Hunter's Moon: Counter-Attack
#10 of Hunter's Moon
Author's Notes: The battle for the airbase will commence in this chapter. Sorry if I can't update regularly. I have lots of things to take care of. Also, take note that some scenes in this chapter might remind you of certain books, video games and/or movies.
Disclaimer: Contains scenes not suitable for innocent minds, please leave now if you are under the age of 18. If you are still here, you are one of three things.
1.) You are of suitable age to view this site and its contents.
2.) You just don't give a damn.
3.) You are a disturbed person.
This story is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real people and places is purely coincidental. The author reserves the right to expel predators without prior notice.
Hunter's Moon: The Counter-Attack
Time: Indeterminate
Place: Egyptian Underworld
Captain Price
The demi-god Anubis Schumann was pacing before me, wearing a groove into the sandy chamber. I had watched helplessly from a crystal orb what was happening inside Schneider. While I myself am powerless to influence events back on Earth, Schumann is not.
Therefore, to see him pacing the chamber with his brow furrowed was disheartening. As time has no meaning here, I just kept track of the groove he was making in the floor. From my vantage point, it appeared to be at least two feet deep.
I deigned to interrupt his feverish pacing, but I could not seem to work up the nerve.
Finally, I heard him speak. And it chilled me to my very core.
"Aurum, prepare the troops. We will show these pitiful humans why it is a bad idea to mess with destiny!"
I felt myself answer with a very stunned "Yes" and that was it. Humanity's fate was sealed.
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1700 hours CST
35,000 feet
E-3 Sentry "Overseer"
"Hammer 01, this is Overseer. We will be moving off station. Our replacement is Dragon. Do you copy, Hammer?" the radio operator seated at his station informed the QRF team on the ground.
"Copy that, Overseer. Time until Dragon gets here?" the distinct voice of Captain Dalton's calm reply seemed to reassure the operator.
"Give him 30 mikes. He's one of those slow, prop-driven Navy Prowlers" the operator joked.
"We'll wait. We appear to have some semblance of peace at the moment. What does the IR scan show?" Dalton asked, wanting a clear picture around his armored shelter.
Judging from Dalton's no-nonsense tone, the operator correctly deduced that the Force Recon commander was under some stress. A relief force would have to be airlifted from another base to fully shatter the rebel's hold on Schneider.
Switching frequencies, the operator first inquired from the mission commander if he could contact a certain armored column. When the commander gave his affirmative response, the operator contacted Wiley 2-0 of 1st Armored Cav.
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1705 hours CST
300 miles to Schneider's north
Brigadier General William "Wiley 2-0" Fox
Commanding Officer of 1st Armored Cavalry
Forward Operating Base: Charlie
"Wiley 2-0, this is Overseer. I have a request to make" the radio call came over the tank commander's air waves.
"Go ahead Overseer, this is FOB Charlie" one of the radiomen replied for the general.
"FOB Charlie, I need a patch to General Fox. It's urgent that he gets his orders"
"Say again, Overseer. What orders?"
"FOB Charlie, this is Warlord. You have a new mission priority. Take and hold Schneider AFB. 300 clicks to your immediate south" Lieutenant General Robert G. Abrams interrupted the transmission from FOB Charlie.
"Bert, this better not be one of your hawkish plans to wipe out a small rebel unit" General Fox replied good-naturedly, placing emphasis on the word "small".
"I wish that were true, kiddo. However, these rebels infiltrated the White House bunker and almost assassinated President Daniels" General Abrams replied, a trace of fire entering his voice.
"What do you want us to do?" General Fox asked politely.
"I want you to take your tanks and charge at full speed towards the base. Airborne recon shows that there are no mine fields facing north and your armored vehicles are well-equipped to evacuate our trapped forces" Warlord continued, issuing out marching orders.
"When did you want this done, sir?" General Fox answered, his tone all-business now.
"Yesterday afternoon, Warlord out" Bert Abrams broke off. The time piece in the CP read 17:15.
