The Final Countdown, page 17
“The Second Carrier Division includes Soryu and Hiryu.
“The Fifth Carrier Division includes Zuikaku and Shokaku.”
Owens paused for the translation and a greater effect to allow his information to sink through the incredulity they saw. Then he went on. “The fleet also includes two battleships, two heavy cruisers, one light cruiser, nine destroyers, and three supporting vessels.”
He added one crushing blow after another. The information on the secret battle fleet was bad enough. The names of the ships was worse. The killing blow came on a personal element
“The supreme air commander of your Attack Air Group is Commander Mitsuo Fuchida. Lieutenant Akira Sakamoto will lead the dive bombers. Your own commander, who will lead the Zero-sen fighters in the first wave, is Lieutenant Commander Shigeru Itaya. The second wave of fighters will be led by Lieutenant Saburo Shindo.”
Again the pause, and the final clincher. “On the morning of the second of December, Admiral Nagumo received from Tokyo the message: Niitaka Hama Nobore.” He repeated the phrase: Climb Mount Niitaka.
Jiro Simura trembled visibly. But no less devastated by what he had heard was Senator Samuel S. Chapman, who had struggled to his feet, leaning for support against a bulkhead. “How … how in the name of God could you know all this? Who are you? What is all—”
His voice stopped. A hand shot out across the floor and closed viselike about Simura’s ankle. With a gasp of desperation, the wounded Corporal Kullman had seized what he considered his only chance, grasped Simura’s ankle, and jerked with all his strength. Laurel threw back her arm to deflect the rifle, throwing Simura off balance. The woman had enough presence of mind to throw herself flat, and the marines at the doorway, seeing Simura bringing his rifle to bear upon the wounded Kullman, reacted instinctively. Several M-16 automatic rifles thundered in the confined space, hurling pieces of Jiro Simura through the air and splashing wetly against the bulkhead.
Lasky groaned. Time was getting more elusive as events ground their way inexorably into the future.
Sam Chapman sat on the edge of the sick bay bed, a doctor examining the angry bruise along his ribs. “You’ll be all right, sir. It will hurt for a while but no ribs are broken. I think the best medicine for you right now is a medicinal brandy.” He held out a glass, and Chapman downed the brandy gratefully in a single long swallow.
“Now, doctor, will somebody, for God’s sake, get me some clothes!”
Captain Yelland stood in the doorway. “You heard the senator, doctor. I should say a size forty-two would do fine. Bring the senator a flight suit in that size. Immediately, please.”
Yelland, Thurman at his side, came up to Chapman. “Senator, my apologies for taking so long to meet you personally. I’m Captain Matthew Yelland, commanding this vessel. This is my executive officer, Dan Thurman.”
Chapman seemed a bit dazed by the introductions, but shook his head dear and clasped the hand of each man. “Captain, I don’t have time for fancy words. What this man,” he pointed to Owens, “was saying. Is it true?”
“It is, Senator.”
“How in the hell could you have determined everything down to individual ships and even the names of the pilots 1”
“It’s a very long and complicated story, Senator.* Chapman studied Yelland. “Is this some sort of game you’re playing with me?”
“I assure you, sir, there is no game*
“I haven’t got time, as I said,” Chapman went on hurriedly, “and neither have you. If all this is true, I suppose you’ve notified the proper authorities at Pearl Harbor?”
Yelland paused. He forced himself not to smile. “No, Senator, we haven’t. I don’t think they’d believe us if we told them.”
“The least you could do is try!”
“Senator, we’re tracking the Japanese battle fleet. If it appears that they really do intend to launch that attack on Pearl Harbor, we’re well equipped to disperse the attack and destroy that fleet”
Chapman looked at Yelland as if he were mad. “One carrier? One carrier against a whole fleet like this officer just described, and you can destroy it? Captain Yelland, what kind of an idiot do you take me to be, anyway?”
