The Soldier

“I was wondering when you would show up, Mr. Logan, thought you might have gotten yourself lost, though I believe your record indicates you’ve actually served on freighters before.”

Logan swallowed and walked up to the Chief Engineer.

“Sorry Mr. Jackson, won’t happen again. I just didn’t allow myself enough time and, well, got myself turned around a bit. This ship is quite a bit larger than my last posting.”

Seth Jackson looked up at Logan for just a second or two before returning his attention to the view screens and monitors at the front of the windowless room deep inside the freighter. “See that it doesn’t. Take your station.”

“Aye sir,” Logan said meekly, and went to a vacant computer station, taking a moment to note where Willie and David were sitting but not acknowledging either of his friends.

Each of the men in the engineering section was responsible for monitoring a subset of the huge ship’s systems. Logan’s screen was filled with readouts of temperatures and pressures from the smaller thrusters that were used mainly during docking maneuvers. The thrusters worked by tapping thrust from the main mag drive to nudge the ship towards or away from a pier. It occurred to Logan that most of the voyage would be very quiet, at least as far as his assigned area was concerned.

“Alright lads, systems check. Are we ready to rock and roll?” Jackson asked.

“Thrusters online,” Logan said.

“Main Drives on standby, all systems green and go,” Willie said from at his station across the room. The other crewman reported their specific areas were ready to go as well.

A chime sounded and the captain’s voice came over the comm.

“Engineering, report.”

“All systems show green, main drives and maneuvering systems at your command, Captain,” Jackson responded.

“Acknowledged, bridge out.”

Jackson walked over to Willie’s station.

“Let’s bring the mains to 20 percent. That should give Mr. Logan’s thrusters maneuvering jets plenty to work with.”

The freighter’s drive used controlled magnetic fields to accelerate sea water through large chambers that ran the length of the ship. The accelerated water shot out the rear of the ship through a series of jet-like ports. These water jets provided both thrust and steering when underway. The strength of the magnetic field directly determined the rate of flow of the water through the propulsion system, both the main drive and the maneuvering thrusters.

“Magnetic field at 20 percent strength, outer doors are open,” Willie said.

“Very good Mr. Alonso,” Jackson said as he punched the comm panel. “Engineering to bridge. Main drive ready at your command, Captain.”

“Thrusters functioning normally, we are moving away from dock,” Logan said as he saw on his monitor that the thrusters were working to move the giant ship.

Using one of his two computer screens as a video monitor, Logan watched as the ship continued to move away from the dock. As the bow of the ship moved past the southern shore of the channel to open water, the comm came to life.

“Helm, main drive at 25 percent. Port thrusters to 50 percent, starboard to 10 percent. Set course to 35 degrees.”

Logan felt a slight pull to the rear as the drives began to shove the giant ship forward. From what Logan knew of these massive freighters, the captain did not have to give the commands or go through the motions of navigating his ship out of dock – the computers could handle the entire process. While he continued to monitor his assigned systems, Jackson walked over as if checking on him.

“Can I ask you something, Mr. Jackson?”

“Of course, Mr. Logan.”

“I’ve never worked on a Masada class before, but my understanding is the computers can do everything,” Logan said.

“So you want to know why the captain is giving orders and helm headings and such, right.”

“Well, yes sir,” Logan replied.

Jackson laughed.

“Clifford is a bit of an eccentric,” Jackson said. “He claims to not trust the computers in port and insists on taking the ship out himself.

“But the truth is, even though the crew up there are punching in the numbers, the computer is double checking everything,” he said. “As long as the captain is ordering headings within a reasonable range of what the computer thinks, it will go along with him. But the computer has the final say-so.”

Logan laughed, thinking that he would probably like the captain.

Several hours later, the Morning Star was in the open ocean and Logan was off duty, with eight hours until he had to report for his permanent duty on Bravo Shift, the middle of the three. Logan was sitting at the small desk in the cabin studying the ship operational manual when Caitlin returned from her visit to the bridge.

“Shouldn’t you be getting lunch together?”

“We have a problem,” she said in a low voice after she had closed the door.

“This mission is full of problems, to which problem are you specifically referring?”

“Where do you expect to be when the ship docks in America? “Caitlin asked.

“In engineering I suppose, why do you ask?”

“Because that’s not where you will be,” Caitlin said. “You and I and the entire crew will be locked in our cabins.”

Caitlin smiled grimly as she watched as shocked realization crept onto Logan’s face.

“The docking and offloading of cargo in America is completely under computer control from the American side. The American’s, from what I’ve been told, are more than a wee bit compulsive about preventing anyone from the outside world getting in – so we all get locked up like naughty schoolchildren.”