The forty-one year old general had served with Petraeus in Iraqi Freedom. He acquired command of the 1st Armored Cavalry when his senior officer was killed by an insurgent's IED. He was known as being rash and impulsive, often sputtering expletives to urge his troops forward. In some respects, he was a modern version of Old Blood and Guts. Other times, he cared for his soldiers and took calculated risks that were sure to win the day. The troops that served with him called the general "Patton & Bradley Junior" or PB & J for short.
Right now, PB & J faced a challenge the likes of which he had never encountered. He was being asked, no ordered, to charge 300 miles and destroy a friendly base. Patton was rumored to have once remarked 'If I find myself caught between Russian and Nazi tank forces, I'll fight my way out of both'.
With the task laid bare before him, was Fox up to the task? Only his actions would confirm or disprove that theory.
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1315 PST
Joint Naval Exercise 30 miles west of Puget Sound
USS Solent Task Group
USS Solent (CVN-88)
USS Bainbridge (DD-998)
USS Salt Lake City (DD-1001)
USS Minneapolis (DDH-433)
USS Alexander (SSBN - 232)
USS Baja (SSN-444)
USS Missouri (BB-68)
USS New Jersey (BB-67)
HMS Victorious Task Group
9 Type 42 destroyers (Antelope, Gazelle, Emu, Anzac, Wellington, York, Malta, Valetta, Ardent)
HMS Dreadnought (SSN-210)
HMS Cromwell (SSN-211)
HMS Victorious (CV-08)
Admiral Thomas More, USN
Admiral Sheila Patel, RN
"Sir, this just in from the Pentagon" an operator onboard the USS Solent handed over a print-out of a coded message towards Admiral More. When the order had finished being decoded electronically, the operator tore off the paper from the dot-matrix printer and personally hand-carried it to the admiral.
Simultaneously, on board the flagship Victorious, the Admiralty had just supplied a similar set of orders to Admiral Patel.
Both commanding officers let out a gasp as they finished reading the orders. There was no way they could be given such an order. Not with the amount of ordnance that they were being told to let loose. And not on the friendly shores to the east.
The orders were irrefutable: At the stroke of seven and a quarter Central Time, the task group will let loose with their cruise missiles at the receipt of the radio message GNOME repeat GNOME. Destroy message.
"God in Almighty heaven" Admiral More breathed out.
"Oh my Lord" Admiral Patel spoke in a voice barely above the listening threshold inside her Combat Information Center deep within the bowels of HMS Victorious.
"Send this message to the task group: All ships come about, we are heading south to Oregon" Admiral More ordered the fleet Executive Officer standing beside him.
"Yes, sir!" the naval officer saluted. He then ordered the helmsman to shift course.
"Helmsman, come about! We are heading back to shore"
"Aye, aye sir!" the helmsman replied, turning his wheel to the right. The massive Washington-class super carrier turned slowly to starboard. This move was followed by the combined British and United States naval group.
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USS Bainbridge
Captain John C. Chatterson
Bridge
"Sir, orders from the admiral. We are to proceed closer to the West Coast. Prepare cruise missiles for launching?" Petty Warrant Officer Ronald Kirkpatrick read the message, his intonation rising at the last sentence.
"Radio the admiral. Request for clarification of that order" Captain Chatterson responded in kind.
"Yes, sir. Solent, Solent, this is Bainbridge. Retransmit the last order" the PWO radioed back.
"Bainbridge, this is Solent. Your orders are to proceed to your designated coordinates. Sound General Quarters when coast is in sight" the Solent replied.
"Thank you, Solent. Bainbridge, out" the PWO replied. He then turned to his superior with a grim look on his face.
"So, its true then. We are attacking one of our own bases" Captain Chatterson spoke solemnly. The only reason for the Pentagon to send such a message would be if there was an ongoing coup. There had not been any situation that called for a launch on a home base.
"Very well, sound General Quarters. Prepare the crew for battle" the captain spoke once more, this time with more bite to his tone.
