“There is no such thing as too slow…” he muttered.
* * *
“That wasn’t the worst coming-alongside I’ve ever seen,” Mike said, looking around the interior. “Say, you know how you told me I could have a boat…?”
“We’ll have to call a captain’s conference,” Steve said. “This is, among other things, going to take some serious crew…”
CHAPTER 21
“I think the Large needs to be a harbor queen for now,” Steve said over the radio. “It drinks fuel, we don’t have that many people that we need a boat this size and it’s a bitch to actually use. If we did use it I’d see it as an at-sea base. If we can find enough fuel for it.”
“Cooper here,” Chris said over the radio. “I can see that but what about theft?”
“Just about out of fuel,” Mike said. “We’ll drain it down and it’s not going anywhere. Leave it alongside the Victoria. We might have a use for it later. It runs, anyway.”
“This is Endeavor. We’re getting beat up in this minnow. Could use a bigger boat.”
Stephen Blair, the sole survivor of the 35' Viking Worthy Endeavor, had had issues from the beginning. But he’d also cleared more than forty rafts and lifeboats since taking over the battered ship.
“Endeavor, Seawolf,” Sophia said. “You do not want to con this thing alongside a raft. Concur, Da, this is a support ship. Better in harbor for now.”
“Endeavor,” he thought for a second about the growing fleet. “Sea Fit. You are both next up for a bigger vessel. Will determine that when available. But this is a monster. Any likely candidates?”
“Endeavor. We just relayed another. About sixty five. Wouldn’t mind if it’s useable.”
“Do we have a location on that?” Steve asked.
“Yeah,” Mike said. “Back at the Vicky.”
“I’ve got it on the Toy,” Sophia said.
“My recommendation,” Steve said. “Use this for harbor base. Staff with reliable personnel. Bring in new personnel for rest and recovery prior to assignment. Comments and response for vote? Sea Fit.”
“I’m fine on my boat for now,” Captain Sherill replied. “And, yeah, that sounds like a plan.”
“Endeavor?”
“We need a bigger boat,” Blair replied. “But agree.”
“Knot?”
“I’d go for a bigger boat,” Gary Loper of the Knot So Little replied. “I guess I’m next after Blair?”
“Other discussion,” Steve said. “Not saying no, just later discussion. Agree leave Large harbor for rest and refit?”
“Yeah, I can go with that. But about a larger boat?”
The truth was that Steve didn’t think that Loper and his crew deserved a larger boat. They just seemed to be cruising around and coming in from time to time to draw on supplies.
“Captain’s vote for next upgrade,” Steve said. “Cannot nominate self.” He thought about it for a second and tried not to grimace. He knew he was playing politics. By the real rules, Blair should be the first to nominate. But if he nominated Loper, which was the only real choice, others might follow. But Sherill not only liked his boat, small as it was, but liked Blair.
“Sea Fit.”
“Blair from the Endeavor,” Sherill replied, instantly.
“Endeavor.”
“Seawolf,” Blair replied.
“Seriously?” Sophia asked.
“Knot So Large.”
“Uh… Seawolf.”
“Damn,” Sophia muttered.
“Daniel Cooper.”
“Blair.”
“That bastard,” Sophia said.
“Victoria.”
“Blair,” Mike said into the radio.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence!” Sophia said.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Mike said, grinning. “You’re going to get the Endeavor.”
“Oooh,” Sophia said, then grimaced. “It really is small.”
“It’s a good learning boat,” Steve said. “Tina’s Toy abstains. Any votes against Captain Blair for the next upgrade…? The ayes have it. Next good boat goes to Captain Blair and his chosen crew. Any old business we really need to cover cause I’m going to have to head out to that sixty-five.”
“Commodore, Cooper,” Chris said. “We’re in position and have Clearance team bravo. Will vector to clear.”
“Roger, Cooper,” Steve said, trying not to let the surprise enter his voice. He’d started to forget he didn’t have to do it all.
“You don’t have to do it all, comm,” Chris said.
“Any other business?” Steve asked.
“We’d like a bigger boat as soon as possible,” Loper said.
“We’ll discuss that when the question comes up,” Steve said. “Anything else?” He looked over as Mike raised his hand. “Victoria.”
“We’re burning an awful lot of diesel,” Mike said over the radio. “I mean, try to refuel from derelicts if you can or tow them in here and we’ll get it out. But we’re going through diesel like crazy.”
“Keep an eye out for small tankers,” Steve said. “Anything else critical?”
“Can we get some of that vaccine?” Loper called. “Some of my crew are asking.”
* * *
The radio tech leaned forward clamping his earphones to his ears.
“What?” Petty Officer Second Class Stan Bundy asked, picking up his own set.
The Los Angeles Class attack boat SSN 900, USS Dallas, had been tracking the formation of this “at sea militia” as it had been classified for the last three weeks, ever since radio communication between multiple boats between Bermuda and the U.S. had been detected.
“Vaccine,” Electronic’s Mate Harry Fredette whispered.
* * *
“Son of a bitch!” Steve swore, then keyed the radio. “Okay, Knot, first of all, thanks for bringing any pirates that may still exist down on us. Like we covered, that is not for discussion over the radio. But since we’re discussing something, no, the supply is limited and it is only for clearance personnel. You want some, do some clearing. Or, even, maybe, pick up some survivors!”
* * *
“Upload this for priority exam,” Bundy said, hitting a key and backing up the recording…
* * *
“Hey, we’re busting our ass out here in this dinky little boat and we don’t need your shit, ‘commodore’! We’ve been clearing these damned lifeboats. There’s nobody home.”
“Loper, you’re full of shit,” Blair called. “We’ve cleared twenty lifeboats in the last couple of days. And, yeah, there’s not much. But we’ve picked up six people. On our even dinkier boat…”
“Clear the channels,” Steve said as the channel got cluttered with people screaming at each other. “Clear the… Ah, shit.”
* * *
“Christ I want to cut in.”
Commander Rex Bradburn was frustrated, angry and scared. Which described his entire crew. They’d started to sea before the plague was spread and had remained at sea since. Because to make contact meant dying. Like their families on shore.
But a sub could only stay at sea for so long. Sure, the pile would last twenty years, more if you only used low power. But all the other systems? Not to mention food. They had gone on short rations as soon as they found out they were on “extended deployment.” That only lasted so long. And that went for all the surviving boats. Some of them had already dropped off the screen, just lost. Possibly mutinied but more likely something vital broke at the wrong time or the wrong depth. Others had snuck into deserted harbors and put their crews ashore to survive as best they could.