by Andrew Watts
Like the message that was now resting on his leather desk pad.
FROM: USPACCOM
TO: FORDCSG
SUBJ: OPERATION DILIGENT PROTECTOR
US-CHINA CEASE-FIRE IN EFFECT. ALL US MILITARY AND CIVILIAN DEPENDENTS STATIONED IN JAPAN AND KOREA UNDER MANDATORY EVACUATION, ESTIMATED TIME OF COMPLETION TWO WEEKS. FORD CSG WILL PROVIDE SECURITY AND ESCORT AS NEEDED FOR ALL US-BOUND WARSHIPS AND SEA TRANSPORTS, AS WELL AS ALL MILITARY AND COMMERCIAL AIR TRAFFIC IN PACIFIC THEATER.
“They’re ready for you, sir.”
Admiral Manning looked up at Lieutenant Kevin Suggs, the tall African-American Navy fighter pilot standing across from him. Suggs was the admiral’s personal aide, or Loop.
“Okay, thanks. Any news from the SAG?” Surface action group—the group of Navy ships that had been sent along the southern half of the Pacific.
The admiral’s Loop said, “Minimal damage, sir. USS Farragut’s crew is all present and accounted for.”
Admiral Manning nodded, trying not to show the wave of relief that flooded over him. The admiral’s daughter, Victoria Manning, was on board the USS Farragut, serving as the officer in charge of the ship’s helicopter detachment.
The Farragut had entered combat near Guam several days earlier, when the war had begun. Admiral Manning had been thinking about each of his children, but especially his only daughter, Victoria. Technically, the admiral had TACON, or tactical control of her ship. This was an extremely rare situation, and one that in peacetime would likely have been avoided administratively. While he felt an enormous responsibility to each of those he served, the question of Victoria’s well-being had been weighing on him.
“Thank you, Mr. Suggs.” The admiral made brief eye contact. Suggs was sharp. He knew what the admiral was really asking for, and why he was embarrassed to ask. He nodded towards the door on the side of his office.
Suggs opened it and held the door, standing at attention and calling, “Attention on deck!”
The Ford Strike Group conference room, known as the War Room, was once again filled with the senior officers and planners in the strike group. Representatives from all of the clans stood silently at attention as the admiral made his way in: the CAG, leader of the air wing; the commodore, in charge of DESRON; the information warfare commander; and the commanding officer of the aircraft carrier. Each of these men was an O-6, a Navy captain. Several O-5s had been deemed important enough that they also had seats at the center table. The long conference table was then surrounded by two dozen other seats. In front of each of those surrounding chairs stood the midlevel officers: the lieutenants and lieutenant commanders who ran the strike group’s day-to-day operations. These men and women had a variety of different functions. They provided intelligence, planned ship and aircraft movements, wrote the flight schedule, launched and recovered aircraft, and flew the aircraft. They knew everything that was going on in the strike group and communicated with all of the other assets that supported them, like drones, submarines, and special forces units.
“Seats, please.”
The group sat, and the chief of staff, sitting to the admiral’s right, spoke. “Admiral, good afternoon. First up, we have the geopolitical update. Events have been unfolding fast, so we felt it would be good to re-base everyone here on the latest.” The COS nodded towards a Navy intel officer in the front of the room, who went through a few slides with summarized information on the state of the United States and the world three days after the war began.
There were a million names for this brief. Here on the USS Ford, it began every day at zero eight hundred sharp. Military units around the world held the same periodic ritual. Many referred to it as the “ops-intel” brief. Operations and intelligence. This was the meeting where all of the folks running the show heard what was coming and allowed the bosses to hash out any decisions that needed to be made.
Like any military meeting, it was supposed to be quick, efficient, and emotionless. Those qualities were becoming harder to achieve.
“…We are now approximately one hundred and fifty miles south of Midway Island. Our current tasking has us escorting commercial aircraft and ships that are evacuating American families from Japan and Korea.”