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1720 hours CST
Hangar 4
Schneider Air Base
Captain A.A.C.I. Dalton (Hammer 01)
Captain Wesson (Holly)
1st Lieutenant Vasquez (Leo)
"Holly, what the hell happened to you?" Cid asked of his one-time friend from Quantico.
"Well, the short version of it was that I was in the wrong place at the right time" Holly answered.
"I need a better reason than that, Holly. You still owe me for Somalia" Cid replied, in passing reference to the rescue of Captain, then 2nd Lieutenant Wesson, from Somali pirates.
"I know, I know. But, you'll have to bear with me for the moment. I... COUNTERATTACK!!!!" Holly replied, until he glanced up and saw a large batch of Lycan rebels charging for the hangar. Holly and Leo moved in sync to shield Dalton from the oncoming assault. Both Lycans bristled at the threat to Dalton and would make the attackers pay dearly for every step they took.
"Hammer 01, this is Citadel. Dragon has been called off. I am your eye in the sky for now" Dalton's portable beeped. "Hammer 01, do you copy?" it continued.
"Weapons free! Weapons free!" one of the defenders shouted when he saw the large number of Lycans heading his way. At that, the defenders opened fire with a hail of lead and silver. Three mounted M249 SAWs began to cut down the flood of attackers. Two of these were mounted on the flanks; the third was firing from a platform high above the hangar floor.
Both Lycan officers and Captain Dalton were isolated from the hangar's entrance by the sheer number of brutes charging. Amazingly, though they were jostled about, none of them came to any harm. It would seem that the primary objective was to flatten the defending humans inside the hangar. Any other humans would be mopped up after the battle.
"Leo, thinking what I'm thinking?" Holly muttered, after seeing a couple of undamaged Bradley IFVs.
"If you're thinking about beef jerky, then yes" Leo answered.
"Do you mind translating for those of us who don't speak beast?" Dalton said, from his prone position on the asphalt.
Leo, cover me. I'll bring Cid over to one of those IFVs. Once he's inside, we join our packmates in defense of the hangar. We CANNOT let them reach Sage, understand?
Yes, Alpha Holly. Just don't be mad at Cid when he gets back.
Immediately, Dalton was picked up by Holly and shoved into one of the few undamaged armored vehicles. After being emphatically told to stay inside, another soldier was shoved in. The rear hatch was then shut and both humans aimed what weapons they still had at the rear and top hatches.
"Sir, how the hell do we get outta here?!!!" the soldier asked, his tag reading Smith, J.
"You know how to drive this thing, soldier?" Dalton asked, ignoring the question from the panicked soldier, looking at the controls.
"Uh, yeah. Guess I do" the soldier admitted sheepishly, scratching his head.
"Start her up. I'll see if I can get a course for the hangar" Cid said, looking through the periscope sight.
As soon as Smith pressed the starter, the engine roared to life. Without further ado, the IFV began to move along on its caterpillar tracks. Almost immediately, a piece of the Lycan horde broke away and made for the IFV.
"You remember what happens when you're about to hit a deer?" Cid yelled at Smith, looking through the sights.
"Speed up, sir?" Smith answered.
"Speed up!" Cid roared, opening the top hatch as he did so. From his position, he cocked the M60 LMG mounted on a pintle beside his hatch. Lycans that leapt into the air were knocked back when the LMG breathed fire.
With every Lycan knocked back, at least three more sprung up in an attempt to overrun the IFV. Those that did not get out of the way of the speeding IFV were run over.
"They're going like bowling pins" Smith exclaimed from the driver's seat, enjoying flattening another Lycan.
"Just keep your foot on the pedal. We're almost at the hangar" Cid replied.
"Sorry if I kept you waiting" another voice sounded inside the compartment, causing Smith to hit the brake and almost tossing Dalton out of the turret.
"Sir, get out! Lycan in the compartment!" Smith shouted over his intercom.
"Au contraire. Lycan ALPHA in the compartment" the voice stated, before Smith screamed. The scream was abruptly cut off and Dalton knew that the soldier was dead.
Running on his training, Dalton immediately got out of the turret and dropped a flashbang inside, followed by a fragmentation. He rolled off the Bradley as the grenades exploded.
