1600 hours…

Open Waters…

POV: Captain Charlie...

As the raft lowered into the ocean, a wave of unsettling silence fell over me, John, and both of our Marines. What was on the Missouri? Where was she going? What’s gonna happen when we get close to her metal walls? I couldn’t bear the anxiety. My heart pounded louder and louder into my ear drums as the raft hit the water and the engine revved up.

‘Ready sir?” Came a voice behind me, I turn around and look at the Marine who called me. I shook my head.

“Aye aye.” He said as he pulled the ripcord on the engine, it sputtered to life with a roar and we sped away from the safety of our ship. Closing in on the ghostly silent killer, I automatically grabbed my M9 and checked the magazine inside the gun.

“Okay good, full mag,” I slapped it in again and looked to the other captain in the raft, “John you got your 1911?” I asked after sliding my piece down back into the holster on my belt. John didn’t even turn around, he just whipped his hand down to his side and pulled away his dress shirt revealing a pistol in a holster.

Closer and closer we came, my stomach turned my heartbeat slowed my eyes darted every which way looking at almost everything at the same time, my raft, our ships, Missouri, and every deck I could see. When got the closer I began looking for a way up, unfortunately there wasn’t one. Luckily, we brought along a rope ladder and could easily throw it up to the top deck and climb our way to the top. I tapped on my Marines soldiers, they turn around with confusion. I made a peace sign with my right hand and pointed at my eyes, then to the ship. They got the message for they began scanning the ships decks while I focused on the bridge.

The bridges windows were black, and nothing was moving, as a matter a fact nothing on the ship was moving at all, besides the ship itself. As we pulled up to the starboard wall of the bow, our little raft bumped harmlessly against the ship. We cast our luck with the rope ladder and caught our way up to the top deck, I went first, followed by John, then my Marines, then his.

“When we get up there get your Marines down to the engine room, and pull this beast over. You got me John?” I yelled over the sound of the waves.

“I hear ya, and when you get up there, have your Marines get up to the bridge, check for intel! Got it?” He came back.

“Aye!” I yelled just as my hand touched the wooden paneling of the top deck. As I pulled myself up a bit I raised my head just enough for my eyes to peek over the wall. I scanned the area and looked for any life.

The mighty 16 inch cannons stood above the wooden decks and seagulls circled above the bridges antennas. I pulled my way under the chained fence and snaked my way onto the deck. Standing up, the sure mass of the battleship finally struck me.

The ships guns, it’s tall bridge, the decks, the anti air cannons, the two CIWS systems, the- wait… CIWS cannons? I re adjusted my vision to a small yet stand outish lump on the top decks of the ship. There was one on each side of the ship, behind the second main battery cannon, stood a 20mm CIWS Anti Air Defence system. MY body was washed over with heat, my face turned white as my confusion was nearly incomprehensible. Why was my tech on this ship? This was a World War two Battleship, not a destroyer, it made no sense. Then I remembered something, something important.

The Missouri was upgraded, in 1984. She was given better radar systems, defence/ attacking weapons, and faster electronic warfare weapons. But this raised a problem.

Johns men couldn’t work this ship let alone even half, my weapons were not of their century, they were part of mine. Even if it were possible, me and John couldn’t split both our crews in half and have both halves come together and work, it just wasn’t possible.

This whole time, John and the rest of the Marines were coming up.

“Charlie? are you alright, you don’t look good?” Came John behind me, his hand came in contact with my shoulder. I turned around and looked at him, my face made him cringe.

“This isn’t your ship anymore mate,” I said removing his hand for my shoulder.

“Wait, what do you mean,”Not my ship?” He asked as the the Marines took off, leaving us alone.

“In 1984 and 1985, the Missouri was upgraded with modern tech, my age tech, from my ship. It was called Modernization. She was put into a dry dock and was nearly taken apart piece by piece. Her systems were replaced with new age technology along with weapons and defences.” Upon saying that I pointed to the CIWS systems. He looks up and his chin could have hit the deck if he was on all fours.

“Those were not installed when you heard about her getting built. After her involvement with world war 2 she was decommissioned, but was put back into commission and was given modern tech to make her more reliable.” He continued staring at all the new modern changes that were done to the ship. He seemed to be smiling. Then what really caught me off guard was what came next.

He laughed.

“Oh god, this is amazing!” He yelled. I looked around like I wasn’t the only one seeing this,but I was. I walked closer and began talking.

“How is this good? This ship we can’t possible pilot, it has mine and your tech put together into one, our men can’t work together, they have different training.” Now he stops laughing and looks directly at me.

“Charlie, let me ask you something, what are you?” At first I didn’t know how to answer the question, and spat out the first that came to mind.

“A sailor?”

“Yes, what kind of sailor?”

“A United States Sailor?”

