A Great and Terrible Thing
The crew of the Nathan James finds some new friends ... and some new enemies.
[Author's note: This story takes place before the beginning of Season 3, when the Nathan James is on its way to Vietnam.]
Mike Slattery, Captain of the US Navy ship Nathan James, shifted in his seat on the bridge. He told himself that he should feel proud to be in charge of one of the few warships left in the world. But when he looked at the other command seat on the bridge – empty now – he did not feel proud. He merely felt uncertain.
But he remembered what Captain Chandler had said in their last meeting: "Being the commander of an American ship of war is a great and terrible thing. Everyone expects you to know everything all the time. To always have a plan, always know where you are going, always be the man with the answers. You cannot let on that you might be uncertain, afraid, and full of doubt."
"That's easy for you to say," Slattery had replied. "You always knew what you were doing. Even when things were at their worst. You always knew."
And Chandler had just smiled.
As XO, Slattery had been in charge of the ship a number of times. But it had always been because Chandler was somewhere else, and would take over command on his return.
This was different. Now it was Slattery who was called Captain. A great and terrible thing. And now they were on their way to Vietnam, with a cargo of Cure.
"Status," he said. Another Chandler lesson: when in doubt, ask for a status update.
"The eastern coast of Taiwan coming into sight," said Gator, at the navigation post. "No sign of activity. Helo is continuing its forward sweep, no sign of anything, not so much as a fishing boat. That's a bit odd around here. The last satellite images, three weeks ago, picked up a couple of them."
"What do we know about the situation on Taiwan?" said Lieutenant Granderson. "Have they requested the Cure?"
"No communication with the US at all since the first outbreak," said Slattery. "But we know that this part of the world was, shall we say, extremely volatile at that time. Nukes flying, warlords rising and falling, no-one really in charge. Things have stabilised, but only because of Peng setting up his new capital in Hong Kong. Upside and downside. But at the moment, not our business."
Granderson was checking her radar. "Incoming bogey," she said. "From the mainland, I think. But slow, far too slow for a missile and even too slow for any sort of military plane."
Slattery lifted his binoculars, as did several others of the bridge crew. "Ready weapons," he said. "Just in case." The 'battle stations' klaxon sounded.
They could see that the bogey was some sort of aircraft now. But it was all over the place, swerving and dipping.
Grayndler was on the intercom link with Fire Control. "They are having difficulty establishing a lock," she said. "It's ... erratic."
"You can say that again," said CMC Jeter, staring at the object.
"That's either the best pilot I've ever seen," said Gator. "Or the worst."
The craft was close enough now to be made out.
"Is that ... a bi-plane?" said Granderson. "One of those ones made out of canvas and held together with duct tape?"
"I believe so," said Jeter. "The last time I saw something like that, it was dusting crops."
The little plane was coming towards them now, its engine stuttering but still in line with them.
"That thing may be a museum piece," said Slattery, "but that's a strafing run."
The little plane was going to go over them, bow to stern. It fired, from a machine gun attached to the upper wing. Bullets bounced off the armour of the Nathan James.
"What the hell?" said Jeter. "He's really attacking a US missile destroyer with a popgun?"
"Still can't get a lock," said Granderson, "but Mister Miller on the fifty-cal crew say they can bring it down by sight."
"Could probably bring it down with a well-aimed rock," said Gator. "If it doesn't fall down by itself first."
The plane was circling them now. It had stopped firing.
"What's he doing?" said Jeter.
"He's looking at our flag," said Slattery. "Tell the fifty team to hold fire."
"What's that insignia on the side?" said Granderson. "Looks like it's hand-painted. White star on blue ground."
"That," said Slattery, "is the insignia of the air force of the Republic of Taiwan. Or an attempt at it, at least."
The plane flew past the bridge. The pilot, in goggles and a scarf, was waving his arms. He was pointing towards the mainland.
"I would guess that he either wants us to go that way or is saying he will accept our surrender," said Jeter.
"Let's assume the first one," said Slattery. "Mister Gator, plot a course to follow our friend. And call the helo back."
