Sakura Wars: The 21st Century
By Steve Edward
The Return
Chapter 2
"Excuse me Admiral, the message that you have been expecting has arrived sir," stated Staff Sergeant Bloomberg as she approached him from his right side. Admiral John Long; still momentarily lost in thought did not acknowledge her presence until she stepped slightly forward of him and into his side vision, her impeccable crisp Marine Blues its leather accruements reflecting the increasing light of the day.
"Thank you Teresa," he stated simply and with one last look at the U.S.S. Wisconsin BB-64, the moistness of the dew on the superstructure of the ship beginning to reflect the increased morning light of a new day, the light reflecting and scattering about the ship made it appear to be coated in diamonds.
He pivoted sharply and walked toward the Suburban, Staff Sergeant Bloomberg already back at the door, and he briefly wondered how she managed to get to the SUV ahead of him. He viewed his Amazon protector, body guard, personal assistant and secretary not only as a subordinate but also a dear and close friend. Teresa smartly opened the door at the precise moment when she needed to for him to ease into the not so ordinary Suburban which softly rumbled with additional horsepower and a lot of extras not found in the ordinary Suburban's available at most dealers.
Her charge now safely ensconced in the rear seat, Staff Sergeant Bloomberg took one last look around, glancing briefly at both the U.S.S. Enterprise and the U.S.S. John F. Kennedy and with a low and confident voice; transmitted to watchers on both ships that her package was safe inside the vehicle and dismissed the additional security personal with curt thank you's.
Hearing the brief clicks of acknowledgements in her ear from her fellow Marines stationed on those massive ships, Staff Sergeant Bloomberg's feminine and combat tested frame slid-in with confidence to the driver seat and with her charge reading the important message her foot pressed firmly to the floor board of black Suburban, the muted rumble of the heavily modified 450 horse power Dura-Max Diesel truck engine sprang forth as vehicle moved down the pier towards the security gate and the exit to the rest of the base.
The message the Admiral was reading was acknowledging delivery by courier to numerous personnel both in Norfolk proper and other far flung locations. John glanced out the window as Staff Sergeant Bloomberg steered the mammoth Suburban onto Hampton Boulevard and towards his temporary headquarters.
He sat back and relaxed briefly, the leather seat enveloping his body softly; the Suburban's suspension soaking up any road perfections it seemed to be gliding on air.
He pondered his next upcoming situation, one that was going to be the most difficult part. The risks were very high; there was a good chance of being killed and even not arriving in the proper era. He could live with arriving 3 months early, but any date later than the historically reported date of June 30, 1927 disbandment; was fraught with error and it would be difficult if not impossible to locate the members of the famed Imperial Combat Troop; because that was the date that they literally and figuratively had disappeared from the face of the earth.
The Black Suburban passing through the checkpoint on this now sunny but cold Sunday came to a stop at a nondescript building, the sign out front describing who was there. Task Group Rose Headquarters Admiral John Long Commanding; it stated simply in military parlance.
Staff Sergeant Bloomberg, stood ready at the right side of the Suburban and as the Admiral exited she quickly stepped ahead of him and was already ahead and to the left of him as they approached the building.
Behind them another Marine had already entered the Suburban and it moved off towards the back of the building where earlier; the personal belongings of the Admiral were brought to be loaded into the vehicle. Having called this building home for nearly two and half years, the Admiral did not attach much sentiment to it. His real home was sitting at anchor, but not for much longer as the U.S.S. Wisconsin BB-64 too also prepared to leave.
Entering the foyer and acknowledging the crisp salutes of both Marines and Sailors on station in the lobby he proceeded to the waiting elevator where a Radioman 2nd Class stood with a message clipboard. Accepting it, the Admiral along with the Radioman and Staff Sergeant Bloomberg rode to the 2nd floor. Exiting he turned left with Staff Sergeant Bloomberg following close by. The Radioman 2nd Class also following but further away. After reading the messages, he initialed the track sheet and returned it to the Radioman who turned away and entered a nearby hallway. The muted sounds of teletype equipment could be heard as the secured door was opened by a Marine who had received the key card from the Radioman.
.
Staff Sergeant Bloomberg crossed the outer office to the main door of the Admiral's office. Opening his door; she scanned the interior, everything in place as she had left it not just 6 hours before. Admiral Long entered the office close behind her as she headed towards the small galley off from the office. There in the small but well equipped galley she prepared the last cup of coffee that would be brewed here.
Bringing the vacuum pump pitcher of coffee to a nearby table, Staff Sergeant Bloomberg looked into the vacant office of the Chief of Staff Captain Frank Orkney; now in Nevada he was putting the finishing touches on the next part of the Admiral's plan.
Nevada, why did it bother her so that they were going there? John; whom she had pulled from burning seas nearly three years earlier; by rite should have perished when the U.S.S. Doyle FFG-39 exploded after he had set the self-destruct charges off on the missile launcher.
Teresa who had been standing on the nearby shore, not to see the Frigate Doyle but the grand ocean liner Queen Mary 2, as it returned to New York. Her mother onboard having taken a all expense paid trip to Great Britain on the grand ship, watched in shock as what became known as a Sea Wraith attempted to attack the Queen Mary 2. Then out of nowhere racing to attack the creature came the U.S.S. Doyle FFG-39.
