Island Warriors

TWENTY-THREE

Without a word, Captain Chang reached up and turned the speaker to tactical back on as well as the circuit he shared with Ho on board the carrier. Combat was immediately flooded with a babble of American voices, which sounded particularly like music to Goforth’s ears.

But one voice booming out over both circuits cut through everything else. Captain Chang recognized it as that of Coyote.

“Marshall P’eng, Marshall P’eng, this is the United States. Over.” The call up was repeated three times, then the circuit cleared for the battle group to take care of other business.

Captain Chang picked up the mike, then turned to face the American officer. “Courage — yes, you have courage.”

“United States, this is Marshall P’eng,” the captain said, his voice clear and his English accented. “Be advised I am initiating a SAR mission with the two helos — three helos — under my control. I am close — I will get pilots, Admiral.”

Coyote’s voice came back over the circuit. “Roger, sir. But would you care to explain what just happened? I’ve got two helos damn near the wave tops who are a little bit reluctant to return to your command and control, Captain.”

“A great error on my part, Admiral,” Chang said, his voice deadly serious. “I will explain later — but you’ll forgive me if I concentrate my attention on getting your men out of the water right now. The explanations can wait, sir. I assure you, I will pay for my mistake later.”

“Roger, then, Captain,” Coyote’s voice said. “You coordinate the SAR — I may have some matters to take care of down here. And as for the submarine—”

“Pardon, Admiral,” Chang interrupted, and everyone stared aghast at the rudeness. “Consider the submarine gone.”

He turned back to his watch section, and began giving orders again. Goforth felt the ship heel over hard as the nimble frigate turned. “The SAR — shall I talk to them?” he asked.

Chang handed him the mike. “Major Ho Kung-Sun has made a very grave mistake as well,” he said. “Extend my apologies — I am deeply sorry. But it is imperative, whatever their feelings, that they obey my orders immediately. We must get these men out of the water within the next three minutes.”

“Roger, sir — but to be blunt, what’s the hurry? They have survival gear and the water is relatively warm.”

The captain shook his head. “You do not understand. I have been patrolling this area for about a week now, in my home waters. I know everything about this part of the ocean, and know it well. I have watched this over countless missions. The problem is not the temperature of the water. It is what follows in our wake.” His face reflected his concern. “Sharks. Great white. And after feasting on our trash for several weeks, they will find the morsels such as your pilots quite tasty. Now, tell your helos to obey me or be prepared to bear responsibility for what follows.”

It took only thirty seconds for the American officer to explain the situation to the helo pilots, and after the first ten seconds, they were already turning and heading for the SAR location. When it became apparent they had located the men, Captain Chang broke one off to join his Sea Sprite and head north. There was plenty of fuel on board, and he had one last piece of business to take care of before he dealt with his own conscience.

The submarine.

The voice of Chang’s senior enlisted man came over the speaker, firm and competent. “I have an initial detection on the diesel submarine, sir. Her range is eight thousand yards, bearing zero one zero.”

Dead ahead. Captain Chang stepped over to the bitch box. “Hard right rudder — Combat, I want a recommended intercept course now. I will notify the carrier — this time we will make good use of the helos.”

The sailors on deck sprang into action at the announcement. Chang gazed at the water ahead of the replenishment ship with malice in his eyes. So a submarine was trying to take out the replenishment ship, was she? This far from friendly ports, that would do far more damage to the American battle group than attacking any other ship.

Well, that was not going to have to happen. Not if Marshall P’eng had anything to say about it.

Captain Chang Tso-Lin picked up the mike to call the carrier. This was one conversation that he intended to have directly with the admiral.

Coyote had just sat down to supper when the buzzer next to his seat sounded. He picked up the handset and said, “Admiral.” He listened for a moment, then shoved himself back from the table, reaching out to grab a sandwich as he did so. “You’ll excuse me, gentlemen. That was my TAO. That little Taiwanese frigate is about to kick some serious ass and I want to be there to see it.”

In TFCC, Coyote hovered over the TAO’s shoulder as he watched the action unfold. The American liaison officer onboard the frigate was reading off the datum, his voice excited. A few words were spoken in firm Mandarin, and he paused for a moment, then continued. “Captain Chang Tso-Lin wishes me to convey his utmost respect, Admiral, and we’d be pleased to eliminate this submarine from the ocean if that comports with your desires. He also told me,” the officer continued, his voice slightly embarrassed, “to calm down and not look so excited. He said it is not appropriate.”

“I agree,” the admiral said gravely. “Please tell the captain that I appreciate his courtesy in correcting one of my officers, and I regret any inconvenience or embarrassment it may cause.”

“Admiral?” Now the officer sounded uncertain.

“Tell him what I said.” The admiral’s voice was low and courteous. He listened as the officer translated his remarks. Finally, he heard the line go quiet for a moment, then click back on as a new voice came on.

“It is my honor, Admiral,” a heavily accented voice said carefully. “I shall take the submarine, yes?”

So you do speak some English! “Yes, please, take the submarine,” the admiral said. “Would it be of any assistance to have my helicopter standing by?” There was a brief pause and a flurry of translation.

“Yes. Please to send two — we do this quickly, yes?”

“Yes. Quickly.” The admiral paused for moment, uncertain as to how to continue, then took the plunge. “Captain, if there have been any misunderstandings, I deeply apologize for them. You should know your ship and your command have my utmost confidence, and we consider it an honor to serve with such a ship, officers, and crew.”

This time there was a longer conversation, and then the American officer came back on with a horrified note in his voice. “Admiral, the captain has given me permission to add my own remarks as necessary to clarify for his esteemed American colleagues. He says that he believes that there have been some misunderstandings, but perhaps they were not necessary. And sir, I think I can clear up a lot of this in just a few minutes here — the captain has asked me to explain to him the difference between a gook and a geek.”

The watch officer sitting in front of Coyote slapped his forehead. “Oh, man — that was it, wasn’t it?” He turned to Bird Dog. “Remember that day — two days ago. Ho Kung-Sun was standing behind us and you were shouting for the geeks. He must have thought you said—”

“Shit,” Bird Dog said softly. “Don’t repeat it now… come on, please.”

Coyote turned to Lab Rat. “Find Major Ho Kung-Sun. Take Lee with you. Explain it to him. Dammit, man, move!”