The rib pulled onto the beach and Slattery, Grayndler, Jeter, Danny Green and Carlton Burk climbed out. Slattery looked back to the Nathan James, anchored a kilometre offshore, with Cameron Burk in temporary command.
He wondered if he was doing the right thing, coming ashore to an unknown situation and leaving an untested officer in command.
Everyone expects you to have a plan, Chandler had said.
He looked around. What now?
He saw a path leading into the jungle from the beach, heading generally in the direction that Gator had calculated as the origin of the plane.
"That way," he said. "Stay sharp. Mister Burt, how is your Cantonese?"
Burt held up a copy of the book, Cantonese for Travellers. "I'll do my best if the need arises," he said.
The path took them to an overgrown road. They could see a thin plume of smoke, a kilometre away.
They rounded a bend – and came-to-face with a group of people. They held guns, although they were old and battered.
The two groups, weapons up, stared at each other. Long seconds passed.
"Mister Burt, say hello," said Slattery.
Burt leafed through his book. He said a few phrases in Cantonese.
The Taiwanese group stared at him. Then they burst out laughing.
"That went well, I thought," said Green.
"Hey, I said that I would do my best," said Burt.
Slattery slung his weapon. He saw that one of the Taiwanese was the pilot of the biplane. He was still wearing his goggles, pushed up to the top his head. Guy looked like he was about sixteen. "You," he said. "You fired at us. I'd like to know why."
A woman stepped forward. "I ... I ... I am Liu," she said. " Lead ... leader ... here. Sorry, my English ... is from ... long ... ago. You ... are American?"
"We are," said Slattery. "And your English is better than our Cantonese."
Liu gestured at the pilot. "He is sorry," she said. "He ... did not know. Thought you were ... I do not know word ... bad men ... in a ship ... robbers – "
"Pirates?" suggested Jeter.
"Ah yes. Pirates. Like Jack Sparrow. But bad."
"We have the Cure," said Slattery. "To the Red Flu. Do you need it?"
"Cure?" said Liu. "What is that?"
"Long story," said Slattery.
"Then you must come," said Liu. "To where we live. You explain. And eat."
The village of Shihcheng, a collection of huts clustered around a building that had once been a railway station, had about a hundred people, Slattery estimated. They clearly did not have much but they were willing to share what they had in a meal. The sailors added the rations they carried to the menu, giving chocolate bars to the kids. Slattery asked Liu to tell the story of the settlement.
She explained that in the early days of the plague the government in Taipei had done its best to quarantine the island. It had been partially successful, restricting the Red Flu to the southern areas. And then boats from the mainland had begun to arrive. First a trickle, then a flood. There was no way to say who was infected and who was not. And all the while relations between Taipei and Beijing – when there was still a Beijing – deteriorated. Eventually, the mainland government demanded complete access to the island – ironically, to re-establish the government.
The Taipei government, under immense pressure from the refugees, refused. And then the nukes began to fall. Every major city on the western side of the island got one. Beijing continued to make demands – and then fell silent. It was gone. No-one really knew how.
Liu, who had lived in a small town south of Taipei, gathered whatever survivors she could find and they set out for the eastern side of the island. At first they had a ragtag collection of vehicles, and they got as far as Shihcheng, moving along the highway that ran along the coast. And then there was a flash of light high up in the air and all the vehicles – in fact, nearly all machines – stopped working. Electro-magnetic pulse. One of the few things still working was the little biplane that had joined them – the pilot's name was Chia-ming, and he had explained he was still learning how to fly. It had no chips and minimal electricals, so it had escaped the effects of the EMP.
Since then, they had tried to survive, drawing on existing stocks of food and trying to grow crops. They had also had a few fishing boats, but they had disappeared two days ago.
"We are concerned that pirates found them," said Liu. "There are many around at sea, and on land. Some came here a while ago. They wanted ... women. To ... use ... and then sell. Very bad men."
"What happened to them?" said Slattery.
Liu pointed towards the edge of the settlement, where there was a row of graves.
"Good thing you have weapons," said Green.
"Guns, but no bullets," said Liu. "That ... was our last."
"Wait a minute," said Jeter. "You were facing us down with empty guns?"
Liu shrugged.
