Counter to the Japanese, the solid, stocky Korean looked grim.
"The fools are truly going to do it, aren't they?" Jorge Apayo, the Philippine representative, said. "They are going to push this thing until they use the bomb."
"So it would appear," Chung replied. "The Analyses Section of our General Staff have completed their review of the projections provided by the United States. While they will not commit to the extent of the American RAND team, they do say that a nuclear exchange is a definite possibility." "Our Self-Defense Forces people said probably," the Japanese ambassador interjected.
Van Lynden took a seat on the edge of the bed. "I also know that your people have been doing some projections on what we can expect out here if events do go nuclear in China."
"It will be bad," Moroboshi replied. "Very bad for all of us, including the United States. The equivalent of Chernobyl a dozen times over."
The Japanese ambassador accessed his personal-computer pad. "We are projecting between thirty and forty low- to medium-yield nuclear and thermonuclear detonations within a twenty-four-hour period. We can expect extensive fallout and elevated radiation levels throughout the Pacific Rim. Extensive ozone-layer damage. Long-term strontium 90
contamination in water and soil. The possibility of plutonium hot-spotting that could render hundreds or thousands of square miles of land uninhabitable. Trillions will be required for decontamination and medical aid. Damage to the Pacific economic environment will be beyond significant."
"What about casualties?" Lucena Sagada asked softly.
"Within the western Pacific Rim states, we can expect hundreds of thousands of cases of low-grade radiation poisoning.
All nations within the Northern Hemisphere may expect a measurable increase in the number of cancer cases to be recorded over the next fifty years. Possibly by as much as twenty to twenty-five percent.
"These figures, of course, cover only the secondary effects on our nations," Moroboshi concluded with irony. "The situation within China itself will be ... more difficult."
That silenced the room for a moment.
"Gentlemen," Van Lynden said eventually. "I believe that we all agree that this is an unacceptable outcome. Earlier today, each of your governments received an official note from the president of the United States. It proposed that, should no other alternative be available, we consider intervention in the China crisis. At least to the point `;/54' of seeking out and eliminating the threat posed by the Red Chinese ballistic-missile submarine currently at sea.
"I put to you now that we have no alternative. Can you tell me now what answer we may expect from your governments?"
Ambassador Chung shrugged slightly. "We are the closest to the flame. We have no choice. If the United States is willing to take the lead in this matter, the Republic of Korea will lend both military and diplomatic support."
"As will the Philippines," Minister Apayo added. "We have few military units suitable for such operations, but we can provide air and sea basing and logistical support."
The focus of the room shifted to Ambassador Moroboshi and the decision of Japan. The Ambassador hesitated for a long moment before speaking.
"Japan has forsworn aggressive warfare as an aspect of national policy.
It would take a very powerful motivation for us to make an exception to this doctrine. However, the threat of nuclear devastation returning to our shores provides just such a motivation. I believe that you may expect the full assistance of my nation in this matter."
Van Lynden nodded. "Gentlemen, on behalf of the United States, I thank you. May our decision be the correct one.
And now I believe we all will need to communicate with our respective governments."
"One point further, Mr. Secretary," the Philippine representative said.
"What about the Taiwanese? We understand that their fleet is already at sea in pursuit of the Communist submarines. Would the military action we are considering be launched in coordination with theirs?"
"It would seem logical for us to work with them, Mr. Apayo."
"To the Communists, it may appear as if we are now siding openly with the Nationalists in their conflict."
"That's very true, Mr. Apayo. However, it also appears as if neutrality is no longer a valid option."
SHANGHAI, CHINA 0744 HOURS ZONE TIME; AUGUST 18, 2006
The time of secrecy was over. The squadron had been rallied out of their places of concealment and now was moored in the sun. What was left of it.
Lieutenant Zhou Shan leaned against the finger pier railing and considered his new command. The Five Sixteen, what had been the first officer's boat, was his now. Again, what was left of it. The hydrofoil's upper works had been scored and torn by a massive shrapnel burst, and a work crew from the shipyard labored to scrub the bloodstains from the weather decks.
Bosun Hoong was busy as well, simultaneously endeavoring to both coordinate the repair job and to organize the handful of green seamen who would constitute the Five Sixteen boat's new crew. Given the volume and intensity of his language, neither was proving to be an easy task.
