The Atlantic Express
by: justjames17
(Copyright 2004 -2007 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
 

Chapter 50

The moonless warm tropical night hid the surrounding sea from the eager eyes peering through their powerful glasses searching for trouble, unseen the stealthy submarine lurked, its torpedo tubes open and ready to send their harbingers of death on the way to kill the unsuspecting British destroyer. The Japanese captain's lips curled in triumph as he prepared to order the missiles fires, Charles on the Foxhound's bridge felt his hackles rise on the back of his neck, he too was blinded by the darkness but his sixth sense was aroused by the knowledge that the enemy could be nearby. Foxhound ploughed on accompanied by the patrol boat, Charles has a feeling that they were under surveillance he turned his head and ordered, "Steer 270."

The helmsman below spun the wheel and Foxhound's bow began to swing as the Japanese captain ordered, "Fire one, fire two."

The huge sub bucked a little as the compressed air forced the torpedoes from her tubes in a huge gout of bubbles, the long sleek missiles raced to freedom on their short lived way to kill the enemy ship. Foxhound's speed caused her to heel over and skid her stern about as the huge rudder turned hard over, her propellers thrashed in the turbulence as she turned, the two torpedoes raced towards her at 40 knots, their propellers spun leaving two white disturbed tracks on the surface behind them. Time seemed to stand still, as the distance between the three closed rapidly, the destroyer's long hull presented a target to the racing missiles. The distance closed at a combined speed of over 70 knots, Foxhound's bow swung to point unknowingly towards the enemy as Charles ordered the wheel midships, the coxswain spun the wheel back steering 270 and the destroyer steadied on her new course as the two racing missiles sped towards her.

The frothing tracks raced on towards the fast moving ship and coursed by her close on each side of her slicing bow, on the sub the sonar operator called to the captain that the destroyer was changing course. The captain raged within himself at the cursed luck of the British ship, he peered through the periscope to see the twin white arcs of water on each side of Foxhound's bow as the destroyer neared her foe. He ordered, "Dive, Dive, Dive."

The roar of air being driven from her ballast tanks filled her hull as the ports opened sucking water into her tanks as she began to dive into the depths, Foxhound raced closer her sharp bow knifing through the flat sea as she followed the faint fast dissipating tracks from the torpedoes. The Japanese captain ordered a change of course trying to escape the threat but too late the monstrous heavy hull, slow to respond, began to swing as the sound of the approaching ship's propellers filled their senses. The thrashing throbbing filled the hull as one and all looked at the cork covered dripping overhead as if they could see the ship above them, a huge crunching rending sound of steel on steel rang through the hull as Foxhound's bow smashed into the very top of the conning tower causing the sub to heel over tossing the crew about like puppets.

The grinding screaming of steel on steel shook both vessels as the destroyer's hull ground along the slanted conning tower as water spurted through the seams where the impact had occurred, her aerials and periscope ripped away opening new avenues for the eager water to access as the control room was sprayed with sea water, like fire hoses, adding to the turmoil amongst the crew still sprawled about the decks. Foxhound passed on as the sub rolled upright again rocking from side to side still diving deeper under the influence of the flooding ballast tanks. The deeper she sank the stronger the influx of water as her captain struggled to his feet looking like a drowned rat, his uniform moulded to his slim fit body, he screamed to belay the dive and surface.

The operators of the ballast controls dragged themselves to the feet and began reversing the levers, compressed air was pumped in to empty the tanks. The dive slowed at 150 feet and slowly the huge steel sub began to climb back towards the surface as the captain ordered the guns' crews to be ready to man their weapons. Charles was thrown forward against the windbreak as Foxhound hit the submarine; he recovered himself and ordered action stations as he turned the racing destroyer back towards the impact point. He saw the surface roiling and the dark shape emerging from the inky depths, the enemy was going to fight it out on the surface and Charles ordered the gunnery officer to illuminate the target. The gunner ordered A gun to load one round star shell, A gun loaded and fired, the shell travelling high above before bursting and releasing the huge flare that swung about under its parachute lighting the scene.

Charles studied the emerging shape and saw the crumpled mess of the upper conning tower as heads appeared there. Charles ordered the guns to open fire as more and more of the massive enemy craft reared into view like some huge denizen of the deep, the main deck of the sub appeared and the hatch opened as the gun crew raced for the single main gun, while machine guns on the bridge began spitting fire, the rounds ricocheting from the steel plates of the destroyer. The bridge crew ducked for cover as the guns sprayed the area shattering the glass screen and showering them with shards of glass.

