Submerged Fury - The Leviathan War

By Charles Eugene Anderson

In the vein of Tom Clancy's gripping military thrillers, Submerged Fury: The Leviathan War plunges readers into a high-stakes undersea battleground where the fate of civilization teeters on the edge.

It's 2098, and the world is reeling from the shockwaves of a groundbreaking discovery: vast energy reserves hidden in the ocean's abyss. This revelation sparks a ferocious conflict among submerged factions, catapulting the Atlantic Coalition's thirst for supremacy. Their secret weapon? Leviathan, a monstrous marvel of genetic engineering designed to command the seas through terror. With the ability to decimate entire metropolises, this aquatic titan threatens an unparalleled reign of destruction.

Enter Commodore Elara Reyes, commanding the state-of-the-art attack submarine UOS Phoenix, the only force daring enough to confront this marine juggernaut. Outnumbered and outflanked, Reyes leans heavily on her crew's unparalleled expertise and a prototype railgun, their last hope to neutralize Leviathan's menace. The stakes are astronomical; their failure could spell annihilation for countless lives.

From the swirling currents of Panama City's canals to the foreboding depths of the Mariana Trench, this globe-trotting saga delivers relentless action, futuristic scientific conundrums, and ethical quandaries that echo long after the climax. In a battle of wits and technology against the primal wrath of a living weapon, Submerged Fury: The Leviathan War ensnares readers in a shadowy world of undersea combat and a colossal clash between humanity's resourcefulness and nature's raw power. Followers of science fiction and deep-sea escapades will find this novel a thrilling and inventive addition to the genre.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mad Cow Press
• Release date: Dec 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223385509

Charles Eugene Anderson

Charles Eugene Anderson lives in Colorado. Chuck is a former teacher. He now spends his time writing, hanging out with his pup, Champ, and learning how to bake. More about Chuck at http://charleseugeneanderson.com

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Naval Academy, Pearl City

September 18, 2070

Professor Kamau stood at the podium in lecture hall B-12, gazing at the assembled midshipmen before him. As an expert in 20th and 21st-century naval history, he always appreciated opportunities to teach the next generation of officers the essential context behind current geopolitics.

Clearing his throat, Professor Kamau began. Good morning, midshipmen. Today's lecture provides crucial background on the formations of our present-day superpower blocs - the Pacific Alliance and the Atlantic Coalition. Please take careful notes, as this history remains directly relevant to your duties ahead.

He activated a map projection showing the two alliance spheres. As you know, today's Pacific Alliance emerged in response to the aggressive expansionism of the Atlantic Coalition in the late 21st century. But how did we reach this point of global rivalry?

Pacing the stage, Professor Kamau continued. Many historians trace the roots back to the Aquaflux Crisis of 2065. The discovery of rich Aquaflux energy deposits in international waters sparked fierce competition. The Atlantic Coalition claimed exclusive mining rights, threatening war to secure their stake.

Murmurs rose from the midshipmen. Kamau raised a hand for silence. Yes, tensions ran high. In response, the nations of the Pacific Rim formed a united front - the genesis of our modern Alliance. For the first time, longtime rivals like China, Japan, and India aligned to counter Atlantic domination.

The projection showed the rapid growth of Alliance membership over the decades. Bolstered by U.S. leadership and military prowess, the Alliance soon recruited Australia, Mexico, the Philippines, and others. Together, they commanded the Pacific seaboard and western economy.

Kamau zoomed in on the Atlantic Coalition's domains. Feeling threatened, the Atlantic nations also forged a unified bloc - the Europeans, Russia, North African states, and South American partners. The 21st-century cold war had begun in earnest.

Striding to the center stage, Professor Kamau crossed his arms. Now you hopefully understand the roots of Alliance naval doctrine - collective security against Atlantic control of the high seas. We remain vigilant so their ambition never imperils free and open access for all.

A female midshipman, Reyes, in the front row, raised her hand. Professor Kamau, if the Alliance was formed to counter the Coalition's aggression, why do we continue aggression ourselves? Wouldn't it be better to sue for peace?

Kamau chuckled. An insightful question, midshipmen. You're correct that cycles of violence often escalate without wisdom. He arched an eyebrow humorously. However, unfortunately, humanity's history shows that weakness and appeasement often encourage exploitation. As my esteemed colleague Professor Nakamura jokes, we've all seen that kid on the playground who'll take your whole lunch if you offer him a cookie.

A ripple of appreciative laughter passed through the lecture hall. Kamau smiled and continued pacing the stage, hands behind his back. While we must be judicious in deterrent actions, letting down our guard completely would be tantamount to unconditional surrender. The Atlantic bloc has given little reason to trust promises of restraint if dominance shifted.

Kamau turned back to the class. True lasting peace requires balance and vigilance from all sides. The Alliance remains strong so that others are dissuaded from thoughts of conquest. Mutual security allows gradual tension reduction over time.

