The radar operator stared intently at the view screen in front of him. Pulling his glasses off he rubbed his eyes. It had been 6 hours since they watched the three Navy ships and the one airplane disappear from their scopes. The Coast Guard had launched an intensive search, finding nothing. It was like the ocean itself had swallowed them up leaving no trace. He had heard stories about the Devils Triangle off Florida but didn’t believe any of it, until now.

“Why don’t you pack it in Jack? We’ll get you some relief, go home and get some rest.   You’ve been at it for too long,” the supervisor said handing him a cup of coffee.   “I’m OK, my eyes are just bugging out. I’ll be alright,” he said placing his glasses back on.

“J...Jack! Look your screen!” the supervisor said pointing to the view screen. On the screen four dots appeared.

“Captain! W...what happened?” the second officer spoke.

The Captain quickly pulled his binoculars up and scanned the horizon. The Bismarck was gone, the Livingston was to his starboard side.   Mcbain’s ship was aft along with Storms seaplane.

“Radio operator, try and contact anyone,” the Captain ordered.

“Are we in our own time?” Mallons said softly to the Captain.

“I don’t know, I just don’t know. Try and contact Storm,” the Captain replied.   Sandy watched the Captain and Mallons talk.   She felt worried, more than when they were battling Mcbain.

“Sir, We’ve contacted Norfolk. I requested a time and date check, we’re home sir!” the radio operator smiled.

“Give me a full damage report and casualty list. Contact the Livingston , I want us as far away from Mcbain’s ship as possible!” “Helm, full ahead,” Mallons ordered.   “Captain, there is no contact with Storm,” Mallons spoke softly to him.   “You can’t just leave him there! We have to go back and get him!” Sandy said rushing forward.

“Look young lady, there were 568 crew members on this ship alone. God knows how many have been killed or injured. If something happens to that ship out there again, I’m making sure we’re far enough away from it! I am not going to endanger the lives of my crew and the lives of the Livingston’s crew, is that clear!” he snapped at Sandy.   “Sir, may I request that I take a launch and try and find Storm? I agree with her, we can’t just leave him there,” the second officer added.

The Captain looked into the mans face, trying to decide if it was worth the risk.   “Request approved, just make it snappy!” the Captain barked.

“I’m going with you!” Sandy said following the second officer.

“No, your not. Stay here, I’ll be back before you know it,” the second officer said turning to leave.

“Not on your life! You held me back once before, but not now!” she demanded.   The second officer looked at the Captain who just nodded. They both turned and headed out of the bridge.

Soon they were in the launch being lowered to the water. In the far distance, they could just barely make out the form of Mcbain’s ship. A great fume of water sprayed up in the air and the ship listed onto its side.   “We have to hurry! The ships going down!” the second officer said looking at Sandy.   The hull of the launch touched the moving water. The second officer started the engine and engaged the throttle to match the ships forward speed. At that moment Sandy watched as the ship blinked and faded once than twice then disappeared. The Captain was watching also as the ship disappeared from sight.   “God be with you Storm,” he mumbled below his breath.

Max felt a jolt, his body was floating in the seawater that had entered the room.   He felt himself moving and wondered where he was moving to. He opened his eyes and tried to focus on his surroundings. Clenched tightly in his hand was his sword and scabbard.   Subconsciously he must have grabbed it. The last thing he remembered was pulling the power switch on. Trying to right himself he realized the water was over his head. It now began draining out the hatchway along with him at incredible speed.

Grabbing his sword he clenched it with both hands and positioned it horizontal to his body. When he reached the hatchway the sword stopped him from being sucked out of the room.   Moments later all the water was gone and he still found himself hanging. The ship must have been going down vertically. Why the water wasn’t flooding through the ship he could only guess. One thing was for certain, once he reached a critical depth, the ship would implode along with him.

Twisting the sword sideways he dropped the five feet or so to the wall below. The ship felt like it had stopped but he knew better.

“Maybe if I can get off the ship quick enough I can still make it to the surface,” he thought to himself.

Hurrying along the walls he made his way up to deck level. He was surprised that there was no water to be found. He cautiously moved to the hatch leading outside. Stepping out onto the deck he clung tightly to the side rail.   What greeted him made his heart pound in fear. The whole ship was out of the water! The bow was jammed deep into what looked like the seabed. As far as he could see in all directions were what could only be described as ‘the bed of the ocean’. Next to the ship was the seaplane that had been next to the ship in the other time frame.   “What the hell happened?” he thought out loud.

