USS Stonewall Jackson BoxSet

by Stephen Makk

  “We have to take them out. I know they’ll make more, but we have to set down a marker,” said Admiral Kamov.

  “Hard to do,” said General Cooper, “they deploy HQ-9. With its G band HT-233 radar it can intercept targets out to 125 five miles. Maybe a B2 Spirit, but even that....”

  “We have an asset in the area that can do it,” said Kamov, “by its low flying cruise missiles. We have an ace. We have the USS Stonewall Jackson, she’s approaching the Paracels now.”

  “We don’t have any Tomahawks left on board her,” said General Sally Weingarten.

  “I think I know a way to get her replenished,” said Kamov.

  “Do we do it?” asked Cotton. “We take a risk. Not only to our submarine but there’s the nuke threat to Guam and Pearl.”

  The Commandant of the Marine Corps Bruce Nanut, cleared his throat. “Let’s teach them not to fuck with the big boys.”

  OFF THE PARCEL ISLANDS.

  LIEUTENANT COMMANDER Lemineux, the boat’s Communications Officer, handed Commander Nathan Blake a communications slip.

  “This just came in from COMSUBPAC Sir.”

  PRIORITY RED

  R 231347Z OCT 88 ZY09

  COMSUBPAC PEARL HARBOR HAWAII//N1//

  TO STONEWALL JACKSON

  PACFLT// ID S072RQ81//

  NAVAL OPS/02

  MSGID/PACOPS 6722/COMSUBPAC ACTUAL//

  MSG BEGINS://

  IMMEDIATE TLAM STRIKE. TARGETS ARE:-

  N7644.987 W237.4418

  N7644.983 W237.4423

  N7644.982 W237.4495

  N7644.974 W237.4461

  N7644.972 W237.4445

  N7644.979 W237.4439

  PRIORITY RED ALPHA D. CAPTAINS EYES ONLY.

  BACK UP NUCLEAR RELEASE AUTHORISED IF NECESSARY.

  YOUR RELEASE CODE IS NG4-92274066-PEQ83 REQUEST KEY BLAKE@U6I5T.

  AUTHORITY – POTUS - CHAIRMAN JOINT CHIEFS – COMMANDER BLAKE.

  REPLENISHMENT OF TLAM STORE. MSG TO FOLLOW. PROCEED WEST.

  MSG END//

  Nathan handed to message to the XO.

  “So much for a laying a trap.”

  “Yeah, but we have an order. Set course bearing two seven zero.” Nathan sat back in his seat. What the hell was going on? Where are we going to get more Tomahawks? This is just about the funkiest patrol I’ve ever been on.

  CPO JOHANSSON STOOD on deck with Lieutenant Commander Lemineux and a rating. It was warm with a balmy breeze, but it was black out there. The sail was just visible by a very faint cloud covered moon to their right. The distant lights of Da Nang on the Vietnam coast were faint but visible. He knew they were lucky. Good job it was a calm sea, he wouldn’t like to do this in a swell. They’d been there since 22.00. The boat was making use of her time up top by running her two Kawasaki V12 diesel engines to charge her banks of Lithium ion batteries.

  Johansson spotted a flashing light. “There sir,” he pointed.

  Lemineux flashed out a code. Soon the Vietnam Navy Auxiliary ship Trunong Sa-01 came alongside. The stern pole flew the Vietnam People’s naval ensign; a red flag with a yellow star in the middle. As the ship lined up alongside, Johansson turned to Lemineux. “Odd isn’t it sir?”

  “What’s odd?”

  “Working with these guys. My Pa was in Nam during the Tet sir. He said it was a bitch.”

  “Yeah, well, time moves on I guess.”

  “Hey bud, you ready?” came the shout. It was an American.

  “Yeah, lift em over.” Johansson spoke into his Walky Talky.

  “Open forward VPM door.” A large circular hatch swung open and a tube like object swung over the submarine’s deck from a crane on the Auxiliary.

  “Forward. Aft a bit,” said Johansson, “back. Forward, that’s it, down a bit, a bit more.” The rating and Johansson helped with the lineup. “Down slow. That’s it. Ok, that’s it. Next.” After a hard fifteen minutes, all six Tomahawks were stowed in their launch tubes.