“Senator, there’s a lot you don’t understand—”
“I understand only too goddamned well! There’s some kind of insane plot here to maneuver the United States into a war that nobody wants, and you people—” He took a deep breath. “For the record, Captain Yelland. You are the commanding officer of this warship, and I am a senator of the United States. I request—no, damn it, I demand to be provided with the proper radio facilities to call Pearl Harbor and sound the alarm myself.”
An orderly approached with the flight suit Chapman took the few moments necessary to slip into the suit Yelland used the opportunity to keep himself cool and unruffled.
“Senator, if that’s what you want, of course we’ll bring you to the radio room. We’ll assist you in every way possible.” Dining the brief interval while Chap-man dressed, Yelland’s memory had flashed back to the history of the tragic hours preceding the attack against Pearl Harbor. He recalled the name of Joe Lockard. An army radar technician who saw strange blips on his still-new radar set and reported them to his superior officer and was officially ordered to “quit having the jitters, for Christ’s sake. It’s Sunday morning ”
You mean that? You’ll really do just what you said?” Chapman pressed.
“Absolutely, Senator. Mister Thurman, escort the senator to COMM. Set up everything he requires. I’ll be along in just a moment.”
They watched Chapman leave with Thurman. Lasky looked with amusement at Yelland. “I see you finally came to the same conclusion,” he said.
Yelland nodded. “I remembered something. It’s strange the way the past can point the way to the future. Do you remember the name Joe Lockard?”
“Yes,” Lasky said.
“Then you know what I was thinking.”
“I do.”
Owens looked at them strangely. “Begging the captain’s pardon, I wish to hell I knew what you two were—are—saying.”
“In due time, Mister Owens. It will all be very clear. You’re the historian. See if you can dredge up the name Lockard from your mental files and you’ll catch up with us very quickly. And now I suggest we join the good senator in COMM and listen to his sounding of the alarm.”
“He’s no Paul Revere,” sighed Lasky. “Did Kaufman really rig his equipment to talk directly to Pearl?”
“He did,” Yelland confirmed.
“And after Chapman makes his, ah, attempt?”
“I learn quickly, Warren. After that, one step at a time.”
Lasky nodded slowly. “Got it. Just like walking through a minefield.”
They entered the radio room to catch the end of a strange discourse between Chapman and Commander Dan Thurman. Chapman was obviously studying the executive officer with a measure of outright disbelief.
“You’ve been in the navy how longP”
“Sixteen years, sir.”
“And you’re a commander? That’s incredible. In fact, it’s absolutely unheard of.” Chapman looked up as Yelland and his group came up to him.
“You find my exec’s rank to be something strange, Senator?” Yelland said.
“I certainly do. I don’t know a single Negro officer in the entire active line of the navy, and this man says he’s been in uniform for sixteen years.”
“He’s also a graduate of Annapolis, senator. First in his class, by the way.”
Chapman shook his head, started to respond, and changed his mind. His world was spinning about him. He was grateful for the interruption from Kaufman. “Senator Chapman, we’ve established contact with the duty officer at Pearl. If you’ll take this seat, please? I’ve set up the speakers so everyone present can listen to both sides of the exchange, if that’s all right with you.”
“Fine, fine,” Chapman said, sitting before the microphone. He turned to look at Yelland. “All right to start?”
Yelland nodded. “By all means, Senator Chapman. And good luck to you.”
17
“This is Senator Samuel Chapman of the United States Senate. I am at this moment on board the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Nimitz, with Captain Matthew Yelland, the commanding officer, here with me. Please acknowledge and provide your name and rank. This is a matter of the utmost urgency. I repeat, this is an emergency. Do you understand? Over.”
The Mss and crackle of radio static burbled from the speaker. Chapman waited, impatience growing, frowning. “Calling Pearl Harbor! Calling Pearl Harbor! Damn you, answer this call! This is Senator Samuel Chapman aboard the aircraft carrier—”
“Whoever’s calling on this frequency, stand by.” Chapman remained quiet Then the radio speakers hissed and crackled again. “This is Lieutenant Perry Wade, officer of the deck. Go ahead, please.”
