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

least had the good fortune of not having ordnance strewn about her hangar decks to create secondary explosions. Indeed, despite the spectacular, fiery destruction imparted by the destruction of Isoro's wingmen and the three Zeroes below deck, the possibility of salvage existed through four of the big half-ton bomb hits. It was the last bomb, fuzed for maximum penetration, that ended Soryu's career. Detonating just above the carrier's fire main, the blast immediately dropped the pressure to the fire hoses and sprinklers. With blazes being fed by perforated avgas lines on the hangar deck, the carrier began the rapid process of transforming from man-of-war to crematorium.

There you are, Isoro thought angrily, sighting the Dauntless that had attempted to shoot him down. Noting several more of the American dive bombers making their exit, he made sure none were in range while accelerating ahead of his prey. Zooming upwards, Isoro killed his speed then dived to come around in a high beam run. The dive bomber's tail gunner swiveled his twin machine guns towards the attacking bomber, but his burst went wide even as the Shiden's did not. Flame blossomed at the Dauntless's port wing root as Isoro pulled up and over the descending dive bomber

He is finished.

Isoro glanced back to confirm its destruction…then immediately snap-rolled to starboard as an American fighter and his wingman tried to kill him.

Ah, new Grummans.

Both fighters rushed past Isoro as the Shiden arced away from them. Isoro traded some altitude for speed as he increased the separation. A saner man would have run, but Isoro felt nothing but rage towards the Americans at the moment. The Grummans, for their part, whipped around in a tight turn that bled off their airspeed as they reversed.

Today is a good day to die if it comes to that.

Isoro’s face broke into a feral smile as he craned his neck to watch the two enemy fighters. As they finished their turn, Isoro went into a split-S to reverse his own direction, then chose an angle that would bring him into a head on run with the American leader from just above the same level. As the two fighters hurtled towards one another, Isoro saw the Grumman's nose start to come up.

Too late for you.

Isoro squeezed his trigger, the Shiden shuddering from his bust. The American responded just as Isoro's fire raked the Grumman's fuselage. There were several loud impacts on Isoro’s wing as he passed both Americans, but a quick glance told Isoro the damage was minimal. Another glance behind him showed only one Grumman that was running away at full speed and a crash site.

Now where was I? Isoro thought, blood rushing in his ears as he did a quick scan upwards and around his fighter. A glance at his fuel gauge gave him pause, the needle pointing at 75 percent.

Those idiots didn't fully fuel my fighter!

Slamming his hand against his canopy rail in frustration, Isoro began cursing the men on the hangar deck…until he had a sobering realization.

If they had fueled me fully, I would have probably still been on deck when the dive bombers arrived. Like my men were.

He looked at the burning Soryu. The carrier was slowly drifting to a halt and obviously in distress. As Isoro watched, another eruption of flame burst from her amidships, splashing onto the destroyer attempting to come alongside.

"All fighters, all fighters, immediately return to the Kido Butai by order of Vice Admiral Yamaguchi," his radio crackled. "Fly bearing oh eight oh true to be met by a navigation craft."

Hope there aren't more Americans coming. Otherwise that order is condemning every individual aboard that cruiser and the two DDs to die.

He watched as the Agano cut a circle around the burning Soryu.

Once more looking around to make sure an American was not lurking to jump him, Isoro began heading out in the proscribed direction. As he began his journey, he looked back and saw a Shiden ditching next to the Agano.

Must have been low on fuel. He did his own quick calculations.

Half my fuel should get me to the task force with plenty of time to spare. I don't want to be here if there is another strike.

U.S.S. Houston

1515 Local (0705 Eastern)

Goddammit these stitches still hurt, Jacob thought, clenching and unclenching his bandaged left hand. Houston’s skipper caught himself once more attempting to shift his new steel pot off swollen knot on his head as the XO gave him an assessment of the Houston's damage.

"Sir, if I'm totally honest, Lieutenant Commander Sheldon thinks he can give you eighteen knots easy, twenty in a pinch," Commander Sloan said, speaking of Houston's engineering officer. The XO paused to wipe his face with a handkerchief.

"But if Vice Admiral Godfrey is wanting someone to go hunt that light cruiser and the two DDs that are standing by that burning carrier, we'd have trouble catching anything besides the flu right now," Sloan finished grimly.

Jacob pursed his lips, turning to look over at where the Repulse was also limping along behind the damaged Massachusetts. The signal from the British battlecruiser had led to a flurry of assessments among the task force. With both the Massachusetts and Repulse clearly worse for wear, Vice Admiral Godfrey was stuck on the horns of a dilemma.

Have to send a strong enough force to overwhelm that light cruiser, but not so strong to overly thin the escort if the Japanese come back.

Jacob tried to put himself in the Japanese cruiser captain’s shoes.

However, I don't care what the Baltimore's pilot said, there's no way that cruiser is still going to be there in the over six hours it would take us to get there. Sucks for the men who are about to drown or be shark food, but have to save his own vessel.

"Signal the Repulse that we can make only eighteen knots," Jacob ordered. "As much as I'd like to beat up on a couple of destroyers and a light cruiser, I'd also like to make some more repairs before that