Charles ordered all guns to fire and Foxhound shook as her main armament began shelling the surfaced enemy, the destroyer's close range anti aircraft weapons peppered the sub killing the exposed gun crew before they could open fire while the bofors pounded the conning tower forcing the crew there to duck for cover. The first shells landed all about the wallowing whale like submarine raising plumes of water, while the lighter weapons rounds sparked ricocheting and exploded on the wet shining steel. A second crew made an effort to close up the main gun just as a 4inch shell struck the heavy base of the gun, the explosion set off the ready use lockers and the shells therein erupted in a massive explosion obliterating the gun and crew in the blast.

The submarine now virtually defenceless turned bow on to the destroyer and ran at full speed attempting to ram her enemy, Charles manoeuvred adroitly spinning Foxhound away but keeping her guns bearing on the stricken sub. Shell after shell hit the enemy opening her hull to the sea as she ploughed on presenting her stern to the destroyer. The captain ordered her rear tubes to fire and two torpedoes leapt free heading towards the destroyer, Charles close enough to spot the disturbance at her stern altered course to dodge the speedy missiles and they sped past into the night. Foxhound's shells now peppering the sub's fragile stern soon destroyed her propellers, shafts and jammed the steering; the sub unable to manoeuvre began to turn in a circle as Foxhound continued pummelling her huge hull.

Several shells penetrated the 115foot hanger where they found the fragile aircraft and started a high-octane fuel fire, the sub turning uncontrolled with fire belching from the rent hanger was now lit up and easy to fire upon as the flare burnt out; shell after shell landed on and inside her hull reducing her to a smoking burning wreck until she slowly began filling with water from her shattered stern, slowly the stern sank lower and lower as her bows lifted skywards. Charles ordered the guns to cease-fire as they watched the Sub's death throes; figures scrambled from her rent-burning hull and began leaping from the slanting deck to splash down and swim frantically away from the sinking vessel afraid of her sucking them down in her death dive.

The huge hull stood vertically pointing to the heavens dwarfing the destroyer as it began to slide backwards beneath the black oily surface, the crew watched in silence as their target raced to oblivion in the depths leaving a turgid sea covered in fuel oil and wreckage with a number of swimmers coughing and puking as they swallowed the corrosive oil. Charles closed the mess and lowered scrambling nets to allow the enemy sailors to climb aboard, some swam away refusing aid but a few climbed dripping from the fouled water to collapse retching on the deck watched over by the armed seaman awaiting them. A scream filled their ears as they saw a swimmer lifted partially from the water and shaken like a dog shakes a rat as the man beat the water with his fists trying to drive away the flesh-crunching shark. The man's struggles weakened as the shark tore away his legs leaving the bleeding torso still alive floundering weakly with his entrails floating out about his dying body, several of the recalcitrant swimmers seeing their shipmate torn apart so terribly turned about stroking frantically towards the ship only to be attacked by the hungry predators attracted by the sounds of the battle.

Sharp teeth sank into muscle and flesh tearing them apart as sometimes three ravenous sharks attacked one swimmer, pitiful screams sending shivers through the helpless watchers. The oily water now tinged with crimson from the mutilated remnants of the enemy seamen as the sharks feasted, the last couple of swimmers scrambled from the water the whites of their eyes standing out against their dark oil covered bodies as they lay shaking in fear while vomiting the contents of their stomachs up as the burning diesel fuel ate away inside them. Charles came down from the bridge to check out the prisoners, their uniforms unidentifiable due to the oil. Those vomiting and in great need of help were carted away down to the small sick bay where they were treated as best they could with the limited knowledge of the able seaman sick berth attendant and the limited facilities available.

The remaining healthier prisoners were given soap and hosed down on deck to help remove the stinking diesel sludge; their sodden befouled uniforms were removed and tossed overboard leaving them naked and exposed to the larger British seamen who were laughing at their smaller skinny captives. Charles watched the shivering cowed prisoners and was attracted to their slim ivory bodies and wet jet black pubes about their soft shrunken genitals, he admired the fine boned builds of these Asian young men. He was totally confounded by the attitude of the airmen, who machine-gunned the men in the in the water, compared to these scared shivering naked young lads. Some of Foxhounds men were muttering amongst themselves about dealing harshly with these murdering arse holes and Charles had to interfere ordering that the Japanese were to be treated as prisoners of war and not harmed in any way.

