Dishlakov was thrown into the bulkhead along with every sailor on the battle bridge. Glass shattered, and men screamed as their electronic suites exploded into the frightened faces. Seawater rose to a height of three hundred feet before it came crashing down onto the exposed sailors fighting her fires. Her number-one forward gun mount was tossed into the air as if it were nothing but a toy being kicked by a petulant child. The sea rushed into the now sheared-off bow of the mightiest vessel ever built by the Russians. Her engines kept up their relentless push as they continued to drive Peter the Great through the now erupting seas.
Water finally succeeded in doing what the torpedo hadn’t. The engine room came to pieces as the sea struck her hot power plant. The stern of the missile cruiser erupted up and out, blasting men and equipment into the opening created by the failing engines.
Peter the Great slowly settled into the water as her remaining forward sections dug deeply into the violet-colored seas. Fire and smoke marked the area where she came to a complete stop. Alarms continued to sound as men started to rise from her decks. They stumbled, assisted others, and watched in abject astonishment as every Wasakoo aboard ran and dove into the sea. The circling mantas and their riders splashed into the water and vanished as if they had never been.
The sea was now littered with large sections and floating bodies of the two most powerful warships in the history of the world. The one remaining vessel was still anchored in the center of an ever-expanding mass of debris and dead men.
The last target left — Simbirsk — waited for the final blow to come.
Hand-to-hand battle raged across the expansive deck of the Simbirsk. Sailors and marines were running low on ammunition as they fought with the attacking Wasakoo. The war was brutal as men fought this strange enemy on a sea that was unrecognizable. They all, to a man, did not want to die in this world.
Jack had nearly been impaled by a spear as brutal looking as any medieval weapon from humankind’s own history. The iron tip penetrated his pant leg and seared his skin as it nicked his upper thigh. He pulled the spear free of the steel and material and then threw it at a charging Wasakoo. The weapon struck the creature and went straight through its chest. The Wasakoo crumpled and then hissed in Jack’s direction as it slowly fell and then rolled underneath the railing and fell into the sea.
Henri let loose with the Thompson at a group of Wasakoo as they tried to fight their way up the bridge ladders. He sent five of them crashing down onto the steel deck, but two others were still climbing. He cursed his luck when the bolt of the Thompson slammed open and stayed there. He tossed the weapon away just as Ryan let loose with his Colt .45. The two Wasakoo Henri had missed flew off the ladder and fell to their deaths.
The horns started sounding from the boats that had been tied up next to Simbirsk. The seashell call reverberated even over the noise of close-quarter battle.
Collins and the others were stunned as every Wasakoo that had boarded the battle cruiser jumped over the side. The battle had ended just as fast as it had started.
Jack looked around and took stock. The fires that had erupted were still blazing, but he suspected that the attack was not meant to take down the Russian relic. Men were gathering themselves, prodded by Ryan and a few of the marines to start battling the remaining fires that still flamed high into the air. He went to the rail and, after wiping blood from his face, stared at the destruction floating all around them.
Shiloh was dead in the water only fifteen hundred feet away. Her stern section was a mass of twisted steel and flaming debris. She was settling into the water at a rate Jack knew was possibly fatal. He watched as damage control parties scrambled from section to section attempting to save their dying ship. His eyes next went to the mass of flames rising less than a mile away as Peter the Great began to slide bow first into the water. Even with the devastation, Collins saw several large Zodiacs as they sped reinforcements toward the stricken Peter the Great. Even with his own ship in peril, Captain Johnson was sending assistance over to fellow sailors.
“They’re still trying to save her,” Everett said as he stepped up to Jack as he searched his bandolier for another clip of .45 rounds for his now useless Thompson, which he tossed to the deck when he found it empty.
“What in the hell hit us?” Farbeaux said as he assisted Ryan in tossing over the side the bodies they had just sent to their doom. He watched as the dead Wasakoo splashed into the water, and then he faced Carl and Jack.
Collins became silent as he angrily watched two great ships fighting for their lives within visual range. He had never felt so helpless in his life. Spitting blood from his mouth, he turned and searched until he found the pack lying on the deck. It was smoldering from some of the chemical accelerant used by the Wasakoo, and he quickly stamped it out. He opened the case and then pulled free the canvas bag they had recovered from the village. He ran his thumb over the Cyrillic lettering as he looked from it to the violet seas.
“I believe the theory of our friend Salkukoff having another ship out there has been confirmed in no uncertain terms, gentlemen,” Henri said as he watched Jack study the canvas bag. He felt the shudder of the Simbirsk under his feet as the wake from the distant detonations reached the Russian ship. It again settled as Jack looked into Henri’s blue eyes.
“Not a ship—a boat,” he said as Ryan joined them. His arm was dangling some, as he had taken one of the elongated arrows to the forearm. It was a simple wound and one he could live with, but it still smarted as he kicked at the remains of a Wasakoo, which he simply nudged under the railing and into the sea. “A submarine,” he said as he again read the canvas bag.
“The only boat we had in tow before this mess started was Houston,” Carl said to Jack. “But she had to have been destroyed or sunk during the transition to the phase shift. If we hadn’t heard from her by now, she’s had it, Jack. Those boats are like eggshells.”
“Not Houston,” Collins said as he finally looked up and over at the flaming Peter the Great. He tossed Henri the bag but faced Everett. “Somewhere out there is the Rostov-on-Don. She has to be a Russian sub.”
All three men were aghast.
“And this canvas carryall was from the boat’s stores,” Henri said as he quickly deduced that Collins was right.
“If they have a sub that has phase shift capability, why do they need Simbirsk? Why wouldn’t they center their attack on us? Why just Peter the Great and Shiloh?” Ryan asked.
“I don’t know,” Jack said as he continued to look out to sea.
“I guess we’re about to find out,” Carl said as he pointed to something a mile away.