“Well isn’t this a bit of a sticky wicket?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Caitlin said. “What are we going to do?”

Logan stood, walked over to the bulkhead and looked out the porthole. He stood silent for a few moments.

“Logan?” Caitlin asked tentatively, concerned that Logan was having another of his flashbacks.

He turned around and smiled at her. “Still here. Actually I think being ‘back in action’ so to speak is good for me. But first things first.

“We need to find out where our crate is and get our gear into our cabins.”

“That won’t work,” Caitlin said. “I checked the rosters. Willie and David are not bunking together, so I doubt we can safely store anything in their quarters.

“And I don’t think,” she said sweeping her hand around the room, “That we will be able to cram much of it into this room.”

“Agreed,” Logan said, then suddenly realizing.

“Wait, you checked the rosters? You have a computer terminal you can use unobserved?”

“Yes, in the galley. I don’t have much access at the moment, but I might be able to do something about that. I really doubt the designers expected to have a Cook on board who could also hack her way into the rest of the system.”

“Well, that’s a bit of good news, at least,” Logan said. “So we will have to find places on board ship where we can stash the gear until we need it. Someplace fairly out of the way so it hopefully won’t have our shipmates stumbling across it before we are ready for it.

“You will need to be as quick as you can. The entire transit only takes about a week and we need to be ready at least a day in advance of our arrival.”

“What do you want me to look for?”

“One, the location of our crate, two, any unused cargo space that we could appropriate to inconspicuously store our gear. And finally, some way to keep us from being locked in our cabins once we cross the Pond.

“I’m on it,” Caitlin said. “On another note, any requests for lunch?”

“At this point, I truly don’t care,” Logan said.

“Well, no complaints then,” she said trying to be cheerful, then she left the cabin.

By the time Logan found his way to the mess hall, it was way past lunchtime. Caitlin looked up as he walked in.

“Well, it’s about time, Mr. Logan, I was beginning to think you don’t like my cooking.”

“How would I know if I like your cooking or not,” Logan replied, “As I haven’t had the first opportunity to sample your cuisine.”

He looked around.

“Speaking of which, I know it’s late but is there anything left from lunch, or am I stuck until dinner?”

Caitlin chuckled. “None of lunch left, but I can probably find something to whip into a sandwich for you.”

“Thanks,” Logan said. “And just call me Logan, most everyone else does.”

“OK, Logan it is.”

Logan took a seat at one of the tables. After a few minutes Caitlin came over and placed a plate in front of him containing a roast beef sandwich and some potato chips. She put an iced tea in front of him and sat down.

Logan shook some pepper on the sandwich and then nearly tore it in half with his first bite.

“Hm, not bad. First time I’ve had a chance to eat since I came on board this morning.”

He fixed Caitlin in the eye and then deliberately looked around the room.

“Don’t worry, it’s clean,” Caitlin said in a low voice. “I mean as far as bugs of the electronic kind are concerned.

“We just need to keep our eyes open. I don’t think it would be a good idea for anyone to see us talking on a regular basis.” Logan said. “Have you been able to find our cargo?”

“I think so. All of the manifests I was able to get at initially only referenced the containers by ID numbers, so I had to dig a little deeper in order to find the database that cross-referenced the ID numbers to client names.

“Our container is, unfortunately, in a fairly well-traveled portion of the cargo area, meaning it won’t be easy for us to get to it without being noticed. But there is good news.”

“And that would be what?” Logan said as a dark look spread over his face.

“If we can get our crate, I found a place to put it,” Caitlin said.

“Well, that’s promising.”

“Two decks down from where our equipment is, there’s a refrigerated compartment,” Caitlin said. “It’s basically an emergency storage area for ships stores or any cargo in a container that has the cooling system go out.

“Apparently they move the cargo around until one of you guys can repair the cooling system in the original container,” she said. “Then they put it all back.”

“So,” Logan said, “just so I’m clear.”

“Our gear isn’t easily accessible. And if we can get to it, the only place we can store it might be discovered if the A/C on one of the containers on the ship goes on the fritz. Does that sum it up?”

Caitlin nodded.

“Grand,” Logan said, as he noticed someone walk into the galley. “I think you best be getting back to work Ms. Anderson.”

Caitlin stood, pretending to be cleaning tables, then turned to the newcomer.

“What can I get for you?”

“Got any coffee?” the man asked.

Caitlin walked over to the coffee urn on the far wall and checked the readouts.

“Just finished brewing, Fritz, help yourself.”