It had managed to distract the creature from the Queen Mary 2 which did a 180 degree turn where it raced out to sea away from danger leaving the Doyle to confront the Wraith alone.
In the ensuing battle that raged for nearly 25 minutes, at one point nearly into the main harbor and back out again; the two antagonists fought each other. The small 76 MM main gun of the frigate barking its rage could do little; the explosive power not strong enough, the effect of shooting the creature was just to make it madder.
An apparent mechanical malfunction prevented any missiles from being loaded on the launch rail of the missile launcher and as such Teresa witnesses the frigate come to a stop and its crew scurrying to life rafts. Using borrowed binoculars she watched as crewmen rig the missile launcher with explosives and then they too leave the ship.
From her vantage point she sees a lone man on the bridge as the frigate turns towards the Sea Wraith opening up the distance between the crew in the water and the ship itself.
An indescribable force of energy is emitted by the creature at the now doomed frigate and it hits just above the bridge, shearing off not only the signal bridge; but the mast, sending it crashing onto the superstructure.
Amazingly the lone man, emerging from the now wrecked bridge has aimed the ship correctly and he prepares to leap clear seems to stare towards her, but in awe of history being made in front of her she pays little attention to him and instead watches as the frigate rams at nearly full speed into the sea wraith and explodes.
Staring in shock at the sight of the exploding ship, she catches a brief glimpse of the man who had been on the bridge. In the water now surrounded by flames his body is gradually sinking. Without thought or concern Teresa hurriedly scans the nearby docks and sees a ski boat.
Running to the craft, she commanders it; tossing the owner overboard as she has no time to explain what she has to do. Picking out her target she races to where she had last seen the man floating and sending the ski boat through a wall of fire to get to him she catches a glimpse of him as he sinks from sight.
Stopping the engines, she dives into the bubbles of where he sank, the sea salt stinging her eyes, mixed with that of JP-4 fuel from the wrecked frigate making her vision difficult at best when she flailing about with her hands; catches the shirt of the man. Now kicking with all her strength; she desperately heads back to the surface, dragging the man with her.
Amazingly the ski boat is still nearby, though scorched from the burning fuel it is operational. She swims to the rear platform and drags her charge onboard, it is only then she discovered whom she had rescued. Rear Admiral John Long.
He was not breathing. Staff Sergeant Bloomberg performed CPR on the back of a tossing ski boat, and brought him back. It was tough going in the week ahead; as the Rear Admiral was medivaced by helicopter initially to a local hospital then by air ambulance to Maryland, suffering burns and other injuries nearly succumbed to pneumonia.
Now three years later, Teresa stirring the sweetener into the Admiral's battered coffee cup turned to walk to him; instead found him at the door his blue eyes meeting hers. "What are you thinking about now Teresa?" the soft but commanding voice spoke; as his hand held out received the cup.
Staff Sergeant Bloomberg was not the least bit bashful or easily embarrassed paused to give him an answer. "About Nevada sir, is it not better for someone else to do what had to be done?" Turning and walking back to his modest oak desk he replied, "As I have said before Teresa, there is no other choice. I have to be the one. There is no time to train someone else nor would anyone else be able to fit in at least in a multilingual role that must be played out; in this mission."
Versed in Japanese, French, German, Italian, and Mandarin Chinese and of course English; the Admiral had prepared himself well for this mission. There could be no substitutions and with the problematic chain of events that would unfold, having more than one in the time line could prove disastrous.
Admiral John Long, who has learned of the time travel program at Area 51 in Nevada is concerned on what effects could happen if one was to be sent back to such a time period consults with Professor Lenny Irvin Walters. An academic who's special interest in lesser known events has helped with uncovering the history surrounding the Imperial Flower Combat Troop; Irvine develops dos and don'ts for the Admiral.
Among his recommendations is avoid under any circumstance the taking of a human life. What may seem inconsequential at that time could have adverse and detrimental effects. Professor Walters view of history where Admiral Long could encounter a person who may be a key player in some future event though how little or trivial it may seem could cause the said historical event from taking place.
In short when the Admiral; if he successfully returns to the present could return to a completely different present or not be able to return at all.
"Let there be no mistake, John"; as Professor Walters walking about a cramped office in Washington D.C., in December of 2009. "You are interacting with the past, true at some point you will have to reveal your mission and another is the fact that you hold the knowledge of future events." Pausing to reflect, he pulls down an out of print historical book. "In this book I hold the written history of the past; it is that of compressed history. No word by word blow appears within it to describe how the participants interacted with each other, only the what, when, where, how and why."
Turning to the Admiral, "John, there can be consequences of saying or mentioning the wrong thing in passing. No matter how trivial the off handed statement; I suspect the results would be the same. The person that overhears it could use it to change historical events, even so far as to prevent events that we know are devastating in our history which could prevent such an event as World War 2 from occurring." John taking it in realizes the significance of that statement. It was in June of 1943 that his father then Commander Will Long; meets his future wife Martha in San Francisco. Reflecting back Admiral John Long wonders just what history will say about him?