"Balls," muttered Granderson.
"We might be able to provide some assistance," said Slattery. "We might be able to repair your vehicles, our ship probably has suitable equipment. And we should be able to spare some guns and ammunition. Some food as well."
Liu translated for the others. "Why would you do this?" she said eventually. "What do you want in return, Captain Slattery?"
He thought for a few moments before answering. "We appreciate courage," he said. "We appreciate people who have picked up the pieces of the old world and built something new with them. We cannot stay, our mission is to deliver the Cure to Vietnam. But we will do what we can."
Liu stared at him. Then she smiled. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
Liu was guiding Slattery around the camp. She was showing him one of their working vehicles – and ancient, rusting motorbike – when he received a radio message from the Nathan James.
"Radar contact at the edge of range," said Burk. "Did not respond to hails and is not emitting any signals, not even nav. We sent up the helo but no joy. We think it might have pulled into a bay, there's plenty of them, and plenty of tree cover. The UAV is currently undergoing scheduled maintenance. We didn't think we would need it. I've told the maintenance crew to get it done asap."
"Any idea on type? Origin?"
"Best guess is a gunboat of the Chinese navy, but the lack of response suggests that it might no longer be obeying central command. Either taken over by pirates or gone rogue. They probably saw us as well."
Slattery considered. "Keep me informed," he said. "And send the Doc with a batch of Cure." He signed off.
Slattery called his team together and briefed them. "It's possible that these pirates know this camp is here," he said. "If they took the fishing boats they would have that information. Master Chief, organise some weapons to be brought over from the Nathan James, show people here how to use them. Mister Green, Mister Burk, set up a perimeter patrol. Ms Granderson, assist the Doc with distributing the Cure."
Jeter, Green and Burk set about their tasks, but Granderson hung back. "Permission to speak freely," she said to Slattery.
Uh-oh, thought Slattery. That's always a bad sign. But he said: "Of course, Lieutenant."
She nodded towards Liu. "That woman," she said. "She's making a pass at you."
Slattery started a little. "And what makes you think that, Lieutenant?" he said.
"She has prettied herself up and is wearing a red comb in her hair," said Granderson. "And, sir ... I know these things. I can tell."
"Because you're a woman?"
"No sir. Because I like women. Made a few passes myself in my time."
Liu saw Slattery looking at her. She smiled at him.
"No-one on the Nathan James would begrudge you a little R&R time," said Granderson. "And you are both leaders. I assume that ... reduces the options. For company."
"Lieutenant, I am the captain of the US ship of war."
"I am quite aware of that, sir. I'm ... just saying." She saluted, and then went to help Doctor Rios set up his vaccination station.
Slattery looked again at Liu. Yes, she was attractive. Especially given the circumstances.
Been a while.
Something scratched at the back of his head. An instinct. Was there ... something? What?
It was a noise, the sound of an engine, coming closer.
He snapped on his radio. "Vulture team, form up on me!" he shouted. "Contact imminent!" He hefted his own gun and flicked the safety off.
Then a vehicle burst into the settlement. Slattery recognised it as a Chinese knock-off of a US amphibious jeep, the size of a HumVee. But the people in it were not Chinese military.
Pirates. Not the Jack Sparrow sort.
The pirates were clearly stunned to see him and the others – with heavy guns – but they did not stop. The jeep came straight at him. He fired a burst and leaped aside.
The pirates in the jeep were leaning out and firing in all directions, shouting.
No discipline, no organisation, thought Slattery. Good. For us.
Green was shooting from one side and Burk from the other. The pirates realised that were up against people far tougher than unarmed villagers. The vehicle turned and started back the way it had come. One of the pirates threw two canisters. Smoke grenades.
When it cleared, the vehicle was gone. Slattery's team sounded off: no wounds.
"Liu, any of your people hurt?" said Slattery.
Nothing. One of the other villagers gestured.
She had been taken.
"Not good," muttered Granderson. "Very not good."
"Do we pursue?" said Green.
"Pointless, on foot," said Slattery. "They'll be back on their boat before we got halfway."
And then he saw the motorbike. He slung his rifle and straddled the bike.