Fritz Hammergalt was the Star’s first officer, Clifford’s right-hand man. He stood just under 6 feet. Except for a slightly bulging midsection, he looked to be in good shape. His hair was a light brown tinged with a few strands of gray.

“Sorry I missed lunch, Seth said it was fantastic,” he said.

“Well, I’m glad she liked it,” Caitlin said. “Hopefully I’ll be able to do as well for dinner.”

Fritz picked up a coffee cup and placed it under the dispenser. The coffee began to flow, but suddenly sloshed over the edge as the ship lurched up.

“What the hell?” Fritz said as he grabbed a table to keep from being knocked down.

Fritz put the now-empty cup down and went over to a comm panel.

“Fritz to bridge, what just happened?”

“We just got hit by a huge swell that came out of nowhere,” came David’s voice over the comm system.

“That’s a tad strange,” Fritz said. “What’s the weather computer say?”

“Checking.”

There was a short pause.

“We may have a problem.”

“What?”

“Hurricane Jorge has taken a sudden turn i,” David said. “It’s heading right towards us.”

“Can we out run it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“OK, let start getting ready.”

Fritz pushed the comm button twice.

“Ship wide.”

The panel beeped.

“This is Fritz. That bloody hurricane has turned in our direction and we can’t outrun it so we have to get ready. All hands report to duty stations and begin Hurricane Protocol Alpha. Captain to the Bridge.”

Fritz turned the comm off. He took the filled coffee cup Caitlin offered him.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile. “Since this is your first time, do you know what to do?”

“I’ll get the procedure up on my screen, I think I’ll be able to figure it out.”

“Prepping the galley isn’t difficult,” Fritz said. “Basically make sure everything is stowed in a cabinet or drawer and that everything that could pop open in rough weather is tied shut. If you need any help just get me on the bridge and I’ll try to free someone up.”

“Thanks,” Caitlin started to say, but he was already out the door and headed for the bridge.

The Morning Star was two days out of Southampton making 18 knots due west. Normally at this point, the ship would turn to a southwesterly heading to Charleston in about eight days. Most weather systems the ship could handle without breaking stride, she was large enough to ride out most of what Mother Nature could throw at her. But Jorge was different, an unusually strong a Category Five storm with sustained winds of more than 250 kilometers per hour -- strong enough to even give the Star a bit of trouble.

Logan was at his station when the Chief Engineer walked into the room.

“Report?”

“All systems nominal,” Logan said after the other men had reported similarly, then he turned to look at Jackson. “Can’t we just hightail it to the nearest port?

“No, lad, we’re too far out,” The chief engineer said. “And we’re actually safer at sea where we can point our nose into the winds and swells.

“Have you ever surfed?”

The question caught Logan by surprise.

“Myself, no, but I’ve watched the lads on TV from Australia a time or two,” He said.

“OK, you ever notice how they get out beyond the breaker line to catch waves?”

Logan shook his head no.

“Well, they don’t go at an angle, do they?”

“OK, so, what’s the point?”

“The point is, they go straight into the waves, diving underneath them if they have to, right?”

Logan thought.

“That’s well enough for one bloke one a surfboard, but again what does that have to do with us?”

“We’re going to do the same thing,” Jackson said. “We’ll point our nose into the wind, which should be the direction of the waves, and just drive ahead and full thrust.

“We’ll break through most of the waves and maybe nose under a few. That’s why everything topside has to be completely secured, and that’s what we will be working our butts off doing for the next 20 hours.”

Jackson eyed Logan suspiciously.

“Are you sure you’ve worked these big ships before? This is pretty standard procedure for handling a big storm.”

Logan felt a knot begin to grow in his stomach as he realized he had slipped up. He struggled to cover.

“OK, guilt,” he said laughing, hoping he was coming across as friendly. “I may have exaggerated just a bit on my application.

“Truth is, none of my previous ships were not quite this large, and they operated further north so we didn’t deal with the hurricanes that often, just normal North Sea stuff.”

Jackson gave him an odd look that Logan didn’t particularly like.

“Well, it’s true that the smaller ships may try to make for port if at all possible,” he allowed, “But still, you need to make sure you’re up to speed on all the appropriate procedures.”

“Already done,” Logan said. “As soon as the Fritz made his announcement, I called up the protocols and refreshed my memory.”

“Good, because I’m going to need you up on deck in 30 minutes,” Jackson said.

“I’ll be up in 20,” Logan said to Jackson’s retreating back.

