First in Harm's Way

Seventeen weeks since appearing

Captain Aleksey Yablokov looked over the horizon with his binoculars as he stood in the top floor of the forecastle that stood tall at the rear of the ship. The storm was typical for the late fall and early winters for these seas, with the ship rolling as it struggled to maintain its course. It was fortunate to have a nuclear-powered engine that could handle this level of turbulence, but no sailor enjoyed pushing their luck.

"How does it look on radar?" Yablokov asked.

The second officer looked at the scopes with a click of his tongue. "We've got maybe a slight lull in the winds coming, but rain pattern's consistent throughout. Changing course and speed however might have complicated matters," he admitted.

Yablokov sighed and shrugged. The coded message they had gotten didn’t give them options. He couldn’t explain it to the men, but the message basically was an alert to expect a covert rendezvous with an underwater contact for exchange of personnel and cargo, most likely for this "magical Princess" everyone was in such an uproar over. Well, the sooner that cursed package was off his boat the better, as far as he was concerned... just take those foolish SVR agents with you while you're at it...! He would be happier the moment they were off his boat. The storm was making everything hard enough as it was; once they were on their way, then perhaps he could return to his own life of predictable peace as a cargo hauler.

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Mitsuha looked out the window before turning her attention back towards the television, broadcasting the warning on the local news, that there was a storm coming... yeah... well, I figured that out, she scoffed. They had planned on taking a day trip to visit a park near their house but the weather clearly had other ideas.

"Hey Mitsuha, sorry we couldn't make the park," Tsuyoshi offered.

"Well, it's not your fault, Oniichan," Mitsuha replied. "The storm makes everything harder for everyone, I guess..."

"You know what? How about we turn this into an opportunity?" Tsuyoshi began excitedly, as he headed towards his room.

Mitsuha began to smile nervously... she had seen that look in Tsuyoshi's eyes all too often whenever he got some wild idea in his mind. She calmed down somewhat when he returned with a DVD. OK... it's just a movie... how bad could it be...?

"It's the latest action hit from the big anime studios," Tsuyoshi extolled as he switched the weather forecast to the DVD system. "A high-tech thriller with action, with spies and soldiers as they hunt down a runaway cargo ship in the high seas!"

"You... you got the name of the ship in your demo from this movie, didn't you...?" Mitsuha asked with nervous embarrassment.

"Yeah... you caught me," Tsuyoshi sheepishly confessed. "I had to come up with a large automated factory setting, so I figured... why not have some fun with it...?"

Same old Tsuyoshi-oniichan... some things never change... Mitsuha thought before settling in as the opening credits rolled. Oh well... I guess this won't be so bad... I mean... I'm here with Oniichan... and we're together again... which she took great comfort in the feeling of home and family. Just relax and enjoy it... I mean... it's not like I'm really surrounded by Russian troops... right...?

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Kobayashi grimaced as the Spetsnaz sergeant guarding him stared at him with a cold uncaring expression while one of the ship sailors brought meals for both him and Ishii. None of the guards nor sailors had demonstrated any knowledge of Japanese other than the very basics, so any attempts at tempering their attitudes with psychology were pointless. At this point, he considered himself lucky these barbarians at least had the decency to allow them bathroom privileges.

Looking up, Kobayashi counted at least a dozen soldiers in the vast main central cargo hold area that housed most of the cargo containers, including the one that they were held in, though he knew there had to be more up above on the top deck. Down below, he saw pipes, cables, and other machinery that he didn't understand that he presumed would eventually lead to the engine room, judging from the way sailors went in and out on a regular schedule.

Just then, Boris came up onto the gangplank leading to their cargo hold. Kobayashi scowled as he came up with another man with him. Boris started to speak as the second man translated to Japanese, "You'll be pleased to know that we will soon be transferring to another vessel, before heading back to Russia. Behave and you will soon be returned to your Embassy for safe return to your home land. We are only interested in the girl."

After the two Russians left, Kobayashi turned to Ishii and sighed. "I... I'm sorry you were caught up in all of this... this should have been a simple witness transfer... but... " He shook his head... he still couldn't grasp the idea that a fellow police officer could turn on him like Aosuka did.