"You ridden one of these before?" said Burk.
Not for a while, he thought. Like twenty-five years. "Of course," he said to the others.
"That bike will take two," said Green.
"No, I'll need the space to bring her back," said Slattery. He inspected the bike's controls. It was certainly old, the type you had to start with a foot-lever.
He rammed the lever down.
Nothing more than a cough.
Again.
R – r – r ... and then nothing.
"Third time's a charm," he muttered. He tried again.
The engine spluttered, stammered, spluttered again ... and then caught.
He was off, following the jeep.
The pirates had turned off the road and onto a jungle track. Now they were on a beach, their gunboat not far away. They pushed Liu out of the vehicle. The jeep drove into the water and then up a ramp on the back of the boat.
"Only one," said the guy who seemed to be the leader. "Those soldiers ... Americans, I think. Well, they will not stay. And then we can go back and get the others. Take anyone worth something, kill the rest."
"In the meantime, we should ensure that this one was worth the effort," said another of them. He began to unfasten his belt. Several other men did so as well. Then one of them stopped.
He started to say: "What's that noi – "
And then fell back, dead, a bullet in his head.
Slattery, on the bike, burst onto the beach, gun up and firing. The pirates scattered.
He brought the bike to a halt next to Liu. In a moment, she was on the back.
But now the pirates were firing at them. Slattery felt the bike shudder with the impact of several bullets.
They made it back to the road. But he could hear the jeep coming after them.
The bike's engine was beginning to stutter. Slattery guessed that a fuel line had been hit. He glanced back: the jeep was on the road now, and coming on fast, a half-dozen pirates in it.
The bike's engine faded. Slattery and Liu dismounted. He looked around: any feasible cover was a long way off. They wouldn't make it.
He unslung his rifle, checked the clip. He handed his pistol to Liu. She took it. "You might want to think about what to do with the last bullet," he said.
She nodded. "Thank you, Captain Slattery."
"It's Mike."
"Qing-Xiang." Then, suddenly, she kissed him. And he kissed back.
But the pirates were still coming.
Not much chance, Slattery thought. Funny way for things to end.
Suddenly, from above, there was the sound of an engine. It was the biplane. It passed over them and landed on the road, a hundred metres away. Chia-ming waved for them to run. They did.
But the plane was a single-seater.
Chia-ming gestured for them to lie on the lower wing, and hold onto the leading edge.
"Hell of a way to fly, especially with a pilot not old enough to shave," muttered Slattery. But he grabbed on, and Liu got on the other side.
The pirates were closing, and bullets were starting to zip around the plane.
"Whenever you're ready," said Slattery.
The plane began to move, taxi-ing along the road. But clearly Chia-ming was not used to flying with extra weight. The plane picked up speed, and clawed its way into the air – and then fell back down to the asphalt.
Chen-Jui lowered the speed, and then increased it again.
"Would it help if I flapped my arms?" called Slattery. He heard Liu laugh.
Chen-Jui hauled back on the stick – and this time the little plane bounced into the air, and stayed there. It turned towards the settlement.
"And this," Slattery muttered into the slipstream, "is why I didn't join the air force."
They made it back safely. Slattery activated his radio. "Mister Burk, is the UAV in the air?" he said.
"Yes sir, and we have acquired the target. Gunboat with amphibious vehicle. Not associated with the Chinese navy, or any other."
"Then dust 'em," said Slattery.
Over the sound of the radio, there was the sound of a missile firing.
The Cure administered and the supplies delivered, the crew of the Nathan James were ready to leave the settlement.
Liu led Slattery a bit away from the others. "You are welcome to stay a bit longer," she said. "Mike."
"I am sorry, Qing-Xiang," he said. "But I am leader of the crew of a US naval vessel. In that job, you don't get to be human."
Qing-Xiang nodded. "I understand," she said. She sighed. "Leadership ... is a ... is a ... what is the word?"
"A bitch. Leadership is a bitch."
She nodded again. "Yes," she said softly. "It is."
Then he turned and walked down the beach to the rib that would take him back to his command.
"Yeah," he murmured to himself. "A great and terrible thing. It's a bitch."
END