“It’s damned well time you answered!” Chapman shouted. “Now you listen to me, Wade. There’s a big damned Japanese fleet on its way to Pearl Harbor at this very minute, and they’re preparing to launch hundreds of fighters and bombers against you people the moment we get the first light of day. They have six carriers and two battleships and—”
He heard the shouted interruption. “Hold it! Hold it, for Christ’s sake! Who are you and—”
“Never mind all that!” Chapman was turning purple in his desperation to alert the American forces at Pearl. “Didn’t you hear me? Sound the alarm, for Cod’s sake. I said there was a whole Japanese battle fleet right now on its way to attack Pearl Harbor and—”
. . and I remind you that use of military channels by unauthorized personnel is a felony under federal law. This is a poor idea of a joke, whoever you are, and—”
“I told you who 1 am! Senator Sam Chapman! I’m aboard—”
The radio voice overrode his pathetic protests. “There is no aircraft carrier named Nimitz, and we’ve also checked with personnel, and there is no Captain Matthew Yelland in Pacific Command, so whoever you are, you idiot, get off this frequency! You’re wasting our time and you’re not funny.” The radio line went dead.
Chapman stared, speechless, at his mike. Slowly he made a fist and banged it very deliberately against the table. He looked as if he were about to suffer a stroke. His face twisted, he turned to Yelland. “In the name of God, Captain, tell them, please, tell them who you are—”
“You heard the man yourself, Senator Chapman. He won’t believe you and he won’t believe me.”
Chapman’s voice was badly strained. “He … he said there was no Nimitz and … and that they had no record of a Captain Matthew Yelland.”
“That’s what he said, Senator.”
“But—but—”
“I know. You’re not crazy, sir. I’m here and you’re aboard Nimitz. The man on the other end of that radio just doesn’t know about us.”
Sam Chapman looked at Yelland and the others as if they were ghosts. “Who are you people … ?“ There was no answer and Chapman looked about him frantically, settling his eyes finally on Lasky. You! You’re a civilian! What the hell is going on here?”
“Senator, my name is Warren Lasky, and I’m an advisor from the Department of Def—sorry, I meant the War Department I’m on board to test some new celestial navigation equipment for this ship.”
“Then maybe you can answer a direct question. What kind of damned charade are they playing with me?” Chapman was no longer the belligerent politician. Even his legendary reserves of willpower and determination were beginning to wane in the face of one staggering blow after another. Everything he had ever built and everything that had been real about him seemed to be wavering as if it had all turned to rubber on some shaky foundation. He was buffeted by things and events that hammered at his sense of reality.
Warren Lasky spread both hands, palms outward, courteously yet unquestionably easing out from under. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said calmly. “I’m here just as an observer. There’s really very little I know beyond the navigational system I’m here to study under line operations.”
Chapman eyed him warily. “Navigation, you said?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are we really two hundred miles off Pearl?”
“More or less, yes, we are.”
“What about all these crazy machines I’ve been seeing? Those airplanes without propellers and those whatever-they-are that took us out of the water? Where the hell did they come from?”
“I’m not allowed to answer anything like that, sir. The papers I signed before I came on this ship stated very clearly that I’d be violating military security if I discussed anything I saw here. It’s a standard form, Senator. Surely you’re aware of that requirement. If I answered you, I’d be breaking the law, and I won’t do that”
“What about those goddamned Japanese!” The voice was shrill again.
“Senator Chapman, you’ve made more speeches about the Japanese than anyone I know. You have the ear of President Roosevelt You’re in defense appropriations committees, and you’re asking me, a technician, about the Japanese? You saw everything I saw. You were there the whole time. What could I tell you that you don’t already know? I will tell you one thing else, Senator. No one aboard this carrier, no one, has lied to you.”
Chapman was sagging visibly. “One more thing. That officer, Owens, I think, how could he know the names of those Japanese warships? How could he know when they sailed? How could he know the names of officers and pilots? How in the name of God could he know all that?”
