RED LIGHTNING

June 2nd, 1942.
The massive vessel stood still in the deep, dark and calm pacific. The dark sky showcased only the stars gleaming down and illuminating the vacant sky. The pure cold breeze carried the saline essence, brushing past everything on its way. Little light illuminated the flight deck. The spotters, watchmen and the landing signal officers gave life to the deck. USS Isherwood , named after the late admiral, a thirty-thousand ton Essex class aircraft carrier two hundred meters in length and eight stories in height, stood proudly amidst the vast sea bearing a crew of five thousand personnel and taunting its defense and offense. Two squadrons of the SBD Dauntless stood at the stern ready for reconnaissance and to confront. The aircraft is one of a kind, especially used as dive bombers and in scouting missions displayed valor. A classical warbird with an impressive kill rate. The lighted three stories hub nicknamed the Island stood heavily at the port of the vessel. The top of the island was outfitted with an array of communication antennas, radars, and radio towers. Four twin and four single five-inch gun turrets provided aerial encounter and sixty     rapid-firing twenty-millimeter cannons and seventeen quad-barrels forty millimeter Bofors guns provided close protection. These heavy artilleries stood linearly in front of the island. Every vessel ruling the oceans was a little city in its own way and the men in control defined a strict hierarchy otherwise called ranks to maintain order and lead in the vital times of war.
His clipped grey hair fluttered in the wind, the fair and rigid face was calm reflecting the sea, but his mind was in contrast. His keen blue eyes observed the stillness of the ocean. The surface a mere façade, hiding the harsh and little discovered world underneath it. The khaki suit and the stripes on the shoulder board revealed the authority he held. He stood with folded hands at the starboard, facing the ocean and island behind him. The sound of the fast-approaching footsteps gathered his attention, but he refused to turn around. 
'Captain?' A timid voice called.
The man turned around and faced the young sailor as he saluted. The captain nodded and frowned.
'You are needed at the flag bridge.' He said. Again the captain nodded and walked past him calmly.
The entire control of the vessel rested on the island. The first story is the flag bridge the command center of the admiral in charge of the carrier. The story above is the navigation bridge, holds a special place for the captain and the third story harbors the primary flight control, to monitor the aircraft take-offs, landings, and the radio. A balcony on the topmost story gives an unobstructed view of the entire flight deck.
The captain gently knocked on the steel door and pushed it open. The scene explained the gravity of the situation, but common in times of war. He walked towards the long and broad table and looked at a man in plain khaki, the admiral whose attention was completely targeted into the nautical chart of the west pacific on the table. A man the captain admired and a dear friend. The captain observed the chart and immediately recalled the vessel's location, marked with an eagle and several other spots symbolizing nearby islands with nautical miles from the west coast and the Hawaiian islands. He looked around and frowned as he recognized another man who saluted him.
'Good that you are here... we have a job to do. Take a look at this.' Said the admiral looking directly into the captain's eyes. The man standing across the table handed him a paper. 
'It's an Intelligence report from pearl. It claims the Japanese have stationed a base in wake islands. And an attack is imminent. It also says the Japanese are working on a new project...Red lightning.' The admiral continued looking at the captain and paused.
'The report suggests for a scout mission ?' The captain asked after reading the paper.
'Yes, Ripley. We have to plan a scout mission. I have already called in Farrier.'
'His entire squad ?'
'No... It's been a week since the midway warning. We might have to pull back at any time now. The Japanese should be inside our lines. It's just a matter of time before we face an attack. And I refuse to send a whole squadron.'
Ripley nodded as he moved to the nautical chart, observed and looked at the clock, It showed fifteen minutes to eight.
The admiral walked to the porthole and observed aimlessly.
'Are we arming Farrier? sir ?'
'Yes. Just in case if there is a base there. He is one of the bravest fighters I've known. He'll be alright.
Put him in a bird he can take out the entire island.'
'Sir you seem less impressed by the report.'
'No... Let's say I am more concerned about Midway. A second one after pearl? It is gonna change everything,' he smiled sadly and turned around.
