Defending Home

“What are you reading?”

“I’m reading depth 30 feet. Target is 100 yards out, Captain.” Teflon wanted to fire, but Captain Berg would not give the command.

“Closing fast, Captain!” another crew member shouted.

“Cap?” Teflon could not keep the fear out of his voice. “Fifty yards!”

“Hold steady, Corporal. Hold steady.” Captain Berg’s voice was low and calm. Teflon was sure they would be dead in no short order. He grabbed his stub of a pencil and a small bit of paper. He wanted to leave his wife a note. He would not be going home again. He was sure of it. His would be a watery grave.

“Cap, they’re almost on top of us!” The call came from the rear of the ship.

“Precisely.” The captain smiled, pushing up on a plunger near the top of the sub’s control room. Teflon felt the sub lurch downward. The entire sub shuddered.

“What the…” Someone yelled.

“Secure that!” Captain Berg belted out. Teflon felt a percussion, then another, than another. Then an eerie silence fell over the submarine. He looked back at his screens. They flashed several times.

“They’re gone,” he said, the breath he had been holding escaping like water from a fire hose. “Gone!”

“We’ve secured victory, Men!” Berg’s fist pumped the air. “The De-Structor performed exactly as it should.”

Teflon swiped at his headphones, letting them fall to his feet. Cheer erupted across the sub. The Martians were no match for the De-Structor. Three ships taken out in one felt swoop!

“Corporal, set a course for the mainland,” Captain Berg said, lighting a cigar.

“Yessir!” the reply came.

Word count: 271