“This is insubordination!” Wicklow gritted. Who was this foolish woman?
“Not at all, Sir,” Emily said calmly. “I am obeying my orders. Admiral Douthat ordered us to destroy the enemy supply ships, and Captain Grey ordered me to attack them.”
“Don’t play lawyer with me, Tuttle,” he snapped. He leaned into the camera and pounded his fist against the console. “That was before the Dominion reinforcements arrived. We have to fall back and I will not have my orders questioned by a junior officer.”
“Be that as it may, Captain Wicklow, I will obey my standing orders. The supply ships are our absolute priority, even if it means endangering this attack force. Admiral Douthat was clear on that. In just a few minutes, we will have a window in which to fire on the supply ships. With luck, we will be able to escape from the reinforcements before they get too close.”
Wicklow smiled slightly, and Emily knew then that she had somehow fallen into his trap. “Lieutenant Tuttle, I charge you with insubordination, desertion and cowardness. You are under arrest.”
Emily stared at him incredulously, but her shock gave way to anger. She snapped her fingers at Chief Gibson and pointed at her eyes. Gibson looked startled and glanced at Alex Rudd for confirmation.
Rudd nodded, looking unhappy. “Do it, Chief.” A moment later the New Zealand’s targeting sensors lashed out and enveloped the Gloucester. Lt. Commander Rudd barked: “Weapons Officer, prepare to fire missiles and lasers on my command!”
Captain Wicklow looked down at his instruments, then up to Emily, his expression furious. “Are you mad? You dare to put targeting sensors on the Gloucester, one of Her Majesty’s ships?”
There was no turning back, Emily knew. “If you try to interfere with my lawful orders, I will take any steps necessary to stop you. I ask you to stand down, sir. Will you comply?” On screen, she raised her hand to give the signal to fire.
Wicklow glowered at her. “Very well, Tuttle, enjoy your little game, but at the end of the day, I will see you hang for this.” Then, addressing the other captains, Wicklow said: “As senior officer of the Coldstream Guards, I am ordering all of you to join me as I return to the space station Atlas, so that we may rejoin the Home Fleet. Anyone who refuses will face charges. Gloucester out.”
There was a long moment of silence. Then,
“Gloucester, this is Bristol. Unable to comply due to standing orders from New Zealand.”
“Gloucester, this is Australia. We are also unable to comply due to standing orders from New Zealand.”
“Gloucester, this is Perth. Unable to comply due to standing orders from New Zealand.”
And on they went, all except the destroyer Canberra, until the last ship, the tiny frigate Everest, issued its reply as well. “Gloucester, this is Her Majesty’s Ship Everest, Captain Johanna Fuller speaking. I’m sticking with the New Zealand. We’ve come too far to shirk our duty now.”
Captain Wicklow’s face grew dark as he stared at each of them in turn. “You shame the uniform you wear,” he said at last. “And I will see to it that none of you wear it much longer.”
A minute later, the Gloucester curved away from the small clutch of Coldstream Guards, dutifully followed by the destroyer Canberra. In a few moments they were gone. The remaining eight ships stayed in formation around the New Zealand.
Emily slumped back against her chair, then blew out a breath. “Just one big, happy family,” she said.
“This is not exactly how I pictured the end of my career,” Alex Rudd said mournfully.
“Private call from the Bristol,” Betty McCann announced. “It’s Captain Rowe for you, Lieutenant Tuttle.” Emily shot a glance at Rudd, who shrugged.
Captain Rowe’s face appeared on the screen. He didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “You’re playing a very dangerous game here, young lady.”
Emily looked back at him levelly. Alex Rudd came and sat beside her.
“Alex,” Captain Rowe greeted him. Emily remembered that Alex Rudd had started out as the junior Tactical Officer on the Bristol. Rowe turned his attention back to Emily, fixing her with a hard stare.
“No bullshit, Lieutenant. Is Julie Grey dead?”
Emily shook her head. “No, sir, but she’s badly injured.”
He looked at her appraisingly. “Does she know what you’re doing?”
She didn’t want to lie to this man. “Captain Grey gave me specific orders to destroy the enemy’s supply ships, sir. She did not want to give up command to Captain Wicklow for fear he would not fulfill the mission. As to the details, I will tell her when she regains consciousness.” If she regained consciousness.
“Captain Wicklow is within his rights to have your head on a platter, you know that?”
“We have to destroy the Dominion supply train,” she said evenly. “We are out of time. I have a plan in place. Captain Wicklow is content to break contact and run.” Beside her, Rudd nodded in agreement. Rowe’s eyes flickered to him.
“You in on this charade, Alex?”
“All the way,” Rudd replied firmly. “Captain Grey was using Emily’s plan when she was injured in the first attack.”
Chief Gibson was suddenly standing beside them. “I’m in this, too, Captain Rowe.”
Rowe’s face split into a broad grin. “I’ll be dammed, it’s Chief Gibson, the scourge of new lieutenants everywhere. I thought they retired your sorry ass, Chief.”
“Can’t get rid of me, Captain. Fleet’d fall apart in a heartbeat.” He frowned. “Captain, I was with Lieutenant Tuttle when she took out those two freighters that buggered the Invincible and Isle of Man. If it weren’t for her, Lionheart woulda been royally screwed. She’s right smart and she’s plenty fierce. With all respect to Captain Wicklow, nuthin’ timid about her.”
Rowe considered for along moment, then pursed his lips. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but okay, Tuttle, your show. I’ll do my best to keep Wicklow off you, but fair warning, when all this is over, you’re going to have to pay the piper. And Alex, you’ll be right there with her.”
“Yes, sir,” Emily said, not daring to believe what she just heard.
“Good luck. Bristol out.”
Emily took a long, shuddering breath. Get back in the game, girl. “Sensors! Status report! Where are the escorts and where are the supply ships?”
Chief Gibson pushed young Partridge aside and scanned his readings. “Dominion escorts are firing on our decoys. In another minute or so they’ll burn through the ECM and realize they’ve been suckered. The Dominion supply ships just passed into our missile range, but still at extreme range. They’re not evading yet, so I don’t think they know we’re here.”
“Merlin, assume tactical control of all weapons!”
“I have tactical control of all weapons systems,” Merlin confirmed.
Emily used a wand to mark an area between the Victorian ships and the Dominion group rushing toward them. “I want light chaff cover throughout this area.”
“That is within parameters,” Merlin replied.
”As soon as the chaff is placed, I want EMP bursts here and here, and I want proximity bomblets fired continuously into this area.”
“Munitions levels are low, Lieutenant. We have no more than eighty missiles worth of proximity explosives.”
“Then that will have to do,” she said. “Have lasers recharged?”
Merlin paused, then: “Lasers will complete recharging in thirty three seconds.”