The female midshipmen nodded, satisfied. Kamau gave a thin smile. An officer's duties are complex. You will need wisdom to navigate the grey areas ahead. But always remember your sacred charge - to be stalwart guardians, not ruthless aggressors. That is the Alliance Navy's proud legacy.

The lecture hall lights came up, signaling the class' conclusion. We'll continue this discussion next week. For now, focus on chapters 4-6. They will provide essential context on the naval tactics that first stopped Atlantic expansionism. Dismissed.

The midshipmen rose, minds churning with the insights into their roles ahead. Professor Kamau gazed after them proudly. Though the burden was heavy, he knew this next generation would steer true when called upon to preserve the peace.

UOS Atlantis

December 27, 2085

Elara stood resolute atop the conning tower of the UOS Atlantis, her maiden command, as the frigid spray of the Icelandic coast's waves kissed her face. The once-sleek submarine lay crippled, its proud form now marred by the scars of a merciless enemy assault. Smoke and flames danced below, and the vessel's steel structure groaned in anguish beneath the strain.

Lieutenant Commander Royce's urgency matched the cacophony of blaring alarms. Captain, we're going down! Abandon ship now!

Caught in a maelstrom of emotions, Elara hesitated, her heart torn between duty and despair. Her vessel, her responsibility, was now a sinking shadow of its former self. This was meant to be her crowning moment, a triumphant testament to her leadership. Instead, it had turned into an unforeseen tragedy.

Abandon ship, all hands! Head for the Life Pods! Royce's command shattered her momentary trance. He reached out to guide her to safety, but she recoiled, her determination unyielding.

No! I won't leave her! Elara's voice quivered, carrying the weight of her unwavering bond with the Atlantis. It was her charge, her honor, and she couldn't bear to forsake it.

Royce's eyes met hers, a mixture of understanding and determination mirrored in his gaze. Captain, time is against us. I can't allow you to perish with the ship.

A nod to Chief Petty Officer Watts brought him to their side. Together, they gently but firmly urged Elara away from the conning tower, her protests ringing futilely in the chaotic air.

Resistance waned as Elara glanced back one final time, watching her vessel succumb to the relentless embrace of the waves. A symphony of thoughts echoed in her mind – the lives entrusted to her care, the memories etched into the submarine's metal heart, and the ghosts of those who had fought valiantly beside her.

Then, the world was engulfed in darkness, the shockwave erasing consciousness as swiftly as it had swallowed the Atlantis.

Awakening was a gradual process, reality seeping back into her senses. She found herself adrift, surrounded by a sea of uncertainty. The Atlantis and her comrades were gone, sacrificed to the deep – only she and a select few had been spared, their lives preserved by the unyielding resolve of her officers.

Moments coalesced, forming a patchwork of memories in Elara's mind—the shockwave, the abyssal depths, and the realization that her vessel was forever lost.

Not sharing a pod with fellow survivors, Elara's gaze wandered to the horizon as the sun descended. The once-stalwart souls now adrift alongside her were silent, eyes vacant as they grappled with their shared ordeal.

Dusk painted the sky with melancholic hues, and Elara's thoughts converged on her fallen crew. She pondered their sacrifice, her heart heavy with grief and gnawing guilt. She had been their leader and protector and felt like she had failed them.

As dusk descended, Elara grappled with the burdens of being the lone survivor. She replayed the final moments aboard the Atlantis in her mind. Why had her trusted officers defied protocol and ensured her escape? Why had they not allowed her to go down with the vessel, as was customary of a captain?

Survivor's guilt clawed at her, merciless and unrelenting. As their leader, she had failed to protect them. Now, their voices were silenced forever while she continued without them. Elara agonized over whether she could have done more to save her crew and ship. Or was their fate sealed by that first barrage of enemy fire? These questions threatened to pull her into an abyss more profound than the one that had swallowed the proud Atlantis.

Elara had only a vague sense of where they were in the life pod. The frigid air and choppy seas told her they must be somewhere off Iceland's treacherous northern coast. But beyond that, their location was a mystery. They were helpless specks in a vast, uncaring ocean without power or navigation equipment. Still, Elara clung to a faith that the currents would eventually carry them to shore. She had to believe there was a purpose for why she had been spared when so many others had not.

The life pod bobbed aimlessly, a poly-driftwood vessel on an endless expanse. With the shroud of night came distant illumination – the approach of a helicopter. Its dazzling spotlight pierced the darkness, and a voice echoed through the clamor of its rotors.

Operations search and rescue team here. Preparing to deploy a hook for extraction.

A rescue diver descended, orchestrating the rescue of Elara and her companions. They were lifted from the pod individually, ascending toward salvation amidst the deafening tumult.

