Fourth Vector Ch. 20

"Are you going to be able to get a lot of preparation done on the ship?" teased Jack. "Not much you can do here."

Dustin grinned. "You'd be surprised. I'll have those bastards in fighting shape and ready to conquer Swabia by the time you drop us off in Daban."

*****

Back in Java, the day of the invasion was becoming more tense by the hour. Bancroft had never felt a time when his heart raced with this much adrenaline, and it showed in his body language. His leg shook repeatedly under his desk. He bit his nails, something he hadn't done since he was a boy. It was a filthy habit, but he just couldn't help himself. He was tied to the radio chatter of Vice Admiral Henrik's task force as well as that of the invasion fleet.

Ever since he made the fateful decision the night before, Bancroft was waiting for the moment when the Occitanians would strike. It was all but inevitable at this point. There were two possible channels that the Occie channel fleet could go down to fall upon the invasion force. A southeast passage that was wider around Barrier Island and a tighter northwest passage. Conventional wisdom dictated that the Occitanian force would go for the larger passage due to the size of their fleet.

Yet their lookouts all reported the channel force going down the smaller northwest passage. Normally, this wouldn't have been an issue, except for the fact that he'd ordered Henrik's force up the much larger southeast passage.

It would mean that the two forces would pass each other on each side of Barrier Island, not being able to spot or fire upon the other. Henrik's force would emerge on the other side of the channel without an Occitanian ship in sight. The Occie force would emerge on their side of the channel, coming directly upon the invasion fleet in the middle of unloading the first troops on Occitanian soil.

It would be total carnage. A bloodbath of epic proportions as long as they didn't stall out in the attack.

Bancroft clenched his fist several times as he listened to Henrik search for the enemy. It had been like this all morning, and it was already pushing the early afternoon. In reality, he should have spotted the Occies by now if they were in the right passage, a thought that had no doubt occurred to Henrik.

"Admiral Bancroft, we are only five miles from the mouth of the channel on the eastern side," came the radio chatter from Henrik. "No enemy forces have been spotted."

"Keep looking," radioed back Bancroft. "Perhaps they've doubled back, especially if they've spotted you."

Henrik didn't respond. Neither did his deputy, Clark, either. Instead Clark had been silent after his words last night, when he figured out what Bancroft was up to. His eyes weren't silent however, and Bancroft knew just from one look at the man where his true feelings laid.

He'll get over it eventually, thought Bancroft.As long as this works out.

Switching back to the invasion force, Bancroft listened to the chatter as the first ships began to deposit soldiers on the beaches. For their part, there were two main beaches along the southern coast of the country that they targeted, picked for their size and for the deeper waters just off the coast. Bancroft had selected them personally because they'd be able to get as close as possible to the shore with the ships before sending the troops in, and because the beaches were wide enough that he could land a substantial force there in a limited amount of time.

This was all determined by him before he'd had his change of heart. It was his ace in the hole just in case his plans didn't work out the way he expected them to. Now with the Javan soldiers taking their first steps on Occitanian soil, the emperor's plan wasn't looking so bad. Bancroft considered the fact that just maybe they might have all the soldiers unloaded before the Occitanians realized they were there, defeating a good portion of his plan.

It wasn't meant to be. The first alarming piece of radio chatter came in not soon after.

"Invasion force to headquarters, we have enemy ships to the east, bearing down on our position," came the first excited voice, causing their entire headquarters to spring into chaotic action from their previously inactive calm.

"Invasion force, what do you see?" replied Bancroft.

"Enemy ships! Battleships and cruisers, at least fifteen, maybe more," came the response. "They'll be on us anytime now! Where is Admiral Henrik's force?"

From there, there was an explosion of radio chatter, especially as the first salvo came in from the Occitanian force. Bancroft's radio operators were working vigorously at keeping up with the stream of information coming from the invasion force as the quiet peace of the room dissolved.

"They've sunk a transport!"

"I'm leaking fuel and must return back home!"

"My god, we've been hit!"

"Requesting permission to return to port!"

"Good god, they've just taken out another transport!"

"The men are stranded on the beaches!"