  “All six done and stowed thanks. How do you like it on board that thing?”

  “It’s ok, the food’s good, the slopes are ok. I’ve seen more Bombay runners than I ever have before.” Johansson laughed.

  “Don’t laugh bud. I’m off for a beer, see ya.”

  “It’s a hard life you lucky bastard.” The ship slowly pulled away. A Bombay runner was a ship’s cockroach.

  Johansson spoke into the Walky Talky.

  “Close VPM door.” The hatch closed and the two men climbed the sail. Soon USS Stonewall Jackson was back below the waves and heading east away from the coast.

  THE BOAT APPROACHED the Paracels, she’d circle up from the south as her targets were in the central and northern part of the islands.

  “Benson, sitrep on the Chinese squadron?”

  “They’re to the north west, five miles sir. No signs that they’ve detected us. We’re opening up the distance slowly.”

  “I don’t want to be detected. I’d rather be late than tangle with that lot.” The boat sailed slowly east at 130 feet depth.

  Weaps returned to his console.

  “I’ve been into the Redwoods room with Johansson. All the birds are checked out and connected sir. I’m going to set up the targeting allocations and attack vectors now.”

  “Ok.” Nathan decided to make an entry in the log. A metallic screeching came from back aft. “What the...”

  He ran aft to see what was going on and he found the Chief Engineer writhing away with a spanner.

  “It’s the buoyancy bleed pump, aft port. It’s been running a bit warm but has been within limits. We have a spare, sir.”

  “How lon...”

  “I canna defy the laws of physics sir. I’ll get her back to ye when I can.” Nathan tried not to smile at the Scotty parody.

  “Ok, Scotty, do what you can.”

  “Fifteen minutes, sir. The noise will be off soon.” As if on cue, the sound ended.

  What a bastard, that was a hell of a screeching. He made his way back to the control room.

  “Buoyancy bleed pump, Larry. We’ll be down fifteen minutes. But we can still sail. As long as we don’t try quick up or down manoeuvres.”

  Keep going; keep quiet. They had to get well into the islands to reach the optimum release point.

  “Sonar. Aspect change on the two PLAN boats. They’re coming east.”

  Shit, Nathan knew it had to happen; they’d picked up the noise the pump had made. They didn’t know what they were doing there or where they were going.

  “XO. They’re in the dark about us. They’ll assume we’re a USN boat who knows she’s been detected. What would we do?”

  “Run for it.”

  “Yeah, but we could try to lose ourselves in the Archipelago, run in and try to shake them off. It’s not a bad move.” It was one against three, he knew he had to out think them.

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Assuming they think we’ve gone into the Archipelago, we sit and wait for the Destroyer. Then we under hull her and let her carry us in there. The two Yuan class boats are leading. We get a free ride in there and then we get rough on them.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Assuming they hold formation, sir. They could let the Destroyer leapfrog them and play the stalking horse.”

  “They could. It’s likely that the squadron Commander will have his flag on the Luyang class Destroyer. They’re similar to our navy, submariners are looked down on to an extent. If so, I can’t see him acting as a stalking horse for two underlings. We’ll just have to see how it goes.”

  Now it was time to get in position for an under hulling.

  “All stop. Flood one. Make your depth 1,300 feet. Open and trim vents fore and aft. Make for depth.” The boat started to sink into the black void.

  Nikki walked over to him. “Sir.” She stood close, too close. Nathan could smell her hair. He looked into those blue pools that he wanted to swim in. “Remember, he’ll think he’s the Queen Bee. What does the Queen Bee make sure of?”

  She
slinked back to her console. Even in here, she was a temptress. He shook himself.

  “Let me know when the Destroyer’s getting to directly north of us, Benson.”

  The minutes went by. “He’s getting in position sir, bearing three four five, range four point three miles.”

  “Come to 30 degrees, speed 15 knots.”

  “Sonar. Target now due 25 degrees. Speed 12 knots.”

  Time to close in.

  “Make your depth 70. Match his speed.”

  “Aye sir, twelve at seven zero,” called the Planesman.

  “Sonar. Range to target, one point one miles.”

  “Speed 12 knots.”

  “Speed 16 knots,” called Nathan. Stonewall Jackson moved slowly closer to her quarry.

  “Sonar. One of the Yuan class is slowing, it’s coming to idle speed.”