Admiral Manning turned to the carrier CO and his CAG. “How many lines today?” The flight schedule operated on a set structure in order to maximize efficiency. Launches and recoveries were conducted in groups, or lines.
“Sir, we have eight planned. A section of fighters on each launch. Alert swing load aircraft on deck if needed.”
“ASW support?”
“We’ll have a P-8 and a P-3 overhead at all times, and three lines of helo coverage.”
Since this brief was classified only at the secret level, the admiral didn’t ask about where the submarines were located, but he knew that there were several fast-attack subs in the water space beneath them.
“VPU has a special projects plane tasked to monitor the US convoys headed out of Japan.”
“All ships and aircraft understand our maneuvering restrictions?” Under the terms of the US-China cease-fire agreement, US military assets were not permitted to travel west of the 144th east longitude line.
“Yes, sir. It’s been put out and is being closely monitored by all warfare commanders and watch teams.”
Admiral Manning nodded and looked at the intel officer standing by the projector screen. “Continue.”
The young officer summarized the situation. The Ford Strike Group, now over twenty ships strong, was moving its warships west to better provide security for the troop transports and cruise liners filled with American civilians fleeing Asia. China was allowing this tactical retreat to go unchallenged by their military, after the new US president had agreed to China’s temporary cease-fire.
The Chinese president, Cheng Jinshan, had proposed the temporary truce. US intelligence believed that Jinshan saw the cease-fire as a way to gain political favor globally. It also gave his forces the ability to maneuver into strategically advantageous positions while the Americans ceded valuable territory: Japan and Korea.
The negotiated cease-fire gave the Americans two weeks to move their forces east of the 144th east longitude line.
“What is the progress of the evacuation in Japan?”
“They expect to meet the timeline, sir. Civilians should be completely transferred by next week. Most of our critical military assets have been either moved or destroyed.”
“Destroyed?”
“Yes, sir. Several of the aircraft were damaged badly enough that they didn’t expect to be able to fly them out. Demo teams destroyed them so the Chinese couldn’t get any use out of it. At Kadina, the runways were demolished. PACCOM decided to cut our losses and destroy what was left on the ground there.”
“I see.”
The chief of staff said, “What about Korea?”
One of the officers sitting at the central table, the information war commander, spoke up. “Our intelligence reports show that the Korean peninsula has sustained heavy damage from shelling, rocket, and chemical attacks.”
Someone from the outer seats mumbled something. The only word the admiral heard was “…wasteland.”
“The number of US casualties—civilian included—is estimated to be in the tens of thousands. When the Koreans are factored in, some estimates put the death toll into the seven-figure range. It’s bad, sir. There are bodies lining the streets in many places. The North Koreans aren’t adhering to the cease-fire as of yet. They’ve moved their troops into Seoul, and there’s heavy fighting still going on.”
Silence filled the room. Admiral Manning knew from his top-secret-level briefs that the reason the North Koreans had been so effective in their initial attack was because they’d had Chinese military assistance. He also knew that Chinese diplomats and children of Chinese VIPs were being flown out of the US as part of the cease-fire deal. This was done without public knowledge, which wasn’t hard, since most electronics were down. But the fact that this informatio
n was being kept from the public was interesting.
“What about INCONUS?”
Most in the room held their breath as they watched the young intel officer bring up new slides. Everyone was worried about what was going on back home. The hardest part of this war wasn’t the fear of what might happen to you; it was knowing there wasn’t a damn thing you could do to protect your family back home as the US faced a postapocalyptic nightmare.
“Sir, the US is on day four since the EMP and infrastructure attacks. In some places, especially population centers, there are reports of riots and social unrest. Martial law had been declared, and the information I have suggests that the overall situation is gradually stabilizing.”
Admiral Manning knew that the cities were the worst hit. The population centers were reliant on a constant high volume of food and supplies. When the transportation of goods ground to a halt, the cities would begin to starve. And burn, in many cases, as rioters and looters took to the streets.
