Devil's Due (Destroyermen #12)(139)
Brassey strode to the dead French sailor and took off his hat. He looked inside at the sweatband. “Kapitan Leutnant Lange, your name is now Chartier, and I suspect you command this turret. I’m sure they’ll try to communicate with you at some point. If someone asks why you don’t sound like Chartier, tell them your throat is sore from yelling at your gun’s crews.”
“Why are the hatches shut?” Lange demanded, immediately understanding Brassey’s play. “They might ask.”
“You shut them so your cowardly reptiles won’t flee their stations in battle.”
Lange seemed to consider that. Ironically, almost immediately, there came muted thumping at the hatches below. “Why won’t I let the rest of my crew in?”
“After hearing Lady Sandra’s theory, I doubt they have enough human crew members to put more than two in here. If another of those want in, we’ll let him—and overwhelm him. Otherwise, your entire crew is present. You don’t know why those others think they belong in here.”
A slow grin seemed to crack Lange’s gaunt, stony face. It was the first time Horn had ever seen him smile. “We will try it!” Lange said with something akin to satisfaction.
“Try what?” Horn demanded.
“Please just show us what to do, Gunnery Sergeant Horn,” Brassey said, his face too intense for one so young. “With our prisoners, we already have three who know.”
? ? ?
“You’re staying here, Lord?” General of the Sky Muriname asked, amazed, when Hisashi Kurokawa stepped briskly down the gangway from the great battleship. Immediately, the gangway was pulled ashore and Grik started taking in lines. “I assumed you’d prefer to be aboard your new flagship today.”
Kurokawa avoided answering the question directly. “The cruiser Nachi remains my flagship,” he said instead. “For now. That may change as the day progresses. At the moment, a large air attack is coming. Savoie’s radio operator informed me that a number of enemy carrier aircraft were sighted by one of your scout planes—before its transmissions abruptly ceased.”
“Yes, Lord. Fukui received the same transmission. I immediately ordered all our remaining planes to respond. They’ll be rising at any moment.” He paused. “Fukui also told me that the telegraph station on the extreme south end of the bay reported that the land assault has already advanced that far. It made no other transmissions and we must assume it was overrun.”
For a long moment, Kurokawa didn’t speak. He simply stared at the burning ships in the bay. Two of his last four dreadnaughts destroyed, and there were flames in the distance near where his precious carrier Akagi had been docked. A number of cruisers were also smoldering closer by. Who knew how many of his remaining Japanese had already died that terrible morning, with the sun not even up? All he’d accomplished, all he’d prepared for, was systematically being destroyed around him. Panic lingered on the edge of his consciousness but he knew that was what Captain Reddy hoped to achieve; what his whole plan was aimed at inspiring. But I’m not finished yet, Kurokawa decided. Not nearly so. Despite recent losses, I still have more and better aircraft, even without Rizzo’s. No more than five thousand enemy troops could possibly be ashore, and I’ve already directed that my nearly thirty thousand begin moving to meet them. Granted, they’re scattered, but many, perhaps half, will arrive before the day is done. They’ll be enough to hold the invaders until the rest come and finish them. “What of the torpedo boats that caused so much damage?”
“All destroyed,” Muriname said. “Or gone. The bulk of our cruisers remain unscathed, as do two of the ironclad battleships. And there is still Savoie, of course.”
“Indeed. I still have Savoie. With the cruisers to screen her, she can still destroy whatever naval forces show themselves. But at present we must allow our ships to avoid their planes, while yours swat them from the sky.” He paused, his protruding eyes narrowing against the stinging smoke. Shapes beneath the burning pyres were becoming more distinct. When daylight came, he’d have a better grip on the situation. “But this plan of the enemy’s has only begun to unfold,” he said. “Something important has not yet been revealed. Until it is, my place remains here, focused on the air and land battle we face. When we know more, if my main enemy and his pitiful ships appear, my fleet will deal with them. If I can’t still shift my flag to Savoie, I’ll join the battle aboard Nachi. Laborde will have to manage. He has every reason to distinguish himself—and knows the consequences for failure. Even better, after what Savoie did to Amerika under his command, he can expect less mercy from the enemy than he can from me.”
He paused again, as the dark shapes of aircraft began to roar overhead. The clouds still blocked the rising sun, but they were breaking and occasional spears of light flashed across the small, deadly planes. Sometimes he saw hints of his beloved Hinomaru on the wings or fuselage, no longer defiled by the modifications Muriname once made to inspire their Grik allies. The Grik, as a whole, had actually adopted that version for several reasons. They’d never had a single flag before and it reflected their revered, imperial red. It had also come to symbolize strength. Strength I gave them, Kurokawa inwardly seethed, as I’ve always taken it from the proper Hinomaru. He knew part of him still tried to justify what he did here as service to his emperor on another world, though he rarely consciously considered it anymore. More and more, the red roundel had come to symbolize his will, his destiny. He took a long breath and coughed smoke. No matter what happened today, whether his appreciation of the balance of power was flawed or not, he believed, hoped, he still possessed a final, insurmountable advantage over Captain Reddy. “Has the detail I sent to bring Sandra Reddy returned?” he demanded suddenly.