A knock on the door interrupted them. A tall, athletic figure entered the room and saluted. The man's face was calm, shaven and his blue eyes gleamed. He donned a brown leather jacket covering his khaki suit. 
'I'll pass it to Willock then.' Said the captain, the admiral nodded as he exited the room.
'Farrier. There is a solo mission for you.' The admiral spoke firmly and continued, 'Your job is to scout the wake island, a hundred klicks west, for any Japanese base, and confront if a threat is noticed.' 'Yes, sir.'
'Not to mention you will be in radio silence and prepare for the worst.'
'I always do sir.' Said the squadron leader.
'They have to pay whatever the price is for Pearl. You leave at once young man... and you do understand this is no less than a suicide mission'
'I understand sir.' He said.
'Approach the handling officer for further details. You may leave.' Said the admiral and turned towards the rack behind.
'Yes, sir.' Said the pilot and left the room.
As the footsteps faded the silence swept around the room. The admiral calmly picked a brown bottle and a glass and walked to the table. He tilted the bottle to fill the glass and slowly sipped it.
'Inevitable sacrifices...' He murmured to himself.

The intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance wing was one of the most secure facilities located deep in the southern wing of the naval headquarters in Pearl harbor. Men inside worked tirelessly gathering and piecing together the intercepted signals and messages. A forecast for the battles to be fought. After all, successful battles depend on the wit of the war wagers.
The man behind the desk looked up as a tall, fair, and short-haired man walked in holding a file sealed 'Urgent'. He saluted and handed the file to the man across the desk. His serene face showed no emotions as he picked it up. The half-smoked cigar placed on the ashtray smoked mildly. The power the man wielded could change the course of the history forever but yet the man showed no signs materially. The entire western fleet was under his command with the sole purpose of defending the west coast from any threat posed by the Japanese. The khaki overcoat hanged neatly on the hanger beside him. A suit that made men respect and salute. The suit of the fleet admiral.
'We should get our answers soon enough sir.' Said the man who just walked in.
The fleet admiral nodded.
'Good work Patrick...The future battles depend on men like you.' He said and smoked the cigar.
The chief intelligence officer nodded and stood with a concerned look as the admiral continued.
'Operation Red lightning? Heck of a name. The Japanese imitating our planes is a heck of a deception. Might have worked if not for you.'
'The evolution of Kamikazes I guess.' Patrick said and smiled.
'Ah...Interesting. You briefed them the entire mission ?'
'No sir, Anything more than I have said will expose the location of the Isherwood .'
'I understand... How the hell did they even get the blueprints in the first place ?'
'It is a matter to be looked upon seriously... The wreckages might have served the purpose.'
'Yes...but I have my doubts. Should put up words in the right places. Tell me, Patrick, how many would we have lost... If the Japanese had planes just like ours, the SBD correct ?'
'The loss would have been immense.' Patrick frowned.
'There'll be chaos in field...Hard to imagine'
'But we have not yet confirmed it, sir. Its major hunches and assumptions'
'And with Midway at our doorstep ? ... We are at hard times Patrick, let's go all the way.' 'Understood sir.'
'You can call it a night Patrick. Spend some time with your wife.'
'I don't think I can sir. She knows my Job'
The admiral turned and smiled.
'It will always be an honor to serve beside men like you Patrick.'
'The honor is mine, sir.' He smiled and left the room.
Patrick sat behind his desk and looked through the window beside him. As the halogen lamps illuminated the deserted roads. He could almost see the lights of the city. The lives that are to be saved not only from the bombings, and battles but also from losing their dear ones. He knew the responsibility in his shoulders are heavy and after the bombings things have changed and will never be the same. The attack could have been thwarted if not for the intelligence failure. He knew his contribution to it and had to live with it for the rest of his life. He let out a deep sigh.

John Farrier strode towards the stern. He sucked his cigarette as the head lit red and puffed to resist the cold wind that blew towards him. Behind him a short young man followed him, keeping up with one of the best pilots he ever knew. Farrier's fame was sung all over the fleet for the courageous fight he put on during the pearl harbor attack. And to be the gunner for this brave man fed his pride. John made rough calculations in his mind on his flight plan as Terry Willocks the aircraft handling officer for the current shift approached them and stopped.
