by Andrew Watts
“Chief, I mean no disrespect. I only jest.”
The chief smiled.
Plug sipped the last drop of coffee in his mug. It was cold and bitter, like his almost-SWO soul.
Plug stared intensely at the USS Stockdale’s little blue symbol on the large digital display in the front of the room. He didn’t allow himself to blink until he saw the Arleigh Burke–class destroyer change its course and speed. A blue line extended out of the Stockdale’s ship symbol and changed direction to where he wanted it to go. Satisfied, Plug turned his attention to the monitor above him. It showed a live video feed of the aircraft carrier flight deck. Two helicopters were spinning, the aircrews changing out while they refueled.
Plug felt a hand on his shoulder. “Missing your past life? Don’t tell me you want to go back.”
He looked up to see Subs, the DESRON’s submarine officer. Subs was his roommate, friend, and most importantly, his watch replacement.
“And give up all this glamour?” Plug waved his hand around the room. Two of the four computer workstations had their screens turned off. Post-it notes read “IT repairs in progress.” The static hiss of multiple radios filled the space.
The chief and JG that Plug was in charge of during his duty stared back at him, smiles on their tired faces. Chief said, “I think this place is growing on him, sir.” Then their own watch replacements appeared at the door and they began their turnover briefs.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Subs said. He held out his fist, which Plug bumped. Then he rose from his swivel chair and stretched out. Subs had shown Plug the ropes down here, teaching him a lot in a short period of time.
“Hey, Commodore asked you to represent us at a meeting at zero nine thirty. In the War Room. Both the commodore and the deputy commodore are going on ship visits during that time.”
As if on cue, a series of bells rang on the 1MC overhead speaker. “DESRON, departing.”
The room looked up at the TV monitor in the corner as one of the helicopters lifted off the carrier’s flight deck. A distant rumble of spinning rotors could be heard, even down here.
Someone said, “Oh thank God,” joking that they were happy their boss was gone for a while.
Subs turned back to Plug. “Okay, technically they asked me to go, but I figure you’d rather attend a meeting than stand more watch. The meeting is supposed to be important, and they want somebody familiar with submarines to go.”
“And you’re sending me?”
“Familiar is a relative term.”
Plug sighed. He was on four hours of sleep for the fifth day in a row and really needed a nap. From 0930 to 1000 was his only free time today. He would give anything for thirty minutes in the rack.
Instead, he found himself saying, “I’ll be there. And thank you for this extra opportunity to serve my country. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Attaboy.” Subs looked around the room. “Damn, man, what the hell is Stockdale doing out of screen? The battlewatch captain’s gonna have my butt. Alright, I’ll clean up the mess you left me. What else do you got?”
Plug ran through the status of all ships, the relevant parts of the flight schedule, and several other hot items.
Beneath the surface of their routine conversation and light-hearted jokes was a tension that hadn’t been there two weeks earlier. Everyone was on edge, trying that much harder to be perfect at their jobs, and worrying that at any time, an attack might come on their carrier, which was one of the most valuable targets in the entire US Navy.
Plug said, “As you know, the subsurface threat remains high. We have ASW flights going around the clock now. Two maritime patrol aircraft will be on station during the day. One is a P-3, one is a P-8. Do me a favor, Subs. When those guys are up, just let them do their thing. Pass along any contact info you have, but don’t micromanage them. They know what they’re doing. Please. For my sake.”
Plug found that if left to their own devices, the tactical action officers on ships would treat the aircraft like they were part of a video game, forgetting that they had highly trained and capable aircrews that were fully autonomous. As a pilot, nothing pissed Plug off more than when he was about to prosecute a sub contact and the geniuses in charge ordered him to fly twenty miles away without reason.
Subs said, “Got it. Any more condescending advice?”
“Nope, that about covers it.”
“Good. Then go get yourself some coffee so you can have a bright smile for the zero nine thirty meeting.”
“I stand relieved.” Plug mock-saluted.
Another set of bells rang on the 1MC. This time they were followed with, “Captain, United States Navy, arriving.”
All eyes in the room went up to the flight deck camera image. A C-2 Greyhound had just landed on the carrier. The start of today’s fixed-wing flight schedule.
“Who’s that?”
Subs said, “I think it’s the PACFLEET intel officer. He’s here for the meeting too.”
Ninety minutes later, Plug entered the carrier’s War Room with his trusty mug of coffee. Suggs, the admiral’s Loop, was sitting on one of the outer chairs that surrounded the conference table. Suggs was an F-18 pilot. Like Plug, he was a lieutenant who had done multiple deployments and was on the cusp of making O-4. Plug took a seat next to his friend.
“So what’s the deal here, man?”
“Hey, Plug. Not sure. I wasn’t in with the old man just now. I’m on the flight schedule again.” Due to the shortage in pilots, strings had been pulled that allowed Suggs to get in a few flights per week, even though his job was technically a nonflying billet.
“Oh. Nice.”
The hatch that lead to the admiral’s stateroom swung open, and the Ford Strike Group’s chief of staff entered the space. The Navy captain stood to the side of the doorway, calling, “Attention on deck.”