Ishii nodded in acknowledgement as kept an eye on Mitsuha's vitals. He was generally relieved that she seemed to be responding to Dr. Sato's experimental anti-serum as her vitals had steadily begun to stabilize in the past several hours. He then spared a glance to the guards outside their cell, and waited until they were away from the entrance to the cargo container. While none of them had demonstrated any ability in Japanese, he didn't want to risk it before motioning Kobayashi closer, "We might have a chance," he whispered. "Back at the toll plaza, they took my phone, but not my work phone. I managed to get a location to Dr. Nishimura along with a description of our cargo container. Maybe they were able to call for help to rescue us," he expressed with hope.

Kobayashi shook his head and sighed. Yeah right... we're surrounded by elite Russian soldiers, and even if that weren't the case and it was just ordinary sailors... look outside young man... we're out in the middle of the Sea of Japan, in the middle of a stormy night. It would take another ship of this size to have any sort of chance to survive these seas... and only some kind of nutjob would even think about trying to fly under these conditions...

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Boy... it takes a special kind of nutjob to fly under these kinds of conditions... the Wolf Fang Captain thought to himself as he scanned the horizon and shuddered at the stormy night clouds obscuring the skies and horizon. Just ahead of the MH-60Ms they were riding in, the MC-130Js flew, trailing their probe-and-drogue lines as the helicopters each executed one of the most difficult mid-air maneuvers he could have imagined. Doing this on a calm sunny day would have been challenging enough... doing it at night in the middle of a storm... well, this was where we separate the men from the boys... and in this case, he was glad the pilots McKnight had brought with them were former Night Stalkers*; no one else would have been crazy enough to even try such a stunt... at least not if they wanted to live past 30.

* Members of the 160th SOAR, providing aviation support for USSOCOM, usually operating at nighttime operations.

Once their tanks were full, the MC-130Js and MH-60Ms each split off, each group of pilots giving the briefest of salutes and the former headed back to base and the latter group of six dropped to forty feet... so low they could almost smell the sea. Between the night and stormy skies, visibility was virtually nil, so they were flying by instruments. The Captain glanced back into the crew cabin of his helicopter; most of the men on these teams had probably ridden in such rides in the past. In the lead helicopter, Alpha's team leader, MSG Scott, a former 1st-SFOD-D* designated "Alpha-6" had chosen men who had previous careers with US or British Special Operators. Their task would be to storm the forecastle and neutralize any chance for alerting outside opposition, in particular the Akula. As such, they were equipped with short-barrel M4A1s with integral suppressors to prioritize speed, stealth and maneuverability. Two of the squad were additionally equipped with suppressed M110s to provide sniper cover for the remaining teams that would be following them in.

*1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta

In the second helicopter, WO2 Nichols, a former British Royal Marine, currently designated "Bravo-6" mentally went over the plan once again... they would be deployed at the bow of the ship, then make their way aft until they reached the vertical stair access down to the lower decks. His team had similar backgrounds as Alpha, but were equipped with SR-25 carbines firing the more powerful 7.62x51mm, as it was anticipated that they would be the ones most likely engaging with Spetsnaz GRU, who were almost certainly going to be armored. Their plan was dependent on Alpha securing the forecastle first to provide them sniper cover as they would be exposed while working their way towards the deck entry.

In the third and fourth helicopters, The Captain and SFC Michell, a former US Army 75th Ranger Regiment, designated "Charlie-6" would be bringing up the rear. Their job would be to fast rope onto the central derrick assembly and get eyes on their target cargo hold. If all went well, once Alpha and Bravo both called "secure", they would be in position to neutralize any sentries in the vicinity. If either Alpha or Bravo had run into unexpectedly heavy resistance, they were within striking range of either group within under a minute, but everyone was hoping it wouldn't come to that.

The last two choppers were configured as gunships, acting as fire support, in the event there were more Spetsnaz than previously believed or if they were carrying heavy weapons.

"Thirty seconds..." the lead pilot called out. That meant the first chopper carrying Alpha team, would execute a popup maneuver just behind the ship's stern, with the remaining five staying nap-of-the-Earth to maintain minimal radar detection. This would have to be executed quickly before anyone in the forecastle had a chance to notice the blips on radar.