Logan took another 10 minutes to finish reading the Hurricane Protocols. As he closed the file and went to get his waterproof jacket from the closet, he offered a small prayer of thanks for being blessed with a photographic memory that allowed him to memorize the procedures in a single reading.

Even though the hurricane was still 500 kilometers away, the wind on deck was already blowing at a nearly 100 kilometers per hour. The deck rocked and pitched as the huge freighter fought her way through the growing swells. Without the weather, the task would be simple -- proceed from fore to aft and recheck all mounts to make sure they were secure, then attach extra restraining cables to each stack of containers.

Each cable was made of braided titanium alloy attached directly to the deck and then tightened as much as possible.

Logan happened to be teamed with Willie and they worked silently down the ship, checking all the container stacks in Charlie row. Logan used a scanner that checked the deck mounts for proper alignment as well as any signs of fatigue or shear. The entire process of scanning the attachments and attaching the extra restraining cables took about 35 minutes for each stack of containers.

As the men continued their work, the ship and the storm were drawing closer to each other, with the result of the weather on deck continuing to deteriorate to the point that Logan and Willie had to nearly haul themselves from stack to stack.

Suddenly a huge wave broke over the side of the ship, catching Willie by surprise and knocking him off his feet. He started to slide down the deck but was able to catch hold of one of the restraining cables they had just installed.

“Careful, lad,” Logan said as he helped Willie to his feet.

Willie grunted his thanks as he regained his footing and the two finished installing the cable before moving on to the next stack of containers.

The next five stacks went without incident, and Willie and Logan were approaching the end of their assigned row. The winds continued to strengthen and the pair were regularly drenched as waves broke over the ship.

“Man Overboard!” In the wind the source of the shout was not clear and Logan and Willie looked at each other for a fraction of a second. Then the ships alarm began to sound, a piercing whistle barely audible over the roar of the wind.

“Port side, I think,” Logan shouted as he began to move across the ship.

The two men found most of the crew peering over the rail into the dark churning waves.

Logan thought he could feel the ship lurch as the engines slowed.

“This is not a good,” Logan said to Willie. “We’re in for a real battering if we stay still. Whoever that was is as good as dead in this weather.”

“The captain says he can only give us a few minutes before he has to resume course, now move!” Reginald Smythe shouted as he shoved men to get them going. The Star’s first officer was a short but powerful man with close-cut red hair. He moved away from the comm panel and began looking into the water. “Are we sure Ozzie fell on this side?”

Oscar “Ozzie” Kenwood was another of the ship’s crewman who Logan actually knew by name. The two had talked on several occasions and they were starting to form a friendship.

Logan took a spot on the rail and looked but couldn’t see anything in the inky black. After what seemed like an eternity, Logan felt the deck plates. It was clear the captain felt he couldn’t wait any longer and was restarting the drives to allow the Star to continue attempting to plow her way through the waves.

“That’s it, he’s gone then,” said Billy McAllister, a cargo hand.

“Wait, there he is!”

The shout came from the bow. Logan and several crewman ran forward as best they could against the gale-force winds that tried to drive them backward.

“Where?” Logan demanded as he reached the crewman.

“There,” Billie said, pointing nearly directly ahead. “Five points starboard.”

Logan looked but, couldn’t see anything. Then he thought he spotted a flash of white against the dark.

“Got him!” he yelled. “Get me a lifeline!”

Just as someone handed Logan a rope with a life preserver attached, a sudden gust of wind buffeted the Star, forcing her bow directly towards Kenwood.

“Shit!” Logan said as he hurled the life preserver and rope out towards the sailor. The life saving device landed way short of the man, who was now clearly visible.

“Give it minute or two,” said McAllister. “Now that we’re moving, he’s coming closer.”

“True, but I don’t know how long he can last, he looks pretty beat up,” Logan said as he prepared to toss the ring again. “And he’d be getting dangerously close to the Mag Drive water intakes, wouldn’t he?”

The man’s face fell as he saw what Logan meant and ran for the comm panel.

As Smythe ran off, Logan tossed the life ring again, getting it no closer to the now clearly floundering Kenwood. Logan quickly pulled the ring in to prepare for another toss.

“Where is he?” Logan yelled.

“There!”

Logan looked and saw Kenwood, who had drifted dangerously close to the ship. Logan could still feel the vibration of the drive through his boots. “We’re out of time.”

Logan put the life preserver over his head and coiled up the rope. “You make sure you hold onto that, lad, I’m counting on you.”

“No, Logan, you can’t,” McAllister said.

Logan smiled. “We’re not losing him, not on my watch, not again.”

Before the McAllister could say anything else, or ask him what he meant by ‘not again,’ Logan jumped.

