Chapter 13

“Duìzhǎng!” an officer aboard the Gang un shouts. “Captain!”

Delun Tong glares at the officer addressing him. He is not in the mood to receive bad news. So far his fleet has taken quite the beating and he is close to losing the battle. If he is defeated here, the blame will befall him, sending his name—his family name—into shame. Somehow he only hopes he can turn the near defeat into a victory. “What is it?” he asks with anger flaring in his eyes.

The officer steps back involuntarily, stammering over the words in his head before finally gathering the courage to speak them. “Our formation is lost,” he quickly says. “The Jiangli, Mingxing, and Biaolong have all been sunk. The rest of the fleet is too far out to provide us with ample protection.”

Delun Tong’s hope is starting slip away even further than before. Anger swells up inside as he fights to control it to keep a level head. “What of General Wei and the remainder of the fleet?”

“They are still an hour out, sir,” the officer says appearing to shrink just a little more.

Tong spins around looking to each of his men on the bridge. He struggles with mixed emotions and thoughts. He could order a retreat and many of them men would be glad to follow an order. He could stay and fight to the end with hopes General Wei would arrive in time and still many of the men would be glad to do so. No matter his choice though, the end result is be one he does not care to face. “Order the fleet to press full on,” he orders finally coming out of dilemma. “We will follow straight in with our brethren. I want the batteries fully firing until the American fleet are no more or we are no more!”

“Very well Captain,” the officer answers. He turns to the communications officer and relays the order.

General Wei arrives with his portion of the fleet to find the fleet commanded by Captain Tong in ruins. Hulking masses of Chinese ships continue to burn as they barely manage to remain afloat. Many of the ships are no longer burning but are massive chunks of wreckage. Debris and bodies litter the sea. What ships that can’t be seen that are supposed to be there, General Wei assumes now sit at the bottom of the ocean floor. American ships mill about along with small water craft as they search for survivors. Wei orders his ships to stop short of any long range guns the Americans have and wait to be hailed. “Are there any transmissions from the Gang Jun?” he openly asks.

“Yes sir,” a crewman answers. “We have a final transmission sent just before the ship sunk.”

“Sir,” another crew member says before the general can speak. “We are being hailed by the American Fleet.”

“Send the report to my quarters,” he says to the first crewman. “Put the Americans on.” A click sounds letting the general know the communications line is open. “This is General Wei of the flagship Dawei.”

“Greetings, General Wei,” a crisp voice says over the line. “This is Fleet Admiral Russell Pellington of the USS Downley requesting to know your intentions.”

“Ah, Admiral Pellington, I have heard of you and your accomplishments.”

“As I have heard of you also, General Wei.”

“I see you have defeated my fleet,” he says stating the obvious. “I have what you would call a superior force at moment considering my fleet is fresh and ready for battle where as yours is in near shambles.”