'You are good to go.' He said smiling. And handed him the mission plan.
'Dave, you wanna sit this one out kid ?' John called as he turned around.
'Not in this life.' Dave said and smiled.
'It's suicide... are you sure ?' John asked again.
'Yes, I am.' He said bluntly and smiled.
John inspected the papers detailing him the mission as he strode towards the              SBD Dauntless and Willocks beside him. He turned around to see the clear runway and checked the weather, with no moon in sight the sky was clear with scattered clouds ideal for scouting and bombing. As he neared, the beauty of the aircraft hit him. Ten meters in length, with a width of twelve meters and four meters from the ground, Painted in light blue with a white star resting inside a dark blue circle on either side of the tail and the wings and the number twenty-two was printed on either side behind the gunner. Equipped with a Wright R-1820 Cyclone engine and enough artillery to sink a ship, two thousand pounds general-purpose bomb, a forward-firing synchronized Browning M2 machine guns in the engine cowling and a flexible mounted Browning machine gun in the rear.
John stopped before climbing and looked around. he knew it could be his last flight but being one of the best in the field he reminded himself that he cannot be taken down easily. He let in a deep breath and climbed inside the cockpit, and Dave followed him slipping into his seat in the rear. John pump started the aircraft, As the Hamilton propeller started, the roar of the aircraft echoed. He started warming up the vehicle and waited calmly as the engine reached its peak and looked at his watch, It showed eight past fifteen. He slowly steered it to the well-lit runway ahead of him. The men on the flight deck waited for the pilot's go to initiate the takeoff. John waited for a couple of minutes and pushed the lever, lowered the flaps and moved the aircraft ahead. It picked its pace quickly reaching thirty knots, covering the entire two hundred meters and soaring into the sky in seconds. Men on the deck observed keenly as the flight ascended the sky. The landing gear drew up and the plane cruised over the dark sea. 

Patrick strode as fast as he could across the hallway sweating. The call that he received moments ago was the first domino of initiating a string of vital actions that are to be taken immediately. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he reached the admiral's office. He burst open the door and found the admiral reading the wide map on the wall. 'Easy Patrick. You scared me.' The admiral said and noticed the terror in Patrick's eyes.
'Just received a call from the surveillance. A Japanese aircraft carrier spotted six hundred klicks west of Midway. It has begun sir.'
The admiral listened carefully as he observed the map, and recognized the entire position of the fleet at his disposal.
'What is the nearest vessel... Is it Franklin ?' Asked the admiral as his eyes searched for the battleship.
'No sir. It's Isherwood . Two-fifty klicks from the Japanese vessel. And Lorenz at three-fifty klicks.' Patrick said and pointed.
'Understood. Send a word out immediately, Contact and confront, and warn them... The battle has begun and hit with everything we've got. And direct other scouting missions from nearby vessels.'
'Yes, sir' Said Patrick and turned to leave.
'Patrick... direct Lorenz to aid Isherwood ' 
He nodded approvingly and hurried out of the room.

The sailor rushed through the short, narrow corridor from the radio room and descended the steel stairs and paused for breath before knocking the steel door. He swallowed a huge chunk of air and pushed the door open. And found two men way above his ranks. The admiral was looking through the porthole as the sweaty sailor saluted him. He handed him the transcript in a brown cover sealed 'FOR ADMIRAL EYES ONLY'. The admiral snatched it from his hands, opened it and his eyes raced through the words. He turned to find a tall, lean, grey-haired man with a mustache, the vice-admiral behind him with a confused look.
'Call Ripley !' Said the admiral.
Ripley Dolittle descended from the balcony as fast he could and reached the Flag bridge and pushed open the door as it creaked.
'I'm here' Said the captain.
'We are directed back to intercept a Japanese aircraft carrier, two-fifty klicks north-east.'
'Sure sir. I'll fire her up at once. But sir... Farrier ?'
'How fast can you take us there ?' Asked the admiral pointing to a red mark on the map.