Meanwhile, Henrik's force had figured out that the Occitanian channel fleet was now between it and the invasion fleet, and Henrik kept radioing in for instructions. Bancroft had it delegated to another admiral to do so while he focused on trying to salvage what remained of the transport fleet. Based upon the sound of things, they were getting slaughtered.

"Break off the invasion," ordered Bancroft to the head of the invasion force. "Get away while you still can!"

"What about Admiral Henrik?" asked another admiral through the radio. "Where is our protection?"

"On the wrong side of the Barrier Island," said Bancroft. "You need to look toward your own defense."

"We have no defense!"

This scene continued on for the next few hours until dark, when most of the chatter either fell away or was silenced permanently. It was around six o'clock that Bancroft was able to put together a good picture of what was left.

The Occitanian force shredded the transports, leaving only about sixty of them still afloat. Of those sixty, another nineteen were in various states of damage. Some of them had just taken some secondary fire while others were barely afloat, limping back to port. Many of them wouldn't make it back to Lockhaven. There were a lot of miles of open sea between them and the Occitanian force. Bancroft gave orders for the surviving men that were still on the transports to make a dash for the shore while they still could.

For many of them, that meant jumping overboard once the transport was close enough to shore so that they could swim for it without the ship having to slow down.

It was a debacle of momentous proportions. Those men that were lucky enough to still have a transport ship at the end of the day drowned in the shallow waters off the Javan coast fully loaded down with their gear. The ones that did make it back to shore were truly fortunate. They would live to fight another day. With barely three thousand soldiers having landed on the southern coast of Occitania, they would soon be captured without any hope of reinforcement or supply.

Another major incident was that the Javan crown prince, corpulent George himself, had decided to risk all the odds and accompany the men on one of the transport craft. Unfortunately for Bancroft, his transport was spared enemy fire, however he was later told it made quite the sight to watch the fat prince of Java swim for his life back to the coast. Despite the severity of the situation, Bancroft rather enjoyed the mental image of George's fat blubber trying to stay afloat in rough currents.

Another blow to morale occurred when Henrik's force got to the other side of the channel, finding nothing but the remains of the transport force. The Occitanian force had slipped away just as quietly as it appeared, no doubt retracing its tracks back up the northwest passage. When it became apparent that the Occitanians had gotten away, Henrik repurposed his force toward picking up survivors, but after so many hours in the open waters of the turbulent channel, there weren't many who were still alive.

All told, of the approximately thirty thousand men who attempted the invasion at the start of the day, only about sixteen thousand were still alive. Three of that sixteen were stuck on the Occitanian coast, while the remains of the other thirteen were the tattered remnants of the two original divisions. Most likely, those divisions would be out of action for quite some time while they were replenished with men and material, yet the lives of all those that drowned in the channel could never be replaced.

That evening around ten o'clock, the Bancroft's entire team of admirals, save for Henrik, met to discuss the disaster. Bancroft had never seen a room full of such pale faces in his life. For good reason, though, as it could very well mean their heads today. The emperor was already requesting his presence, and his dispatch was filled with colorful words and depictions of what he'd like to do to all the Admiralty for their loss. It was time to salvage the situation.

"We're dead men," said Rear Admiral Jasper Strong, swallowing heavily. "All of us. How could this have happened?"

"How did the Occies get between us?" asked Vice Admiral Harvey Kuntz. "Henrik's force was in the right place. How could they have missed them?"

"Henrik had to have gone down the wrong channel," said Vice Admiral Walter McKenzie. "We had the orders where he was supposed to go, right Admiral Bancroft?"

"Right you are, McKenzie," replied Bancroft before looking over to Clark. Clark's mouth was hanging open, knowing the farce that was now on Bancroft's tongue. "We received multiple reports of the Occies going down the northwest passage, and this is where we told Henrik to go. He deliberately went down the wrong passage on the southeast side of Barrier Island."

"Deliberately?" asked Kuntz. "That's a strong word, don't you think, sir? I've known Henrik a long time. He's a good man."

