This tale contains sex between males, if this isn't to your liking or you are underage or it is illegal where you reside then you should leave now.
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Atlantic Express, Chapter 49, by justjames17.
The HMS Foxhound and her smaller consort, the motor patrol boat, steamed away from the Sumatran coast with all haste; the seas tranquil after the fierce tropical storm allowed both vessels to making good speed away from the dangerous waters. Charles was worried about the enemy patrol discovering their mission and reporting their presence in the area thus alerting either the Japanese navy or sending aircraft after the two fleeing vessels. The longer the time unmolested the better as they distanced themselves from danger.
Dawn found them nearly 100 nautical miles out into the vast expanse of the Indian Ocean all sight of land lost, Charles paced tiredly back and forth across the bridge as the crew closed up for action stations. Binoculars swept the horizon and the lightening sky overhead searching for the first sign of the enemy, the sun's huge golden ball lifted above the sea illuminating the two vessels from astern. The minutes seemed like hours to the tired crews until finally full light was upon them and the stand down was piped throughout the destroyer.
Charles sat on the stool his head on his hands as he thought of what might happen during the day, they would be unlucky to run into enemy surface craft but the threat of planes was still omnipresent. Bradley appeared on the bridge bearing a tray with breakfast for Charles, he thanked his old friend and steward then began eating. After the meal was over he felt much better and he looked down into the foredeck to see the young Dutch lad walking about peering into A turret curious to learn all he could of the ship that was carrying him away from danger and hopefully to be reunited with his parents.
Charles watched the handsome youth as he wandered about his golden hair shining in the tropical sun, the lad bent over to pick up an object affording Charles the tantalising view of his taut young buttock stretching the seat of his baggy grey shorts. Charles mind stripped the lad and envisioned him naked and penis erect stretched out on his bunk while Charles made love to his so smooth fit young body. Charles gazed blindly at the lad while his mind was fantasising, he shook his head and refocused his eyes and realised the boy was standing looking up at him the wind of their passage blowing his longish untrimmed hair forward over his cute face. Charles smiled warmly down at the lad who grinned happily and waved his hand, Charles beckoned to him and indicated for the youth to come up onto the bridge. The boy hurried to the ladder and clambered up like a monkey stepping onto the bridge smiling eagerly.
Charles grinned back at him and the lad came across to where Charles sat, he stood next to Charles looking about the bridge watching the lookouts on the bridge wings and the navigator in the chart house behind the bridge as he bent over the chart table plotting their course, his behind stuck out sexily as he worked. Charles asked the boy if he spoke English, the lad nodded and said in a heavy accent, "Yes I speak English, I learned at school."
Charles then asked if he would like to use his binoculars, the boy beamed and thanked him as Charles handed them to him. He began looking through the powerful glasses doing what he had seen the lookouts doing slowly swinging them from side to side as he studied the sea and sky. Charles sat back in his bridge stool and watched the gorgeous lad, he studied the slim lightly muscled bronzed arms with the light fuzz of sun bleached blond hair as the boy looked through the heavy binoculars. Suddenly the lad stopped swinging the glasses and studied one area, he said, "Captain I can see something on the water ahead of us but I can't see what it is. Its just a darkish blob on the blue sea."
Charles said, "Its probably just a floating tree trunk a not uncommon hazard in these tropical waters. Lookouts our visitor has spotted something ahead slightly off the starboard bow can you see anything?"
Both lookouts swung their glasses to study the area mentioned for some minutes before the younger port lookout acknowledged that there definitely was something ahead, the older starboard seaman then agreed but neither could identify what they saw. Charles told the navigator to sound the alarm bells and close up the guns just in case it was the enemy and retrieved the glasses from the boy thanking him for his extraordinarily sharp eyes. Foxhound came up to full speed after signalling the patrol boat to stand to, both vessels raced towards the distant object as the distance closed the lookouts and Charles realised it was their missing patrol boat drifting without power on the sea. They reduced speed as they neared the disabled boat and hove to alongside the listing boat, her crew were overly happy to see them arrive and after ascertaining that the boat was towable Charles ordered the sister boat to take her in tow.