'I would say in a couple of hours?' Said the captain and looked at the wall clock. It showed nine past twenty.
'Okay, We intercept them little over here' said the admiral and pointed ahead of the red mark.
'That will buy us time I suppose...' said the vice admiral.
'Yes with a top speed we can wait for them ahead of their route.'
'So... It should give us an hour I suppose ?' Asked the admiral.
'Yes... sir. I'll ask the men to watch out for anything' answered the vice admiral.
'I am not ready to leave any of my men behind.'
The captain nodded.
'I'll be at the bridge, and warm her up' Said the captain and waited for the admiral's nod.
'Wait for an hour...if nothing turns up we leave a boat here and proceed.'
The captain nodded and left the room.
'It's gonna be a long night Henry, Brace yourself.' Said the admiral to the man beside him.

'You awake kid ?' Asked John.
'Yeah...Nothing yet.' Replied the gunner.
'You will never know what pops up, Keep your eyes peeled.'
The dauntless was cruising just below the scattered clouds, The constant rhythm of the engine reverberated through it. John looked at his fuel gauge it showed a little over sixty gallons. Dave checked the altimeter, it read fourteen thousand feet. He let out a deep sigh and looked down at the endless sea stretching far beyond the horizon. He strained his eyes to check either side to make sure there was nothing to be considered a threat. He knew what a Japanese base looked like a common sight at times like this.
'We should reach in ten minutes...' John warned.
'What if we find nothing ?'
'Then we return. Simple as that.'
'We are gonna warn them if we do spot the base right ?'
'Yes. But not before we spot one. Strict Radio silence.'
'And warn me before you take a dive.'
'You piss your pants every time I guess ?' John chuckled, ' Don't worry kid we are gonna make it back in one piece.'
'I am not worrying. It just concerns me that we are on a solo mission. Never done that before.'
'Ha... Let it not bother you kid, we will catch the first belt. Just another day.'
'Without dying.' Dave mocked.
'Dave, just so if we don't make it. You are one of the best.'
'Yes, sir. And it is an honor to die with you.'

John could see a faint light below. He strained his eyes as it went past him.
'I think we reached... caught that light ?'
'No... I missed it'
'I'll rerun...Hold on.' Said John as adrenaline gushed into his stomach.
John slightly adjusted the elevators on the tail to gently dip the plane down and he pulled the rudder to his right sharply, hauling the plane to the right. Dave clenched his fists around the machine gun. He felt safe for a moment. The plane turned around and this time John was sure there was something below and assumed it to be the wake island. He lowered the plane further. His eyes strained but did not get a clear picture.
'Caught anything ?' He asked
'Negative.' Replied Dave.
The plane went past the little lights the second time. John checked the fuel gauge it read fifty gallons. One last time...he thought. John went further past the island and sharply shifted the rudder to the left, twisting the plane to ninety degrees and pushed the elevators on the tail sharply down. The plane shuddered as it dived down deep. John was sure he could get a clear view this time and took a small glance at the bomb releasing handles beside his left knee. He drew further close to the island but noticed something, Sparks. Which could mean only one thing, But John was too late as the bullets pierced the plane behind him.
'Shit !' He screamed as he pulled to his right escaping the constant spraying of bullets. 
'Are you okay Dave ?' He enquired trying to dodge the bullets that kept following him.
'Dave respond. Can you hear me ?' He screamed but his earpiece kept mum.
John checked his wing on the right and again a rain of bullets pierced through the plane's wings. He pulled the plane to the left and again to the right working hard to duck and dodge the bullets. Just then he realized and turned on the radio.
'This is Hunter two two. Spotted the base and under heavy fire, Do you read ?' He screamed. But only listened to the static.
'I repeat. Japanese base spotted. Drawing heavy fire copy ?' He repeated, but all he could hear was the static noise. He turned to look back, all he could see was shattered glass and light white smoke. He couldn't see Dave, but terrible thoughts crept into his mind but dismissed them and tried to focus on his actions. The radio transmitter was located behind the rear gunner and John was sure the radio was damaged. He cursed as another wave of bullets were sprayed at him. He pushed the throttle as the engine roared aloud and looked at the target as he was closer to it now. The well-lit island resembled a familiar space.
