Weapons of Choice — Axis Of Time Book I Read online

  About this book . . .

  * * *

  Weapons of Choice

  Book I of the Axis of Time Trilogy

  By John Birmingham

  * * *

  On the eve of America’s greatest victory in the Pacific, a catastrophic event disrupts the course of World War II, forever changing the rules of combat....

  The impossible has spawned the unthinkable. A military experiment in the year 2021 has sent an American led international armada back to 1942 right in the middle of the U.S. naval task force speeding to Midway Atoll—and what was to be the most spectacular U.S. triumph of the entire war.

  Thousands die in the chaos, but ripples have only begun. For these veterans of Pearl Harbor—led by Admirals Nimitz, Halsey, and Spruance—have never seen a helicopter, or a satellite link, or a nuclear weapon. And they‘ve never encountered an African American colonel or a British naval commander who is a woman, and half-Pakistani. While they embrace the armada's awesome firepower, they may find the twenty-first-century sailors far from acceptable.

  Initial jubilation at the news the Allies will ultimately win is quickly doused by the chilling realization the the time travelers themselves—by their very presence—have rendered history null and void. Dread increases when the possibility arises that other elements of the twenty-first-century armada may have also made the trip—and be aiding Yamamoto and the Japanese.

  What happens next is anybody’s guess, and everybody’s nightmare....

  * * *

  Weapons of Choice

  Book I of The Axis of Time

  John Birmingham

  * * *

  Weapons of Choice is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A Del Rey® Book

  Published by Ballantine Books

  Copyright © 2004 by John Birmingham

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Del Rey Books, a imprint of Random House, Inc., New York and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada, Limited, Toronto.

  Del Rey is a registered trademark, and the Del Rey Colophon is a trademark of the Random House, Inc.

  www.delreydigital.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on request to the publisher.

  ISBN: 0-345-45712-9

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Mass Market Edition: June 2004

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  18 Feb 2006 : Anther fine leech from #bookz - dunno whose scan/proof, but missing txt in one place. Otherwise excellent Job. Converted for .lit and edited for style by EvilRich, HTML not posted cause it was good for BetterLit with almost no changes. —EvilRich

  Dedication:

  For Jane, the believer

  Thanks are due to Garth Nix, who first led me down this long and winding path. To Russ Galen, who filled my beggar’s bowl. To Steve Saffel, who suffered as no mortal editor should ever have to suffer. To Keith Clayton, who kicked butt as Trapper John to Steve’s Hawkeye, and Crystal Velasquez, who could easily get a job project managing a time machine. To Cate Paterson, my sword and shield. And Brianne Tunnicliffe, for riding shotgun on this madness. The rock-steady babes at the Queensland Writers Centre are owed my thanks and gratitude. And Pete McAllister, as always, was a dude. There is no way I can repay the loving support of my family, Jane, Anna, and Thomas, except maybe by getting away from the keyboard more often.

  Dramatis Personae

  MULTINATIONAL FORCE

  COMMANDERS

  Anderson, Captain Daytona, USN. Commander, USS Leyte Gulf.

  Francois, Captain Margie, USMC. Combat surgeon and chief medical officer, Multinational Force. (USS Kandahar.)

  Halabi, Captain Karen, RN. Commander, British contingent; deputy commander, Multinational Force; commander, HMS Trident.

  Jones, Colonel J. L., USMC. Commander, Eighty-second Marine Expeditionary Unit. (USS Kandahar.)

  Judge, Commander Mike, USN. Executive officer, USS Hillary Clinton.

  Kolhammer, Admiral Phillip, USN. Task force commander, USS Hillary Clinton.

  Miyazaki, Sub-Lieutenant Maseo, JMSDF. Acting commander, JDS Siranui.

  Moertopo, Lieutenant Ali, TNI-AL. Acting commander, KRI Sutanto.

  Willet, Captain Jane, RAN. Commander, HMAS Havoc.

  Windsor, His Royal Highness Captain Harry. Commander, British SAS contingent.

  MULTINATIONAL FORCE

  PERSONNEL

  Bukowski, Specialist Waylon, USMC. First Platoon, B Company. (USS Kandahar.)