Upon reaching the aircraft's interior, Elara was cocooned in warmth, a blanket offered as a shield against the biting chill. A medic offered water, but her thoughts remained fixated on the watery grave that now held her beloved Atlantis and her gallant crew.

The helicopter surged toward an awaiting carrier, the ocean's expanse a desolate mirror below. Elara peered downward, contemplating the depths that concealed the legacy of her ship and its defenders.

A sudden clarity washed over her, like a lighthouse beam cutting through the fog. Her crew had spared her, knowing she was their dedication's living embodiment. Their sacrifice was not vain; she bore their memories, valor, and unwavering commitment.

A quiet resolve settled within her. The Atlantis might have met its end, but its spirit lived on through her. She owed it to her fallen comrades to continue their mission, to stand unwavering in the face of adversity.

Wiping away tears, Elara straightened her posture, resolute determination overcoming her grief. Though the war had taken a grim toll, the fight was far from over. She could not falter now.

As the helicopter carried her away, Elara turned to the rescue diver and asked over the deafening rotors, Were there any other survivors?

The diver shook his head solemnly. No, ma'am. Yours was the only pod recovered.

His words were a punch to her gut. She was the sole living remnant of the Atlantis and its once mighty crew. The enormity of that loss threatened to crush her spirit.

But she refused to surrender to despair. Her crew had sacrificed themselves so she could carry on their legacy. Steeling herself, Elara inhaled deeply, gathering strength for the challenges ahead.

Peering down at the frigid black ocean, she knew the sunken Atlantis now lay as a treasured tomb for her fallen comrades. She whispered a prayer, honoring their memory and sacrifice.

As the carrier came into view, Elara steeled her resolve. There would be time to mourn later. Now, duty called once more. She would continue the fight in their name, drawing courage from their indomitable strength to guide her. This war was far from over.

Thirteen years later, Elara still vividly remembered her lost crew. Their memory remained etched in her heart.

CHAPTER 1

JUNE 22, 2098

UOS Phoenix

Abone-chilling arctic wind lashed across the flight deck of the Arleigh Burke-class destroyer UOS Kidd , the sting of the bitter cold almost as piercing as the geopolitical tensions simmering beneath the gray North Atlantic swells. Huddled in her bridge coat, Captain Elara Reyes studied the latest encrypted briefing from Pacific Alliance Command with masterful focus, her dark eyes absorbing the details of her next mission even as her raven hair whipped wildly in the gale, foreshadowing the coming storm.

This was one of the blind spots on Earth where the Atlantic Coalition's satellites couldn't see them, and their other surveillance devices would be unable to detect the presence of the stealth submarine UOS Phoenix.

Elara glanced over the orders, unsurprised by their contents. She had expected them, but her crew had not. She longed to share the specifics with her trusted officers, but operational security was paramount.

It's what we anticipated, Lieutenant Kamal, but I can't disclose particulars just yet, she told her second-in-command. His stoic face revealed nothing, though she knew he was itching for more details. In due time, old friend, she thought.

Elara made her way below decks, the wind dissipating as she descended into the sleek submarine's interior. Her crew stood at crisp attention as she entered the control room.

At ease. Prepare to disembark, she ordered. Our next mission is need-to-know until we're underway.

The bridge came to life, officers and technicians assuming their stations to guide the Phoenix into open waters. Elara observed with quiet pride. She had hand-picked every crew member; no finer sailors were in the fleet.

Elara's thoughts turned to the days ahead as the submarine glided out of the protective harbor. Tensions between the Pacific Alliance and the Atlantic Coalition were boiling. The discovery of rich deposits of Aquaflux—a revolutionary energy source—in international waters had sparked a clash over mining rights. Control of Aquaflux was critical to underwater dominance.

Elara's mission was twofold: covertly chart the Aquaflux reserves to strengthen the Pacific Alliance's territorial claims and monitor the worrying activities of the Atlantic Coalition in the disputed sector. Strong evidence suggested the Atlantic Coalition was developing a dangerous new superweapon, code-named Leviathan. Elara aimed to find proof of its existence.

Listen closely, sailors. Our mission is twofold - to covertly survey valuable undersea Aquaflux deposits and to uncover intelligence on a suspected Atlantic Coalition superweapon development project. This operation's success hinges on the utmost secrecy and caution. While I cannot disclose details just yet, I know that what we discover in the coming days could alter the course of this conflict and the fate of our alliance. I hand-picked each of you for your skills, courage, and discretion. Stay sharp and trust in your shipmates, for we face dark waters ahead.

Elara scrutinized the stoic faces of her crew as she spoke. After years of serving together, she forged an unbreakable trust bond between them. She knew they would rise to meet the challenge no matter the obstacles ahead. Their unity and dedication inspired her with utter confidence.

Elara meant every word. In her two years commanding the Phoenix, they had never failed her. She would place her life in their hands countless times in the coming days. And she knew they would never falter