MSG Scott braced himself as the helicopter pulled up into a steep climb, quickly ascending to the top of the forecastle. Almost immediately, the chopper dropped a pair of fast ropes, which were quickly followed by the first pairs of team members, sliding down rapidly, hands and legs controlling their descent. Alpha-6, along with the three other team members were the first to hit the deck, quickly assuming cover positions, in the event of any unexpected sentries, as the remaining team members slid down in rapid succession behind them and quickly grouped into pre-planned positions.

"Super 6-1, Alpha team... on the deck, taking holding pattern," the first helicopter reported as it disappeared into the night sky.

Using hand gestures, Alpha-6 motioned for the snipers to get into position, facing forward, while the lead team member quietly snaked a fiber optic spy camera over the side of the roof to peer into the forecastle command bridge. Behind him, MSG Scott watched the video, then looked back at his team and issued hand signals... four men each down both sets of stairs... two-and-two, forward corridor cover... breach on five...four...

A split second later, both doors leading into the forecastle command deck were burst open, immediately followed by flashbangs. With practiced speed and ruthless efficiency, Alpha team charged into the room, executing double-taps to anyone who hadn't immediately prostrated themselves into unconditional surrender. This was an unfortunate consequence that was discussed back before they left... they knew many of the people here would be common sailors, not soldiers. Killing them unnecessarily would be something they would try to avoid; if they gave themselves up immediately and unconditionally, they had the restraints needed to keep them detained for the duration of their mission. Any resistance or attempt to call for help however would be met with swift and final consequences.

A moment later, the team called "Clear!" across each potential threat vector, along with securing the prisoners. The team members next locked down the communications and radar stations. The navigation stations were kept at their current status; they didn't want the ship to go off course, less it become a collision hazard to other ships. Their goal was to take control of the ship, not turn it into a floating wreak. With their goals accomplished, Scott pulled up his communicator, "Alpha-6, checkpoint November is a go."

"Acknowledge, November," Bravo-6 replied as his pair of choppers along with Charlie-6 headed towards their pre-assigned destinations. November was their code word, designated the first stage was complete and radar and comms were secure, which meant it was no longer necessary to remain nap-of-the-Earth, and safe for the other choppers to deliver their teams onto the ship. Bravo's team began their fast-roping down the very front of the ship.

"Super 6-2, Bravo team... on the deck, assuming holding pattern," the helicopter reported.

They would have visual cover for the moment by the huge derrick assembly, but making it to the stairway access to the lower deck would expose them to the rest of the top deck, where Sparrow had already identified roving sentries, so Bravo-6 gather his team, concealing themselves behind the pillars, awaiting word before proceeding.

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"On target..." the first sniper confirmed.

"Target ready..." the second sniper echoed. Behind the long guns, two other members of Alpha also perched on the top of the forecastle locked onto the sentries closer to them. Their rifles weren't as precise as the dedicated M110s, but each man was an expert with their M4A1s and at a mere 100 meters, that was more than close enough. At a silent signal, all four rifles fired double-taps, dropping their targets in an instant.

"Tangos down," Alpha-6 reported, "Clear to approach."

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"Bridge, report!" Yablokov ordered on his intercom. They were scheduled to rendezvous with their underwater vessel in less than thirty minutes, but his last few calls to the bridge had gone silent. He then went to his desk and turned on a private monitor.

Unknown to his crew, who he only marginally trusted to do their duties, he had these hidden cameras installed so he could keep an eye on the bridge station from the privacy of his cabin. He had suspected that some of the less disciplined members of his crew had been slacking in their duties, and he had put them here so he could catch them in the act. Instead, he was surprised to see the bridge being held by strangers and his crew held captive.

After getting over his initial shock, he forced himself to be calm. So... there was something about this "magical Princess" after all... That explained much... the presence of his own countrymen's elite soldiers... the orders from Cardinal, along with the VLF message for an underwater rendezvous. In retrospect, it was probably inevitable the other side would make some kind of move. Looking at the video more closely, it looked like his crew was still alive but restrained, though he couldn't be certain about all of them. Small mercies... he supposed.

