Lieutenant Araragi delivered the captains instructions, but something kept nagging at him. An itch between his shoulder blades caused him to turn around and look up. There, 'way up in the clouds, just visible and climbing, was a gray speck. He whipped up his binoculars and saw through them the craft that the captain had dismissed as a noncombatant "spotter." What in the blazes is that idiot doing? Araragi wondered mentally. Does he not see his comrades getting shot up -! his reverie was interrupted by the rattattatt of heavy machine gunfire, screams of injured and dying men, and the cacophony of ricochets and shattering glass. HE whirled back around, and saw that the bridge had been demolished by one of the aircraft; it could have been nothing else.
"Medics! To the Bridge, NOW! Rescue Personnel, save the captain!" he shouted into the ship's squawkbox that resided on the bulkhead at his shoulder.
A whine from above a minute later grew into a screech, then a sirenlike wail, and he turned back around to see the "harmless" little "rescue" flying boat swooping down at a speed which should have been impossible for such a craft, as she began firing twin synchronized machineguns through the propeller, dipping down below the level of the ship's deck and then back up again, neatly undercutting all AA battery fire, and then ... something ... fall away from the cockpit.
Into the squawkbox the lieutenant shouted, "ALL HANDS! INCOMING BOMB ON STARBOARD SIDE--!" he broke off as the object disappeared from view into the smoke from the exhaust flue. He relaxed. It will miss, after all, he thought. Then, he realized what must have happened as panic gripped his chest. "ALL HANDS!" He shouted again into the squawkbox. "BRACE FO-!" he never finished the sentence, as a relatively small explosion inside the flue was suddenly followed by a much larger one whose shockwave threw him over the side and ripped a gaping hole in the side of the ship, which began to wallow in the water as if something were very wrong with her keel - which it was, in fact - as a giant ball of fire and soot rose skyward, and steam from the ship's ruined boiler began to billow up through the hatches in the flying deck and control tower. Alarm klaxons began to ring and damage control crews rushed all around.
The shockwave caught Al completely by surprise, and stood the Duck on it's nose briefly in midair before her pilot managed to right her. As he climbed and the aircraft slowed, Al tapped irritably at the airspeed dial, which was stuck at it's maximum dispayable reading. "Uh, Jace, I need our new mechanical whiz kid to take a look at Blue Duck's airspeed dial and pitot linkage when we get back, if he feels up to it, I think I knocked something loose on that last dive..."