Sliding down the rail he found the gangplank and lowered it. The bottom of the rail hit hard against the dried seabed.   Placing the sword over his shoulder he cautiously climbed his way down the ladder.   When he reached the bottom he reached down and touched the dried dirt.

“Damn, this has to be the seabed!” he mused to himself.

Looking up to the sky he then noticed that it was a gray slate color. The kind of sky he remembered seeing just before it snowed back in New Hampshire. It was obvious to him at that point that he had transported through time again, where he could only guess.   A loud groan that shook his body resounded from behind him. Looking at the ship he bolted forward to the seaplane. Climbing in he tossed the sword next to him and tried the ignition switch bringing the engines to life.   Without waiting for them to come fully up to speed he forced the plane forward. It bounced from side to side the wheels following the rough contours of the ground. Moments later he was airborne. He watched as the massive ship rumbled and teetered a little to the left then fell totally over the crash throwing metal and dirt high into the air.

A piece of flying debris impacted against his starboard propeller sheering it completely off. The engine began to smoke and sputter. Max pressed the emergency shutdown and engaged the fire control, spilling gallons of foam into the engine compartment. He increased the other engines throttle to compensate for the loss. The plane lost altitude but slowly leveled out. Max checked his compass heading, and pointed the plane due west. Within five or ten minutes he figured he should see Norfolk.

Twenty minutes passed and still nothing.   He then tried a long shot. Pulling the yoke over he steered due north. His mind reeled with the possibilities but only one he thought of could explain what had happened - the earths magnetic poles had been reversed! He tried to think of what could have caused such a catastrophic disaster, had an asteroid hit the planet? Had man finally pushed the button?   The possibilities were endless.   Max finally came to the ocean, it was apparent to him that the oceans of the world had shifted. He hoped, and prayed that inland there would be something left of humanity. He looked down at this compass, if it was correct he was going due north. It was then he noticed his fuel gauge, it read only a quarter of a tank left. He tapped it to make sure. If it was correct, he would soon have to turn around and head back to the ship. Maybe he could get the time unit working again, he doubted it but there always was a distinct possibility.   He check his radio directional finder for any indication of signals. There came a faint beep to the northeast. He changed the planes direction until it matched the signal direction.

It didn’t take him long to see land rise up in the distance. As he drew closer he could see what he thought were buildings. The closer he came he realized that they were indeed buildings, only they were shattered their supporting girders sticking out where there once was another ten floors. From Max’s altitude he could see that the whole city was virtually destroyed. Arcing around the city he noticed an abandoned airfield to the south.   Bringing the plane down he scanned it as closely as possible to make sure there were no hidden obstructions. He then arced the plane up and brought it down the wheels gently but firmly touching the runway. Taxiing the plane off the runway he scanned the surroundings.   The tower was irrefutably destroyed, the roof was gone along with a good portion of the control area.

Noticing an open hanger that was still standing, he slowly brought the plane inside spinning it around in case he needed to get away quickly. He hesitated shutting of the engine, wondering if he should just try and find fuel and get out. Go back to the ship and find a way to repair the damaged time unit.   Choosing to at least find the fuel, he shut down the port engine listening to it whine down. He grabbed his sword and pushed open the drop away door. Silence greeted him as he stepped out onto the dusty and dirty concrete floor. Stepping back into the plane he rummaged through the goods that were left in the plane after their battle with Mcbain.   He found Mac10 machine pistol with three full clips, about five days worth of MRE’s, and a small medical kit. Max loaded the items into a small shoulder bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“Remind me to thank Tinker, if, I ever get back,” he said looking skyward.   Chambering the first round in the gun he strapped his sword over his other shoulder and headed out of the hanger. The silence was unnerving as his ears strained to pick up any sounds of life. Near the hanger was an office, opening the door he noticed two 10gallon jerry cans. Grabbing them he then glanced around the office. It was then he noticed the dust covered papers on the desk. He put down the jerry cans and walked over picking them up and blowing the dust off them. Glancing at the top of the page his blood ran cold. He now knew where and when he had been placed. He was in Chicago, and the year was June 8 th 2010.