  Chen, Second Lieutenant Henry, USMC. Third Platoon, C Company. (USS Kandahar.)

  Damiri, Sub-Lieutenant Usama, TNI-AL. Information systems officer, KRI Sutanto.

  Hannon, Second Lieutenant Biff, USMC. First Platoon, B Company. (USS Kandahar.)

  Harford, Flight Lieutenant Chris, USN. Helicopter pilot, USS Hillary Clinton.

  Hayes, Flight Lieutenant Amanda, USN. Helicopter pilot, USS Hillary Clinton.

  Ivanov, Major Pavel, Russian Federation Spetsnaz. On secondment to U.S. Navy SEALs. (USS Kandahar.)

  Nguyen, Lieutenant Rachel, RAN. Close-In Weapons System operator. (HMAS Moreton Bay.) Seconded to History Working Group. (USS Hillary Clinton.)

  Rogas, Chief Petty Officer Vincente, U.S. Navy SEALs. (USS Kandahar.)

  Thieu, Lieutenant Edgar, USN. Media relations officer, USS Hillary Clinton.

  MISCELLANEOUS

  Duffy, Julia. New York Times feature writer. Embedded Eighty-second MEU.

  Natoli, Rosanna. CNN researcher/producer. Embedded Eighty-second MEU.

  Pope, Professor Manning. Project director, Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency.

  1942 ALLIED COMMANDERS

  Churchill, Winston. Prime minister, Great Britain.

  Curtin, John. Prime minister, Commonwealth of Australia.

  Eisenhower, Brigadier General Dwight D. U.S. Army. Head of War Plans Division. Appointed commander of U.S. forces, European theater of operations, June 1942.

  King, Admiral Ernest J., USN. Commander in chief of the U.S. Fleet and chief of naval operations.

  MacArthur, General Douglas, U.S. Army. Commander, Allied Forces, South West Pacific Area. Headquartered Brisbane, Australia.

  Marshall, General George C., U.S. Army. Chairman, Joint Chiefs of Staff.

  Nimitz, Admiral Chester, USN. Commander in chief, U.S. Pacific Fleet.

  Roosevelt, President, Franklin D. Thirty-second president of the United States of America.

  Spruance, Rear Admiral Raymond A., USN. Commander, Task Force Sixteen.

  1942 ALLIED PERSONNEL

  Black, Lieutenant Commander Daniel, USN. Assistant operations and planning chief to Admiral Spruance. (USS Enterprise.)

  Curtis, Ensign Wally, USN. Assistant payroll clerk, USS Enterprise.

  Davidson, Able Seaman James “Slim Jim,” USS Astoria.

  Evans, Lieutenant Commander Peter. Acting commander, USS Astoria.

  Mohr, Chief Petty Officer Eddie, USS Astoria.

  Molloy, Able Seaman Michael “Moose,” USS Astoria.

  Ryan, Warrant Officer Peter, New Guinea Volunteer Rifles. Patrol officer.

  MISCELLANEOUS

  Cherry, Detective Sergeant Lou, Honolulu PD, Homicide.

  Einstein, Professor Albert, Nobel laureate.

  AXIS HIGH COMMAND

  JAPAN:

  Kakuta, Rear Admiral Kakuji, IJN. Commander, Second Carrier Striking Force. (HIJMS Ryujo.)

  Yamamoto, Admiral Isoroku, IJN. Commander in chief, Combined Fleet. (HIJMS Yamamoto.)
<
br />   GERMANY

  Göbbels, Reichsminister Josef. German propaganda minister.

  Himmler, Reichsführer Heinrich. SS chief.

  Hitler, Reichschancellor Adolf.

  AXIS PERSONNEL

  Brasch, Major Paul. Engineer.

  Hidaka, Lieutenant Commander Jisaku, IJN. Chief of staff to Rear Admiral Kakuta. (HIJMS Ryujo.)

  Skorzeny, Colonel Otto. Personal bodyguard to Adolf Hitler.

  Steckel, Franz. SS-Obersturmführer of the SD-Ausland, a lieutenant in the Nazi Party’s foreign intelligence service.

  SHIPS OF THE MULTINATIONAL FORCE

  USS Hillary Clinton. George Bush–class supercarrier.

