This is a sequel to Valhalla. Submarines for Russia, China, the UK, and America go back to Valhalla to stop a high-tech repressive government from coming to Earth and attacking.
This is the 3rd edition of the second book in the Valhalla series. Recent changes were made so various parts of the interior of the Virginia Class more accurately reflects the actual interior and equipment of those submarines. The Straits of Hell is a sequel to Valhalla that takes place fifteen years in the future. Several Earth submarines go back to Valhalla and fight along side the Black Glove fleet for the safety and well-being of both Earth and Valhalla. Dr. Kurenof has advanced in technology and becomes a major threat to Earth’s future. Some of the main characters in the novel Valhalla return to fight and die for their planet. More of the wonderful and terrible features of the planet Valhalla come to light. The Straits of Hell brings the reader further along in the series and give them a hint of what will happen next.
Excerpt
Small waves lapped against the side of the Oregon, as five people stood on the Bridge, surveying the surrounding ocean. Various floating fragments of debris littered the clean ocean water. Not one cloud marred the clarity of the bright blue sky.
“This looks horrible,” remarked LCDR Jamison. “What happened here?”
“You don’t want to know,” Rucker replied.
“There’s an interesting piece over there,” informed the XO. She pointed fifteen degrees to port, a hundred yards out. “It looks like part of an aircraft.”
Rucker stared at the piece through her binoculars. “I think you’re right. Let’s maneuver closer.” The Captain called down to Control on the phone and had them inch toward the mysterious piece of debris. The topside detail had everything ready, just as the Oregon stopped next to the piece.
COB, have your crew pull that onto the deck. Take pictures of all sides and video the complete operation. Also, take note of all markings on the piece.”
“Aye, Captain.”
The detail consisted of four men and two women. The women and two men grappled the piece with long hooks and hauled the light metal piece onto the deck. One man video recorded the procedure, while the other took digital photos at another angle, for backup purposes.
As the crew secured the piece onto the deck, LCDR Jamison noticed unusual activity on the starboard side. He stared at the area in his binoculars, then suddenly dropped them. The nylon lanyard kept the binoculars from hitting the deck.
Rucker instantly noticed the horror in his eyes. “What’s the matter, Bryan? You don’t look so good.”
“Th-th-there. Starboard.” He pointed to the activity in the water. Everyone stared through their binoculars.
“Oh my god!” CDR Slicke could not contain her disgust.
The Captain looked. She noticed a pair of sharks tearing at something. Up and down in the water they rose, churning the surface with their feeding frenzy. Then, she saw what they were eating. They fed on the upper torso of a man. He had no arms, no legs and no head.
“Shall we fire on them?” asked one of the Petty Officers.
“No. Let them be,” Captain Rucker whispered. There’s no one there to save.”
“Captain, this is the COB.”
“Go ahead, Chief.”
“The piece is part of an aircraft, alright, assigned to the HMS Impregnable. Nothing special. It looks like whatever hit the ship tore things up like a meat grinder.”
“Keep taking pictures, and cut a piece off it you can . . . one with sheared edges.”
“Will do, Captain.”
For the next hour and a half, the topside detail pulled aboard and documented a dozen pieces from the British task force, saving a few of the smaller ones for further examination.
The Exec turned to the CO so the others could not hear. “Is this a common occurrence for one of these wormhole openings?”
“What’s that?”
“All this junk? I was under the impression that everything gets sucked in.”
“So was I. I’m guessing the total mass of the task force was larger than anything previously caught in one of these.”
“You might be right . . . but . . .”
LCDR Jameson tapped Captain Rucker on the shoulder. “Excuse me, ma’am.”
“Yes?”
“Take a gander at the sky ahead of us.”
As they turned to look, they saw a massive storm cloud advancing on them at a high rate of speed. The water around the ship instantly became rough.
“There wasn’t anything in the weather reports that indicated a storm was coming,” insisted the Navigator.
“Oh shit,” Rucker muttered. She grabbed the phone. “COB! Get your people below decks, NOW!”
“Yes, ma’am! Throw that shit overboard and get down below! On the double!”
While the five people on the Bridge hustled down the hatch, the topside detail experienced major difficulties. A large piece of wreckage snagged on Petty Officer Bonny Patton’s safety line as she helped push it overboard. The weight of the piece knocked her off her feet. One of the men jumped, grabbing onto her harness just in time.
On instinct, Chief Hawksworth instantly leaped into action. He attached a spare safety cable to Patton’s harness. “Get below!” he ordered the man. “I can handle this!”
“Let me help!”
“No! I gave you a direct order, Mister! Get yer ass down below, NOW!”
Petty Officer Nichols began climbing down the ladder and when he reached up to unhook his safety line, He stopped. No. Orders or not, I’m not leaving them so easily.
With just one safety line holding him to the ship, the Chief slid down the side to reach Patton’s snagged line. The weight of the wreckage pulled her one way, while the other safety line strained to keep her from going overboard. The opposing forces nearly tore her apart.
