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

close with the suspected enemy carrier force and finish off what the air strike did not kill. However, Jacob strongly suspected their real purpose was to be so tempting a target that the Japanese split their own return strike.

Bait. We’re about to be freakin’ bait.

“The last signal from Yorktown is that she will be conducting launch operations in ten minutes,” Lieutenant Ness reported crisply. “The XO left strict instructions to go to General Quarters at that time, but no sooner.”

Which is why Commander Sloan is probably one of the best XOs this vessel has ever had. Myself included.

“Commander Sloan also left instructions to inform you we are ready in all respects for a surface action,” Lieutenant Ness stated. “Barring your countermanding orders, he has directed the main battery to load armor-piercing.”

“Well, I think that will certainly work against carriers if the flyboys get lucky and cripple one,” Jacob said.

Too bad our secondaries are loaded with those fancy new shells that were sent over from the Mauna Loa.

The new ammunition’s mechanism was apparently secret, with a the manual on its use restricted to Jacob, Commander Sloan, and Lieutenant Commander Willoughby’s eyes only. Called the “variable time” fuse, the new shells apparently used radio signals to detonate in close proximity to attacking bombers rather than at a set altitude. Only available in 5-inch shells, it was supposed to make the Houston’s secondary guns more lethal.

I’ll believe it when I see it. It also makes the shells quite useless against enemy surface vessels, so here’s to hoping we and everyone else have time to change out fuses if the enemy’s closer than we think.

“Looks like there’s a fair bit of weather developing to our east,” Commander Farmer observed as she stepped onto the Houston’s bridge. The man’s voice was calm and he appeared back to his unflappable self on a quick examination. It was only when he met Jacob’s gaze that the façade flickered for a moment.

“Indeed,” Jacob replied. “I hope the flyboys don’t get lost.”

“Well, the American flyboys, that is,” Farmer replied grimly. “If it keeps the Japanese from finding us, that’s a bonus.”

“Sir, signal from the Massachusetts,” the talker said. “Prepare to execute separation.”

“I’m not familiar with how your aircraft carriers conduct operations, sir,” Farmer stated. “What exactly are you blokes doing?”

“Usually its searchers first, then a strike at whatever they find,” Jacob replied. “But apparently your snoopers’ positions were considered accurate enough to swing at.”

“I hope the staff aren’t wrong,” Farmer replied.

“Sir, the Massachusetts is coming about,” the OOD reported, pointing. Jacob nodded, seeing the signal coming from the big battleship a few moments later.

“That tears it then,” he said, then quickly issued orders to the helm. As the Houston’s own bow swung to the new heading, he spared a glance towards the Yorktown.

There are a bunch of young men getting ready to go die aboard that flight deck. That is madness. Give me broadsides any day of the week.

“Sir! The Massachusetts reports a radar contact, bearing oh eight oh true, just at the edge of her scope.”

Jacob turned to the talker even as he tried to do the geometry in his head.

Good on the Massachusetts using a true bearing as we’re all turning in this formation.

“That’s got to be a searcher,” Farmer observed. “Which means either they launched very early this morning…”

“Or we’re even closer than we think,” Jacob replied, lips pressed in a thin line.

I need to visualize this on a map.

“Lieutenant Ness, you have the conn,” he barked after a moment. He quickly walked to the Houston’s tactical plot, Farmer close behind him. The group that had been maintaining the hasty bridge plot parted, and he looked down at the map.

“If that aircraft is coming directly from his carriers, they turned sometime in the last hour,” Jacob said after a few moments. “If he’s not on the outward leg, then we have serious problems.”

“That or the Japanese are running a ridiculously short search arc,” Farmer noted.

“Sir, the Independence is vectoring CAP towards the bogey,” the talker reported.

Jacob noted it was slowly getting lighter outside the Houston’s bridge. Even so, he did not envy the fighters attempting to find and shoot down the Japanese search aircraft.

Only good thing about that is we’re going to be hard to see before the fighters get to him. First thing he’ll see is wakes.

“What is the Yorktown doing?” he asked.

“Continuing to launch, sir,” the talker reported back after a moment. “No signals reported from her.”

“Sir, the Massachusetts is signaling twenty-five knots,” Lieutenant Ness reported.

“She’s rather fast for a large lady,” Farmer muttered.

“We’ve got places to be, looks like,” Jacob remarked, feeling the Houston’s own engines starting to grow louder. The cruiser’s deck vibrated beneath his feet as she began gathering speed.

We’re going to need a long refit after this cruise. While we haven’t taken any damage yet, we’ve been driving the old girl hard.

It was a tense twenty minutes as the CAP began to head towards the still closing contact. The swirling colors of dawn were readily apparent as the pair of F6Fs off of the Independence finally found the Japanese aircraft. Less than two minutes after that, the Japanese aircraft was falling to the Indian Ocean…just as another contact was reported.

“I think our opponents are going to figure out very fast that we’re here and what direction we are approaching,” Farmer said. “Search planes disappearing in a given area is a sure sign of enemy action.”

Only if their staff is on the ball.

The sound of several aircraft flying overhead was audible even over the Houston’s own engines. Jacob quickly walked out to the starboard bridge wing just in time to see the receding group of planes in the brightening sky.

Godspeed men, he thought, once more cognizant that he was seeing pilots heading to their own executions. It was impossible to confirm in the poor light, but a look at the paint scheme led him to believe the aircraft were the Bonhomme Richard’s. Bringing his gaze down to sea level, Jacob realized