The brief ended, and once again the room stood at attention. Normally the admiral gave a little pep talk. Today he only said, “Thank you, all.” Then Admiral Manning walked out with his chief of staff and warfare commanders in tow.
The CAG, the commodore, and several other senior leaders were soon seated in his office. The admiral stood behind his desk, arms folded across his chest.
“The US plan is to hold Guam and Hawaii at all costs. With those, they can maintain control of the Pacific.”
“I’ve heard that there’s a Chinese special forces unit inside the US. There are even rumors of a brigade-size force that flew in from Canada. Is that true?”
“Scuttlebutt.”
Admiral Manning interrupted the gossip of his senior commanders. “Gentlemen, I suggest that we worry about the things that we can control.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Our concern is the mission of this strike group. Right now, that is for us to ensure as many Americans as possible get from Asia to US soil.”
The CAG said, “Sir, the Chinese are using this as part of the strategy. They’ve gotten us to give up our positions…”
Admiral Manning met his eye. “And we will do the same.”
The CAG raised his eyebrow.
Admiral Manning nodded to his chief of staff, who said in a low tone, “The US is also using the cease-fire to reinforce its strongholds. As we speak, the Air Force is readying for a massive deployment to Guam.”
Admiral Manning said, “The Chinese didn’t attack us to make peace. We’ll be ready if and when the fighting resumes.”
The chief of staff continued. “East Coast naval assets are en route to the Pacific through the Panama Canal. As many of you know, CENTCOM has opened up as a hot spot in the Arabian Gulf. Russia is deploying more of its troops to Syria, and the moment our carrier in the gulf headed east towards the Pacific, Iran launched missiles on Saudi Arabia. We believe Iran is being prodded along by China. China wants us to play zone defense. We’re being stretched thin around the globe. Our CENTCOM assets will be taken out of the war if we choose to keep them in the region. But if we don’t, we risk cutting off our long-term fuel supply.”
“That fuel will be crucial down the road.”
“We’re already seeing signs of supply issues…”
“Where is the carrier headed? The one that was in the gulf.”
“Truman. The destination is a question for Big Navy. Diego Garcia has been demolished. Nothing can land there for now. Our Australian allies and US military assets in the country were attacked as well. The Pentagon is looking at options that would send the majority of our CENTCOM forces to Australia, but they’re examining the details of the peace treaty to find out if that would be in violation. China’s invasion of Taiwan is all but complete, and the Philippines will be a hot zone once the fighting begins. Australia was hit by the Chinese, but not hard. And assuming we can put our forces there, it’ll be far enough away to provide a defensive buffer, but close enough that we can access the region quickly.”
The CAG said, “So if and when hostilities resume at the end of the cease-fire, where will Ford be located?”
“That’s what I want to discuss with you,” Admiral Manning said. “PACFLEET has asked us to evaluate land-based landing sites. They want our take on whether we could use World War Two–era island airstrips as bases, if need be.”
Someone laughed.
“You’re kidding?”
Admiral Manning shook his head. “I’m not. They’re calling them unsinkable carriers.”
“Unsinkable doesn’t mean indestructible.”
Admiral Manning said, “There are only a handful of islands that fit our criteria. Ones that are big enough to fit a runway and face into the prevailing winds. We can use helicopters or tiltrotor, but PACFLEET prefers not to station anything at an island we can’t get larger air transport into, for efficiency. The Air Force likes the idea too. They want to send two to four fighters and a C-17 filled with gas and maintenance equipment to each island.”
“So we’re going to be deploying to…where, exactly? Midway?”
The chief of staff nodded. “We have the contracts all drawn up. The Navy Seabees are being flown out in waves. Contractors will arrive via boat to most locations within a few weeks. These new US bases will be our virtual pillboxes in the Pacific. With the reduction of our aerial refueling capability, our strike range has been diminished. This plan helps restore our reach. If the Chinese attempt to bring over a large force, we’ll have multiple Pacific bases from which to strike.”
