Overwhelming Force

by Andrew Watts

  The sixteen tier-one special operators from DEVGRU sat along one side of the room, the Navy aircrews on the other. Quiet conversations, all covering the same topic. What the hell were they doing here? Victoria was the only one who knew, and she kept her mouth shut.

  The door to the trailer classroom opened, and General Schwartz, wearing green digital camouflage utilities, walked towards the front of the room, two civilians in tow.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, good morning. I have good news and bad. The bad news is, the Chinese have a new technology embedded in one of their warships. This ship is the central unit in the largest modern armada ever to put to sea. And our intelligence reports say they’re headed this way, to attack Hawaii.”

  The general looked around the room. “The good news…is that you all get to do something about that.”

  Between the general and the two intelligence officers he had with him, they covered all aspects of the mission. He introduced Victoria and the DEVGRU commander.

  “Commander Manning will have tactical control of the mission until the assault team puts boots on deck. At that point, it’s DEVGRU’s show. We’ll be bringing in some special equipment today that will be installed in the aircraft. Tonight we’ll have a team-building mandatory-fun-ex for you at the local tiki bar. I’m buying. Training begins tomorrow at zero eight hundred. Does anyone have any questions? No? Then let me begin.”

  The general and the two civilian aides went over the strategy, which had been developed by some joint CIA-military team he kept calling SILVERSMITH. Whatever the hell that was. The basic idea was that the US was now developing a new type of electronic attack weapon. A directed-energy technology that would enable them to use both Johnston Atoll and the French Frigate Shoals island as gateways. These gates would allow friendly ships in and out of a giant perimeter of mines that would surround Hawaii.

  The helicopters were needed because the vital final parts of the American technology were going to arrive late, brought in from labs in the United States. By the time that happened, they expected the Jiaolong and its fleet to be within range of Johnston Atoll. It would be a race for the Americans to reach Johnston Atoll and install the equipment before the Chinese could get there. The special forces troops would ensure that even if they met resistance, they could still succeed. Well, within reason.

  When they finished describing the plan, Victoria looked around the room. Stunned silence. She understood why. The plan was audacious at best, a suicide mission at worst.

  “Questions?”

  One of the aviators said, “Why helicopters? Why not use a C-130 transport or something?”

  General Schwartz looked at Victoria, then back at the pilot who had asked the question. “By the time the Jiaolong is in range, anything that’s airborne may be shot down. We have a jamming technology, if you could call it that, that will allow your four aircraft to remain off their radar. But you’ll be very low over the ocean. We went over aircraft capabilities, and this was our best option.”

  The pilot frowned and started to ask a follow-up question, but Victoria interjected. “That’s all we will discuss on that topic.” He caught her eye. While he didn’t understand, he knew enough to shut up.

  Plug spoke from the back of the classroom. “Sir, okay…let me get this straight. I think what you guys are saying is that this Jiaolong-class ship is like the Death Star. And you guys think you have a way to find the air vent with your special equipment, which may or may not work. And the air vent isn’t really like the Death Star, it’s more like an inverse radar cone or something. So we fly like…forever…over water with these ultra-tough special forces guys.” He looked at the operator sitting next to him. “’Sup.” Then he turned back to the general. “And they’re going to install our new American secret weapon, which will neutralize the Chinese super-weapon. Am I mostly getting it right?”

  General Schwartz blinked. “So, anyone else have any questions or comments?”

  Plug’s hand shot up again. Victoria shook her head.

  “One more thing, sir. You did say that you had the tab when we go to the tiki bar tonight, correct?”

  The mission planning and aircrew brief took the entirety of the morning. Lunch was brought to them in the classrooms, and the first training flight was scheduled for that afternoon.

  Like a coach training his team for the Super Bowl, General Schwartz oversaw each evolution.

  That afternoon, the pilots, aircrew, and special forces soldiers stood in a gaggle on the flight line. General Schwartz and one of civilians he had with him were speaking to someone on the radio and checking their watches.

  Victoria saw the maintenance chief waiting over by a push cart. Two computers waiting atop the cart. He gestured for her and Plug to come over while they were waiting.

  The chief said, “Alright, ma’am, sir, it took us all night, but we installed the new equipment in place of the APS-153.”

  Plug said, “Wait, what?”

  Victoria said, “It’s part of the special equipment package. Our radar has been replaced by the electronic attack package General Schwartz mentioned. It’ll use the same power source and console as the radar. That’s pretty much why the Romeo helicopters are involved.”

  Plug said, “So they just take off the APS-153 and throw on some new gadget down there? Doesn’t it need to go through like five years of testing first? Is it even safe for flight? Wait. So now I won’t have radar?”

  Victoria shot him a look. “Correct. If they remove the radar, we no longer have radar.”

  “Safe for flight in the literal sense, yes. By regulation, no. But this is a special circumstance. Relax, Plug, we can’t use our radar anyway. We can’t emit anything that might be detected.”

  The chief said, “Sir, the internal switches are all the same. The contractor guy said you’re supposed to have it on the whole time you’re over water. There he is.”

  The equipment expert who had installed the electronic jamming equipment came over and explained to the four Romeo pilots how it worked.