The problems that Zhou was confronting would not be easily resolved either. Captain Li and the political officer had perished when the flag boat had been destroyed by a wild shot from the Silkworm battery. The squadron first officer and his exec were dead as well, dying at least at the hands of the enemy.
Zhou still thought of himself as a junior officer, and yet, now, he was the new squadron commander. Fleet Headquarters here in Shanghai seemed to have neither the authorization, interest, or resources to provide a replacement. Nor, with the submarine force away and clear, did they seem to have any orders for the squadron.
They were on their own, an unusual state of affairs for any PLA military unit. Zhou knew what must be done. He must rally the squadron again. He must get them through the trauma of the losses they had taken and he must prepare them
for battle again. Most of all, he must find them a worth} mission.
Unbidden, an image filled his mind. An image of the towering bladelike bow of a ghost ship looming out of the haze.
SEVENTH FLEET OPERATIONS AREA 0900 HOURS ZONE TIME; AUGUST 18, 2006
** FLASH RED FLASH RED FLASH RED FLASH RED FLASH RED **
** SECURITY AUTHENTICATOR; STINGRAY-BRAVOSIXSIX-ZERO **
ACTIVE-SECURE************CHECKVERIFY-GO**
** LIVE FIRE ALERT NOTIFICATION **
FROM. CINC-7
TO: ALL 7TH FLEET LAND/AIR/SEA ELEMENTS ON THE ORDERS OF THE NATIONAL
COMMAND AUTHORITY THE FOLLOWING MODIFICATIONS TO 7TH FLEET
OPERATIONAL
R. O.E. WILL BE PLACED IN EFFECT, AS OF 1200 HOURS ZONE TIME, AUGUST 18, 2006.
1. MAXIMUM PRIORITY WILL BE GIVEN TO THE LOCATION AND IDENTIFICATION OF
ANY AND ALL PRC HAN AND XIA CLASS NUCLEAR SUBMARINES CURRENTLY
OPERATING
IN ASIAN AND PACIFIC WATERS.
2. UPON LOCATION AND POSITIVE IDENTIFICATION, SAID PRC VESSELS ARE TO
BE
FIRED UPON AND SUNK AT ALL COSTS.
EAST CHINA SEA 55 MILES WEST OF KUME SHIMA ISLAND
1247 HOURS ZONE TIME; AUGUST 19, 2006
"Letter from your ex-wife, Doc?" Amanda inquired with a half-smile.
"Better," Golden replied with a theatrical sigh. "It's a letter from my ex-wife's lawyer. The dance may be over, but the malady lingers on."
The majority of the Cunningham's senior officers relaxed around the wardroom table as the steward served lunch. The exception was Ken Hiro.
With the ship closed up to wartime cruising mode, the Duke's exec and C.O. were going on watch down in the Combat Information Center. This meal was Amanda's chance to stand down a little from the load.
The ship's surgeon made a show of refolding the page and tucking it back into his pocket. "Captain, you should be very grateful to Marilyn."
Amanda set down her coffee cup. "How's that, Doctor?"
"Because of her, yo
u get me. If I leave the service and go up on the beach, she can get her claws into me more easily. However, if I stay out at sea, I get a little intermittent peace and quiet. There's no contest!"
A ripple of laughter ran around the table.
"Come on, Doc," Arkady needled. "It couldn't have been all that bad. You married the woman."
"Listen, flyboy," Golden replied synthesizing a Yiddish accent. ' ' my ex-wife and I first moved in together, she had to get rid of her cat.
I'm allergic. If I'd have known then what I know now, I'd have kept the cat and gotten rid of Marilyn! For the cat, I could have taken pills!"
It was a good light moment, but it couldn't last.
"Hey, Captain," Chief Thomson said. "What's the latest on the sub hunt?"
"We're still pretty much where we stood last night," Amanda replied, cutting the first bite from her hot turkey sandwich. "The mission intent is still to keep the Reds from breaking out into the open Pacific."
Amanda found herself sliding back into her briefing mode, the attention of her officers fixing on her. "Just now, all deepwater exits out of the East China Sea are being blockaded by a multinational submarine and surface task group.
