The Faithful, North African and Middle Eastern Islamic nations, are plotting to seize the oil resources of the Middle East. By controlling the earth's oil and its major trade routes, they plan to bring the world to its knees. Then, when the entire world is kneeling, the Faithful of Allah will read to them from the Koran, preaching the message of Islam, the True Faith. The Faithful will stop at nothing to achieve their goal. But how far will they go? And how many lives will it cost?

6. World War

6.7 America

6.7.1 Halsey: Near Crete

Commander Jimmy Johanson handed the message to Admiral Duncan. Mr. Threat was smiling for the first time in days.

JT Duncan had to smile in return. Jimmy was the worst poker player he'd ever known. He just couldn't keep a secret. "Good news, Jimmy?"

"Yes, Sir, the Israelis have taken Damascus! They kicked the shit out of the Syrians and a couple of Iraqi divisions yesterday and rolled into Damascus this morning. That knocks Syria out of the war and puts a big crimp in the Iraqi plans."

"What does it do to the threat to us?"

"Well, it almost eliminates it. The Syrians can't mount either an air or sea attack on us, except maybe some solo venture by a loony out to meet Allah in Paradise. On the other hand, it really strengthens our hand. Those Israeli pilots are really good, and they won't let anything fly against us. So, in effect, we've lost a threat and gained two-hundred-plus top-flight pros flying cover for us. Like I said, it's the best news in days."

Duncan had to agree with him. The loss of Bunker Hill was serious. It was the only ship in the fleet with the TACCATS system. Halsey and the DDGs had decent computers, but not like that one. When factored with the serious depletion of their AAMs, which hadn't been replenished since the battle, the fleet's automated anti-missile and anti-aircraft systems were in critical shape.

On top of that, Halsey had been far more badly damaged than first suspected. The same missile that had knocked out her after-starboard batteries, had also crippled her aft starboard elevator. With only the aft port elevator in action, the flight deck and the hangers bottle-necked easily. The loss of the elevator destroyed landing patterns, launch windows, recovery cycles and everything else a carrier was supposed to do. The Air Boss was gritting his teeth and trying to work around it. The only thing that would cure the problem was a working elevator, and Admiral Duncan didn't have a spare one lying around.

"So, we got plenty of air cover and no threats. That's the good news."

"What's the bad news?"

"The Iranaqis kicked the crap out of us at Jubayl." Johanson leaned over, flicked on a screen and hit a few keys. A map of the Persian Gulf appeared. He pointed to a small city on the coast. "The Ninth and Twelfth Light were overrun here. The Eighty-Second and the One-Oh-One were trying to cover their retreat. But, they've busted through in force and there's nothing to stop them short of the Arabian Sea.

"Admiral, you are to call General Algarro at his HQ in Riyadh at 10:00. At that time, you'll fall under CentCom officially. I wouldn't want to try to out-guess a Gator, but I'll bet we're going into restricted waters."

"Anything else?"

"Yes, Sir, our PhibRon, along with Victory and Ajax, is steaming through the Straits of Sicily right now."

"Speaking of incidents, what of our North African friends?"

"You've got me there, Sir. There's been a lot of shipping activity, mostly heading east, but it's hard to say whether that's normal for this time of year, an artifact of our restriction zone and the battle or what. Whatever it is the Egyptians are taking it very seriously. They've called a full mobilization, but that'll take 'em a week or more. In the meantime, they've sent a division west towards their border with Libya. The situation's still pretty murky, but we're keeping our eye on it, just in case."

"OK, Jimmy, keep me informed. I gotta talk with Gator. Pass the word for Ed to join me."

Three minutes later, Captain Teegin joined him and two minutes after that the VisiPhone blinked on showing General Algarro's taut and unsmiling face. Next to him was a large man, with a full, round and thoroughly Arabic face. Gator tried to smile. "Good Morning, Admiral."

"Good Morning, General. Sixth Fleet reporting for duty. May I present Halsey's CO, Captain Edward Teegin."

"Captain, Admiral, this is General Mahumaddi el Sayd a-Fayd, Saudi Chief of Staff. We have been discussing our options. Are you aware of the military situation?"

"Yes, Sir. I was briefed on the battle of Jubayl, if that is what you mean. How bad is it?"