A light line was passed from the towing boat attached to the towing eye of a heavier wire hawser, which was pulled across the gap between the two boats and the eye dropped over the towing bollard in the bow of the damaged craft. The lead boat moved slowly ahead gradually tightening the tow hawser that rose dripping from the sea then stretched tight water spraying as it stretched before the drifting patrol boat began to swing under the tow and sluggishly move ahead. The speed was gradually increased until both vessels were making a comfortable 10 knots through the water; Foxhound stood down from action stations and began patrolling about the two boats her engines throbbing gently.
Charles praised the young Dutch lad, the boy's chest swelled with the compliments as he smiled and his sun-bronzed features darkened as he blushed charmingly. Charles said, "My word young Joss, those blue eyes of yours are better than those of my most experienced lookouts, I wish we could keep you on as a member of the crew and I'm sure the crew of the patrol boat will want to thank you when we reach Colombo. As a reward I'm inviting you to have dinner with me in my cabin this evening, would you like that?"
Joss looked at the tall handsome captain in his uniform and he nodded speechless, his bright blue eyes speaking volumes as he looked into Charles tired eyes. Charles saw the lad's excitement and smiled at him placing his hand on the slim shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze the boy shivered like a puppy from the feel of Charles hand. Charles looked into the lad's eyes and read much more that either could speak here on the bridge. Both though got a mental message that more was to come that evening, Charles handed the binoculars back to Joss who again began searching the sea excitedly after his success finding the disabled patrol boat.
Bradley appeared silently at the rear of the bridge and stood watching Charles and the lad a fond smile on his rugged face, he stepped forward and picked up the tray containing Charles breakfast dishes and Charles mentioned that Joss would be joining him for the evening meal. Bradley grinned and winked his eye before departing back below deck to prepare Charles' noon meal. The small fleet steamed on through the morning without any disturbance, Charles waited for Alan the first lieutenant to take the watch, exchanged details of course and speed then went below to wash up and put on a clean uniform before relaxing and eating his midday meal.
A full stomach after the long day and night without sleep caused Charles to doze off head on hands at his desk; Bradley quietly removed the crockery and left him to sleep. An hour latter the alarm bells shrilled jarring Charles awake, he jerked upright and looked around in his semi stupor before his brain registered it was action stations. He leapt to his feet racing up the ladder to the bridge as the Foxhounds engines began to shake her hull, the destroyer was rapidly accelerating as her huge pros span faster and faster pushing her slender hull through the water. Charles grabbed his binoculars demanding a report on the situation, number one told him a plane was approaching from astern and in all probability it was an enemy reconnaissance plane.
Foxhound was steaming in circles around the two patrol boats ready to defend them against the oncoming aircraft, flags, the communications officer was in the radio room searching the frequencies to see if he could pick up the plane's transmissions. The small black dot grew in size until they could see it was a single engined floatplane, Charles delved into the aircraft identification book and located a grainy picture that resembled the oncoming aircraft. It looked like an Aichi M6A Seiran, this raised a problem as the plane was designed to be carried on the giant I-401 submarines. These monster subs weighed more than twice Foxhound's displacement and carried 3 of these fast sea planes, which could carry either 2 250kg bombs or 1 800kg or 850 kg bomb. The submarine must be reasonably close as the plane's range was limited to a little over 600 nautical miles; Charles ordered the guns to engage at maximum range. Foxhound shook as her main armament belched flame and foul stinking cordite smoke, again and again she flung her missiles of death at the approaching plane which was weaving about to throw off the gunner's aim. The blue sky was pock marked with black smoke puffs as the preset fuses in the shells exploded about the dancing aircraft, none hit her sleek shape and the lighter antiaircraft now had her in their sights as they hammered rounds into the sky.
A flash of red blossomed on the fuselage as the plane seemed to shudder but she flew resolutely on trailing black smoke in her wake. As she crossed the area two black objects fell from beneath her wings, wobbled in the air before straightening and plummeting seawards towards the two patrol boats as Foxhound heeled over slewing to port so that all her guns would bear. The bombs whistled down as if in slow motion they closed the two small boats striking the water yards from the patrol boats throwing geysers of water skywards drenching the two boats. The smoking plane flew on the rear machine guns fired at Foxhound, the Bofors guns' shells pounded into the plane as it flew away and suddenly the already wounded aircraft disintegrated in a huge red flash as her fuel tanks exploded blowing the plane to bits that fluttered down splashing into the sea as the smoke drifted off on the breeze staining the blue firmament above the three vessels.