  USS Kandahar. Bagdhad-class littoral assault ship.

  USS Leyte Gulf. Nemesis-class stealth cruiser.

  USS Garret. Cobb-class air warfare destroyer.

  USS Providence. Harper’s Ferry–class amphibious landing dockship.

  USS Kennebunkport. LPD 12 landing assault ship.

  HMS Trident. Trident-class stealth destroyer (trimaran).

  HMS Vanguard. Trident-class stealth destroyer (trimaran).

  HMS Fearless. Aden-class helicopter assault ship.

  HMAS Havoc. Savage-class attack submarine (conventional).

  HMAS Moreton Bay. Jervis Bay–class troop-carrying catamaran.

  HMAS Ipswich. Newcastle-class light littoral assault ship.

  KRI Sutanto. Reconditioned Parchim-class frigate of the Indonesian navy (TNI-AL).

  KRI Nuku. Reconditioned Parchim-class frigate of the Indonesian navy (TNI-AL).

  Dessaix. Sartre-class stealth destroyer of the French navy.

  PART ONE

  * * * * *

  TRANSIT

  1

  EAST TIMOR, ZONE TIME: 0942 HOURS, 15 JANUARY 2021

  The Caliphate spy, a Javanese carpenter known simply as Adil, resettled himself against a comfortable groove in the sandalwood tree. The small, shaded clearing in the hills overlooking Dili had been his home for three days. He shared it with an aged feral cat, which remained hidden throughout the day, and an irritable monkey, which occasionally tried to shit on his head. He had considered shooting the filthy animal, but his orders were explicit. He was to remain unnoticed as long as the crusaders were anchored off East Timor, observing their fleet and sending reports via microburst laser link, but only in the event of a “significant development.”

  He had seen nothing “significant” in seventy-two hours. The infidel ships were lying so far offshore they were often lost in haze and distance. Only when night fell did he have any real chance of seeing them, and even then they remained little more than a blurred constellation of twinkling, faraway lights. Such was their arrogance they didn’t bother to cloak themselves in darkness.

  Jets roared to and from the flight deck of their carrier twenty-four hours a day. In deepest night the fire of the launches appeared to Adil as though God Himself had lit a torch on the rim of the world.

  Occasionally a helicopter would appear from the direction of the flotilla, beginning as a small, indistinct dot in the hot gray sky, taking on recognizable form only as the muffled drone of its engines clarified into a thudding, growling roar. From his hiding spot Adil could almost make out the faces of the infidels in the cabins of the fat metal birds. American, British, French, they all looked alike, cruel and overfed, a thought that reminded him of his own hunger.

  He unwrapped the banana leaves from around a small rice cake, thanking Allah for the generosity of his masters. They had included a little dried fish in his rations for today, a rare treat.

  Sometimes, when the sun climbed directly overhead and beat down with a slow fury, Adil’s thoughts wandered. He cursed his weakness and begged God for the strength to carry out his duty, but it was hard. He had fallen asleep more than once. Nothing ever seemed to happen. There was plenty of movement down in Dili, which was infested with crusader forces from all over the Christian world, but Dili wasn’t his concern. His sole responsibility was to watch those ships that were hiding in the shimmering haze on the far horizon.

  Still, Adil mused, it would be nice to know he had some real purpose here; that he had not been staked out like a goat on the side of a hill. Perhaps he was to be part of some elaborate strike on the Christians in town. Perhaps tonight the darkness would be torn asunder by holy fire as some martyr blew up one of their filthy taverns. But then, why leave him here on the side of this stupid hill, covered in monkey shit and tormented by ants?

  This wasn’t how he had imagined jihad would be when he had graduated from the Madrasa in Bandung.

  USS KANDAHAR, 1014 HOURS, 15 JANUARY 2021

  The marines wouldn’t have been surprised at all to discover that someone like Adil was watching over them. In fact, they assumed there were more than two hundred million pairs of eyes turned their way as they prepared to deploy into the Indonesian Archipelago.