He considered his options... if he just hit the general alarm, those troops just might eliminate his men if he didn't have his own forces ready to counter-attack in a coordinated fashion. No... he needed to be smart about this. With that, he picked up the ship's intercom phone and punched in the lower hold extension where he knew the Spetsnaz were stationed and gave them the relevant details. Next, he activated a VLF communicator and entered the distress code to be sent to his expected contact, informing them that resistance had been encountered and to be ready.

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Charlie was last team to deploy along with the Captain, fast-roping to just below the derrick assemblies that serviced the cargo holds. With the sentries walking the surface deck dealt with, no one was watching the cranes, which would give them access to the cargo holds, including the ones they believed held their prisoners. This team was tasked to rescue the hostages. Because of that, they knew that could lead to a standoff, so while most of the team also carried suppressed M4A1s, four of the men were equipped with Barrett Mk 22 MRADs, and were among the best pure shooters Wolf Fang had fielded. They were told Blackbird was ostensively "safe" per orders from their bosses. However, if any of the Russkies tried to get cute and play "human-shield" with either the Ishii boy or Sergeant Kobayashi... well, any one of these four were members of the "Quarter-Inch Club"... meaning each one could drop five shots inside a half-inch group at two-hundred yards. If the Russkies wanted to test that theory... they were free to take their chances, but they probably wouldn't like the outcome.

Bringing up the rear, Dr. Nishimura did his best not to fall behind, with two team members of Charlie assigned to escort and protect him as they made their way down. Under normal circumstances, Wolf Fang would have simply brought a combat medic, but Nishimura had warned them that Blackbird had been dosed with a unique, and highly virulent toxin that had previously been uncategorized, but that they had been developing an experimental anti-toxin. Having been to the other world, the Wolf Fang Captain took the hint, understanding what that meant.

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On board the submarine K-157, also known as Вепрь*, Captain Alexei Sokolov turned his attention away from the navigation station as his communications officer called out from the other side of the bridge. "Captain... message on the VLF from Cardinal..." He brought a copy of the printed message over.

* Vepr / Wild Boar

Sokolov quickly read the message, crumpled the paper, then turned to the navigation station. "Helm, new course... heading one-two-zero... increase to two-thirds... make my depth forty-five meters."

"Heading one-two-zero confirmed... speed increasing to twenty-five knots..."

Sokolov then pressed the intercom, "Torpedo room, have tubes one and two loaded and standing by..." That got the immediate attention of everyone on the bridge, who were now wondering what that message said, but consciously did their best not to look like they were they were deviating from their assigned tasks. Independent thinking was still something that wasn't encouraged in the Russian Federation.

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In the main cargo hold, Spetsnaz troops quickly formed up into small tactical teams with weapons in hand. Despite the alarm notification, there was only minimal shouts, mostly to the sailors, sending them to their quarters and other secured areas with orders to seal themselves behind bulkheads until the all-clear was given. These men were all professionals; panic wasn't in their nature and they had a duty to perform. Even if there were soldiers with weapons, rifles alone wouldn't do much to a ship's bulkhead doors, so they should be safe enough, the Spetsnaz sergeant in charge considered. He seriously doubted the invading soldiers would resort to explosives to blow down doors for mere sailors... no, he had little doubt why they were here.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Bravo-6 moved his team up along the port side of the ship. There was a cursory glance at the recently dead sentries on the ground, along with a constant watch for additional, possibly unexpected resistance. They knew that they had sniper cover coming from the towering forecastle that dominated the rear of the ship, but that same structure had numerous windows facing their location; any of which could theoretically be smashed open and suddenly produce a rifle from out of nowhere.

After a tense several moments, they had reached the stairway access that led to the lower decks. McKnight had joined with Bravo-6, who would handle the reactor controls, but first they had to reach them. After an agreed upon silent signal, they cracked the hatch open, peering inside using a fiber optic feed.

