“Yea.”
“Well, it looks like I’m not quite as stubborn as you are,” he gasped.
“Oh, I don’t know. Sounded to me like you did a lot of good.”
Chambers tilted his head. “I heard about you too. I guess over time a little bit of you did rub off,” he said. “Did you bring my guitar?”
Jeffers took his guitar out of his case and handed it to him. Chambers let it rest against his chest and his fingers ran over the frets and strings. “Thanks, man. I wanted to play her one last time.”
“It won’t be the last, you’ll…”
“Come on now, we both know what’s happening. But having your best friend with you and playing together is not a bad way to go. When I get to where I’m going, I’ll get some guys together so you can join us some day — kind of like on the ship,” Chambers gasped. His voice was getting weaker. His breaths were becoming whiney.
Jeffers watched as Chambers’ hands moved into a position on the frets and he began to play the Vivaldi Concerto. A peaceful look came over his face as he played. “It’s always been my favorite,” he sighed. He coughed a few times and continued.
Jeffers pulled out his guitar. “I have a surprise for you,” he said as Chambers played. He began playing an accompaniment he had made up to surprise him later on. The music blended into a beautiful duet. The simple melody and a soft harmonization filled the room and drifted out to the other parts of sickbay. Even the doctor stuck his head in to listen. As the music was played, Chambers lay his head back on the pillow. “That’s so nice,” he said.
They played for a couple of minutes when Chambers said just above a whisper, “Just a minute more please.” He began to play some wrong notes. His fingers were struggling to keep up. Then his guitar went silent.
Jeffers immediately switched to the melody. They had played the piece together many times. Now Jeffers would finish it for him. On the last notes, he looked at his friend. The color was already draining from his face. Carter felt for a pulse and found none. She eased his hands from the guitar and placed it beside the bed. There were tears in her eyes as she pulled the sheet over Chambers’ face. Turning to Jeffers, she placed her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Rod,” she said through her tears.
Jeffers pulled her in for a hug. “It’s okay, Angie. He was happy.”
He put his guitar away and then grabbed the other. Jeffers looked at the doctor. “If it’s okay, I’ll take care of getting this to his family,” he said.
The doctor nodded. His eyes were wet as well.
Jeffers took the two guitars and left the space. For the first time in a long time, he felt very alone.
Boats Patnaude was surprised at how many wanted to go to work. About thirty went outside to tackle cleaning up the mess the bombs had made. They began by pulling shrapnel out of the teak deck, then using welding torches to cut away the remnants of the after deckhouse that had been destroyed. Some went to apply grease to the steel cables on the boat davits and some of the other deck gear. To the Russians, it was just like some of the work they had done on their own ship. Several of the officers had tried to stir up trouble, but now they were keeping segregated from the others.
Misha Slovatin volunteered to help translate but then asked if he could go help in the ship’s after steering compartment. It was where he had served aboard his ship. Down deep in the stern of the great ship he came to a very familiar sight. The hydraulic rams were moving the rudder head just like on his ship. He sat down to watch and the young men on watch began to talk to him. Like most young people, curiosity got the better of them and they began talking and exchanging information about where they were from, what they did in their youth, their jobs aboard their ships and what it was like on opposite sides of the world. When one of the routine drills sounded and after steering took control, Misha was thrilled when they let him steer the ship. He would become friends with many of the crew.
“So the America was the only one hit?” Hammond asked.
“Yes, sir. She took five missiles, but is steaming just outside the landing area, repairing her damage and getting ready to return home. Admiral Hustvedt said that the ship’s captain turned off the cloak just before the ship was hit and caused the missiles to lock in,” said an Army captain.
“I thought all the missiles had been reprogramed. Is it not working?” Hammond asked his intelligence watch.
“Actually, it is working quite well. Only two of our tanks have been hit and they were lucky shots from what I see. The air missiles are flying all over the sky and their artillery is hitting nothing but open ground. These missiles were from small patrol boats. It looks like the changes only go down to a certain level via the radio updates. They may get theirs from some shore command. In any case, by knocking out their satellites, the changes have to come via regular radio and we are jamming that. So far, it’s working,” the intelligence officer said.
“Well, we can’t predict everything, can we,” Hammond said with a smile. “Is there a closer place the America could be repaired?”
“Not really. She lost her bridge and CIC. Her hangar deck is a shambles. The best place for her is back home,” said one of the Navy staffers.
“Okay, send her home. Now how bad is the Iowa?”
“Fully operational as far as we can see. They rescued over 400 sailors and have to find places for them aboard. They did suffer a few casualties including their Deck Department Head. He got hit by the first bomb. They are requesting mattresses and a replacement, otherwise, they are ready,” said the Navy staffer.
Hammond thought a moment. “That’s still a lieutenant commander billet isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
Hammond reached over and picked up the satellite phone. He dialed a number and it began ringing. “This is Admiral Hammond, let me speak to Admiral Hustvedt.” After a minute he came on the line. “Chris, it’s Roger. You all set for phase two?”
“Ready to go. The supply operations are already shifting to Turkey. The last of our supplies and equipment should go ashore this afternoon, then we are free and clear,” Hustvedt said.
“Good. Except for the America, you were able to do it without a hitch. Nice work. Did you see how the Iowa needs a department head?”
“Yes, sir, I saw. Do we have the same young man in mind?”
“Yes. Why don’t we send him TAD while I clear it through Naval Personnel? The way this is going, he should get plenty of time to make it count. When can he leave?” asked Hammond
“Hang on. You know he’s been wounded.”
Hammond sat straight up in his seat. A look of concern crossed his face. “What happened?”
Hustvedt relayed it all to him. Hammond felt pride rise in his chest for what his young friend had done. Yet he was still concerned about his wounds. “You writing it all up?” he asked.
“Every bit of it. I also have corroborating statements from witnesses. The doctor says he will be fine, but needs some rest. There’s one other thing. His best friend was killed. He may need some time for that as well. I ordered him to his rack and told him to stay there. I’m leaving the America today for the Wisconsin. He’s going to stay behind until the doctor releases him. Why don’t I order up an Osprey to take him to Iowa when Doc gives the okay?” Hustvedt asked.
“Sounds fine, Chris. Is there anything we can do from here?”
“No, Roger, he’ll be fine. Besides, a little time aboard your old ship will do him good,” Hustvedt offered.
Hammond took a second to remember what it was like aboard his ship. He grinned. “You may be right. Send him over, and when you talk to him, tell him I said to stay out of trouble.”