Sprinting towards the waiting defenders, he jumped over the corpses of dead and dying Lycans.
He didn't get there fast enough.
"Where do you think you're going?" a hand grabbed his ankle in mid-jump, causing the captain to fall on his face.
Quickly, Cid drew his pistol and fired fifteen rounds of 9mm Parabellum point-blank into the Lycan's face. When the gun clicked on an empty magazine, he reloaded a fresh one in and kept on firing. The hand holding on to him released its grip and Dalton limped into the arms of his waiting team.
"You got lucky this time, human" the jackal Lycan spat out, blood dripping from his shattered face. "Next time, I'll make you my bitch for all eternity". He then vanished in a puff of smoke.
The adrenaline that had powered Dalton's dash to safety abruptly left him. He collapsed into the arms of Hammer team and the marine QRF. Breathless, he looked into the amber eyes of Captain Wesson and blacked out.
What he did not know was that this was only the beginning.
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17.00 hours PST
Combined Naval Task Group
Admiral Thomas More, C-in-C on USN Solent
Admiral Sheila Patel, C-in-C on RN Victorious
With fifteen minutes to go before missile launch, both commanders were deep in conversation. They discussed the remote possibility that they would not launch the missiles on the off chance there were still friendly units in the area.
"Tom, I don't know if I can go along with this....this.... madness" Sheila confided over the phone to her counterpart.
"I can't do a thing about it Shiela. The moment we receive the transmission, I have no choice but to let loose with everything we have. If the President believes that this is the lesser evil, I will have to follow it" More replied sadly.
Just then, a member of the American admiral's staff knocked on the admiral's quarters with urgent news. Tiredly, and feeling like his fifty years, the admiral called the sailor into his quarters.
"What is it sailor?" Admiral More asked.
"Sir, Pentagon just called. We are being ordered to stand down until further notice. General Abrams has something up his sleeve" Commander Roger Stanton informed his CO.
"Really? That's the best news I got today" Admiral More replied sarcastically.
The flight officer took a long, hard swallow. "Also, Team Six just got diverted. They are returning to port onboard the Minneapolis for immediate insertion"
"Damn! I thought we would get to bring them to Hawaii!" Admiral Patel stated from the interphone.
"No, ma'am. We have orders to insert them at San Diego for their HALO drop on Schneider. These.." handing the telex to the admiral, "are the orders".
"Oh my God!" the admiral breathed out as he finished reading the decoded message.
The message read:
In event of the 1st Armored Cavalry's failure to take and hold the base, the entire battle group will launch their Tomahawk cruise missiles. Targets will be pinpointed by assets in the air and on the ground. The strike will be simultaneous with the 35th Strike Wing's bombing with 5000 lb. JDAMS (Joint Direct Attack Munitions) carried by the B-1B Lancers. B-2's will follow up with carpet bombs. F/A - 18s from the Solent will provide CAP and CAS.
The radio signal to be announced is ZANZIBAR repeat ZANZIBAR. Destroy message.
"Mr. President, I don't know if I can do that" the admiral whispered to the room.
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17.30 hours CST
1st Armored Cavalry
General "PB & J" Fox
"I want the first platoon of tanks to form an arrowhead. If the enemy has any anti-tank emplacements left after the Hogs strafed the place, the combined armored vanguard will take the first hits" the general said, addressing the room of officers.
He continued, "Our light armored vehicles will be proceeding behind the tanks. I want the rest of the armor to stack up in a diamond shape with the light armor units in the center. The light armored transports must make it through to the base! Furthermore, I will not tolerate insubordination at the front line. Those soldiers once served our country, but their actions today will be their death knell. Any unknowns outside the hangar's vicinity will be dealt with as if they were hostile. Let God sort them out".
He let the orders sink in for a moment before he asked, "Any questions?"
"Sir, what of our air?" one of the junior officers asked. The officer in question received a lot of death glares from the others.
"The 28th Strike Wing will be on station. Their Falcons will be clearing a path direct to the base. Any more questions?" he asked. When he was met with silence, he nodded his head.
