THE FLYING ADVENTURE CONTINUES!
From the Author of Impossible Target comes a “what-if” novella from the world of “Impossible Target”
December 1943. New York City is on fire, reeling from a massive surprise attack by German bombers. German forces have captured the Allied air base on the Azores and Japanese aircraft have been sighted over the Panama Canal Zone.
The Imperial Japanese War Machine Threatens the West Coast
Military units of the Empire of Japan have sensed new American weakness and seized the opportunity. American forces have quickly shifted a large portion of available war resources to the embattled East Coast. With unprecedented cooperation and coordination with Hitler’s military machine, Imperial Japanese forces have mobilized and are speeding towards targets on the West Coast
The Panama Canal Lies Wide Open to Attack
Defenses in the Panama Canal Zone have been stripped to bolster the East Coast from further expected German attacks. A handful of air, ground, and naval units are the only defense available to defend the vital Allied waterway.
Once again, you’ll experience breathtaking action and historical drama as the American West Coast is attacked for the first time in World War II by a foreign power. Japanese warplanes have been reported over Seattle and the Panama Canal Zone. American military units are scrambling to protect the vulnerable East Coast from further German attacks.
Can the Americans stop the Japanese bombers before they release their weapons on the vulnerable Panama Canal, or will the Imperial Japanese forces strike another American “Impossible Target”?
Available in Multiple Formats
Audible 
Print 
Enjoy this Excerpt from Clear Sky Storm: A Story From The World Of Impossible Target
50 NM West of the Coast of Ecuador
Imperial Japanese Navy Submarine I-400
0300 Local
December 21st, 1943
The moon shone intermittently through the tropical, overcast skies over the endless expanse of the Pacific; the calm seas sparkled in the glow of the full orb. The winds were light as the ocean surface began to bubble in numerous places within a radius of several dozen kilometers. Out of the torrent of bubbles and foam, the first of six Imperial Navy I-400 Sentokus, the largest submarines of World War II and the brainchild of the Commander of the Combined Fleet of the Imperial Japanese Navy, Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, emerged from the dark depths.
Within minutes, the rest of the six had broken the surface one by one. All were special-purpose vessels with a technical feature in the hull that was unique from other submarines around the world. Imperial Japanese I-400 class submarines had a small, sealed hangar built in snug against the conning tower with room enough for three warplanes. Like the submarines that carried them, the eighteen airplanes of this small fleet were on a mission cloaked in the greatest secrecy. In less than an hour, these distinctive aircraft would be hurled from the wet decks of the six massive submarines on a critical mission for the Empire of Japan.
As seawater drained from the steel deck and off of the top portion of the anechoic-coated hull of the first submarine in the miles-long formation of surfaced Japanese vessels, sailors poured out of multiple hatches to man various deck guns, including the three multi-barrel 25-mm anti-aircraft weapons stations. Below and starboard of the tall conning tower was a long cylindrical structure with two large steel clamshell doors. Within seconds, they opened to reveal the three-bladed propeller and nose of a streamlined warplane. More men poured out of the clamshell doors past the folded wings of the second of three warplanes. In moments, four specially-trained sailors had moved the first warplane forward on a purpose-built trolley out of the tubular hangar and onto the submarine’s steel catapult track. Inside the open doors, a few meters back two more identical warplanes waited. Ten additional aircraft-preparation sailors assembled and properly attached the two landing floats to the lead warplane in less than three minutes. Simultaneously, the original four sailors moved the folded wings of the first plane, aided by luminous-painted attachment points, to their designated extended and locked position.
Two Imperial Japanese Navy aircrew, outfitted in standard IJN flight gear with parachute harness, boots, fur-lined headgear, and goggles jogged across the damp metal deck and expertly boarded the aircraft on the catapult launch track. As the four sailors finished preparing the warplane’s flight surfaces, two other sailors climbed up to each cockpit, assisting the aircrew in strapping in to expedite the launch.
At the top of the conning tower at the rear of the submarine’s catapult track, the commanding officer of the Japanese warship and other officers of the vessel kept watch over the warplane’s launch preparation progress. Each officer cast wary glances with binoculars at the dark horizon and black skies around the sub. Though the night provided the cover of darkness as protection, time for this launch to be carried out successfully and safely was quickly running out. The captain of the submarine stole a quick look at his watch. The vessel had now been on the surface for three dangerous minutes and was probably already appearing on the radar screen of lurking American warships. The experienced Imperial Japanese Navy Captain expected nothing less from the Americans as Japan’s six largest submarines had surfaced right in the backyard of the Yankee’s critical underbelly, the Panama Canal Zone.
A blinking signal light from the horizon to the west confirmed another nearly identical Japanese submarine was in the process of launching her three attack planes in support of this secret and critical mission. The Captain looked down at the rapid preparations on his steel deck. He could now clearly see the first warplane was about to start engines; all deck crew was motionless in their designated aircraft-launch positions near the submarine’s catapult. However, he felt no relief yet. His submarine had to stay on the surface for at least another 30 minutes to successfully launch all three aircraft. If an American patrol plane or warship came over the horizon, they were dead men.
