Sky Masters полностью

Lubu’s mouth dropped open in surprise. His eyes grew wide as he realized what it was. “Sir… Admiral, you cannot.… !"

“We cannot be razed like this, Captain,” Yin said calmly. “I will not suffer defeat at the hands of these people.” He inserted the key into a lock on a flat panel on the instrument console in front of his seat, waited as the door popped open. Inside the compartment was a red-colored telephone handset with communications cords and several unmarked buttons. Yin pressed the yellow button. A buzzer sounded around the entire ship. With Lubu looking on in absolute horror, men throughout the ship scrambled to prepare for an order that had never before been executed…

Admiral Yin picked up the red-handled phone within the unlocked compartment before him on the instrument console. “This is Admiral Yin,” he said. “Command is Battle Cry. Battle Cry. Over.”

“Initial code verified,” a voice on the other end of the line asked. “Targets, sir?”

“Target the southern corvette, turn, and target the eastern frigate,” he said in a low voice. “Execute in three minutes, system automatic. Authentication is Red Moon. Repeat, Red Moon. Over.”

“Understood, sir. Authentication verified. Full connectivity check… received. Execution in three minutes… mark. System automatic engaged. Countdown hold in two minutes. Combat out.” Yin replaced the red phone in its cradle.

A crewman dashed up to the two senior officers, carrying heavy gloves, a heavy black smock that resembled a thick poncho, and a heavy helmet with large gold protective eye goggles and a plastic face shield with respirator. Lubu accepted his but did not don it. “Admiral, I ask you to reconsider. We should receive authority from headquarters before attempting this…”

Yin allowed the crewman to help him on with the lead- impregnated smock, placed the helmet on his head, connected the interphone cords and breathing apparatus, and rolled down his sleeves. Inside the helmet, he could hear the reports coming in to Lubu as each desk and each station reported its Red Moon status.

“Admiral, you must stop this…” Lubu persisted.

“Two minutes to Red Moon execution,” the loudspeaker blared. “Two minutes to Red Moon execution… mark. All decks report ready.”

“My fleet is surrounded, we are under attack, we are in danger of losing the Spratly Islands and indeed most of the South China Sea to the Filipinos,” Yin said through the respirator. His flashblindness goggles and oxygen mask made him look sinister, even deranged, like a sea monster from a horror movie. “I have the power to stop them. My only other choice is to surrender to them, and that I will never do.”

“But this will create a disaster of international proportions,” Lubu argued. “We are too close to the Philippine shoreline. The water is too shallow — we will do irreparable harm to the coral reefs and the sea bottom in these shallow waters. You must cancel the order.”

“Put on your protective gear and prepare for Red Moon execution, Captain,” Yin said through the mask and respirator. “That is an order. ”

“You cannot do this. We will be in a state of war, with the Filipinos, the Americans, the entire world. ”

“Range to the south target?” Yin radioed to Combat. “Thirty kilometers and closing,” came the reply. “Helicopters at seven kilometers, ETA three minutes… sensor warning missiles on intercept course, ETA forty seconds, AA batteries and close-in systems manned and ready…”

“Admiral, please…” Captain Lubu shouted, his hands on the armrest of Yin’s chair. “At least… at least broadcast a warning message, sir.” Yin shook his head, a slow, ghastly gesture that made it look like the Death’s Head itself refusing the pleas of the ones condemned to die.

“You old fool, you can’t do this!” Lubu shouted. He turned to the officer of the deck, who was fully outfitted in his nuclear-chemical-biological-warfare gear. “Cancel Red Moon execution on my order, Commander. Broadcast on emergency frequency that this fleet is disengaging and departing Filipino waters immediately.”

“Sir, I must have the cancellation code,” the officer of the deck shouted through his mask. The officer of the deck was trained to respond to orders from the ship’s captain, not the Admiral on board; therefore there was no question that he would obey lawful orders from Lubu. But procedures still had to be followed, especially in combat conditions and with the flotilla commander on deck in active command.

Lubu looked at the dark visage of Yin behind his mask. The Fleet Admiral made no movement, spoke nothing. Lubu said angrily, “On my authority, Commander. The codes are in a safe in my cabin. You know I have them. Until I retrieve the codes, I order you to cancel the execution order immediately.”

The officer of the deck turned to look at both Yin and Lubu. Most of the rest of the bridge crew was watching the exchange as well. Then the officer of the deck said, “I’m sorry, sir, but the Admiral is still on the bridge and he has command. I cannot supersede his orders.”