"MOVE OUT!" he ordered. Immediately, the assembled men and women saluted and rushed out of the command post.
The place was emptied within ten minutes. General Fox picked up his combat helmet and strapped it on, replacing his cap. As he tightened the straps, he heard footsteps behind him. Without even turning around, the general had an inkling of who the visitor was.
"This is not a wise decision, general. I beseech you to allow dialogue" the visitor pleaded.
"You and I both know that the time for dialogue has passed. There is no going back" the general answered, all the while strapping on his Kevlar and holstering his pistol.
A sharp claw was placed on the general's shoulder, causing the grizzled vet to shudder involuntarily. Still, the general showed no outward signs of fear.
"I know. What's done is done. I hope when we meet again that you will not be so brash. Farewell, old friend" the visitor stepped back and melted into the shadows from whence he came.
"Goodbye ... Captain Price" the general breathed out. Straightening his back, the general stretched his bones and strode out towards his vehicle of choice: an M1A2 Heavy Armor Abrams tank.
Price looked back at his old friend through the portal before it closed. He knew he was disobeying Anubis. But, he had to warn General Fox. The gold furred anthropomorphic wolf knew that his friend would have done the same.
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18.35 CST
Schneider AFB
Hangar 4
Staff Sergeant James West
Radio Operator, 7th Armored Cavalry
"Say again, Panther, what is the status on our evac?" the radio operator asked in a calm and steady voice.
"Spike, we have armored units moving at high speed towards your location. I have air units enroute ETA 10 mikes out. Hold until CAS gets there" Panther replied.
"Copy that Panther, hold for ten mikes. Any more reinforcements? We're getting cut up real bad sir."
"That's a no. Unknown if any special mission units can assist as of this time, Panther out."
"I read your last five by five Panther. Spike out" S/Sgt. West affirmed that he got the orders right. The soldier swiveled on his chair as he faced towards the assembled soldiers as he called out "I got us some air. Mark targets with the SOFLAM! No use getting friendlies killed out there!"
"Nice work Spike. At least someone knows what he's doing" Cid commented from a makeshift stretcher. The SEAL was strapped to the bed as he had been thrashing about for quite some time. Whatever damage the jackal demon had inflicted left a mark.
"Spike, this is Tiger Flight. We are inbound from Edwards. Advise on possible targets, over" the radio squawked, interrupting the relative silence in the hangar.
"Tiger, this is Spike. We will be marking targets with the SOFLAM. Get ready to unleash hell. Let's start with the building across from the hangar. Target will be marked" Sgt. West answered, gesturing for a soldier to mark the target building with a laser.
"Affirmative, Spike. Target lazed. Bombs away" the fighter pilot replied as he let loose with a 1000lb. JDAM.
The building was flattened with the explosion from the JDAM. Bits and pieces of rubble rained down on the runway.
"Good hit, Tiger. Strobes are friendly, repeat strobes are friendly" the operator repeated.
"Sir, whatever is hitting us is trying the backdoor! It's been rattling real bad" another soldier interrupted.
"Can't be. There's a lot of anti-personnel mines outside of it" the sergeant remarked, slightly unhinged.
"Sir, my team and I are setting up an MG nest by the door just in case. The detonator's in my hand and ready to be squeezed"
"Understood soldier, Spike out"
And just like that, the steel reinforced door gave way with an almighty clang. The ruined door landed mere inches from the improvised casualty area. The stunned soldiers saw figures emerge from the smoke and opened fire. The first Lycan to stick his head in was killed outright. The second was mortally wounded. Still they pressed forward in the belief that sheer numbers could force the defenders into a corner.
The three man MG team kept up their fire, resorting to their pistols when the M249's barrels started to heat up. A quick-thinking soldier hopped into the copilot's seat of an AH-64 Apache gunship and opened up with the 25mm Bushmaster cannon. The 25mm rounds pierced many a Lycan before they retreated once more. The doorway had acted as a chokepoint for the attacking Lycans; their numbers were then decimated by the automatic fire from the defenders.