By his side, Clark made a small noise in his throat. Bancroft turned his attention to him, threatening him into silence with one, single glare. Clark gulped noticeably but didn't say another word nor made another noise.

"These are hard days for Java right now," started Bancroft, producing two notes on this desk. "I never thought I'd see the day when another officer would willingly sell out his country."

"Sell out his country? What do you mean, Admiral?" asked Strong.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush with this one, gentlemen. I had a suspicion, starting only recently, that something was going on with Admiral Henrik. Something nefarious. When he disobeyed my orders for which passage to go through, it was the last straw for me. I got curious, and I had my man Clark here rummage around in Henrik's office. We found these.

All the men in the room turned their attention briefly to Clark, who went red in the face at being implicated in the plot, before looking back to the two notes in front of him.

"The first is my order to Admiral Henrik about the spotting of the Occitanian force," said Bancroft, before passing the order around the table. "As you can see, I ordered him to go up the northwest passage where the Occies were, not the southeast. He disobeyed this order."

"The second piece of evidence I have is this note that Clark found in his desk under lock and key. A note from the Occitanian foreign minister."

Several of the men in the room gasped as Bancroft held the note aloft with most of them making a motion to grab it. Bancroft let it loose to the first hand that took it, watching with careful appraisal as the admirals took it all in.

"It appears he's been under the employ of the Occitanians for some time. As you can see by the details, he's been receiving payments directly from the Occitanian treasury," said Bancroft with a regretful look. "My guess is that he was the one that passed along information to them about where to position their fleet while he deliberately sent his own force down the wrong channel."

"This is incredible," whispered Strong. "How could Henrik do this? I've known him forever, and I never would've guessed he'd be capable of this."

Bancroft shrugged dramatically. "My guess is that he saw an opportunity to enrich himself at his country's expense. It's the only possible explanation for this."

"How could he though? All those dead men," said McKenzie, more in shock than anything. "Even our lives he puts in jeopardy. How could any officer do that to his country?"

Bancroft turned away from them in a calculated move. "A question that I keep asking myself. I'm not sure what would have possessed the man to act in this fashion. Perhaps it was dissatisfaction with his own life or career? Perhaps it was related to family. I don't know. All I know is that the proof is right there in front of you gentlemen. I know the emperor will be demanding an explanation for this, especially seeing as this invasion was so important to the war effort. The sad truth of it all is that it was sabotaged from within."

"I'm just finding this hard to believe." said Kuntz, giving the first direct challenge to Bancroft's story. Bancroft thought it was fitting it came from Kuntz of all of them. His opinion of the man was that he was certainly the most intelligent in the room. Save for himself, that is. "If you knew he'd switched sides or was communicating with the enemy, why did you give him control of the task force? Why didn't you do anything about it before the battle?"

"That's a good question, Admiral," agreed McKenzie. "I'd like to hear an answer on that one."

"We've only just recovered that note from the Occitanians within the last hour," said Bancroft before tapping Clark on the shoulder. He gave his deputy a threatening look. "Isn't that right, Clark?"

Clark swallowed heavily and turned his face to the rest of the admirals. Noticeably though, he avoided eye contact. "That's right. I found it in his desk a little after nine o'clock. It was too late to prevent all that happened."

"Surely Henrik wouldn't be stupid enough to leave something like this in his desk though, right?" continued Kuntz. "Such a damning piece of evidence shouldn't have been anywhere close to where it could literally separate his head from his shoulders. Why would he do such a thing?"

"Why would a man betray his country?" countered Bancroft. "Why would a man willingly let his own countryman drown just for a few gold coins? These questions are in a similar vein as to yours. I can only assume that he's not thinking clearly anymore."

"It's important for us then that we get him out of control of Task Force 78 then," said Strong, looking around the room. "Before he can do anymore damage to our forces."

"Good idea, Strong," said Bancroft. "I have already requested that Henrik come ashore for a meeting with us in the morning. I phrased it in such a way as to not tip him off that we're aware of his betrayal."