  Nobody called it the Caliphate. Officially the United States still recognized it as the sovereign territory of Indonesia, seventeen thousand islands stretching from Banda Aceh, three hundred kilometers off the coast of Thailand, down to Timor, just north of Australia. The sea-lanes passing through those islands carried a third of the world’s maritime trade, and officially they remained open to all traffic. The Indonesian government-in-exile said so—from the safety of the Grand Hyatt in Geneva where they had fled, three weeks earlier, after losing control of Jakarta.

  Unofficially though, these were the badlands, controlled—just barely—by a revolutionary Islamic government calling itself the Caliphate and laying claim to all seventeen thousand islands, as well as the territory of Malaysia, the Philippines, Brunei, East Timor, Papua New Guinea, Bougainville, and, for good measure, northern Australia. Nonbelievers were not welcome. The spiritual leader of the Caliphate, Mullah Ibn Abbas, had proclaimed this as the will of Allah.

  The Eighty-second Marine Expeditionary Unit begged to differ. And on the hangar deck of the USS Kandahar, a Baghdad-class littoral assault ship, they were preparing a full and frank rebuttal.

  The hangar was a vast, echoing space. Two full decks high and running nearly a third of the length of the slab-sided vessel, it still seemed crowded, packed tight with most of the Eighty-second’s air wing—a small air force in its own right consisting of a dozen Ospreys, four aging Super Stallions, two reconditioned command Hueys, eight Sea Comanche gunships, and half a dozen Super Harriers.

  The Harriers and Super Stallions had been moved onto the “roof”—the flight deck, thus allowing the ground combat element of the Eighty-second MEU to colonize the space that had been opened up. The GCE was formally known as the Third Battalion of the Ninth Regiment, Fifth Marine Division. It was also known as the Lonesome Dead, after their passably famous CO, Colonel J. Lonesome Jones.

  Not all of 3 Batt were embarked upon the Kandahar. The battalion topped out at more than twelve hundred men and women, and some of their number had to be berthed elsewhere in the three ships that were carrying the Eighty-second into harm’s way. The USS Providence, a Harper’s Ferry–class amphibious landing dockship (LSD), took the battalion’s four Abrams tanks, a rifle company, and the amphibious assault vehicle platoon. The Kennebunkport, a venerable LPD 12, carried the recon platoon, the regiment’s Humvees, two more Hueys, the drone platoon, and the Navy SEAL team that would be providing security to the Eighty-second during their cruise through the archipelago.

  Even as Adil unwrapped his rice cake and squinted into the blue expanse of the Wetar Strait a six-man detachment from the SEAL team was unpacking their gear on the hangar deck of the Kandahar, where they were getting set to train the men of C Company, 3 Batt.

  Charlie Company doubled as Colonel Jones’s cliff assault and small boat raiding squadron, and the SEALs had come to acquaint them with a new toy: the G4, a lightweight assault rifle that fired strips of caseless ceramic ammunition and programmable 30mm grenades. It was to become standard equipment throughout the U.S. armed forces within twelve months. The mari
nes, however, were always at the bottom of the food chain, and would probably have waited two years before they laid hands on these toys. But the battalion logistics officer, Lieutenant Colonel Nancy Viviani, was an inventive and talented S4. As always, Viviani was determined that the battalion should have the very best equipment other people’s money could buy.

  Not that long ago she would have been known as a scavenger, a scrounger, and would have done her job under the cover of darkness with a pair of wire cutters and a fast getaway jeep. She would have been a man, too, of course. But Lieutenant Colonel Viviani carried two master’s degrees into combat, one of them an MBA from the London School of Economics, and the graduates of that august institution didn’t stoop to anything so crude as petty theft. Not when they could play the Pentagon’s fantastically complex supply programs like an antique violin.

  Six and a half hours of extracurricular keyboard time had been enough to release a shipment of G4s from pre-positioned supply vessels in Darwin. Viviani’s genius was in making the process appear entirely legitimate. Had the Senate Armed Forces Committee itself spent a year inspecting her electronic audit trail, it would have found everything in order with absolutely nothing linking the G4 shipment to the loss of a similar supply package scheduled for delivery to an army public relations unit.

  “This is the Remington G-four,” CPO Vincente Rogas barked at the members of C Company. “By the end of today’s lecture you will be familiar with the procedure for maintaining this weapon in the field.” It sounded more like a threat than a promise.