  When he was finished, Plug shrugged. “Okay.” He looked at the chief. “Replace anything else?”

  “No, sir.”

  The chief smiled. “Now if you could just sign the book here.” Plug rolled his eyes and then signed the maintenance forms.

  A few minutes later, General Schwartz squeezed off an air horn. “Clock’s running. That’s our simulated alert. Let’s go!”

  The aircrews and special forces men ran into the helicopters. Victoria and Plug flew together. Their hands raced through the start-up procedure, verbalizing it as they went. All four helicopters’ engines began whining, rotors turning over the pavement. Within minutes, the four helicopters had taken off and flew low over the water in a tight formation.

  Twenty miles out to sea, a US Navy supply ship was in position. The four helicopters arrived overhead, and the DEVGRU team began fast-roping from the cabins of the MH-60S Seahawks. Then the aircraft flew racetrack patterns while the SEALs conducted a practice assault of the ship. An hour later, they were back on the beach.

  General Schwartz was waiting for them there. The helicopters conducted a hot refuel, their rotors still turning. Everyone took turns using the head during those few minutes. Victoria met with General Schwartz. He yelled into her ear over the sound of the rotors.

  “It didn’t go well. Our test radars could still see you. You’ll need to fly lower. And they’re making tweaks on the jamming device now. The engineers want you to make another run.”

  Victoria nodded and gave a thumbs-up, then got back in the aircraft. They flew the training mission three more times, switching to night vision goggles after sunset.

  It was two a.m. by the time they finished the day’s training. Victoria’s flight suit was drenched, her muscles cramping from more than ten hours in the air, much of it spent traveling at twenty-five feet above the surface of the water at the aircraft’s maximum speed. Her eyes stung from sweat and oil.

  The next day’s train
ing didn’t begin until sunset. The practice boat had been moved farther out to sea, to simulate the longer ride. On the way, Plug asked, “Why are we practicing on a boat anyway?”

  Victoria said, “Because we can’t let anyone see what we’re doing on land. The operator’s job is pretty simple. Secure an area and get the tech expert to the right spot to install the final piece of equipment.”

  Plug looked at her like the explanation didn’t make any sense, but he let it go. Victoria was grateful for that.

  Each training mission became a little more challenging. They added more weight and equipment. Auxiliary fuel tanks full of fuel to give them better range. Hellfire missiles on all aircraft, and even rocket pods on the Sierras. On day three, they began training with each weapon fired from the helicopters. Hellfire missile shoots. Sniper training from the cabin of her aircraft. Every possible contingency was planned for. But as Victoria flew back during one of the flights, she looked over her notes.

  Plug saw her with her lip light on, scribbling something on her kneeboard in the dark. “What’s a matter?”

  “We wouldn’t have enough fuel.”

  “We’ll have a couple of LCSs to get gas on, right?”

  “Right.” She wasn’t sure if she sounded convincing or not.

  The flying and training were nonstop. Every bit of nighttime was used for training, and they slept during the day. Their tier-one special operations team members weren’t too happy with the way the Navy crews were performing at first. They kept saying things like, “Well, the SOAR guys do it like this…”.

  By day five, things had smoothed out. After the aircraft had shut down, Victoria walked with the DEVGRU commander towards General Schwartz’s trailer. “I think your guys are getting the hang of it.”

  She nodded. “Yours too.”

  He laughed.

  “Think this’ll work?”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  Inside the trailer, the general said, “Our radar experts and engineers are following your flight over water. They still aren’t completely satisfied with the radar signature, but it’s gotten much better. They’ll make some final tweaks to the equipment overnight. Tomorrow you won’t be doing any training.”

  Victoria said, “Why not?”

  “Based on the latest position of the Chinese fleet, we need you to start on a twenty-four-hour alert. Be ready to go at any time now.”

  33

  Chase arrived at the JSOC base to find most of the units had packed up and shipped out. He had been traveling back and forth between here and Eglin every other day for almost two weeks. It had been frustrating. He’d been shut out of many of the SILVERSMITH meetings that his brother, David, attended. They had a whole other level of secrecy that they were operating on now. They fed him bits and pieces of information, but all he wanted to hear was that it was time to go after Lena.

  That day had finally arrived.

  The only remaining unit was the SEAL team he had operated with. He met with them in one of the briefing rooms and asked for an update.

  “The Rangers got sent to the West Coast. Delta left this morning. The other SEALs too. Intel says we’ve killed or captured just about all of the Chinese that were INCONUS. That what you’re hearing?”

  Chase said, “Almost all of them.” Until now, Chase hadn’t been able to tell them anything about Lena Chou.

  The SEALs waited patiently. Attack dogs licking their chops. Chase brought in two men from the SILVERSMITH team, including the NSA signals intelligence expert. They explained the new mission requirement, and why it was so important. Chase noted that they left out his relationship with Lena Chou. He was thankful for that.

  The NSA man said, “The Chinese SOF unit is known as the South Sword Team. They’re the Chinese equivalent of naval special warfare and should be considered a top-tier unit. They’re using state-of-the-art communications equipment and following good COMSEC procedures, so we’ve had trouble tracking them.”

