CARRIER 10: ARSENAL By: Keith Douglass

maintenance, and capable of wreaking immediate destruction on anything

they hit. Even the oldest Soviet models were still potent weapons.

Forty minutes later, they were done. A double line of mines ten miles

long stretched out in the path of the Arsenal.

19:00 Local (+5 GMT) USS Arsenal On the forward most portion of the

weather decks. Seaman Fred Dooley took his lookout station. After a

quick discussion with the sailor already standing the watch, he

accepted the sound-powered phones, the binoculars, and the life

jacket.

At least the weather was clear, a great improvement over the previous

week. He shucked his foul-weather jacket, tossing it over the anchor

chain. He doubted that he’d need it tonight.

He turned forward and lifted the binoculars to his eyes.

The cruiser was headed west, directly toward the setting sun. It

dazzled him, and he tried to look to either side instead of gazing

directly at the sun, to use his peripheral vision to pick up shapes and

objects more clearly. Dooley was learning, just as the OOD was.

Something off to the right caught his attention, and he quickly focused

the binoculars in on it, tweaking the small focus knob to sharpen the

image. He tensed for a moment, wondering if he would be the one to

spot the only survivor of the wreck.

Being first mattered on the USS Arsenal and mattered to Dooley more

than most. Joining the Navy last year had been the best decision he’d

ever made in his short life. A job, training, a steady paycheck and a

way out of the grinding poverty of inner-city New York.

A few seconds later, Dooley’s hopes were dashed. It was merely a

dolphin frolicking with a wave, trying in some odd fashion to complete

a circle both above and below it. He watched it for a few moments

longer, trying to decide exactly what sort of game the dolphin was

playing.

Guiltily, aware that he’d let his attention be diverted by the eternal

distractions of the sea, Dooley resumed his scan, carefully examining

each area of the water in front of the ship. Another movement directly

ahead caught his attention.

A dolphin, he figured; nothing else-should be moving out there.

He squinted, trying to make the object pop into view without refocusing

the binoculars, which were set for dolphin length. The object was

still unclear. Sighing, he focused again, then stared in horror.

It couldn’t be-no, wait. He pressed the button on the sound-powered

phone that hung around his neck, his eyes still glued to the object.

“Bridge, forward lookout mine, in the water; I say again, mine, dead

ahead in the water. It’s directly in front of us.”

“He said what?” The OOD wheeled on the operations specialist manning

the sound-powered phone. “What the helm, hard right rudder. Lee helm,

starboard engine back full, port engine ahead full.”

Captain Heather shot bolt upright in his chair, hit the deck in one

motion, and was at the quartermaster’s side in a matter of seconds. He

slapped down the collision alarm toggle switch, and seconds later the

harsh buzz echoed throughout the ship. The bosun’s mate of the watch

took that as his cue, and began passing, “Stand by for collision. Mine

to port” He never had time to finish the announcement. The cruiser

heeled violently to starboard, throwing the entire bridge team across

the pilothouse. The captain hit the bulkhead just next to the hatch

leading onto the bridge wing.

The officer of the deck hurtled past him, cleared the bridge wing

railing, and was in the water before the ship had even finished its

downward motion.

The captain tried to scramble to his feet, only to discover that his

legs wouldn’t move. One of them, at least. He looked down, touched

the raw, shattered bone protruding from his pants leg in horror, then

groaned as he tried to twist around and survey the rest of the

damage.

Six feet away, the bosun’s mate of the watch was struggling to his

feet. He looked dazed, disoriented, but at least mobile. “Boats! Get

the TAO up here. Man overboard, port side.” Captain Heather struggled

to get the words out, relieved to see that the sailor appeared to

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