The Korean Navy is covering the Straits of Korea. The Taiwanese have the Formosa Strait. The Japanese Maritime Self Defense Force has the northern end of the Ryukyu island chain, and Seventh Fleet has the southern.
' ' the perimeter secured, the containment area will be systematically saturated with ASW assets. We find the boomer, fix its location, and then we kill it. By the book."
"Does anyone have any theories about where this sucker is now?" Frank Mckelsie asked.
"Look under your chair," Christine Rendino said. "The current sitguess is that the Reds are hiding out here in the deep waters west of the Ryukyus, waiting for the chance to make a bolt for one of the channels."
"Then what are we doing hanging around out here on our own?"
"We're not quite on our own," Amanda replied. "A secondary picket line of surface units is being deployed out along the Ryukyu trench ahead of the main line of containment.
Our mission intent is to flush the Red wolfpack back into the shallower waters nearer the China coast.
"It's a mixed bag of units, JSDF and Taiwanese Navy mostly. Since we haven't had the chance to work up as part of Task Force 7.1's regular ASW team, we were the logical contribution from the U.S. force pool."
She paused for another sip of coffee. "Or at least that was how it was explained to me."
"Yeah."
The Duke's officers turned to their meal, each striving to ignore an unspoken truth that hovered over the table. The atomic submarine is the ultimate oceanic predator, the deadliest enemy of the surface warship.
Hunting for one out in the deepwater jungle is something like being a sapper probing for a hidden land mine. Sometimes "success" takes the form of a sudden terminal explosion.
They were granted time enough to eat. The mess man was just cutting the dessert on the sideboard when the overhead speaker cut in.
"Wardroom, this is the CIC."
Amanda's command headset was lying in its usual place beside her plate.
Snatching the earphones up, she settled them into place. "Wardroom, aye.
What's up, Ken?"
"Somebody's initiated an active sonar search off to the southeast. Range unknown, but over the horizon. We think it may be the next picket ship down the line."
"Any sighting report?"
' ' yet. We ... stand by ... Sighting report coming in now. Taiwanese Navy frigate Po Yang now reporting a possible SSN contact. They are pursuing the target, attempting to identify."
Everyone around the table had their eyes fixed on Amanda, awaiting her word.
"Chris," she whispered off mike. "The Po Yang, what do you have?"
"Ex-U. S. Navy Knox-class frigate. Purchased 1995. Systems updated in Taiwanese yards. ASROC ASW launcher forward, two triple sets of torpedo tubes amidships. Facilities for a single Kaman Super Sprite LAMPS helo."
A computer might have been using the Intel's voice as she rattled off the list of facts. "SQS-26 hull sonar and an SQR-18 towed array, both with augmentation packages."
Amanda's-gaze flicked across to her tactical officer. "Dix, a Knox versus a Han or a Xia. Who has the edge?"
The TACCO shrugged. "If it's one-on-one, ma'am, it'll go to whoever gets off the first shot. On the other hand, if this is one of our bogeys, he may have a couple of swim buddies out there with him."
Vince Arkady shoved his chair back. "Captain, maybe I'd better get out there and have a look."
Amanda caught him with a quick shake of her head.
"Hold it. Let's see if this firms up a little more first."
The remnants of lunch forgotten, they waited through the slow crawl of the minutes, sipping their beverages or toying with dessert as a nervous mess man began to clear the table.
The overhead speaker clicked again. "Wardroom. Sonar is reporting an underwater explosion."
"Ours or theirs?" Someone quietly voiced the question.
Ken Hiro answered a moment later.
"Captain, we are receiving a distress call from the Po Yang. They have just been torpedoed. Position, twenty-two miles south-southwest of us."
"Right! Ken, sound general quarters. Close the range with the Po Yang.
All engines ahead full!" Amanda continued to snap out her stream of orders against the backdrop of the alarm klaxons. "Communications Room, make signal to the Po Yang: ' on. We are coming to assist you with all possible speed.' Then get on line with Seventh Fleet. Repeat the sighting report and inform them of our intent. Ask if they can get us some additional support out here."
"Aye, aye, Captain."
Her officers were poised around the table, awaiting her command. "Mr.
Arkady, you're with me for a second. The rest of you, stations! Let's go!"
