Matt Reddy and the crew of the USS Walker are positioned to push the line of battle to the breaking point on an alternate Earth, in the thrilling return to the New York Times bestselling Destroyermen series. Matt Reddy and his sailors have fought, bled, and died for their Lemurian friends and other allies from across time, but their enemies are still operational. In Africa, the Grik General Esshk has escaped defeat to build a new army and new weapons, and is desperate enough to use them to destroy the world if he can't have it. In South America, the NUS, General Shinya, and the Army of the Sisters have the evil Dominion on the ropes and are closing in on the seat of its blood-drenched power, but the twisted Don Hernan has struck a deal with the fascist League, and Victor Gravois is finally assembling the awesome fleet of modern ships he's always craved. If he's successful, the war will be lost. Undermined by treachery on a stunning scale, Matt Reddy must still steam his battered old ship halfway around the world, scraping up what forces he can along the way, and confront the mightiest armada the world has ever seen in a fiery duel to the death. "Anderson's world-spanning Destroyermen saga comes to a tense and well-crafted climax in the thoroughly satisfying 15th and final entry. . . . Anderson sends the series out with a bang."-- Publishers Weekly (starred review) Praise for Taylor Anderson and the Destroyermen series "I cannot recommend [these books] too highly."-- New York Times bestselling author David Weber "Taylor Anderson...[has] steamed to the forefront of alternative history."--National bestselling author E. E. Knight "The fact that Anderson has a gift for complex plot and dialogue and a fabulous sense of humor makes reading his work a fun and guilt-free pleasure."--North County Times (CA) "If you like a fun tale set in a well-developed world, pick up the Destroyermen series and kick back and enjoy."--SFRevu "Action sci-fi doesn't get significantly better than this."-- Booklist Taylor Anderson is the New York Times bestselling author of the Destroyermen novels. A gunmaker and forensic ballistic archaeologist, Taylor has been a technical and dialogue consultant for movies and documentaries and is an award-winning member of the National Historical Honor Society and of the United States Field Artillery Association. Chapter 1   ////// USS Walker   Indian Ocean (Eastern Sea)   May 1, 1945   Damn, Skipper, it's good to be back at sea!" Commander Brad "Spanky" McFarlane proclaimed. Standing in his trademark pose-hands on hips, chest out, chin jutting-he always seemed bigger than he actually was. Short reddish hair ruffled in the wind on his uncovered head as he stared through the newly replaced glass windows in the pilothouse of USS Walker (DD-163), past the busy sailors around the number one gun on the fo'c'sle, and out at the white-capped, purple sea. The detail on the fo'c'sle was largely composed of furry, long-tailed Lemurian "'Cats," as was nearly all the old "four-stacker" destroyer's crew, these days. Similar details still worked all over the ship to patch her many, but thankfully-this time-relatively minor wounds. The ship looked like hell, battered and rust-streaked from battle and toil, but was steaming easy and the 'Cats at the big brass wheel and engine order telegraph (EOT) seemed relaxed and satisfied with how she handled.   Overseeing repairs to the forward 4-50 gun, tracing balky wiring from the director, was an amusingly contrasting trio. The giant Chief Gunner's Mate Dennis Silva, the veritable Hercules of the Grand Alliance, seemed to be aping Spanky's pose as he loomed over the diminutive, furry fireplug that was Chief Bosun's Mate Jeek. And for no other reason than he apparently never left Silva's side, the Grik-like Sa'aaran named Lawrence was there, standing slightly back out of the way. Unlike the sailors in T-shirts and dungarees (or blue kilts on the 'Cats) Lawrence wore only a new tie-dyed combat smock, sunlight flashing on the dark plumage of his tail, crest, and orange and near black tiger-striped pelt on his arms and legs. Occasional humorous snippets of Silva's profane and bombastic declarations regarding how the work should proceed, and Jeek's adamant denunciations could be heard. All this was punctuated by the cawing shrieks of a small, fuzzy, tree-gliding reptile draped around the back of Silva's big neck like a sweat rag.   Captain Matthew Reddy, Commander in Chief of All Allied Forces (CINCAF) and "High Chief" of the "American Navy and Marine Clan" leaned slightly back in the chair bolted to the starboard side forward bulkhead of the pilothouse. The chair's shape and rigidity had always made it profoundly uncomfortable and only the soft, carefully embroidered cushion some anonymous Lemurian sailor secretly left on it one night made the long hours Matt often spent there physically bearable. And the responsibility the chair represented, not only to