Aboard Argos Fire MacRae was leaning over the radar map with Mister Healey. He had seen the firing tracks of his first two missiles, and they waited briefly, looking for any diminishment of speed in the two contacts that were hit. Five minutes later it was clear that the enemy was undeterred. Smaller, faster contacts were increasing speed. They saw two groups of five, which appeared to be destroyer squadrons increasing to nearly 36 knots. Many ships were also now launching seaplanes, as these were carried even down to the light cruiser class in the French Navy. They saw six more planes aloft and fanning out ahead of the fleet.
“Look at that,” said MacRae. “Do we want to commit another six Vipers against seaplanes?” He looked at Morgan now.
“Twenty minutes and they break our horizon in any case. If you want my advice, I’d begin retiring on the British Fleet now and try to stay ahead of those bastards. Save your missiles. It’s only a matter of time until they make contact with us.”
MacRae agreed, and ordered the ship to come about to a heading that would take him west of the British squadron. No sense leading those brigands any other place, he thought.
“Well, our opening salvo doesn’t seem to have made much of an impression.” Gordon looked Elena’s way, but she stood in icy silence, watching the operations but saying nothing. Executive Officer Dean was quick enough to realize what had happened. Miss Fairchild had ordered the Captain to conserve ammunition, which was understandable. He had looked at the results of the initial missile strikes and realized the difficulties.
“If I may, sir.” He said, drifting to MacRae’s side. “We might make better use of our SSMs if we target their lighter class ships. The core of their fleet is most likely well armored battleships. Some of these ships have belt armor exceeding ten inches thick. Our missiles weren’t built to penetrate that, but against their cruisers and destroyers we’ll likely get a mission kill with every hit. It’s either that or we’ll have to program every missile for popup maneuver and try to hit the superstructure, but even the conning towers of the heavier ships would be very well protected. We’ll shake them up and start a fire, but going after the escorts is our best bet. It might winnow down the odds a bit.”
“Aye,” said MacRae. “Let’s see what we can do. One more missile, Mister Dean. You make the target selection.”
Dean huddled with Healey to get his best advice and then they decided to fire at what looked to be an escort cruiser. It was moving out in front of two other ships, and making just over 30 knots. They did not know it at the time, but they were fingering the light cruiser La Galissonniere, lead ship in a class of three that formed the 3rd Cruiser Division of the High Seas Fleet at Toulon. The missile was away, and it would do considerably more harm when it struck. Yet even for a light cruiser, La Galissonniere was protected with side armor exceeding 100mm, and 95mm on the conning tower where the blow fell. The missile had sufficient kinetic impact to blast through, but just barely, and the resulting fire was very bad on this smaller ship of just over 9100 tons full load. The bridge was put out of action by the smoke and flames, but the message got passed aft and the engines reduced speed. One brave soul stayed with the helm and brought the ship around, turning about and seeking safety behind the fleet to try and fight the fire. Dean had been correct. The fires were bad enough to take the ship out of the fight, a mission kill if not an outright sinking.
“That’s a little better,” said MacRae when they saw th eship turn on radar. “I’ll want those X-3s in the air at once, Mister Dean. They are to look for light destroyer class vessels and put their Sea Skuas to good use. The British will have enough on their hands without having to worry about the enemy torpedo runs.”
As the first helo lifted off Morgan found MacRae and spoke quietly. “This isn’t looking good, Gordie. When those big fellows out there catch up to the Queen Elizabeth…”
“I understand,” said MacRae. “But we’ll do what we can.”
“Let’s move Tommy,” said Lieutenant Ryan as he strapped himself into his X-3 helicopter. His co-pilot, Tom Wicks was in and settled in his seat in no time, and the props were turning on the sleek new bird, a hybrid craft that would ascend like a helo and then use a pair of turbo props to achieve speeds well over 470KPH, nearly as fast as fighters of that day. It was swift, agile, and today it would have four Sea Skua missiles aboard, two on each outer pylon. It could also carry Hellfires, Hydra-70 rocket pods, and had a lethal chain gun in the nose. The Sea Skuas would take up all the room on the pylons, leaving only two points on the outer edge for a pair of ATAS Air-to-Air Stingers for defense against planes. But the chopper’s best move would be its speed, aerodynamic agility and stealth.
