Ghost War Read Free

Free Canadian pilot who served as military liaison officer between the United American Armed Forces and the democratic government of Free Canada.
    And sitting at the far end of the table was Major Hawk Hunter, known to all as The Wingman, the greatest fighter pilot who ever lived.
    It was to him they turned to now.
    Hunter shifted uncomfortably in his chair. For once he was well-rested, but hardly by design. Shortly after the defeat of the Cult forces at Pearl Harbor, he had returned briefly to Okinawa. On the return flight, he somehow ran out of fuel and was forced to ditch on a deserted island at the very western end of the Hawaiian chain.
    He was officially listed as “missing in action,” until his friend, Stan Yastrewski (aka “Yaz”), had a sudden vision from his bed in the sick bay of the Fitz , shortly after coming out of a deep hypnotic coma. From this, Yaz was able to lead rescue forces to Hunter’s small tropical island, where they found the Wingman living the life of Robinson Crusoe, well-tanned, well-fed, and well-rested for the first time in years.
    In retrospect, Hunter was glad that he had taken advantage of the down time on the small island to recoup and recharge. Because he knew now, by the photographic evidence before him, that their war with the Cult—or more specifically the evil forces behind the Cult—was indeed far from over.
    “The good news is this,” Hunter began, referring to a message he’d received shortly before the meeting commenced, “despite the fact that Xmas was totally destroyed, we can rule out a nuclear strike. There were no detectable signs of weapons-related radiation on Crunch’s flight suit, boots or airframe.”
    There was a collective sigh of relief from the others in the room. The nuclear-armed Fire Bats had not been present at the climatic battle of Pearl Harbor. In fact they had not been seen since they disappeared from the waters off the West Coast. One initial fear was that the rogue subs, considered “missing but still operational” by the United American strategic advisory unit, had nuked Xmas.
    Hunter went on. “The bad news is that Crunch’s report also states that three more islands on the eastern edge of the Caroline chain got the same treatment recently.”
    Another tense silence gripped the room.
    “Same M.O.?” Frost asked finally.
    “Apparently so,” Hunter replied. “None of those islands had any strategic military importance whatsoever. They were simply stripped of anything of value, their populations wiped out, and then completely leveled.”
    He studied the photos of Xmas again.
    “I’m convinced this was done by 16-inch high-explosive shells,” Hunter said. He knew that Captain Wolf, the Norse commander of the battleship New Jersey —itself armed with 16-inch guns—would have agreed with him. The formidable Wolf was presently en route to Norway to refit his own battered vessel and would rejoin the allies as soon as possible.
    “I’d say hundreds of big shells, fired in a barrage that lasted for at least four hours, is the only thing that could have caused these craters,” he continued, dropping the prints back on the conference table. “And from the intensity of the firing pattern, it looks like they not only wanted to make sure that everything was destroyed …” he paused and looked at the men around the table. “… they wanted us to know about it.”
    “It’s got to be them,” JT said bitterly, now stating the obvious. “The freaking battleships.”
    Just before the battle for Okinawa, the United Americans had discovered a second, huge Cult manufacturing facility. Located on a string of islands south of Okinawa, this gigantic complex was dedicated to building World-War-II-style battleships. Though they had spotted scores of them steaming out of the gigantic shipbuilding facility, with their hands full on Okinawa, the Americans could do little about them. By the time the Okinawa operation was over, the battleships had