  What the hell? Then Nathan knew what was afoot. The Yuan class boat was falling back behind the Destroyer. It was going to cover its six. It was covering its leader up top.

  Bastard. Under hulling wasn’t going to be possible now. Now what?

  “XO, I’m not playing with these guys now. Weaps, designate our contacts, no firing solutions as yet.”

  “Sir. Surface contact designated Tango one. Forward Yuan is Tango two. Slowing Yuan is Tango three.”

  “Come to four knots.” Nathan waited until the rear Yuan trailed behind the Destroyer.

  “Flood one, down bubble ten. Open and trim vents fore and aft. Make your depth 120.” The Chinese boat took up its position astern the Destroyer.

  “Speed 15 knots.” Nathan would edge closer to the trailing Yuan and get in his baffles.

  “Sonar. Sitrep Tango three.”

  “Range two point two miles, depth 80. We have three knots on him.”

  “Rig trim to ascend fore and aft one two thirds, get in his baffles.”

  The boat levelled out behind the foe and edged closer.

  “Tango three. Range, one point three miles.”

  “Get a firing solution on him Weaps.”

  The weapons officer’s hands set switches and dials over the console. The touchscreen firing computer turned red.

  “Mk 48 CBASS ready in tube two. Firing solution laid in; designated target Tango three, Sir.”

  “Flood tube two.”

  “Aye sir. Tube two flooded. Fish is ready in all respects.”

  “Where are we, Kaminski?”

  “South of Discovery Reef, coming up to the south is Passu Keah Reef.”

  “Open outer doors.”

  “Doors open sir.”

  “On my mark. Launch tube two.”

  This was it; Nathan knew there was no going back now.

  It was three against one.

  Tango three had to be taken out.

  The three he faced were some of the best vessels in the People’s Liberation Army Navy. Some of the best assets in one of the world’s top navies.

  They needed to be at the top of their game. If they weren’t, then a crushing death awaited them.

  Chapter 12

  “LAUNCH, TUBE TWO, LAUNCH.”

  “Launch tube two. Fish away and hungry.” The Mk 48 sped off east for its quarry.

  “Good launch. Running in. Enemy turning to starboard.”

  “Fish, range point seven miles. Enemy has flooded a tube. Fish range point three miles, closing. Enemy has opened outer doors. Fish range point one five miles pinging, pinging, cutting wire. Closing, fish terminal.”

  “Sonar. Hot datum on Tango three. No fish in the water, he didn’t make it. Hull break up sounds, massive gas escape. The hull is tearing. Detonation. Secondary detonation. One of his own fish just blew. Hull break up. Tango three is terminal.”

  “Weaps. Sir, I’m wiping her from the threat board.”

  “Planesman come to one four five, speed 18 knots.”

  “One four five at 18, aye sir.” Nathan put his hand over his forehead. They maybe an enemy but they were fellow submariners; it always got him. It was a sorrow to have to do it, but needs must.

  “XO, we’re going around the outside of the Archipelago in a big right hand hook. Let them think we’re in there and after them. They’ll be chasing shadows. Every time they hear a whale humping it’ll be us.”

  “What’s the next rock up, Kaminski?”

  “Sir, when we clear south of Passu Keah, head four five degrees to come south of Bombay Reef; it’s 50 miles away.”

  Hours later, they rounded Bombay Reef.

  “Come to four zero, let’s get in there with ‘em.” USS Stonewall Jackson headed for its launching point north of Vuladdore Reef.

  “Keep a big ear out Benson, we have two Tangos in here.”

  It had to be discussed and decisions taken. It was the 500 pound Gorilla in the room. Nathan had waited for too long now.

  “XO, Kaminski. Wardroom.”

  THE THREE OF THEM SAT with their coffees.

  “Our orders authorise nuclear release if necessary. When is that necessary?”

  “Nukes?” said Nikki. She squirmed and shook her head. “Fuck.”

  “I guess when we think we’re going to be destroyed. Then, it’s now or never,” said Larry.

  “That would count, Larry. Anything short of that? Any other reason we release W80-1 warheads? Weapons six times more powerful than the Nagasaki bomb?”

  Nikki stood and paced the room. Larry just shook his head.

  “Failure,” she said, finally.

