SUNDAY SERIES: BEYOND BORDERS
Prologue
Captain Mark Sinclair stood on the deck of the U.S.S. Ronald Reagan observing the last drills that were scheduled for the day. F30’s were taking off and landing. Rain and wind blasting, from what seemed to be . . . everywhere.
The captain always liked to observe the drills from this open spot on the deck. Even in this pelleting rain. His hood was pulled tightly around his face, and his goggles provided cover for his eyes. He was wearing all the latest from the Navy. The only part of him that was uncovered was his mouth.
“I can’t slow them down one bit,” said Captain Sinclair, “even in this mess.”
The captain loved to test his soldiers in adverse conditions. A class two hurricane is not the worst condition, however, to run combat drills, it is the best time to see what the soldiers are made of. He was proud of the men and women under his command. He hand picked every single one on the ship and personally oversaw their interview process. When they preformed the drills well, like today, Captain Sinclair made sure they were rewarded.
“Did you say something Captain?” Yelled the petty officer over the pounding rain.
“Just thinking out loud. How did they do?” Replied the captain.
The petty officer looked down at his laptop, punched a few keys, and looked up at the captain, “Captain, the crew has beaten their best time.”
“Good news.” the captain replied firmly, “Tell the crew. Let them know that - I am proud of them. Movie night is back on.” as a slight smile broke as he continued, “Tell the officers that we are playing Texas hold’em in my mess tonight. Although we are at alert status, let them know that there will be no more drills for the rest of the week.” The captain’s lips pulled back as his expression returned to concern, “If anything comes up it will be the real deal. I want normal watches around the clock. Make sure everything is locked down tight. This storm will get worse before it gets better.”
“Yes Captain. Current radar puts it at a class three as of now.” The petty officer spun on his heels and began to issue the captain’s orders.
Captain Sinclair turned around and the door opened; he walked in and the door closed. Standing before Captain Sinclair was an ensign waiting to take his rain gear. The captain shook off whatever loose water that was dripping off him and removed his gear. The ensign grabbed the gear while saying, “Captain, I just received word that your presence is needed on the command deck.”
“Thank you Ensign.” The captain began to walk away and stopped. He turned around and said, “Make sure that this is all dry before they find their way back to my quarters. Do we have an understanding?”
“Yes Captain.” In a tone that almost sounded like an apology. The ensign remembers the last time, when he accidentally got the captain’s closet all wet. He also remembers having to polish all the chrome on the entire ship after; with the captain’s tool of choice, a q-tip. It took the ensign a few dozen boxes and three days to do it. The captain really did feel bad for him on the third day, but he also loved the shine on his ship. The captain wasn't one to give out punishments; it really wasn't his style. On the other hand, when one of his men or women dose something truly stupid, he makes sure they won't do it again.
The captain made his way through the ship and finally to the CAC. “CAPTAIN ON DECK!” yelled the first officer who saw him enter.
The captain walked straight to Ensign Maryweather “Report!”
Ensign Maryweather quickly replied, “Captain there is a communiqué from, the, ahhh . . . Admiral Stephens.”
“Where is he calling from?”
“The Pentagon Captain.”
“I'll take it in my ready room.”
“Yes Captain.”
The admiral only called from the pentagon when orders are to be given. The captain shut his door as he swiftly entered his ready room, sat at his desk and lifted the screen on his laptop. Captain Sinclair took a deep breath in as the screen came up. He glanced behind him at the pictures of his family on the wall behind his desk. His wife Denise, and two children, Mike and Marina. Mike Sinclair, his oldest son at twenty nine. He is also chose a career in the military like his father. But the similarity ends there. Mike had joined the Air Force and is now a major. Captain Sinclair and Major Sinclair spent a good deal of their conversations bumping heads and arguing. It escalated to the point when they had to agree on a non-aggression pact during Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the Super Bowl. It actually had worked out pretty well for the past year; with the exception of the days not included in the pact, those three days were nice. The captain’s youngest is twenty six year old Dr. Marina Sinclair. She is not a medical doctor; her doctorate is in physics. She currently works in Seattle, at a large research and development lab that contracts to the military. Marina is responsible for creating the new interceptor rocket. A defensive rocket to take down other rockets. She just started on a new project that she hopes will really boost her career. His wife, Denise, is the President of a large advertising firm in L.A. Denise’s firm’s client list included all the big names in the world today, from Tylenol to Nike, they do it all.