The plane, unknown to us, had got off a signal to its mother ship, they knew our position and course, the captain and navigator on the sub were working out a course to intercept us on the long voyage back to Colombo. The captain ordered the two remaining planes to be readied; the experienced crew had both assembled and flown off the catapult in 35 minutes. The two M6A's were airborne and flying towards our last known position, their bombs hanging under the wings waiting to be released on our heads, while their mother submarine steamed at its flank speed of 18 knots trying to cross our course.
The Foxhound and the patrol boats continued on at 10 knots hoping the Sub was too far away to catch us, the afternoon drew on and suddenly the lookouts warned of two aircraft approaching, Charles took a long look and decided they were the same type as the earlier attacker. He now wondered if the planes were from a submarine or a capital ship, he didn't know that the I class could carry more than one aircraft. This new advent made things much stickier for his small fleet, a large cruiser or battleship would spell disaster if she caught the fleeing vessels.
The approaching planes divided up one flying north the other south thus dividing the Foxhounds guns, soon the gunnery control had the 4inchers bellowing their anger at the aircraft, again the blue sky filled with black blossoms with red centres as the shells exploded. The planes flew on unconcerned except for weaving about they closed with the small armada and Foxhound weaved and circled firing with all she had, the patrol boats added their machine gun fire top no avail the planes flew through the hail of fire to drop their bombs. The missiles whistled down bu8t this time the towed patrol boat was struck, splinters of wood lanced through the air as her tired hull shattered, she began to fill rapidly while the towing hawser tightened twanging and vibrating.
She was sinking fast and the weight of her waterlogged hull began to drag the other boat down at the stern, one of her crew frantically was chopping at the hawser with an axe attempting to cut them free of their sinking consort. Charles was busy conning the Foxhound and watching the two floatplanes as they circled watching the drama they had caused. Foxhound's guns continued spitting fire and smoke as she fired at the enemy. The sailor on the stern chopped through the strong cable and the patrol boat bounced lifting its stern out of the water her props racing as the weight was released, her consort slipped below the surface leaving four of her crew floundering in the sea.
The Foxhound was steaming further away from the remaining patrol boat as it continued firing at the enemy, one plane swept back towards the patrol boat and it machine gunned the four men in the water then fired on the remaining boat before it began to fly away southwards followed soon after by its companion. Charles returned to the scene of the murder and they retrieved the four lifeless bodies kept afloat by their lifejackets. Foxhound had to spend time refuelling the remaining patrol boat before they could continue their voyage. Charles jettisoned the remaining fuel drums before the two vessels then turned away increasing speed towards Ceylon.
Meanwhile to their south the I-401 was making top speed towards their proposed course, she halted long enough to swing the two planes aboard then raced on while the crew folded the planes and stored them back in the long 115foot cylindrical hanger mounted on her deck. The hours passed and after dark they reached the position they estimated would place them within firing range as the British ships steamed past. The I-401 motored along in the velvet darkness, their radar searching for the Foxhound. The radar operator saw a blip appear on the edge of the screen he announced the find to the control room, the sub's commander ascertained the bearing and distance altering course at full speed to intercept the British vessels.
The action had delayed and in fact made Charles forget about his promise to entertain young Joss, the lad would be asleep by now so he hoped to be able to entertain the lad tomorrow. Foxhound steamed on through the pitch-black night hoping the darkness would mask them from the enemy, unknowing the huge submarine lay in wait ahead.
The I-401 neared the position and after ascertaining the two enemy vessels were proceeding undisturbed, even though zig zagging regularly, he ordered the boat to dive. The roar of water filling the ballast tanks sounded as the huge submarine slowly sank beneath the concealing sea, at 45 feet she levelled off and the commander raised the periscope searching for the flash of white from the speeding vessels bows as they carved their way through the black water. He concentrated squinting through the periscope adjusting the clarity slowly walking the periscope through 360 degrees checking for any nasty surprises then swung back to the bearing called out by the sonar operator. There he peered into the darkness and was rewarded with the brief flash of white water, he zoomed the lens and was able to faintly distinguish Foxhound's blurry indistinct shape. The unsuspecting ship large in the viewfinder as he ordered numbers one and two torpedo tubes ready to fire.
Charles stood on the bridge searching the darkness for any sign of the enemy, the lookouts, on their toes, eagerly searching after all their very lives depended on spotting any trouble before it happened. Charles sixth sense caused the hairs on the back of his neck to bristle, he had a sudden sense of impending doom.
To be continued.