  “Failure?” Larry repeated, frowning.

  “Yes, we were told to take out these sea skimming drones. If we can’t do that with conventional weapons, either because of imminent threat to us, or a lack of capability on our part, that’s failure.” She looked at her two colleagues with a fixed stare. “We launch on failure.”

  Nathan nodded. “I agree. Larry?”

  “I agree. Reluctantly, but I agree.”

  The three sat back and drank their coffee. Nathan felt better about the discussion he hoped he’d never have to make.

  The intercom sparked into life.

  “Battle stations, battle stations. Commander to the control room.”

  Nathan rushed to his Conn.

  “Sir, it’s Tango one, we are under attack by anti-submarine mortars.”

  “Emergency deep, emergency deep. Direction of mortars?”

  “To our port and starboard sir, that goddamn Destroyer was hiding north of Bombay reef.” Nathan knew it must have been a guess on the Destroyer’s part. A good guess, unfortunately. “All ahead full.”

  As Stonewall Jackson sank into the black depths, to the left of the hull was a blast. The hull metal groaned and the boat was pushed to the right.

  “Full speed down, depth 1,650, sir.” Another blast to the right. Nathan felt his eardrums flex as the boat pushed to the left.

  Stonewall Jackson found herself caught in the devil's drum set, and the bastard was pounding away.

  WEST VIRGINIA

  IT WAS HIS TURN TO do a sweep across the south side. The cabin was 150 yards back. He walked to an outcrop; the woods were quite thick but with a number of clearings, there were plenty of spruce in the forest. As an assignment he’d had worse with the CIA, it beat watching some half assed politician in Afghanistan or Pakistan. Babysitting a Chinese broad in West Virginia was a top posting. He took out his binoculars and swept the arc of control. He brought up the thermal sight and swept again. He took out the walky-talky.

  “Cal from Walt. All clear south sweep, over.”

  “Cal. All clear north sweep. Any sign Tigress is going out again?”

  “Not so far, she was sat eating breakfast twenty minutes ago.”

  He advanced down to the creek and swept along the far bank. He heard a noise, it sounded like a bear, not impossible but unlikely. Cal unshouldered his Remington ACR just in case. Presently the waterside bushes parted. A figure in green parka and trousers not unlike his own pushed forward. He wore a brown woolly hat, his face was covered in CAM cream, and he had
a Colt M4 assault rifle over his shoulder. He held up binoculars and started a sweep. Cal pulled back. Who the hell was this?

  He took out the walky-talky. “Walt, we have an intruder wearing the kit, far side of the creek. Colt M4 assault rifle. The way he’s moving, he looks like he’s been in the game.”

  Cal watched him for a few minutes, steadily slowly moving forward, and he looked like he’d been a player.

  “Walt from Cal. I have one here, too. Mother’s sweeping, advancing. Like you say, ex green. This one looks like a Ranger, I can tell by that shit way they come on to you.”

  “Cal. Yeah, well they’re taking on the Corps now. Must be in the pay of some bad guys. I’ll call Guard and let him know. Let ‘em get to line three then pull back a line. Over.”

  Cal picked up his secure backpack mobile secure encrypted line.

  “Guard this is Backstop over; come in Guard. Guard this is Backstop over; come in Guard.” Cal waited two minutes.

  Paul Wicks saw the light flashing on his comms pack in the office at Langley.

  The two men he’d put out into the field to cover Zhi were regular CIA operatives. Both were Ex USMC and knew their way around field ops. They’d picked up the close person protection issues through experience.

  “Backstop this is Guard. Over.”

  “We have two players advancing on our position. Armed and wearing CAM, look like possible Rangers.”

  Fuck, fuck, thought Paul. It must be an FBI Op. What the hell?

  “Do not allow yourselves to get into contact. If you need to, evacuate Tigeress. Over.”

  “Copy Guard. Evacuate Tigeress if contact likely. State your orders if contact underway or inevitable.”

  It can’t come to that thought Paul, just as he realised it might. Shit, the FBI and the CIA battling it out in Virginia, what a clusterfuck that would be. Some oversight committee would have his ass in a sling. He could hear some anal-retentive congressional representative now.

  “So let me get this right. You deployed CIA personnel to protect an agent of the Chinese Ministry of State Security?”