'A runway ?' He asked himself and decided on his next move. He turned around the plane sharply, oscillated to dodge the heavy rain of bullets and when the time was right he pulled the elevators up and the plane plunged vertically piercing through the clouds. The plane soared high into the sky and John stalled the plane, The propellers slowly died and simultaneously gravity pulled the plane down. He waited for the correct angle, restarted the engine and pushed down through, as the clouds cleared he could see the island. He fired the rockets aimlessly, aided with the browning machine guns and descended into a spin, vertically with a tremendous force after obtaining a perfect seventy-degree. The plane hummed as the flaps on the wings resisted the air. John was going in for the dive, the enemy's gun turrets drizzled the bullets aimlessly. The bullets shattered the windshield and cut through the engine. He checked at the altimeter and waited for the needle to drop down to fifteen hundred feet. He was seconds away, the bullets shattered the fuselage and thick smoke chucked out. 
'For everything.' John murmured
The altimeter hit fifteen hundred and John immediately pulled the handle next to his knee, releasing a thousand-pound bomb and immediately pulled the elevator fiercely up and a four G-Force struck him as the plane roared past horizontally. 
John almost felt the shock wave as the bomb detonated. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and chest, he looked down to find the crimson soaking his jacket. He struggled to breathe as blood oozed from his chest. He sucked and gulped down the oxygen from his mask. He looked at the cracked rearview mirror and noticed something familiar but was too week to ascertain what it was. He could hear the rumble of planes behind him. The pain increased slowly shutting his senses, and the damaged engine blew out thick smoke, and the plane descended smoothly advancing into the deep blue sea. 

The cold breeze bothered the admiral less than the thoughts in his mind. He looked at the never-ending sea and realized history is written by the victors but at the cost of irreplaceable loss. He checked his watch, it showed half past ten, At any time now he thought, and sensed a slight vibration and the heard the warning siren. After a couple of minutes, the massive four-blade propellers started and the vessel gradually accelerated tearing through the sea. The admiral's eyes searched the skies. He recalled the very first time seeing John Farrier at his best, single-handedly taking out two fighter planes, the dogfight he witnessed portrayed the skill and bravery of men willing to give anything for their country. 
'We should leave a boat I think...' Said Henry, the vice-admiral looking through the binoculars.
The men were standing at the balcony of the primary flight control. The admiral looked at him and nodded with a heavy sigh. He loathed the thought that the heavy loss is yet to come. He knew what wars do to people, families, and countries. The first great war of the century proved enough. He let in a deep breath and walked past Henry.      
The men at the bow were preparing the runway for the take-offs of two squadrons of the SBD Dauntless. The aircrafts were being warmed up for the scouting and bombing. Preparing for a battle. The men looked at the clear sky and noticed a distant light. The slight buzzing attracted men towards the bow. They strained their eyes to see the advancing plane. The vice admiral noticed the unrest at the bow of the vessel. He looked through his binoculars and at the direction the sailors pointed. At once he realized what it was, He rushed to the primary flight control. 
'There is an incoming bird. Attempt contact.' He ordered. The men obliged.
The vice admiral rushed to the balcony to get another look at the approaching aircraft.
'One of ours ?' Asked the admiral.
'Looks like it.' Said the admiral and handed the binoculars to him.
'A dauntless for sure...the bomb is intact. Radio ?'
' We are trying sir'
The admiral strode into the communications bridge and scrutinized for a response. The radio operator looked at the admiral with a puzzled look.
' No response sir.' He said.
' Keep trying.' Said the admiral, and turned to the vice admiral.
'Henry the bird looks intact...'
' It is confusing sir.'
The men walked to the balcony again. The plane looked bigger now as it advanced further and the rumble of the plane came closer. The sailors cleared the flight deck as the siren screamed, the gunners rushed to the gun turrets at the port side to aim at the              fast-approaching aircraft and waited patiently for the orders with their fingers at the trigger. 