  Chase said, “But we know where they are headed. We’ve identified the American whom Miss Chou is set to meet with. There is now a counterespionage team assigned to that individual twenty-four-seven.”

  The NSA man continued, “Based on communications intercepts, we believe they’ll try to meet face-to-face at one of several locations. Once that happens, she’ll have information that’s vital to Chinese war plans, which she will then attempt to transmit back to Chinese HQ.”

  One of the SEALs said, “How long has she been in-country?”

  “For over a week, we think.”

  “Why hasn’t she met with this guy yet?”

  The intelligence briefer said, “You ever try to infiltrate a foreign country under martial law, after an EMP strike, and travel a thousand miles without being detected, then meet with a highly placed spy inside one of the foreign military’s most secure facilities? The highways aren’t really an option. It takes a while.”

  “Well, when you put it like that…”

  The SEAL team leader said, “What’s our objective?”

  Chase said, “The South Sword Team has the communications equipment. Based on the communications procedures needed to operate this equipment, Lena Chou will have to physically be with the South Sword Team when she transmits her newly acquired information back to China. The counterespionage team is going to make sure that Lena gets information we want her to send instead.”

  “Did they turn Lena’s spy into a double agent?”

  “No.”

  The SEAL team leader and senior enlisted looked at each other, frowning. “Then how the hell are you going to get her to send the information that you want her to send, instead of what she gets from the mole?”

  “We’re going to swap out the mole with one of ours. A lookalike who will feed Lena Chou bad information.”

  The SEAL team leader said, “So Lena has never met this person?”

  Chase looked at the intelligence experts, then back at the SEALs. “That’s what we believe.”

  A few of the SEALs laughed. “Wonderful.” One of them swore.

  Chase smiled. “Look, I know, fellas. You’re thinking this is FUBAR. But operationally, this is our best play. There’s no way to feed the mole bad intel or take him too early. Both of those scenarios could tip off Lena Chou or the Chinese handlers. The best way to do this is to take the mole right as they’re about to meet with Lena and replace them with someone else. If Lena buys it, she brings back the false information and sends it to the Chinese. Then they act on it the way we want.”

  “What is it you want them to do?”

  “I can’t go into that.”

  The SEAL team leader said, “So where do we fit in?”

  “If something goes wrong—”

  “Which it will,” the SEAL team leader said.

  “—then you’ll need to neutralize the South Sword Team before they can transmit.”

  The SEAL team leader said, “Well, at least now you’re making sense.”

  Two hours later, they were flying east over the Appalachian Mountains in a pair of Chinooks. They landed at a prestaged landing zone near Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, just a short flight away from the Raven Rock Mountain Complex where the mole was located.

  The SEALs were wearing civilian clothes now and packed into a group of four inconspicuous-looking pickup trucks that were waiting for them at the landing site. Well, they were about as inconspicuous as two dozen extremely hard-core-looking men traveling together can be. At least the heavy weaponry was hidden in the truck beds, Chase thought. The plan was for them to split up into groups of four and look like hunters as they searched for signs of the Chinese South Sword Team. It was a little risky. Special operations air support was minutes away, standing by for their call. And in order to remain covert, they had to accept risk.

  Chase spoke with the SEAL team leader through the passenger window of one of the trucks. “I’ll be going back and forth between you and the counterespionage team.”

  “Understood. We’ll be
scouting out a few of the areas the signals intel folks want us to explore.”

  “Be safe. Good luck.”

  The SEAL tipped his ball cap, and the vehicles drove off.

  Chase drove to meet up with the counterespionage unit. They were holed up in a detached townhome ten minutes from the Raven Rock Mountain Complex. His brother, David, and Susan Collinsworth were both there waiting for him.

  She looked nervous. “The mole is a civilian employee at the Office of Naval Intelligence. A GS-15. Name is Edward Luntz.”

  For OPSEC reasons, this was the first time Chase had been given these details.

  “How do we know it’s him?”

  “Intel from China allowed us to uncover his handler. The handler is now in our interrogation center at Eglin and provided information that led us to Luntz. We’ve been closely monitoring him since. Luntz’s communications and activities have matched up to Lena Chou’s assignment.

  “Does Luntz know that we have his handler?”

  David said, “There’s no indication that he does. The handler was supposed to break off contact and go underground, to avoid Luntz getting found out. The last thing he did was give him a new list of dead drops and meeting locations near Raven Rock, which we now have.”

  They spent the next thirty minutes going over the possible meeting locations, and how they would take down Luntz.

  “Our lookalike agent will be standing by to go meet with Lena. The agent has strict instructions on what to do and say. Then they’ll make an excuse and leave, so as to limit the potential for saying the wrong thing and tipping Lena off.”

  Chase shook his head. “Look, you’re the one with the field experience here, but this just seems…”

  Susan said, “We know, Chase. There’s a good chance that Lena will realize something is amiss. That’s why you’re here. You’ll attempt to take her down if she flees. And she’ll probably have backup from the South Sword Team. Your friends from SEAL Team Two will be there to assist you if things go…”