Devil's Due (Destroyermen #12)(145)
“They must get close to harm our ships, and their new defenses will slaughter them!” Kurokawa stated, his face already red. Had Muriname actually defied him?
“The enemy is already close!” Muriname shouted, unable to contain himself. “Their planes have torn ours from the sky.” He glared at Rizzo. “All of them. And his ground forces are less than five miles away. All that remains unseen is their fleet, and it will come at Captain Reddy’s pleasure, not yours! Don’t you understand? We’re finished here. If not today, tomorrow. All that’s left is to save what we can. Again,” he added bitterly.
For the barest instant, Kurokawa seemed to comprehend, but then his face contorted with rage. “Control yourself, General of the Sky! How dare you speak this way! Nothing is finished . . . except the enemy. His fleet has already come; mere torpedo boats are all he can spare, and we destroyed them. His air attack is a final gasp, his puny invasion easily countered once our forces are assembled. And if Captain Reddy somehow sends more against me . . .”
“General of the Sea!” cried Signal Lieutenant Fukui, racing up to join them.
“How dare you approach me so!” Kurokawa screamed. “How often have I warned you? No more! This time you have pushed too far!”
“But, Lord!” Fukui insisted, pointing past the north entrance to the bay. “The enemy fleet is here! Our scout planes have seen it, just around the peninsula! It’s nearing the extreme range of our shore batteries. They confirmed the sighting by telegraph as well!”
Kurokawa glared. Antiaircraft guns began firing again as thirty-odd Nancys appeared over the bay, clawing through shell bursts, growing inexorably closer. Some peeled off, probably to support the ground attack, but the rest came on. “I see nothing!” Kurokawa snapped, squinting west, ignoring the planes.
“It lies offshore, around the peninsula,” Fukui repeated impatiently. “Ten of their heavy sailing steamers, several of which are those they converted to seaplane tenders, with fewer guns. And . . .” Fukui paused. “Walker is with them, Lord! It is confirmed. She waits for you! Captain Reddy has come for his woman, as you predicted! Now you can destroy him at last!”
Muriname’s brows furrowed. “I don’t like this, Lord. You shouldn’t go out.”
Kurokawa rounded on him. “You were just telling me I should!” he shrieked, spittle flying, his face a purple moon. The sky, briefly blue and clear of all but smoke, was filled once more with bullets, bursting shells, and the ungainly looking but surprisingly nimble blue-and-white enemy attack planes. Bombs fell from the first Nancys, exploding in the water among the speeding, erratically turning cruisers. Tracers arced up to meet them, as did exploding shells and blizzards of high-velocity canister. Kurokawa was right; their close-in defenses were formidable, and the cruisers were better protected from the air. Not only had their armored bulwarks been raised, but they’d also been inclined inward. Combined with their tumblehome, their vulnerable deck was a smaller target and falling bombs and plunging projectiles were more likely to glance off. Some attacking planes immediately staggered and fell or retreated, trailing smoke. But in quick succession, more bombs fell on and around Savoie, blasting deck timbers and tall columns of water in the air, even as a pair of Nancys fell to her guns, crashing beyond her on the dock she’d stood away from. That focused their attention.
“Captain Reddy is here now,” Kurokawa murmured to himself, then turned to Fukui. “Signal the fleet to sea! Everything will pursue the enemy beyond the channel mouth. The cruisers will precede the battleships.” He looked hotly at Muriname. “You were right and wrong, General of the Sky,” he seethed. “Right that we can’t simply cower under this onslaught, but wrong to counsel we do so now, particularly with victory in our grasp!”
“I already took the liberty of hoisting the sortie signal, Lord,” Fukui announced.
Kurokawa glared at him again, but let it pass. “As you knew I would order,” he conceded. “Quite right.”
“Do not go, Lord. I fear a trap!” Muriname pleaded.
Kurokawa paused, his expression softening slightly. “It was concern for me, then. I am touched.” His bulging eyes hardened. “But my enemy is there,” he said, pointing west. “The fleet is in danger and must sortie.” He paused, the word “trap” clearly moving behind his eyes. As usual, the innate caution that had kept him alive so long, despite his madness, attempted to assert itself. Muriname could actually see the struggle on his face, harder than ever to heed. His enemy was there, practically helpless, daring him to come—and that was just too much. But the word “trap” might’ve made him wonder if the bait was a little too tempting as well. “Except for Nachi,” Kurokawa finally added, flinching when a tank battery exploded nearby. “She lies closest to my offices. When Sandra Reddy arrives, I will take her aboard Nachi and join the battle.” He looked at Fukui. “Where is the woman?” he demanded. “She should’ve been here by now!”
“I will find out,” Fukui promised, “and send a squad to hurry her escorts.”
One of the cruisers, already steering for the passage, was straddled by bombs before it took a direct hit forward of its stack. The bomb must’ve penetrated the lightly armored deck and exploded near the magazine. In an instant, all that remained was a spreading cloud of smoke, steam, and splashing debris. Kurokawa took a deep, calming, breath. He had only ten cruisers left underway, but they were more than a match for the enemy frigates. Walker will not engage them, he decided. She must save all her guns and torpedoes for my two battleships—and Savoie. “Very well,” he said. “I will wait for Captain Reddy’s wife in my office, but we haven’t a moment to lose. Ensure that Contre-Amiral Laborde knows that I do not want Walker sunk until I can see it—and Captain Reddy can see who I have!” With that, he spun and marched through the mounting destruction around him, quickly attended by his guards.