"But if he really did betray us though, why would he come ashore?" asked Kuntz, now set on agitating Bancroft further. "If I were in his shoes, I'd get the hell out of the country. If the task force wouldn't follow me, then I'd make whatever arrangements I could to get to Occitanian soil. I have to assume his men wouldn't go with him but he'd truly be a fool to come back here due to the risk."

Bancroft shrugged. "I agree with you on that one, but again, we have to assume he's not thinking clearly, especially if he shows up. I want to give the emperor the chance to bring him to proper justice. The last thing I think anyone wants is for the man to escape."

Kuntz crossed his arms in front of his jacket before taking a deep breath. He fixed his eyes on Bancroft, remaining silent, but no doubt thinking the matter through.

You're smart enough to figure out the truth, thought Bancroft to himself.But too smart to accuse me of what you're thinking of.

"Nevertheless, I should like to be there when Henrik is brought in," said Kuntz finally. "I have a hard time believing he could've done this. I want to see what the man has to say for himself, especially when he has a chance to defend himself."

"As we all would, no doubt," said Bancroft gently. "I, for one, would like to know just how many Javan lives were worth all the gold that he's received. I think he owes it to us, to the emperor, and to the families of all those dead men out there to give his version of the events."

"I don't think it's as black and white as that," said Kuntz with a firm gaze. It was the most the man was willing to disagree with him publicly. It was tantamount to Kuntz telling him he was full of shit, just said with more polite words.

"You should be thankful that it is," warned Bancroft. "Otherwise, it's our heads that would roll. This meeting would've been entirely different than it is right now. Henrik will get the justice that he deserves. If the shoe was on the other foot, our lives, and then the lives of our families, would be on the chopping block. You should be thankful that it hasn't come to that. Henrik has given all of us a very convenient out."

Bancroft finished the statement with a leveled glare at Kuntz. If the man was as intelligent as Bancroft gave him credit for, he would stop his protests and his protection of Henrik. The fact of the matter was that Henrik's fate was already sealed. If Kuntz wanted to join him against the firing line, all he needed to do was keep talking.

To his credit though, Kuntz remained silent.

*****

It was only two days out from the Carinthian port when the Javan task force spotted the entrance into the Bay of Daban. In clear contrast from their first visit, the bay looked deserted, and Jack couldn't spot a single sign of any vessel, trading or warship. It was almost too quiet on the gloomy day, a sure sign of interesting things to come.

For his part, Jack watched from the bridge as the Carinthian task force of Admiral Romero's positioned itself on his starboard side. It had been decided to do this positioning for two reasons. One, Romero had the better firepower with two battleships, and the coastal battery was more powerful on the northern side of the bay. For two, Jack's men would be landing on the southern approach to Daban, meaning it was better for them to be the southern prong into the bay.

The last two days had been spent in preparation for the conflict to come. Dustin had the marines whipped into shape, even though he scarcely needed to do so. Most of them had been spoiling for a fight since Andalucia and many of them eyed the now visible coasts of Picardy with a sudden allure, ready to give battle once more.

Jack's own crew on theDestiny had been in battle-stations since just before they reached the country. The gun crews were ready and able, and all his division head officers were present on the bridge on the mighty cruiser. He also had a chance to conference with all the commanders in his task force. For this mission, theDestiny and theStardust would take center position. TheValiant would hold the flank between them and the Carinthians while theHorton took the extreme left flank. Their destroyers were out in front, and theTiger,Maddox, andWickes scouted the entrance to the bay.

"There's nothing to be seen right now," radioed Vicky Carter from theTiger. "Jack, do you want us to keep pushing into the bay?"

"Keep going as far as you can. At least until resistance is met," said Jack. "We should be coming up on the sea fortress along the southern coast within another few miles. Be on the lookout."

"Will do, Jack. Talk soon."

"Could we have picked a gloomier day to start this?" asked Abigail from his side, offering a comforting smile.

Jack chuckled. "It only seems right to go into a war with dark clouds on the horizon. And by the looks of it, there's a lot worse coming." Jack pointed off to the western sky, where the clouds had darkened significantly. There looked to be a storm approaching, and he had to wonder whether it would hit them right at the most inopportune time—when they were making their initial landing.