"Sir, we won't hold on much longer if they keep this up. How long till the armored team gets here?" Spike called out on the HF.
"No need to fret soldier, the 1st Armored is here" General Fox responded to the distressed radio operator personally.
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18.45 hours CST
1st Armored Cavalry
General Fox, C-in-C
"Sir, we won't hold on much longer if they keep this up. How long till the armored team gets here?" the general's radio squawked.
Picking up the radio microphone, the general answered "No need to fret soldier, the 1st Armored is here".
"Thank God sir. We're about to be overrun. Our position is at Hangar 4, over" the soldier replied, a mix of relief and desperation in his voice.
"We read you five by five. 1st Armored, let's go!" the general replied, switching to another frequency to communicate with his armored brigade.
Almost immediately, the tanks moved up to cover the light armored troop transports. These LAVs discharged their eight-man sticks and advanced slowly. The infantry used the tanks and other armored vehicles as cover as they slowly made their way into Schneider.
"Warlord, this is Wiley 2-0. We have reached Schneider and are preparing to evacuate the wounded survivors. Do you copy, over?" General Fox called out.
"I read you loud and clear, Wiley 2-0. Tell your men to assume all non-human personnel as hostile unless proven otherwise" Warlord replied.
"Say what?" General Fox muttered into the armored fighting compartment of the M1A2 HA Abrams tank. Aloud, he said "That's affirmative, Warlord. Wiley 2-0 out."
"Sir, we got movement ahead!" the driver called out.
"What's it look like?" the general asked, a little brusque.
"Its..." the driver remarked, his sentence cut off by a missile hit to the turret.
The ammunition in the turret bustle exploded, killing all the crew inside. General Fox had opened his cupola to check the position of one of his MBTs. When the missile hit, he was thrown 30 feet in the air and was caught by a winged Lycan. The general had both of his legs blown off by the explosion. The Lycan hugged the human close and vanished into thin air.
For both the general and his Lycan rescuer, this skirmish was over for the both of them.
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"Any station, any station. This is ODA Foxtrot, our air support just went rogue. Repeat, the support just went rogue" one of the survivors shouted into his VHF set, panic setting in.
"This is Dragon. I read you loud and clear" the long delayed over-all combat controllers made their debut.
"Dragon, this is ODA Foxtrot. Suspect it was Tiger Squadron over. They just... HOLY SHIT!!!!" the radio operator replied, his broadcast being cut short by a JDAM being dropped on his position.
"Damn!" the operator onboard Dragon swore into his communications set when the transmission was cut short.
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1900 hours CST
EA-6B Prowler "Dragon"
29, 000 feet over Schneider airspace
"Any station, any station. This is ODA Foxtrot, our air support just went rogue. Repeat, the support just went rogue" one of the survivors shouted into his VHF set, panic setting in.
"This is Dragon. I read you loud and clear" the long delayed over-all combat controllers made their debut.
"Dragon, this is ODA Foxtrot. Suspect it was Tiger Squadron over. They just... HOLY SHIT!!!!" the radio operator replied, his broadcast being cut short by a JDAM being dropped on his position.
"Damn!" the operator onboard Dragon swore into his communications set when the transmission was cut short.
Quickly switching frequencies, the operator contacted the USS Solent battle group.
"Solent, this is Dragon. We have a priority one alert. Get your fighters into the airspace as fast as you can. Tiger has gone rogue"
"Copy that, Dragon. Whisky flight just left the deck, Rum directly behind"
"This is Whisky. Understand we are OPCON to you, over?" the squadron leader of the first F/A - 18 called out as he banked left towards the Californian coast.
"Glad to have you in our corner, Whisky flight. Listen up, one squadron of Eagles from Edwards just went rogue and are strafing the rescue column. I need you to rattle their cages while we bring in some SAR birds" Dragon asked of Whisky.
"No problem. They're as good as dead" the lead pilot responded.
"This is Vandenberg; we got a couple of F-22s on the deck. Scrambling them to assist in the operation. Want a hand, Dragon?"
