"Weapons ready, sir," Kanjiro reported with a resolute expression and cast a look at the blinking lights on the status board. "Don't fail us," he said to himself.
"Stand by," Takagi calmly advised.
The junior officer on the fire-control team reached up and carefully placed his safety-interlock contact switches in the off position. "Weapons armed, sir."
"Very well."
Takagi hesitated for a brief moment and experienced the serenity of a mind completely at ease. "Fire One."
Everyone stared at the status board as the compressed-air charge hurtled the first Sea Ferret out of the specially designed launch tube.
All hands simultaneously felt the sudden pressure-pulse in their middle ears.
Along with his crew, Takagi plugged his nostrils and purged his eustachian tubes to equalize the air pressure on both sides of his tympanic membranes.
"Tube One fired, Captain."
"Stand by," Takagi replied in a clear voice. His trembling fingers were the only visible indications of the temporary increase in activity in his central nervous system.
The Sea Ferret rapidly accelerated out of the mass of air bubbles as the onboard computer double-checked its systems and the functions of the external control surfaces. A split second after the compatibility check, the weapon's active sonar sent out a wave of sound energy to initially locate and track the designated target. After the stealthy torpedo was stabilized on course, the passive sonar locked on the sound signature of the American cruiser.
"Fire Two," Takagi ordered and immediately lowered the periscope. His responsibility was finished as far as he was concerned; now it was up to the Sea Ferrets to complete the mission and avenge a small slice of Japan's honor.
The second torpedo plunged out of the tube and the crew again cleared their ears.
"Tube Two fired, Captain."
"Right full rudder," the CO said hastily and looked directly in Kanjiro's widened eyes. "Level at sixty-five meters and set course for the South China Sea."
"Yes, sir," he replied with a happy expression.
Chapter 36
The crew remained at general quarters while hundreds of sailors and Marines fought the flight-deck blaze and the secondary fires belowdeck. Hawk's escort vessels continued to spray water on the burning ship while exhausted officers and men struggled together in an effort to clear the remaining weapons from the four-and-a-half-acre flight deck.
Though tired, hungry, and soggy, the men were methodically throwing bombs, rockets, ammunition, and other ordnance over the side of the ship, then staggering back into the heat and smoke to search for more explosives before the ammo could cook off and start more fires.
Rear Admiral Isaac Landesman looked down at the blackened and scorched deck where part of the raging inferno had been contained. Thousands of pieces of aircraft and firefighting gear lay strewn in a tangled mess on the wet, slippery flight deck.
Landesman lowered his head. God, give us the courage and strength to overcome this tragedy. Please don't let—
"Excuse me, sir." The carrier group commander's aide interrupted the silent prayer.
Landesman turned to see the sadness written on the junior officer's face.
"What is it, Tom?"
"Damage control has confirmed at least twenty-nine casualties in the berthing spaces directly below the flight deck." The JO looked down, fighting the ache inside. "They never had a chance."
Landesman inspected the jagged holes in the steel deck near the two remaining arresting-gear cables. "Below where the bombs went off?"
"Yes, sir."
The Admiral was about to speak when a devastating explosion rocked the big carrier from fantail to bow.
Stunned, Landesman glanced aft as a huge geyser of water shot skyward and engulfed the deck-edge platform used by the squadron landing-signal officers. "That must be ordnance from belowdeck!"
The aide stepped to the window. "It looks like something went off on the hangar bay."
When the spray had cleared, the sailors who had been holding a hose near the LSO platform were gone.
Landesman was sure the trio of firefighters had been blown over the side of the carrier. He reached for his handset to initiate the man-overboard rescue exercise, then stopped in midsentence when another horrendous blast near the bow shook the mighty warship.
Momentarily speechless, Landesman realized that Kitty Hawk was being torpedoed.
Standing behind the senior sonar technician, Commander Shigezo Takagi heard both Sea Ferrets detonate. He felt a strange mixture of elation tempered by pessimism. Seconds later, he turned to his XO. "I hit something, but I don't know if it was the carrier."
"I've got a feeling it was the carrier," Oda Kanjiro said with unrestrained enthusiasm. "What a shot!"
After what seemed like an eternity, the sonar operator stared at his display and made the announcement Takagi had been waiting to hear.
"Sir," he reported in a hushed voice, "I've got a solid contact from one of the cruisers."
Takagi turned to his second-in-command and smiled broadly. "If the torpedoes ran at the proper depth, we hit the carrier."
Oda Kanjiro returned the smile. "Sir, our Sea Ferrets ran true. I'm positive we got the carrier."
Steve rinsed his mouth and placed his toothbrush in its plastic container while he thought about the hassle he and Susan had gone through with the Japanese law-enforcement officials. Shigeki Okamoto had died at the scene, and the first police officers who arrived had arrested Susan and Steve and confiscated their weapons.
After numerous phone calls to the headquarters of the FBI and CIA, along with a blizzard of paperwork, Steve and Susan were finally given back their personal weapons and released from custody.
Wickham took a swig of mouthwash and thought about Tadashi Matsukawa. The man is getting away with murder. He looked in the mirror and studied the tiny scar above his upper lip, then spat the mouthwash in the basin. Hell, the sonuvabitch has been getting away with every crime in the book for years. We've got to find a way to corner him.
The telephone rang and Steve went to answer it while he dried his mouth.
"Wickham."
"Steve," Susan inquired with a touch of concern in her voice, "are you up and around?"
"Sure. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, but I just saw a report that one of our aircraft carriers was hit by a missile from a Japanese ship. It — a Harpoon missile, I think — apparently landed on the flight deck and caused a huge fire and numerous explosions."
The fateful news surprised and angered him. "What happened to cause them to fire a missile at us?"
"I really don't know. It's a breaking story."
She paused a moment. "Are you dressed?"
"Well, I'm in my warm-up rags." He looked down at his jogging pants. "Come on over and we'll turn on CNN."
"I'll be there in a minute." Her voice was tight and she nervously hesitated. "CNN isn't on the air — at least not in our hotel."
"Interesting."
"I thought so."
"The door'll be open."
"Okay."
Steve opened the door a few inches and a minute later Susan quietly knocked on it and slipped inside.
"What's happening?" he asked while she locked the door.
"From what I could gather from the local news," she began as her delicate fragrance drifted to him, "the Japanese claim that one of their destroyers accidentally fired a missile at our ship."
"Accidentally?" Steve asked with a dubious look.
"That's what the local stations are reporting. The carrier Kitty Hawk is on fire and there seems to be some confusion about how badly the ship is damaged. A senior officer, who is currently flying over the scene, said the fire appears to be out of control."