through the air until they were only specks. Along with the rest of the bridge crew, Jerry tracked them with his glasses until they leveled out at high altitude. He noted their direction— to the southwest and back to base. “Show-offs,” he muttered enviously.
“I’m glad we didn’t have any masts up,” Shimko remarked.
“They almost got a sample of our paint,” Hayes answered.
“Mr. Mitchell, before our rude guests showed up, Rider Zero Two told us they’d spotted a group of Russian surface ships headed this way.” Shimko glanced at his watch. “As of twenty-three minutes ago, they bore two two five degrees at ninety miles. They also said they’ve got radar intercepts from other aircraft. We passed the information on to Mr. Constantino below.”
Jerry checked his own watch and nodded. “I’ll give you a visual ETA as soon as I’m down in control.”
Rudel, who had been listening, said, “Since the Russians are close, I intend to remain on the surface.” He paused for a moment, looking to the southeast. “I’ve got another data package made up, this time for the Russian surface ships. We may spot a helicopter from the task force anytime now. They seem to know where we are.”
“Understood, sir. And as soon as I’m done with that ETA, I’ll check on the techs’ progress.” Suddenly Jerry felt good — even happy. That SH-60 had been their first physical contact with the outside world since the collision. They finally had the parts to get the comm gear working, and within hours the Russians could begin rescue operations, thanks to
Down in control, QM2 Dunn had the watch, and had already plotted the Russian ships’ course and speed, and projected the time to intercept.
Jerry shouted “Brace yourselves and cover your ears!” and pointed aft. As he raised his own hands, the two fighters suddenly changed from dots to toy planes to aircraft fifty feet across, seventy feet long and at arms’ length overhead.
A shattering BOOM almost knocked Jerry to the deck. Half a moment later, a shock wave strong enough to rock the boat did make the bridge crew stumble. One man on the hull was literally pushed off his feet and tumbled toward the water. Saved by his lifeline, he hung dangling along
Clear of the sub, both fighters pulled up until they were vertical. They zoomed upward, spinning slowly, drilling through the air until they were only specks. Along with the rest of the bridge crew, Jerry tracked them with his glasses until they leveled out at high altitude. He noted their direction— to the southwest and back to base. “Show-offs,” he muttered enviously.
“I’m glad we didn’t have any masts up,” Shimko remarked.
“They almost got a sample of our paint,” Hayes answered.
“Mr. Mitchell, before our rude guests showed up, Rider Zero Two told us they’d spotted a group of Russian surface ships headed this way.” Shimko glanced at his watch. “As of twenty-three minutes ago, they bore two two five degrees at ninety miles. They also said they’ve got radar intercepts from other aircraft. We passed the information on to Mr. Constantino below.”
Jerry checked his own watch and nodded. “I’ll give you a visual ETA as soon as I’m down in control.”
Rudel, who had been listening, said, “Since the Russians are close, I intend to remain on the surface.” He paused for a moment, looking to the southeast. “I’ve got another data package made up, this time for the Russian surface ships. We may spot a helicopter from the task force anytime now. They seem to know where we are.”
“Understood, sir. And as soon as I’m done with that ETA, I’ll check on the techs’ progress.” Suddenly Jerry felt good — even happy. That SH-60 had been their first physical contact with the outside world since the collision. They finally had the parts to get the comm gear working, and within hours the Russians could begin rescue operations, thanks to
Down in control, QM2 Dunn had the watch, and had already plotted the Russian ships’ course and speed, and projected the time to intercept. Even with the storm cleared, the Russian ships wouldn’t be visible until they were about fifteen miles away from
He passed the times up to the bridge, and Rudel’s voice acknowledged over the intercom. A moment later, the XO came into control, smiling broadly. Giving his foul-weather coat to a rating, he said, “I’ll go up with you to electronics equipment space. I don’t think I could wait for your report.”
As they left control, Shimko was still smiling, and actually clapped Jerry on the back. “It’s almost over. We pass the data on
They’d climbed the ladder to the electronics spaces, with Shimko, of course, going first. As Jerry got to the top of the ladder, he turned to go forward, but the XO stopped him, and spoke softly. “I want you to know that I’m grateful for all your hard work since the collision. You’ve done a lot for both us and the Russians over there. They don’t know it, and the Skipper isn’t really aware, but I am, and. ” He paused for a moment, then added, “It’s been very hard, with the Captain unengaged. He could almost qualify as one of the injured, after the collision.”
Jerry was a little surprised by the XO’s outburst. He’d never heard him talk about the captain like this. Under normal circumstances, it just wasn’t done. At a loss, he finally answered, “I’m glad I was able to help, sir.” It sounded weak, but Shimko didn’t seem to notice.
“It’s part of why we have executive officers, Jerry, to back up a captain. I’ve always thought I was, but trying to fill Captain Rudel’s shoes is hard work.” There was strain in Shimko’s voice. “And it’s been hard seeing the Skipper so shattered by this.”
Jerry shrugged. “He cares about his crew — maybe too much.” It was judgmental, and Jerry felt uncomfortable saying it, but it was true.
“He’s a good officer, and somehow he’s got to get through this, with our help.” Shimko said it firmly. He wanted it to be true. Jerry did, too, because he could not imagine the alternative.
The XO smiled, just a little. “Remember this when you’re a captain, and be kind to your executive officer.” He turned and walked the few steps to the electronics equipment space door. Shimko carefully peered in.
Chief Hudson, Lamberth, and Blocker were all in the space, quietly, even happily working. Jerry looked for Kearney, then sadly remembered he was on his way to the
The chief spotted Shimko, then Jerry. “Progressing well here, sirs. No surprises so far. We’ll have one HF transmitter up tonight.”
The 1MC called them both this time. “XO AND MR. MITCHELL TO THE BRIDGE.”
“What now?” Shimko wondered aloud.
They both hurried back to the bridge, climbing back into the cold wind a few minutes after the call.
Rudel pointed to the southwest. “I thought it was the jets coming back, but it’s only one plane, and it’s larger.”
Jerry took a pair of binoculars and inspected the plane, little more than an irregular speck. “Slow mover, and a big one. ASW patrol plane, but not a Bear. Probably an 11–38 May.”
“I concur,” Rudel answered. “Mr. Mitchell, will those fighters escort him?”
“No, sir. They don’t need to, since we don’t have anything up here to threaten the patrol plane.”
“Can he hear our bridge-to-bridge radio?”
“Yessir, he should be able to. He has the UHF gear aboard. The Russians know our radios are down, and they