"Well, that doesn't look good..." the sergeant manning the camera muttered, before showing the video to Nichols. Looking at the screen, Nichols could see these stairs were a steep vertical climb down a narrow corridor into a wide-open cargo area of gang planks across the exposed stacked cargo containers. Of greater concern, he saw at least two fire teams of soldiers behind fortified positions armed with AK-74Ms and AEK-999s waiting and pointing at their access point.

"I'd say they're on to us..." Bravo-6 said with his characteristic dry wit. "Ideas...?"

"Anywhere else, I'd say drop grenades and call it a day, " McKnight shrugged, " but they're too close to the control systems leading to the engine room... no telling what the power feedback will do. I doubt it'd actually do anything to the reactor... those things should be shielded like hell... but it could critically damage the systems that monitor and control the reaction feedback. If this were a Western reactor, I'd be less worried... we design ours to SCRAM automatically in the event of critical damage, but this being a Russkie reactor... and a really old one at that... I wouldn't guarantee that."

Yeah... no one wants another Chernobyl... Nichols thought. "Looks like we'll need a flanking attack then..."

"If Charlie could break off one of their chalks, there's a way across the ship in the secondary deck they could set up a flank, assuming they can handle the hostages with a smaller force," McKnight suggested.

____________________________________________________________________________________

"Understood Bravo," Charlie-6 replied. He designated four of the team, including one of the snipers to form a fire team, which went down the derrick staircase leading to the secondary deck. From here, they quickly and quietly made their way aft towards the cargo hold area of the ships. Once they entered, they were obscured by the towers of cargo containers stacked in rows, with only minimal passages between them, to maximize carriage space. They had left just enough to allow the sailors to make their way to the necessary control panels against the walls, doors, and other duties for day-to-day operations of the ship.

The team leader looked down the central corridor carefully... all these stacked cargo containers in such a narrow gap, it screamed "bottleneck". If it were just them entering a hostile space, he'd consider it near-suicide to walk through that corridor... they would need to time this perfectly. "Bravo-6, Charlie-5, we're just below you to your nine o'clock."

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"Roger that... standby for a distraction in five seconds..." Bravo-6 acknowledged before turning to McKnight and the nearest two men behind him. They readied flash bangs and with a simultaneous nod, dropped all four into the stairway leading down into the cargo deck.

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Charlie team averted their eyes and shielded their ears, having been warned what was coming, but the Spetsnaz soldiers didn't have that luxury. Once the flash bangs detonated, Charlie team charged through the gap, weapons at low ready, taking what cover they could from behind the support columns, and quickly took aim.

The Spetsnaz soldiers shouted and cursed as they ducked behind their covers, redirecting their weapons towards the new threat. Seizing the opening, Bravo-6 and his team opened the hatch from above, dropping down the steep staircase as swiftly as possible, allowing the loud sounds of combat to cover their approach, using the gangplank as cover take taking advantage of their elevated position to set up a cross fire on their entrenched positions.

All three parties began exchanging bursts of automatic fire, with the Russians using their AK-74Ms to send aimed fire towards Charlie team, while using their AEK-999s to provide suppressive fire towards Bravo. McKnight noted that the bursts weren't the wild undisciplined kinds one would see from regulars, but done with purpose. That told him immediately they were dealing with pros... men who had been under fire before and weren't going to lose their composure easily. "Watch for a flanking attack!" he warned his team... standard squad tactics; use suppressive fire to keep the enemy pinned down, then send shooters around to flank the enemy.

" Ёб твою мать!*" the lead Spetsnaz soldier shouted as he fired another burst that landed just inches from Bravo team's positions, ricocheting and sending shrapnel in their direction, inflicting some minor injuries and forcing some of the squad to fall back behind cover.

* Yob tvoyu mat / Fuck your mother!

To the Russian's flank, Charlie tried to press forward but their smaller numbers and the Russian's cover was too well fortified. It looked like they were prepared to dig in and force us to come to them. Engineering was on the deck below them, but there was no way for us to reach it, so long as they were positioned there.