“How many are we talking about?”
“The exact number is still being discussed. But they’ve brought up Midway, Wake Island, the Johnston Atoll, Palmyra Atoll, and Samoa.”
A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. The information warfare commander poked his head in.
“Please, come in.”
The carrier’s navigator followed him in. A commander and an aviator, the navigator didn’t normally have much interaction with the strike group’s IWC. Admiral Manning’s mind raced ahead, looking for the problem that would connect the two men.
The IWC said, “Sir, I’m afraid we have some bad news.”
The navigator looked sheepishly at the aircraft carrier captain, who was sitting on the admiral’s couch. The aircraft carrier captain was the navigator’s boss.
The IWC said, “About an hour ago, just before the morning brief, the navigator came to see me about a few anomalies he had discovered…”
The navigator continued. “Sir, we’ve been plotting out our course using the ship’s navigational software. We have a RAS tomorrow, and I wanted to double-check something…” The RAS stood for replenishment at sea, the periodic evolution where warships would go alongside the supply ships to replenish fuel, food, stores, and ordnance.
Admiral Manning said, “Spit it out, Commander.”
“We’re in deep water here and will be for the RAS. But that’s not what the computer’s navigational software was telling me.”
The CAG shifted in his seat. “I don’t understand. So go by the charts. Why is this—”
The navigator said, “CAG, I did that. That’s not my concern. The problem is that I think these false shallow water zones were maliciously inserted into our software.”
The room went quiet.
Admiral Manning looked at the IWC. “What have you found?”
The IWC said, “I have our experts looking at it now. But the preliminary results aren’t good. Our cyber experts found a back door in our network that had recently been exploited. They’ve identified a logic bomb that had been implanted in our servers and managed to quarantine it, as well as the worm that had been manipulating the carrier’s onboard navigational software.”
The navigator said, “We’re adjusting our procedures to make sure we cross-reference all of our software data with paper.”
“Weren’t we already doing that?”
“Yes, sir, but previously if the nav computer told
us there was shallow water, we would have turned the ship’s course.”
Admiral Manning looked to the ceiling, reaching the conclusion first. “But if the software has been intentionally corrupted by Chinese hackers, then these false insertions of shallow water may be directing us to places they want us to be. Correct?”
“Herding us like sheep. That is a possibility, sir. If they can direct the strike group along a certain path, they could lead us into a trap. A minefield. A group of attack submarines. Anything.”
The chief of staff muttered, “Christ. Their submarines wouldn’t have to do anything. Just sit there quietly waiting while the targets came to him.”
Admiral Manning nodded towards the navigator. “Good job finding this.” He turned to the IWC. “We need your cyber teams to audit every server, computer, program on the ship. And be sure to pass this up the chain. The intelligence folks will want to know about this, for sure.”
The phone rang on the admiral’s desk. He picked it up and muffled the receiver with his hand. “We need to be sure that our decision-making process isn’t being manipulated. All warfare commanders need to review their procedures and evaluate whether we need to cut off from networks that might be insecure.” He held the phone to his ear. “Admiral Manning, go ahead.” The admiral’s face grew grim. “Understood.” He hung up the phone.
“They just found a spy on one of our escort ships. Some E-5 is being flown over to be placed in the brig. They caught him trying to insert a thumb drive into a secret computer.”
The carrier CO rose from his seat. “Sir, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go discuss this with my XO. With five thousand people aboard, we need to be prepared in case the same thing happens here.”
The chief of staff indicated the navigator. “Captain, I believe it already has.”
The Ford CO nodded, frowning, and left the room. The navigator and IWC followed him out, and the hatch was shut behind them.
The intelligence officer began updating them on the top-secret-level plans for the US Navy’s submarine fleet.