"This is Solent, Rum flight has left the deck. Heading your way now. ETA 1 Hotel"
"We got 'em" the radio operator on board the AWACS breathed out.
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USS Solent Task Group
USS Bainbridge
Captain Chatterson
"Sir, we just got confirmation from the Pentagon. Message is ZANZIBAR!" the PWO called out from his decryption station.
"That's affirmative cap. Task group is preparing for missile launch!" another sailor shouted from another position in the combat information center of the Arleigh Burke class destroyer.
"XO, get the missile keys from the safe and stand by for missile launch" the captain ordered.
"Aye, sir" the executive officer answered, getting his set of keys and tossing another set to the captain.
Captain Chatterson snatched the keys out of the air and placed one of them into the console. Breathing deeply, he ordered "Turn on my count. Three, two, one, NOW".
With both missile keys turned opposite to each other, the missiles inside the vertical launch system were now armed. All that was left was to input the launch codes and let the missiles fly.
"Coordinates follow: Hotel Zulu 8-5-1, Hotel X-ray 2-3-0" Warlord informed the crew.
"Copy that Warlord, coordinates set. Missiles armed and launching" Captain Chatterson replied.
On the forward deck of the destroyer, the vertical tubes containing the SS-4 Tomahawk cruise missiles opened their hatches as the rocket motors fired up and propelled their deadly cargo skyward. The rest of the warships in the area also began launching their cruise missiles towards the doomed airbase on Bainbridge's cue.
WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP!
"Sir, proximity alert! Fast movers! Range: 1000 meters and closing" the PWO in charge of the radar called out in alarm.
"Who is it? Whisky?" Captain Chatterson called out.
"Negative. Whoever they are, they're not squawking" the PWO responded, frantic.
"Broadcast an area message. Tell them to declare their intentions or be fired upon" Chatterson responded. "Also, get me the Solent. They need to put a CAS up or we'll get blown to bits"
"HOLY...!" the operator called out as a missile struck the Ardent on their starboard side. The Type 42 destroyer was a smoking wreck as she sat dead in the water. Her superstructure was destroyed.
The air lit up with tracers from the Phalanx CIWS mounted on most of the warships. These were joined with .50 caliber tracers from pintle mounts and the deadly 5" DP guns on the Arleigh Burke-class destroyers. They were putting up a desperate fight against an unseen enemy who could only be spotted on radar. The battlegroup began evasive maneuvers to avoid a repeat of the Ardent. The massive Nimitz-class supercarrier swung hard to port and nearly collided with Salt Lake City, who only just got away.
Up on the island of the Solent, the crew was scanning the water for any surface threats as the radar went strangely blank. There was a loud banging sound that reverberated throughout the ship, before a brilliant blue light sliced the ship almost in half.
Below decks, water began to flood what was left of the hangar bay. The catapult room went dark as the power was cut and seawater began to flood the place. Large numbers of sailors drowned as watertight doors shut behind them. The bow of the Solent rolled upside-down and sank quickly, the number 88 being just made out.
The stern held out for longer, trapping more air pockets as it did. The island broke off from the aft superstructure and dropped into the sea. The crew was able to evacuate whatever posts they had held before seawater overwhelmed their areas. Sailors, some badly burnt, made a leap into the cold Pacific.
As more and more carrier personnel took to the water, the maneuvering destroyers stopped evasive actions long enough to pick up the survivors. HMS Victorious was not cut in two and had made full steam for NAS San Diego. Her captain had lost his nerve and abandoned the rest of the battlegroup to their doom.
From high above the task force, the demigod Anubis grinned. The power contained within the gauntlet had performed wonderfully. One of the carriers had gone under and the other fled. It was a shame though, that only one charge could be used at a time. The downtime of the weapon was two and a half hours before another charge could be used. Still, he had proven to the humans that there was a higher power at work.
Unable to contain himself, the demigod gave a bone-chilling laugh. Personnel not involved in rescue or tracking the source of the energy shook to their very core.
On to Phase 2, he thought to himself as he vanished.