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Mitsuha's mind drifted as the sound of rapid fire echoed in her mind, along with the shouts like "Yob tvoyu mat" or "Chert voz'mi*" or something like that... and for some strange reason... she could understand it... was that... Russian...? I've never taken any foreign language classes before... I barely passed the required English in high school! Tsuyoshi's movie had its usual share of shoot outs but she was hearing these go on, even while the movie's lead was trying to romance the pretty girl... why am I still hearing gunfire during the cheesy romance scenes...? And why am I hearing Russian when the story is taking place on a Japanese ship?

* God damn it

"Are you OK, Mitsuha?" Tsuyoshi asked, as he noticed her distracted expression.

"I... " Mitsuha trailed off and clutched her head. Tsuyoshi looked at her with concern and stopped the movie.

"Hey there, what's wrong? You can tell me... we've always been able to talk to each other... It's been a few years since we've been together, but that's still not changed... just like when we were kids..."

Just like when we were kids... Mitsuha froze at those words as she looked at Tsuyoshi again. He's right... it's been a few years... I've been in the big city, about to become a full lawyer... Tsuyoshi's been promoted to section head of his own department. I'm 27... he's almost 30... and yet...his face... She looked back at the kitchen wall... that stain... it was there the last year of high school... why was it still there...? Okaasan would never have just left it there...

She stood up and with an unsteady stride headed towards the exit of the house, leaving Tsuyoshi with a dumbfounded expression.

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On the other side of the cargo hold, the remaining members of Charlie team lead by Charlie-6 and the Captain used the noise of the battle as a distraction, working their way down to the gangplank that provided a walkway above the stacks of cargo containers around the perimeter of the ship. Behind them, Nishimura did his best to keep quiet and not be a distraction to the team.

In front, Charlie-6 pulled out a telescopic range finder from one of the team's snipers and scanned the cargo containers ahead of them in the forward section of the ship where they had been told to expect, focusing on the grey containers, reading off the serial numbers. After a few minutes, he handed the range finder back to the soldier and pointed to the container in question. "Take a look..."

The Captain pulled up a pair of binoculars, scanning the container, then the surrounding area. "Two guys... left and right of the entrance... wait a minute..." He took another moment to look more carefully, as the soldiers moved in a pattern. "They've got a guy inside..."

"Yeah... might be awkward trying to get a bead on that one..." Charlie-6 looked around the area and reviewed the situation, then gestured towards his men, positioning his snipers in key positions to get optimal shots on the outer guards, then the third shooter positioned to just at the edge of the door, in anticipation that the soldier would hopefully make a mistake. That left only three with him, as he turned towards the Captain.

"Yeah, I got the Doc," the Captain reassured the others. "Kick ass... go save our girl."

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Back onboard K-157, Captain Sokolov ordered, "Conn, sonar, report all contacts..."

"My only contact is Cardinal," the sonar station reported.

"Bring us to periscope depth..." as Sokolov took control of the viewing scope and scanned the surface. He sighed in frustration as he quickly realized there was little to see visually with the dark stormy night rendering the scope nearly useless. Were it not for the Kuzma Minin's running lights, he would have almost missed even seeing that huge behemoth. Fortunately, coming up to periscope depth allowed the sub to bring their radar online.

"Multiple contacts, Captain...! Helicopters surrounding Cardinal in low patrol patterns!"

"Surface the ship... bring surface-to-air missiles online... "

____________________________________________________________________________________

Shit...! the pilots of Super 6-2 abruptly saw their RWR* alerts light up and begin flashing and blaring. "Super 6-2... Spike nine o'clock!" as he pulled his helicopter hard to the left. In the sky, the other five helicopters also immediately began evasive actions.

* Radar Warning Receiver

From out of the dark seas, the flash of a rocket exhaust could be seen as the helicopter unloaded a stream of flares from outer weapon pods while at the same time executing evasive maneuvers, tilting away from the streams of flares, with the hope that the decoys would attract the warhead seeker. However, the warhead's multiple sensors screened off the decoys, homing in on the MH-60M's vulnerable tail rotor and exploded, shredding it beyond repair.

"We're hit... tail rotor's gone... we're going down..." as Super 6-2 began to spin uncontrollably in the high winds, as the other five helicopters could only look on helplessly while gaining distance from the submarine's last known location.

"Command, Super 6-1... Super 6-2 is down is... say again... Super 6-2 is down..."