Everyone stood at attention in silence as Admiral Manning, now a two-star, entered the space. Another Navy captain—one Plug didn’t recognize—followed him in. Admiral Manning sat at the head of the table while the Navy captain walked towards the opposite end of the long conference table, looking ready to give a presentation.
Admiral Manning said, “Ladies and gentlemen, due to the sensitive nature of what we’re about to hear, the PACFLEET thought it would be best to deliver this information in person. The Pacific Fleet intelligence officer will be giving the brief.”
The Navy captain standing next to the presentation screen began. “As you all know, we’re five days into the cease-fire agreement with China.”
The screen flipped to a map of the Western Pacific. The briefer clicked a button, and the map was filled with red and blue symbols.
“Here’s where Chinese and Allied forces were located prior to the start of combat operations.”
He clicked the button again, and most of the blue symbols either disappeared or moved to the far-right side of the map.
“And here’s where we are now. You’ll notice that we don’t have any ships in the vicinity of the South China Sea or the East China Sea. Per the agreement, the last remaining ships in the Philippine Sea should be on our side of the hundred and forty-fourth east longitude line within forty-eight hours. Evacuation of American civilians from Korea is estimated to be fifty percent complete, with the North Koreans recently agreeing to a temporary cease-fire at the behest of China. We are now over eighty percent complete with US civilian evac from Japan and Okinawa. Military movements from these zones are more complex but are generally following these trends.”
The PACFLEET intelligence officer looked up at the room. Plug could tell from his expression that something important was coming.
“Now…here you can see where two of our fast-attack submarines in the Western Pacific were recently located.”
Plug noticed that everyone in the room had the good sense not to point out that this was in violation of the cease-fire agreement.
“We obviously have other submarines in the region, but these
two are the ones relevant to our discussion.”
Plug saw all of the symbols on the map disappear except for two blue submarines. One was located approximately one hundred miles south of Hong Kong. The other was near the Luzon Strait.
“This was their location at the start of the cease-fire. Their orders were to maintain position, and to observe and report on enemy naval movements.”
The screen changed to show dozens of red symbols. “These were the last known positions of Chinese surface and subsurface tracks prior to the start of the war. As you can see, the PLA Navy is formed up into a scattering of assets located predominantly in the South China Sea and East China Sea.”
The screen changed again. This time the two American subs in the South China Sea disappeared and the red tracks were more concentrated into the two separate strike groups.
“This is as of forty-eight hours ago. You notice that the Chinese have consolidated into two strike groups. The southernmost Chinese strike group was the one that attacked Guam. The high-value unit of this group is the Chinese aircraft carrier Liaoning. After its failed attack on Guam, the Liaoning Strike Group transited west towards China and joined up with another group of ships that just recently put to sea. The northernmost Chinese strike group contains the other two Chinese aircraft carriers and dozens of warships. The northern group has moved to the south of Tokyo and seems to be monitoring the US exfiltration there.”
Plug noted that the captain didn’t use the word retreat.
“We don’t have an exact estimate on the order of battle of these carrier groups. But our sources tell us that many of these ships left port after the cease-fire began, and that number is well over fifty ships sortied in each group.”
Someone whistled.
“As for the two American subs…”
The screen changed again. Both blue submarine symbols disappeared. Two X symbols were there instead, each with the words “last known posit” next to it.
“As of yesterday, the southernmost Chinese strike group is believed to have transited the Luzon Strait. We have lost communications with both of those submarines.”
The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Brothers in arms recognizing both the loss of fellow sailors and a significant threat on the horizon.
The map changed to a presentation screen with bullet points. The briefer read from it, almost verbatim.
“Both of the US fast-attack submarines had reported coming into contact with a large group of Chinese warships. At contact minus two hours, the submarines checked in. In each instance, after that time, the fast-attack boats went dark.”
The Ford CO, the aircraft carrier’s captain, said, “Define dark.”
“No further communication whatsoever. All attempts to reach the subs in question have failed.”
The Ford CO said, “Well, is it possible that they are there and just having communications problems? Hell, we’ve got one of the most advanced communication suites on the planet and we’re having a hell of a time right now. If they’re damaged or sunk, they’re supposed to send up a beacon, right?”
The PACFLEET intelligence officer said, “Assuming that the beacon wasn’t damaged, yes. If the submarines were hit by enemy weapons, the emergency positioning locator beacon should have been released in all three cases. During normal operation, these radio signals would be picked up by our satellites. We could locate the distressed submarine immediately and begin rescue ops. However, seeing as our GPS and satellite capability has been knocked out of play, we’ve been relegated to using alternative communications networks for our submarines. The Chinese are now heavily jamming all radio transmissions in these areas. We just aren’t able to confirm what happened.”
Admiral Manning said, “But we can assume the worst.”
“Yes, sir. I’m afraid that is the logical conclusion.”
The Ford CO said, “So the Chinese are already breaking their peace treaty. Is that what you’ve come here to tell us?”