He returned to the bridge and ordered number one to take a damage control crew into the bows to inspect and ascertain if any damage had been suffered in the collision and he awaited their report before they proceeded on course for Colombo and leaving the oil slick and wreckage behind as the patrol boat motored alongside. The bows were intact due to the destroyer striking only the top of the enemies' conning tower, the two vessels set off heading for Colombo; the rest of night passed quietly and dawn broke showing the two vessels alone travelling West across the gently rolling blue sea. Three armed seamen guarded the now clothed prisoners who squatted on the deck with their hands behind their heads, fingers interlocked like naughty schoolboys making their arms ache painfully. The guards had no sympathy for an enemy who could machine gun helpless men floundering in the water, if a prisoner stirred or tried to drop his arms he was threatened with violence the prisoners seemed resigned to their fates. A meal was brought on deck and handed to the prisoners who were allowed to lower their hands to eat using their fingers as no utensils were given to them in case they used them as weapons, the galley had provided them with sandwiches and mugs of hot tea.

After the meal the guards allowed them half an hour of exercise under their watchful eyes and ever-ready gun muzzles as the prisoners did squats and push ups, their taut young bodies flexing sending their muscles rippling. Charles watched from the bridge wing with young Joss by his side as they leaned on the rail enjoying the sight of the young Asian's bare torsos. Charles looked slyly at Joss and saw his moist lips quivering then his tongue slipped out laving his full lips, Charles realised the lad was getting turned on by the sight. Charles invited Joss to lunch in his cabin later and the lad readily agreed his hands in his pockets as he toyed with his erection. The hand action wasn't lost on Charles who grinned at the lad before turning and walking back to the bridge and sitting on his stool staring ahead sightlessly while he imagined the scene of seducing the handsome young Dutch lad in his cabin after eating and plying him with a few tots of rum. Noon arrived and the sea remained empty of other craft Charles took advantage of the calm to tell the Navigator he was going below for his meal.

Charles left the bridge and hurried below to find Joss waiting outside his cabin fidgeting nervously as he waited, he saw Charles and immediately hurried to greet him. Charles ushered the excited young lad into the cabin closing the door behind them. Bradley appeared and the two sat at the table come desk that Bradley had already set out the crisp white tablecloth, crockery and cutlery in preparation for their meal. Joss smiled up at Charles who cupped his tight young buttocks as he edged him to the table, Joss stood red faced and aroused, his teen tool playing pointy pants that Charles noticed and smiled as he pushed the lad's chair under his legs encouraging him to sit down.

Joss sat himself down looking up at the handsome officer smiling happily, Charles rested a hand on the lad's shoulder before allowing it to slide slowly down the boy's fit slim back. Joss shivered as he felt Charles' hand rub over his warm body, his young boner jerked in his pants with delight at the comforting touch, Joss's father had been a reserved distant man who never displayed affection for his son and heir. This attention from Charles was both affectionate and erotically stirring to the love starved young lad, Charles felt the lad's heat and excited quiver and knew he was up for what was going to occur. Charles moved around and sat opposite Joss, their knees just touching under the desk.

Bradley appeared bearing two plates of soup that he adroitly placed before Charles and Joss with all the aplomb of a waiter in a top range restaurant, both diners thanked him and he bowed before leaving them to eat. The soup was eaten in a flash and the main course, zeppelins in the fog, was served, one of Charles favourite meals when at sea. The man and boy fell to chatting about the battle with the submarine and about the prisoners and how thin and fragile they looked compared to the taller burlier British seamen. Charles asked Joss about mixing with the Asian natives when he lived on his family's rubber plantation, Joss nodded and told Charles he had enjoyed playing with the native boys very much as his nearest white neighbour his age lived some distance away.

Charles studied the lad closely as he said this and saw him blush under the tanned skin, he smiled at Joss and asked softly, "You played with them in many ways I'll bet?"

Joss dropped his eyes to his plate and blushed deeper not answering, Charles went on saying, "Don't be embarrassed Joss you can talk openly with me, I too love playing with other boys and men."

Joss looked up startled and said, "You do captain, really you like to play around with men and boys?"

Charles nodded rubbing his bare knee against the lad's, Joss at first pulled away then in seconds returned to the contact pressing his knee to Charles. They both smiled happily at each other as Charles asked, "Have you ever played with men Joss?"

The lad nodded and replied, "Yes one of the boys on the plantation and I were messing about when his dad came in and we all ended up rolling about the floor having fun."

Charles nodded picturing the scene before asking, "Did the man have sex with you?"

Joss nodded and said, "Oh yes captain he pushed his penis up my bum and did me like a girl, it was awesome after the pain stopped, after that I used to do his son and about once a week his dad did me."

Charles knew now Joss was ready and willing although he thought the lad had never had a big man up his tight little Dutch arse. He wondered if the lad would be able to take him easily as he didn't want to hurt him.

To be continued...
 

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Posted: 12/21/07