They scattered. The aviator was on his feet, straining at the leash, ready to move.
"Arkady, given the rate of knots we're going to be turning, our passage noise is going to take our sonar arrays off line. We'll be going in deaf. Get out there with both of the helos, assess the situation, and sterilize the area. Find me that sub!"
"Will do!" He gave her the briefest of nods, then he was gone, heading away to the hangar bay aft.
' ', this is the Communications Room. The Po Yang has just reported that she has been hit by a second torpedo.
She's gone off the air, and we're receiving life-raft transponders on that bearing."
"Acknowledged. I'm on my way down."
In the hangar bay, the helipad elevator descended with a howl of hydraulics and a flare of warning lights.
"Go! Go! Go! Put your shoulders into it!"
Aviation ratings rolled Retainer Zero One forward out of its servicing spot and onto the lift. The Sea Comanche had been undergoing mission maintenance and other AC hands sidled along the helicopter's flanks, securing access panels.
"Gus! Where are you?" Arkady bellowed as he ducked in through the entry hatch.
"Here, Lieutenant!" AC-1 Gregory "Gus" Grestovitch, Arkady's systems operator, was already at his gear locker donning his flight equipment.
"What's the pod status?"
"We've still got the package from this morning. MAD pod and a sonobuoy dispenser. Fifty-fifty mission mix: passive and active."
"Okay. Have ' upload a Mark 50 and a life raft. Expedite!"
"Aye, aye, sir!" The lanky AC snagged his helmet from the locker and dashed off to confer with the ordnance handling team. Arkady geared up himself. Moving onto the lift pad, he swung into Zero One's forward cockpit and started his preflight.
He knew full well that his handling crews were working as rapidly as possible, but the Lady was counting on him.
Impatiently, he twisted around in his seat and watched as the life-raft pod and the little Barracuda antisubmarine torpedo were trundled into position under the helo's snub wings. The ordnance hands were
still shackling them up as the elevator began its rise to deck level.
The skies were clear, their blue paled by the blazing sun of a summer noon. A single cumulus dome rose on the north horizon. Its white color matched the occasional flash of foam on the wave crests and the long plume of wake trailing behind the Cunningham.
The Duke moved out. Heat shimmer boiled the air over the exhaust stacks and the decks shuddered as the propeller revs climbed. Amanda was driving her ship hard to reach the distressed crew of the Taiwanese frigate.
She was also stretching her tactical safety envelope right to the limit as well.
Dammit! He was supposed to be out there covering her.
"Come on! Let's get this bird off the deck! Let's move!"
The rotors were being swung out and locked into position.
The ordnance hands were backing away, waving the safety pin streamers overhead to verify that the stores were cleared to drop.
Grestovitch dropped into the rear cockpit and the canopy was slammed down.
"Gus, what's Zero Two's position within her search quadrant?"
"Lieutenant Delany was way out to the northeast, sir. Air One has got her turned around and headed for the contact now."
"Ah, nuts! Stand by for engine start."
"Set. The word is we're going after a Chinese sub, sir."
"We are, pal."
"Word also is that they've already blown another can away."
"They have." Arkady flipped his throttles to the start detent and energized the starters. "Crank!"
"Captain's in the CIC!"
"Okay, Ken. I've got her."
"Captain has the con!"
Amanda dropped into the command chair and whipped it around to face forward toward the Alpha screen. "What's our status?"
"The ship is at general quarters," Hiro replied crisply from his position at her shoulder. ' ' one nine oh degrees true. All engines ahead full. Making turns for thirty seven knots."
"Tactical Officer. Ordnance status?"
Dix Beltrain looked up from the master weapons station at Amanda's right. "Port and starboard torpedo bays armed, ma'am. Vertical Launch ASROC flights are hot. The problem is, we don't have a target."
The story was written on the topaz expanse of the Aegis system's Large Screen Display. The position hack of the doomed Nationalist frigate glowed dead ahead along the Cunningham's course line. A graphics circle was looped around it, its radius being the maximum range of a Red Chinese Type 53 torpedo. Somewhere inside that line, the hunter-killer boat that had destroyed the Po Yang very possibly still lurked, silent and invisible. They would be sharing that space very soon.
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