“Good, now look at this ship, this ship was built in my time, and still exists in your time. She is the product of nearly 50 years of combat excellence,and your telling me that, not only we can’t sail this ship, but our men can’t work together because they got different training?”

“Well, yes.” I say rather quickly, I kind of wanted to hear what he had to say next.

“Listen here, we are all sailors of the United States, and this ship was made by the masters of war whom have proven that title for a long time, whether you like it or not, both our ships are a lot similar in more ways than you give them credit for.”

“Like how?” I asked, only to be stopped by an abrupt jolt from the ship, it began slowing down. He snapped his fingers and pointed down to the top deck.

“Like that. If they can stop this ship, they can sail it, all we need to do is get a select few people that can work together and give them specific jobs that they major in. We may not have a full crew, but we don’t need one. And if need be, they can teach each other the basics. ” After listening to his, “speech” I tried to understand where he was coming from.

His idea wasn’t to impossible, maybe we can give it a shot once we pull this ship over.

“Okay John, you got a deal, we’ll split up our crews and assign different jobs to different people, I just hope for your sake this works.”

“Don’t worry it will.” and like that he walked off, I followed him.

We walked through the ship, we moved along the long decks, passing all the different weapons old and new, while marveling at the ships beauty at the same time. It was a great feeling of security, being on this ship, as if this ship was some sort idle we looked up to. I guess you could say I felt like a Million bucks at the time.

Reaching the top decks and the bridge, I looked over the side at the two ships sailing ahead of us, that seemed to be slowing down. I opened the bridge doors, and looked inside.

Then, all hell broke loose.

I could make out the Marines we sent up here to gather intel, they seemed to be staring at something, something that smelt of death. One of them turned around and looked at me and John, tears trailed down his face, his eyes were red and his M16 lay at his side.

“S-sir, you might want to have a look at this.” He said moving out of the way,letting the light from the open doorway flood in and shine on whatever was lying on the ground.

Then my heart fell out of my chest and exploded on the ground. My eyes focused on the pile in the corner of the roof. All I saw was a hand gripping a un loaded M9, bullet casings were near the feet off all the Marines that were standing up.

“Dear god, w-what the FUCK HAPPENED!!!” I scream out.

The rest of the Marines move out of the way, showing the full picture. It wasn’t just one man dead, it was a whole group, there bodies were bullet ridden,dried blood stained there uniforms like dried paint, and they lie on top of each other in a pack. I walked closer to them my mind racing at epic speeds. I lean down to one of the sailors dead bodies, the one with the M9.

He was young, maybe 23, maybe younger,his eyes were blue, his hair was cut above his eyes, and his mouth held a perfect set of teeth. His face was white and his face wore an expression of two emotions, confusion, and rage.

I trail my eyes down his body until my eyes meet his name tag.

“Pvt. Carson… Oh, shit.” I whisper to myself, luckily no one heard me.

I covered up his name tag with another hand and stood up, still making eye contact with the dead man. Now raised a new problem. Carson, was the problem. My mind began recalling memories from when I first meet John.

Carson, was John’s Last name. My entire body went into panic mode as heat flashing began shooting up and down the entire length of my body.

“John, did you have a son?” I ask cutting the air of the silence that again swallowed the room. I could here a small bit of stuttering until his answer came back.

“Yes, why do you ask?” My mouth began to open up as my mind raced for an excuse to say.

“Just wondering.” God I’m stupid. “Men,” I said looking at my Marines that were looking at the bodies. “Clean them up, give them a proper burial, move them off the ship, I can't stand looking at them anymore,” I could see there facing changing into to a worrying state. “I know you don’t want to do this, but, please, hurry.” The men put down their rifles and went to quick work moving the dead bodies off the bridge.

Off course, me and John didn’t stay around for too long, we left the bridge after five more minutes looking at the dead sailors, and stood outside watching the waves of the ocean, while reflecting on the bodies.

We didn’t talk for what felt like ages. Until John broke the silence,

“Charlie, rally your men,” His voice was shaking, and so was he. “ And I’ll rally mine, get them on this ship, and get them ready to fight. We are going to find out who did this, and when we do, we are going to murder them in any way that it’s possible. Maybe even ways that are impossible.” This entire time he was looking over at our ships. “For this act against the U.S. will not go unnoticed, whoever they are, wherever they are, they are going to die.” Now he turns to me, his face was nearly beat red, his eyes were wide and his pupils were smaller than peas.

“Are you going to help me?” I didn’t say anything, I stuck out my hand, and he connected. And we shook on it. My mind had the same exact mindset.

“Neither the past, nor the present, no boundaries, no excuses, no problem.” Saying that, I stopped shaking his hand and made a salute. He returned it,

“Hoorah.”

END OF BOOK ONE