Logan plunged into the water feet-first, and the cold hit him like a thousand angry, biting insects. One strong stroke brought Logan to the surface, but he was immediately covered by a crashing wave. He again struggled to the surface, caught site of the Star and used it to get his bearings. The former British Marine began to swim with all his might in the direction he hoped he would find the lost sailor, knowing full well that if he were unsuccessful, the Morning Star could end up with two lost crew members instead of one.

Fortunately, luck was with Logan as the faltering Kenwood came into view after only a few minutes. He moved to the man’s side and placed the ring over his head. “Hold tight to the ring, lad, let me do the work.”

Kenwood wiped sea water from his face. “Are you daft? Now we’re both going to die.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Logan said using a tone he had used countless times to his men in the Royal Marines. “Now just hold on.”

Logan took the safety line and fashioned a loop he could put around his waist so he could have the use of both of his arms. Then he started swimming with strong, confidant strokes, pulling the two men back along the path he came but getting no closer to the massive vessel.

“Wait, why aren’t you taking us back?”

“Because we first have to get past the drive intakes,” Logan said calmly, understanding the man’s panic. “One minute should do it then we’ll head in.”

Logan was counting on his own swimming and the fact that the Star was probably still under drive. He was also counting on the men holding onto the other end of the safety line to understand what he was doing and not pull them in too quickly.

Several minutes later Logan felt a tug on the line. “Guess we’re OK, then,” he said and he started stroking towards the ship. Waves continued to crash over both men as the hull of the freighter drew closer.

“How are we going to get back on,” Kenwood asked. His voice was weak as the cold water drew whatever remaining energy he had from him.

“I’m sure they’ll lower. ” Logan’s stopped as the safety line suddenly went slack and he could feel the two men being pulled away from the ship by the waves.

“Shit,” he said as he began to swim hard towards the ship, while looking for the men onboard to thrown another line, or something. But all he saw was the dark hull of the Morning Star moving past him.

“The line broke,” McAllister shouted. “Now what?”

Willie thought and then began to run towards the rear of the ship. He reached one of cranes on the rear cargo deck which were locked down for the voyage.

“You can’t use that, it’s locked down, no power to it per protocol,” McAllister said as he ran up.

Willie swung into the control seat. “We’ll see about that, get me some safety netting.”

The crewman nodded and ran off while Willie touched the control panel, which of course remained dark. “Never had to hotwire a crane before,” he said as he began to look for the power supply leads. But before he could find what he was looking for the crane came to life and the comm panel lit up.

“Unless I miss my guess, this could be of some use to you, Mr. Alonso.”

Willie thumbed the comm. “Aye, captain, how’d you know?”

“A little bit of logic, oh and seeing you running astern on the surveillance camera. Also, drives are at a minimum so we can keep our nose into the wind and the waves, but if you don’t get them soon . . .”

“Understood, captain,” Willie said grimly as McAllister ran up with the safety netting. He made a mental note about the cameras.

“Get that attached to the end of the crane, just put the loops over the hook,” Willie shouted as he lowered the crane hook towards the deck. McAllister quickly got the netting attached. Willie then lifted the crane, swung it over the side and then dropped it into the churning waters.

“Can you see them?”

“No,” McAllister shouted over the wind as he peered over the side.

“Just make sure you don’t fall over, lad,” Willie said, “don’t want to have a third in the water.”

“How long?”

Willie knew what he meant. “Not long, the captain has slowed us a bit but were still under power. Maybe a minute, maybe two.”

Willie kept glancing down at the load monitor in the cabin, hoping it would show an increase in weight on the crane that would indicate Logan had been able to find the safety net in the dark. It was constantly moving from the drag of the ocean water. But suddenly it seemed to jump just a bit more. Willie hit the controls to raise the crane.

“Do you have them?”

“If I don’t, we’re not going to get them,” Willie said as the crane motor whirred, seeming to struggle under a load. The men watched as it slowly moved past them. They collectively let out their held breaths when Logan and Kenwood rose above the level of the deck

Willie smiled slightly as he pivoted the crane over the deck and lowered it so McAlister could pull them aboard.

“Quick thinking, old man,” Logan said clasping Willie on the shoulder.

“Thank you,” Kenwood said simply.

McCallister walked up.

“Good job, Logan, Willie,” he said. “Are we all secure up here?”

Willie nodded.

“Right, then we all best get below. Logan, I expect they need you in engineering.”

“Aye, sir,” Logan said, then he looked at Willie. He could tell by the expression on his face that he had some news to share. They would talk later.