The sea savagely lashed at the two sailors dangling from the hull. Relentless in its rage, the sea showed no pity for their plight. Only the technology that went into making the nylon-blend safety lines kept the sea from claiming its new prize.
However, that same technology hindered Chief Hawksworth from saving Petty Officer Patton. He slashed and hacked at the line, making slow progress.
“Hurry, Chief! It hurts!”
“I’m getting it! Just hang in there, Patton! You’re a sub sailor, damnit! I know you can do it!”
“I can’t take it, Chief!”
The Chief cut at the line, but the sea would not let up. A few times, a strong wave would wash him on the deck. He struggled against the forces of Nature to return to Patton. Just before he could finish, a huge wave washed him from one side of the ship to the other. The knife flew from his hands.
Even though the thirty-five year-old Chief exercised religiously, the angry sea had sapped his strength. He called upon all the reserve he could muster up to climb up the side of the ship, but he kept slipping. Patton had passed out from the pain.
Chief Hawksworth could no longer fight the sea. Before he could pass out from exhaustion, he felt a tug on his line. As he reached the top, the strong hand of Petty Officer Nichols pulled him to safety. A second crewmember had finished freeing Patton and began helping her down the hatch.
The Chief and Nichols hurried down the ladder after the other two. Nichols slammed the hatch and dogged it tight, just as a huge wave washed over the deck.
Quickly, Nichols grabbed the phone to Control. “Control, Upper Level Ops. Topside detail all aboard and accounted for. Upper Level Ops rigged for dive.”
“Control, aye.”
Dripping wet, Chief Hawksworth turned to Petty Officer Nichols. “I thought I told you to stay below.” Then, he smiled. “Damn glad you didn’t listen.”
“Actually, Chief, your direct order was ‘Get below’. You never specified for how long.”
“Typical submariner. Remind me to buy you a beer when we get back.”
“One beer? You should be buying me a keg for this.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you so drunk that the Shore Patrol will have to drag our ugly asses back to the boat in a patty wagon. Now, to your station, sailor!”
“Aye, aye, Chief!” Nichols hurried off.
As the drama topside concluded, the rest of the ship finished rigging the ship for dive. Captain Rucker took the Con, while CDR Slicke sat at the Weapons Officer’s chair.
When the word reached Control that Upper Level Ops had been rigged for dive, everyone sprang into action.
“Pilot, ahead Flank. Make your depth three zero zero feet. Rig ship for test depth.”
The Pilot repeated all orders.
I don’t believe this is happening to me, again, thought Rucker. This ship can run rings around the Kansas, so I hope I can get us out of here. “Sonar, keep tabs on the bottom.”
“Aye, aye,”
Captain Rucker picked up the 1MC mic. “Anything that is not already attached to the ship or breathing needs to be secured or tied down. No exceptions.”
Suddenly, the ship shook. All the memories of those days fifteen years ago came flooding back to Marsha Rucker. She found herself a Lieutenant again, standing in Control of the Kansas. The look of horror on her shipmate’s faces had etched an indelible mark in her mind. She hoped never to see that kind of terror again. It became apparent with the next vibration, Fate would not afford her that luxury. At least this time, she can prepare everyone for what would soon happen.
“Control, Sonar. Captain, the ocean bottom disappeared. It’s gone.” The man’s voiced cracked.
“Thank you, Sonar.” Rucker turned to look at the screen on her left. The side view of the ship showed the bottom in the shape of a funnel. So, that’s what it looks like. I didn’t want to go back, but it seems I have no choice, now. “Sonar, make sure you’re recording all of this.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
“Captain, we are being pulled under,” informed CDR Slicke.
“All Stop. Blow all ballast.”
“All Stop, aye. Blowing all ballast. Maneuvering answers All Stop.”
The ship shook, as the ballast tanks filled with air, but the depth of the ship never changed. After a minute, the Oregon started sinking again.
Rucker again picked up the 1MC mic. “This is the Captain. We are caught in a wormhole that connects Earth and Valhalla. I’m sure you heard of the stories about Valhalla. They are all true. I know, because I was on Kansas when it was caught in one of those wormholes, fifteen years ago. So was Chief Smithers. We know from experience what to expect.” She paused.
“At first, we descend into the hole, the ship will groan and creak, just like going to test depth.”
As if to emphasize the Captain’s remarks, the crew heard loud popping sounds.
“See. Like that.” Sweat formed on her brow. “Then we will lose all power and you will all pass out. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine. I’ve been through it twice.” This will be three, damnit. “Just think of it as a bumpy landing in an airplane. Let’s just hope our visit will be a short one and we can return through the next wormhole. Those personnel not on duty, go to your racks. The rest of you, find a secure, safe place and wait. May your God be with all of you.” Just as she placed the mic in its holder, the ship lost power. Shortly after that, the crew lost consciousness.
The ship swirled and twisted, as it entered the vortex between two worlds. Light, time and distance had no meaning in an object that followed its own laws of physics. When the storm on Earth cleared, a golden metal object, five feet in diameter, popped onto the surface. An antenna extended to full length, then the object began sending a signal to a military satellite orbiting overhead. Ten minutes later, the US military went on full alert.
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