“Senator, Senator,” Lasky said softly, “do you believe there’s a Japanese battle fleet about to strike at Pearl Harbor in just a few hours? Does Washington believe an entire Japanese force could sail the entire Pacific and nobody would know about it? You talked to the duty officer at Pearl Harbor—he thought you were crazy when you told him about that fleet”
“He said there was no such warship as Nimitz and they’d never heard of Matthew Yelland!”
“Then, Senator, he’s incompetent or a fool or maybe both. Because you’re on the Nimitz and Matthew Yelland is right here in front of your eyes. And now, sir, if you’ll excuse me, I’m scheduled to do some tests with my equipment. You know, Senator, another day’s pay and all that”
Stalemate.
Chapman looked at him with a gaunt expression as Lasky walked by. Lasky stopped before Yelland, and they left the radio room together. Thurman would take care of Chapman for the moment “That was very neatly done, Warren,” Yelland said after a thoughtful pause.
“I know,” Lasky replied. “I almost believed it myself. Let me drop one on you, Matt. Time’s running out. That fateful hour is almost at hand What do you do now?”
“I think. I think hard and carefully and then I will decide. And not until then.”
Dick Owens knocked on the door to the small isolation ward Laurel opened it personally. “Clothes!” she exclaimed. “Three cheers for the navy. God will I be glad to get into something fresh and clean.” She closed the door behind him. “What’s the latest style?” she queried with a grin.
“Would you believe, Miss Scott—”
“Laurel, please.”
“Good. The name on this side of the fence is Dick.” “All right, what am I supposed to believe?”
“We have a tailor on board who is very fast and fancy with a sewing machine. We gave him your size. You have your choice of bell bottoms, loose blouses, or what was once a flight suit, now tailored to you exactly and adorned with all the little things that make women happy and look great”
“You’re quite the salesman. Why don’t I try the flight suit, or what it is now.”
“Jumpsuit I think you’ll like it.” He placed the clothing on the table. “I’ll wait outside while you change.”
She motioned for him to stay. “Dick, please don’t go. I’ll guard my modesty by changing behind this screen. Right now being alone is the most frightening thing I can imagine. I’m confused I’ve nearly been killed twice today, men have died all around me, I don’t recognize what’s happening, and even old Rock-of-Gibralter Chapman is frazzled to tatters.” She moved behind the screen. “Make small talk, Richard Whatever. Well let me worry about my reputation.” He laughed “There’s hardly any need to worry about your reputation.”
“Sure,” came her voice from behind the screen.
“You must snatch stray girls out of the ocean all the time. Happens every day, right?”
“Well, not every day. Your case is different. We don’t always rescue fair damsels in the company of a United States senator.”
She didn’t answer immediately. “Richard, would you mind if I were very blunt about something?”
“Not at all. Officer and a gentleman and all that” “Well, let me tell you something, then. I’m an ambitious and a very capable young woman. You’ve been very decent with me and that’s why I’m saying this. I’m rough in the clinches. I’m a better politician than most people on the Hill. I’m much too smart to be a girl. All these are elements not much appreciated in our day and age, so I’ve also become very good at being a chameleon where people don’t even know I’m around. It’s a man*s world out there, Commander Richard Owens. I assume you’ll agree to that”
He almost laughed aloud. She didn’t know there was a choice of worlds, really. “Okay, I’ll agree.” “You’re too patronizing.”
“Try honest.”
“Your point I wasted a lot of years trying to hide the way I look. I even wore glasses I didn’t need, and tied my hair in a bun, and flattened my bustline. All sorts of things in the hope that some of the men I had to work for might notice brains instead of body.” “From what I saw of you, dripping wet and frightened, and imagined how you’d look otherwise,” he said slowly, “my guess is that it didn’t work out too well.”
“Let’s just say,” she answered carefully, “that in the long run I found out I was losing on both ends of the candle. So I decided to use what mother nature gave me freely—womanhood. And if that helps to open the doors I want opened—well, they say that God helps those who help themselves, and I’m on a full program of self help.”
