Date: Fri, 20 Jun 2008 20:40:40 -0700 (PDT)
From: James Jones <jacanakid21@yahoo.com>
Subject: Atlantic Express, Ch 49

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.

Any comments or suggestions are welcome at my new address
jacanakid21@yahoo.com, all emails answered except flames which are
extinguished on arrival.

Please help keep Nifty free into the future by donating a few ollars to
their coffers.


	      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.