The captain ascended the metal stairs to joint the admiral and the vice admiral. And atole a glance through the binoculars at the plane. 
' Is it him? Farrier ?' Asked the captain, perplexed.
'Not confirmed.' Replied the vice admiral.
'Well, it must be him right ?' 
'He is not responding and the bomb is intact.'
The captain looked through the binoculars and confirmed it.
The plane came closer making men at the deck nervous. The captain looked at the admiral questioningly, waiting for his command. The admiral kept mum reviewing the decision that he is about to dispatch from him.
'The call is yours, sir...' Said the captain and waited for a response.
'Do not engage. Let it come aboard.' The admiral commanded.
The captain nodded and rushed inside the flight control.
The men at the gun turrets eased as the loudspeakers announced not to engage the incoming aircraft. The landing signal officers waited patiently for the aircraft to land. 
The plane shuddered as the tail wheel caught the arresting cable stretched across the deck, the hydraulic pumps attached to it instantly decelerated the SBD Dauntless and the plane halted close to the parked planes. The sailors rushed to the plane to recover it. The captain looked at the cockpit through the binoculars and found something amiss. His mouth dropped in bewilderment. He checked again and confirmed it. 
' It's Japanese!' He screamed. 
The two thousand pounds TNT detonated sending out a sphere of powerful shock wave that shattered the glass and fiber which pierced and cut through the sailors in the proximity. And the blast that immediately followed destroyed everything on its way. The explosion rapidly released energy through light, heat, sound and shock waves. The debris hurled in every direction, increasing the impact. The explosion initiated a fatal chain reaction as the parked planes burst into flames, exploded and threw themselves into the sea. The wounded screamed in agony as the fire consumed and burnt their skins. Thick and dark plumes of smoke erupted devouring the entire flight deck. Dense smoke entered through the huge crater formed at the site of the explosion into the hangar deck, suffocating men inside. The entire bow was aflame. The fuel from the planes fed the fire which spread at an alarming rate initiating a battle that could last for hours.  
The admiral pulled himself up clenching his teeth, his face felt warm as the blood drained through his ears and mild cuts on his forehead. His body ached as he supported himself at the iron railings. The sudden escalation of things unwrapped a series of horror in front of his eyes. He helped the vice admiral and the captain to their feet. 
'Initiate the damage control sequence.' The admiral said weekly.
'Yes, sir.' The captain acknowledged and hurried down to the deck.
'Report it to Pearl.' He commanded the vice admiral and he obliged.

'Are they sure it was a SBD Dauntless ?' The Fleet admiral asked, leaning at the desk.
'The admiral confirms it.' Patrick said.
Moments ago a transmission from the USS Isherwood  conveyed that the vessel has been temporarily decommissioned, due to a kamikaze attack. A fatal blow to the western fleet.  'Damage report ?'
'It's too early to say, sir.'
'Dispatch aids immediately... Have the other vessels been warned ?'
'Yes, sir'
'How did they even manage to pull it ? ... It's the wreckages. It has to be right? With little engineering, it is not impossible to create one just like us. Just get the dimensions right and voila!  You create a        next-generation kamikaze.' The Fleet admiral walked to the window and folded his hands to his chest and continued.
' How did the plane get the location of the vessel?'
' Wake island is a hundred klicks from the vessel. Anyone pilot could have found it' 
The fleet admiral smacked his lips.
'Do we know how many such birds they have? ...' He asked.
Patrick shook his head disapprovingly. 
'Let's focus on what we have at hand. Bring in all the staff we have. We have a war to win. The whole western coast is at stake. We have too much loose. By the end of this war, Japanese will be spoken only in hell !' The fleet admirals rage radiated as he walked out his room.
And Patrick followed him. His thoughts raced as he walked beside the fleet admiral. The cost of war... He thought, Whatever the price... it has to be paid with blood and lives. The Japanese have employed deception, a vital ploy to seize the victory...at any cost. But the battle has just begun, by a setback. But not a one that assures defeat. This could set up a course to victory... Patrick stopped and realized Victory? In a war, there are only survivors and prisoners.