Against the Tide Imperial: The Struggle for Ceylon (The Usurper's War: An Alternative World War II B by James Young (story reading txt) 📕

“No, there was a Lieutenant Read off of the Massachusetts,” Longstreet replied. “Would have been from the Atlantic Fleet.”

Patricia felt a sense of relief as Jo reached over and gripped her hand. Patricia squished her friend’s hand back, then looked over when Jo jerked in surprise.

“You didn’t get all the peanut butter,” Jo observed with a relieved smile. She licked her hand, causing Patricia to start giggling. Longstreet looked at the two of them, but was stopped from asking any questions by Commander Tannehill poking his head in the door.

“Miss Cobb, Miss Morton, you are released for the day,” Tannehill said. “Don’t worry, you will get your full pay. Gunny Longstreet, let’s take a walk.”

Patricia turned to look at Jo for a moment, then started gathering her things as the two men left.

“What do you think is going on?” she asked.

“Who knows?” Jo replied. “I’m just glad that everyone is safe.”

U.S.S. Houston

300 Miles North of American Samoa

1655 Local (2234 Eastern)

29 August (29 August)

"General quarters! General quarters!" The Houston's intercom crackled, causing Jacob to jerk upright at his desk. "All hands, man your battle stations! Direction of travel is forward to starboard, aft to port! Possible surface action!"

Surface action? Dammit XO, this is not the time to call a drill.

Looking down, he cursed, the smudge of ink marring an otherwise perfect line on the heavy cruiser's stationery.

Well, guess I'll be starting that letter to Mrs. Gooding again whenever I get back here. He grabbed his helmet and buckled it as he headed for the hatch leading out of his day cabin to the bridge.

"Report," he said resignedly before realizing Commander Sloan was standing behind the helmsman, not the Officer of the Deck.

That means it's not a drill.

Jacob felt a rush of adrenaline.

"Smoke, sir," Sloan said, pointing as Jacob grabbed his own binoculars from the captain's chair. "I left orders for the OOD to notify me before we bothered you, given what you were doing, but the lookouts also swear they saw an aircraft low on the horizon as well."

That's not good.

Jacob glanced at his watch, then studied the horizon.

No, that's not good at all.

It was far too late for any long range patrol aircraft from Samoa to be this far out given how close it was to sunset.

"Good call XO," Jacob said. "Did radar pick anything up?"

"No captain," Sloan said. "I've doubled the sky lookouts aft though."

"Best get back there to Battle Two to supervise them, I suppose," Jacob said with a grim nod.

Not that if there's an enemy aircraft we're going to be able to do much. Given we had to leave all the new shells back in Sydney for ships not allegedly heading to safer waters.

After her emergency repairs, the Houston had arrived in American Samoa a little under a week after departing Sydney. Jacob had personally delivered the sealed orders from Admiral Hart to Rear Admiral Giffen, American Samoa’s current commander. After reading them, Rear Admiral Giffen had commandeered the Houston for an important mission: Figure out what happened to the U.S.S. Trenton.

"Sir, signal from the Pillsbury," the bridge talker said. "Do you see smoke bearing oh seven oh true?"

Jacob kicked himself mentally.

Have to remember I've got a second vessel with us.

"Respond in the affirmative, bring us around to course oh five oh true, then tell the Pillsbury to assume line ahead formation," Jacob ordered.

Not so sure sending an elderly destroyer and a damaged heavy cruiser out to find whatever ate a light cruiser whole is the best plan. Alas, that's why he's Rear Admiral Giffen and I'm Captain Morton.

The Houston's propulsion plant had received some hasty repairs and her hull was patched. Still, the best the cruiser could do was twenty-two knots as opposed to her designed thirty-three.

"Sir, I must protest the safety of this transport," Commander Farmer observed drily as he stepped onto the bridge. "I was led to believe that this would be an uneventful transit to Hawaii, yet here we are going to action stations in the middle of the South Pacific."

Jacob favored Farmer with a smile. Initially, the powers that be had determined that the Commonwealth officer should be assigned ashore due to his brother's death.Jacob's action report to Admiral Hart had emphasized the utility of having a Commonwealth officer aboard and formally requested Farmer's retention.

Apparently I was persuasive. Or else he's now considered a deserter and might end up getting shot when we reach Pearl Harbor.

Jacob was glad to have the officer back aboard, even if the thick cast on the British officer's arm joined Jacob’s stitches as reminders of their time in the Indian Ocean.

Plenty of time to heal on the way to Pearl. It's going to be a long haul, especially with this detour.

"It's not too late for you to be assigned as the Commonwealth liaison to American Samoa," Jacob replied. "We're getting close to where the Pillsbury has to turn around anyway."

Farmer drew back in mock horror.

"Is it an American Navy custom to throw an officer from the frying pan into the fire?" he asked. "I mean, yes she survived the unpleasantness in the Indies, but the Pillsbury is only a safe haven when compared to a rowboat."

Jacob raised an eyebrow.

"I'm pretty sure Lieutenant Commander Moran would have no mercy on you for that comment," Jacob replied. "Knew him when he was a plebe and I was a firstie. He boxed intramurals. Quite the wild man."

Farmer raised up his left arm.

"I've got a bloody club, Captain," he said, drawing a chuckle from the rest of the bridge crew.

"Sir, radar has two contacts, bearing oh two zero, range twenty-eight thousand yards," the bridge talker reported, then paused as the lookouts called out basically the same information.

Good to know sharp eyes beats the new fangled technology on a clear day still.

Jacob looked at the low cloud cover.

Well, mostly clear day.

"We're a little east of the usual shipping lanes, aren't we?" Commander Farmer asked after glancing at the map. "That is,