When the captain’s screen came on, he saw the admiral sitting at a large conference table flanked by two generals. “Captain, good to see you,” Admiral Stephens blurted out quickly, “The only man alive that looks like he gets younger as the years go by.”
“You have bad news for me, don’t you Admiral?” He saw it in the admiral’s eyes.
“I am sorry Captain, but IT is official. We are at war. Mexico declared it an hour ago stating that we will pay for all the worlds’ problems. Be on alert. We can’t afford to lose you. Right now the whole Gulf is smothered in thick cloud cover. We need to know what they are up to.”
“There isn't much we can do until this hurricane goes by.”
“Effective immediately, your standing orders have changed. You are to proceed to Corpus Christi to refuel and take on additional crew. Upon arrival, you will receive your new orders.”
“What about the Mexican fleet? Who will be here if they come up through the Gulf and hit any one of the coastal states from Florida to Texas?”
“You can still keep an eye on them with your long range radar and the orbital monitoring station link up. If anything happens we will know about it. You will still be in position to launch an impressive attack on them should the need arise.” The admiral and the captain have a long history together, going back to the days when they were at the OCS (Officer Cadence School). Nine times out of ten they skipped formalities and stuck to their first names. Unfortunately today was not one of those days.
Before Captain Sinclair could respond Admiral Stephens, the ships alarm went off and his intercom was beeping. The captain pressed the talk button on the intercom and shouted “Report!”
“Captain Sinclair, we are unable to locate a large portion of the Mexican fleet.” yelled back the voice from the intercom.
“I am on my way!” the captain knew it was them. He knew that the Mexican fleet had him. He began to blame himself for parking his ship in the middle of a hurricane for drills. He should have been at Corpus Christi waiting the storm out. Captain Sinclair recalls his own words exactly . . . It’s just a bit of rain.
The captain walked in to the CAC. Ensign Maryweather looked to the captain and said, “Captain, reports are in from our fighters. Half of the Mexican fleet has disappeared. Due to the storms strength, we were not able to keep a fix on their positions. The storm has affected all of our monitoring systems. The orbital is useless through all the cloud cover.”
Captain Sinclair’s face was determined and frustrated, “Do we know which of the ships have moved off radar? Get a lock on their positions ASAP!”
“The ships that moved off were……I got it……all of their fast movers. At least fourteen. Captain, I can’t get a lock on anything out there.”
Which is exactly what the Mexicans are counting on, thought Captain Sinclair.
“The only way to get a beat on anything out there would be to have a laser on it.”
Which is exactly what the Mexicans are doing.
The captain remained silent for another few moments, then looked up with shock in his eyes, and loudly billowed “Ensign, best possible speed to Corpus Christi. Have all defensive systems brought online. Launch all fighters to create a one hundred mile perimeter. I want a warning net until our systems are at 100%.”
“You heard Captain Sinclair! Best possible speed to Corpus Christi, have all defensive systems brought online, and launch all fighters to create a one hundred mile perimeter.” Once the Ensign relayed the orders he turned to the captain “Everything all right Captain?”
“No. Admiral Stephens just informed me that we are at war with Mexico. We need to get out of this storm and to Corpus Christi to join the fleet.” Captain Sinclair said in a monotone breath, knowing already, that his was never going to make it. Then that is when IT happened. The captain’s eyes dilated as they locked on the first F-30 getting ready to take off. Just as the F-30 was breaking free from the runway it erupted in a ball of fire.
The F-30 was the first of a series of explosions after explosions, that sounded with each second that ticked by. Just off the bow, was a small Mexican Zodiac with two men on it laser targeting the USS Ronald Reagan. The captain opened his mouth to yell out orders to the crew when he was cut off by a high pitch scream. He turned, looked out in to the storm, the entire deck of the U.S.S. Ronald Reagan was destroyed by incoming rocket fire. The enemy ships came in undetected using the storm to mask their approach.
Captain Sinclair closed his eyes and thought of his wife Denise, and kids, Mike and Marina. Remembering one of the few times his family was together for a picnic in the park. His wife Denise, so beautiful in her sundress; beautiful long brown hair blowing in the wind. He held on to that thought as the missile broke through the window and entered the CAC. A bright flash was followed by an explosion when the CAC burst in to a small sun. The aircraft carrier took another thirty minutes of bombardment before it settled to rest at the bottom of the Gulf. September 24th 2012 will be a day remembered in history. The U.S.S. Ronald Reagan was destroyed by Mexico. We are at war.
Chapter 1 Next Sunday
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