"It's disaster, Dunk. Quite frankly we got our asses kicked, and we're running just as fast as we can. We have decided to abandon the defense of Jubayl and to concentrate our remaining forces along a front from Al-Qatif to Al-Khubail. We're going to make it a fight for the cities. They've got us completely outnumbered, out-gunned and out-classed, at least on the ground.

"We've got only three advantages, and we're going to try to make them pay off. First, in the cities, their superiority in tanks and armor is diminished. Second, the further south they come, the longer their supply lines. Third, we control the sea.

"You'll notice I've said nothing about our control of the air. Quite frankly, it's pretty damned even. We've got superior aircraft, crews, training and doctrine. They've got numbers on us, and they're using them to their best advantage.

"My plan is to turn our control of the sea into air superiority and to destroy their logistical support. If we can do that, we can stop them in place. We won't be able to push them back, but we can stop them until the big stuff arrives.

"You will rendezvous with Norm Spigott and the Kimmel in the Gulf of Oman. He'll be here a day or so before you, but once you've rendezvoused, you're my Navy Boss. I've swiped a couple of his AWACs, but your two carriers should be able to make do with six of them. He's got his replenishment ship with him, so you'll be able to use it. His PhibRon will be here in about three days. I understand that yours will take a little longer?"

"Yes, Sir. Admiral Ellingstone's fleet linked up with the Brits and is sailing past Sicily right now. They should be available in four to six days. The Brits are sending Victory all the way, so we'll have three carriers in less than a week. That should really bring some pressure to bear. Blacky Breckenridge is coming in with the PhibRon, and the rest of his Brigade is four or five days behind him. If all goes according to plan, the Jefferson will be with them which will add a big punch to the operations."

"Sounds good, Dunk. Give Norm a call, and I'll hear from you regularly at this hour."

"OK, Gator. Hang in there, and tell the guys the Navy's on its way!" The general smiled weakly as the screen went blank. Duncan turned to Ed Teegin. "Mr. Threat was right again. Better get him in here for this."

Three minutes later, Norm Spigott's emaciated, long face filled the screen. "Hi, Dunk, what's all that on your shoulders? They booted you upstairs and forgot to tell you there was a war on?"

"And, to you too, Spig! I hear you'll be in shoot 'em up country tomorrow."

"Yah, and I hear that I get to be king of the Navy's hill for only another day or so. Hey, did you hear that Gator stole two of my Hawkeyes? Something about the needs of the many. Oh, by the way, we've got plenty of stores. I managed to grab a few extra SM-4s before we left. Thought we might need some. Sound good to you? Got anything to trade?"

"Jesus Christ, Spig, you haven't changed in thirty years, except maybe to get even uglier. By the way, where should we meet? I got some real problems in the missile department. We lost Bunker Hill, and my DDGs are down to a total of thirty or forty shots. My air ops are also shot to hell. We lost the aft starboard elevator. In fact the entire aft starboard is a mess."

"So I heard, but I also heard you guys did a hell of a job. Sure, we got plenty of SM-4s, and Saratoga is loaded. But, that's bad news about the elevator. I hadn't heard about that. That could really screw up your air ops."

"True enough. So, when we have to scramble, you'll be doing most of it. By the way, where do we meet?"

"LA? San Fran? Nah, my best guess would be off of Muscat in three or four days."

"Sounds good. We'll put the boots to this old horse, and make a wake in the Red Sea, but we'll be there. I'm sure the Egyptians will expedite our little shipment. By the way, who's running your PhibRon?"

"Jerry Lake. Sam Carter's the big Marine. You know them?"

"No, but I'll look 'em up in the phone book. See you in four days, Spig."

"Thanks, Dunk, and congrats on the third star. It looks good on you."

Teegin looked askance at Duncan. "Know that guy well, do you?"

"My brother-in-law."

"No shit! I know Jerry Lake. He's a good guy, and handles his boats really smooth. Don't ever sail against him! But, I don't know anything about this Marine."

"Well, Ed, if he's anything like Blacky, those Iranaqis are in deep shit. Captain, set a course for Suez, Djibouti and Muscat at best speed."

"Aye, Aye, Sir."