Plug listened eagerly for a response. Most of them figured that the peace treaty between the US and China was going to be temporary. The American diplomats would try to make it permanent. But if anyone really believed they would succeed, they were fools, as far as Plug was concerned. The big question was, how long would peace last? Or had the presumed sinking of these two submarines already ended it?
Admiral Manning said, “Please describe what you were telling me before the brief, Captain.”
The PACFLEET intelligence officer nodded. “Both of these submarines provided similar information during their last reports. This included a description of abnormal acoustic signatures and strange tactics being employed by the approaching group of Chinese ships. Based on their location, we can assume that these approaching Chinese ships were the newly-sized-up Liaoning Strike Group, the southernmost Chinese carrier group. At the ranges our submarines were picking up these acoustics, it was impossible for them to identify exactly what they were hearing. But the onboard computers weren’t able to classify it as anything we’ve seen before.”
One of the helicopter squadron commanding officers sat a few seats down from Plug. The commander raised his hand and asked a few questions about the acoustic signals. The tactics and technical details of antisubmarine warfare were quite complex, and many in the room were unable to follow.
Their conversation went back and forth for a moment before the CAG interrupted, saying, “Alright, guys. Dumb it down for the old jet jock, please. You must have some thoughts on what these noises were.”
The briefer said, “In short, CAG, we think it’s some new type of ASW platform. A completely new technology. These fast-attack boats should be practically invisible to the Chinese until they’re right on top of them. But apparently, that’s not what happened. We don’t know how the Chinese are doing it, but they’ve found a way to detect our submarines at long ranges from their surface units and prosecute them with deadly efficiency.”
More uneasy silence in the room.
Admiral Manning said, “If true, this changes the balance of power significantly.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What are the latest locations of each Chinese fleet now?”
The PACFLEET intelligence officer shifted his weight around. “We’re working on getting an update, sir. But it’s been more than twenty-four hours, and it’s hard to comply with the cease-fire agreement and gain an exact location. These submarines were able to do it covertly. But—”
“But that’s not an option anymore.”
“Correct, Admiral.”
Admiral Manning said, “And we can’t get ISR in there?”
“Sending aircraft that far west would violate the cease-fire agreement.”
“That’s assuming the Chinese fleets are abiding by that agreement. What if they’re moving east of the one-forty-four?”
“Sir, we’re working on a solution. Even if hostilities resume, without satellite coverage, and with the denied area expanding, ISR will be challenging. Prior to the cease-fire, surface-to-air missiles took out many of our drones and reconnaissance aircraft. The Chinese surface-to-air range has proven to be much greater than originally thought. The Air Force is working on getting more recon satellites up, but we don’t have confirmation on when that will be.”
The CAG said, “Cease-fire my ass. They’re reloading and taking territory.”
Admiral Manning said, “Has the US made any complaints to the Chinese about violating the cease-fire?”
“Sir, that’s been discussed, but it’s a hard point to make given their location. In both cases, our submarines were in violation of the cease-fire agreement since they were west of the hundred and forty-fourth longitude line.”
Admiral Manning frowned. “I suppose as long as we pretend that we weren’t there, the Chinese will pretend they didn’t sink them.”
The PACFLEET intel officer opened his mouth to speak but decided against it. People began talking heatedly around the room.
Admiral Manning said, �
��Alright, let’s settle down and wrap up.”
“Thank you, sir.” He looked around the room. “Many of you are probably wondering why I’ve flown out here to tell you this, with the Ford Strike Group being so far away.”
Plug certainly was.
“Our China analysts believe that if the war heats up again, the PLA Navy will continue pushing east, challenging our Pacific Fleet for dominance. If that happens, we expect that Hawaii and Guam will again both be prime targets. We’ll need the Ford Strike Group to be prepared to face these Chinese fleets, and to assume that our submarines will need to stand off until we can counter this new ASW technology.”
Admiral Manning frowned. “Thank you for the brief, Captain. Please relay my request up the chain. The warfighters need locations on the two Chinese strike groups. We need to know exactly what this new ASW technology is and how to defeat it. And we need both of these intelligence reports yesterday.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, there’s an old saying in the Navy. I’m paraphrasing a bit, but it goes something like this: If you want to put a hole in a carrier, use a missile. If you want to sink a carrier, use a torpedo. If this Chinese ASW capability is as deadly as our analysts think it is, that takes away our submarine force’s ability to sink those enemy carriers. That puts us at a significant disadvantage. Because they can still sink us.”
17
Eglin AFB
Florida
The war was only a week old, but already David felt like the country had been transported back in time to the 1940s. Periodic radio and TV broadcasts had supplanted the internet. Fuel, meals, and clothing were being rationed. Patriotism was through the roof, and military recruitment centers had lines around the corner as able-bodied men and women tried to sign up for the armed forces. Yesterday David had even seen a report come across his desk that several US auto manufacturers were converting their factories to make military equipment.
The workers at those manufacturing plants would keep their jobs. Others weren’t so lucky. Over the last twenty years, the global economy had been built upon global trade and had grown increasingly reliant on high-speed internet connectivity. With the Chinese EMP attack, that era had come to a halt.
