America Stranded in a Fantasy World

Chapter 4 "Jäger Squadron"

June 23rd, 2040: Somewhere in the 'Atlantic' Ocean: Task Force: Pioneer

Fleet Admiral Jameson Wilkins couldn't help but feel anxious about the mission ahead of them, it sure didn't help that this was quite possibly the largest naval task force the navy had ever created since the second world war. Six carriers; two being Gerald R. Ford Class, surrounded by forty-four other vessels ranging from cruisers to destroyers including attack submarines, with amphibious assault ships in the rear.

"Sir, was it really necessary for the top brass to put six carriers in this group? I've been hearing some of the crew talking about how annoyed the control tower guys are." Jameson looked over at the curious young seaman.

"We aren't on Earth anymore seaman, can't be too careful now. Besides, we need the room for the ten or so thousand of our brothers and sisters stranded. Are you suggesting that we should have packed lighter?" Jameson joked, leaving the seaman uncertain how to act.

"Ah--I--N-No not at all sir! I was just wondering since we have a combined total of nearly four hundred aircraft, won't the skies get a bit crowded?" The young man asked, making Jameson laugh.

"You're not wrong in thinking that son, I can already see the controllers ripping their hair out should an all-out sortie be called. Not to mention trying to coordinate all fifty vessels in this fleet." The two laughed, but even to Jameson seeing a fleet this massive was imposing. It did seem a bit excessive. Standing on a lookout point above the bridge, Jameson could see the entire fleet. This was more of an invasion force than a diplomatic escort. The moment was interrupted with the clattering of boots on metal. Climbing up the steep staircase another officer joined them.

"Lieutenant, something I should be aware of?" Jameson raised an eyebrow before they both saluted.

"Sir, radar from multiple vessels have been tracking an unknown contact in the air for about ten minutes." Jameson didn't need to hear more. He quickly raced down the stairs and into the command deck where multiple people were crowded around the radar man.

"Fleet Admiral on deck!" One sailor shouted, making everyone shoot up from their seats.

"At ease! What do we have?" Jameson walked over to the radar station.

"Sir, we have been following a contact about one hundred nautical miles and is fluctuating in altitude, biological in nature." The radarman responded.

"What makes you say that?" A nearby captain inquired, a question many here wanted to be answered.

"Because no mechanical aircraft can pull the insane altitude fluctuations this is doing." Handing Jameson a clipboard it had a graph showing the altitude changes and one could argue they were tracking a rollercoaster with what was happening.

"Alright, get a squadron in the air to investigate it. I don't need a dragon deciding to make a meal out of a vessel." Stifled laughter echoed through the command deck.

Seeing the danger of the situation, Jäger Squadron was chosen. Being battle-hardened from the campaigns in stabilizing Africa during the first resource war, along with all having F-35Cs as their aircraft made them the best option. Onboard the USS Gerald R. Ford the squad sat in the briefing room.

"This should be fun, to finally get to see if a dragon's hide is really as tough as a tank's armor." Michael formed a wicked grin.

"Why does everyone think it's a dragon? Every time the damn radar lights up you all go to the extremes. Last time it was an oversized whale, now this?" Hanna rolled her eyes, making Michael raise his arms.

"Hey you never know, maybe that whale grew wings! Anything is possible now."

"Oh god don't even start. I still need to use bleach to scrub my eyes from what I saw inside your bunk." Robert shivered. The trio was soon greeted by their squad leader, Jackal.