“I’d take five dollars of that,” McGarvey said.
Paradise started to say something, but then shook his head. “I don’t think I’d care to bet against you after all.”
The angle on the bow was sharp. Harding was wasting no time getting back to the protection of the thermocline. But it made walking difficult, especially down ladders.
“Here we are,” Paradise said, shoving back the curtain.
Harding was just pouring a cup of coffee. He turned around and smiled pleasantly. “Ah, McGarvey. It’s nice to see you again.” After the Tanegashima mission they had gotten together with their wives for drinks and dinner in Washington. The women had gotten along very well, and McGarvey and Harding had talked over dinner and then at the bar afterward until midnight. There didn’t seem to be a subject that they disagreed on.
“Hello, Tom. Thanks for the lift.”
“Getting off the George must have been interesting.”
“Next time I’ll leave it to the kids,” McGarvey said. “This is Lieutenant Hank Hanrahan. He’s along for the ride.”
The captain noticed the SEAL insignia. “I suspect that you’re going to have an interesting time of it.”
“Yes, sir,” Hanrahan agreed happily.
They sat down at the compact table, and Paradise poured them coffee. If anything, it was better than the coffee on the George, which was going some because the carrier was the flag vessel for both fleets during this operation.
“Okay, Mac, you’re aboard safe and sound, and a lot of people went through a whole lot of trouble to get you here, so what’s the program?” Harding asked. He was not a man to beat around the bush; not with his questions, nor with his orders. When you dealt with Harding you were dealing with a straight shooter. It was one of the qualities McGarvey liked about the man.
McGarvey handed him the carte blanche letter from the President. Harding quickly read it and handed it back. He was not overly impressed.
McGarvey handed him another envelope, this one sealed. “Once you’ve taken a look at that you’re committed, Tom.”
A flinty look came into the captain’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have picked you up if I wasn’t already committed.”
“No one outside of this room can know what the real mission is.”
Harding considered it for a moment. He looked at Hanrahan. “Do you know what this contains, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir.”
Harding opened the envelope, quickly scanned the three pages it contained, then read them again before handing them to his XO. This time he was impressed.
“You’ll have to maintain radio silence,” McGarvey said. “We’re on our own now until we get back to Pearl, no matter what happens.”
“All this because the old men in Beijing are frightened,” Harding said, amazed. “But this isn’t all of it. There’s more.”
“Frightened men are capable of just about anything.”
“The question becomes how far are we willing to go to protect an ally,” Harding mused. “We’re talking about the potential for a nuclear exchange here. So I suppose just about anything should be considered. Even a stunt as harebrained as this one.”
McGarvey didn’t have a chance to answer before Harding cut him off.
“I think it’s worth a try, Mac,” he said. He glanced at Hanrahan. “When I said interesting, that was one hell of an understatement.”
Paradise finished reading the mission statement, then reached behind him and took out a chart of northern Taiwan and the waters around it. They moved the coffee cups so that he could spread it out on the table.
“Keelung will be your best bet,” Harding said. “It’s a big enough city so you might not be noticed. And if we make our approach from the southeast, we’ll have deep water to within just a few miles of the coast.”
“That’s what we thought,” McGarvey agreed. “We can get transportation there, and Taipei is only fifteen miles away.”
“We can supply you with an inflatable and a muffled outboard, but you’ll have to find someplace secure to hide it. I expect that the Taiwanese are a little jumpy about now. They’ll have plenty of shore patrols out and about.”
“We’re going in as just about who we really are,” McGarvey explained. “We’re American military advisors, so it’ll be up to the Taiwanese to keep quiet about us. It’s something they’ll understand.”
“Okay, so that gets you to Taipei, then what?” Paradise asked. “It’s a big city, maybe two million people.”
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks, Rod, to figure out things like that,” McGarvey said. There was no reason for him or Harding to know what that part of the plan was. In fact no one knew, not even Hanrahan. Nor would they ever.
“How about a time line, then?” Harding asked.
“If we’re not back in twenty-four hours, get the hell out, someplace where you can phone home and let them know that we’re overdue. The mission name is MAGIC LANTERN.”
“What’s the earliest we can expect you?”
“That depends on when you get us to Keelung.”
“We could have them ashore by midnight,” Paradise said, looking up from the chart. “Even if we take it slow and easy.”
“In that case with any luck we’ll be back before sunrise,” McGarvey said. “But the bad news is you’ll have to surface.”
“We can mask just about any surface radar, but if a surveillance aircraft or fighter/interceptor gets close enough, the game will be up.”
“We’ll have to take the chance.”
“You’re bringing something or someone aboard?”
“Something like that.”
Harding looked at the mission outline again. “We have one thing going for us. This side of the island is fairly secure. If the PRC makes a move, they’ll come from the west. The bulk of Taiwan’s ASW assets are directed that way.” He looked up. “Getting in and out will be the least of our problems, I think. Your mission ashore will be the tough nut to crack.”
“Like I said, Tom, that’s why they pay me the big bucks,” McGarvey replied.
2050 Local SSN 405 Hekou
“Conn, sonar.”
Heishui grabbed the phone. “This is the captain.”
“Sir, Sierra Eighteen is on the move. She just turned southeast, relative bearing two-zero-eight, and she’s making turns for ten knots.”
Heishui turned to his Officer of the Deck. “Turn right to two-zero-eight, and make your speed ten knots.”
“Aye, sir. Make my course two-zero-eight, my speed one-zero knots.”
Heishui turned back to the phone. “If he starts to make a clearing turn, or you even think that he might be about to do it, let me know immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
Heishui replaced the phone. “Prepare to commence all stop and emergency silent operations on my command,” he told his COB.
“Yes, sir.”
Heishui went to the chart table, where he laid out the American submarine’s present position, course, and speed. Projecting her line of advance brought her to the north coast of Taiwan about midnight. A mystery within a mystery, he thought glumly.
United Nations Security Council
Chou en Ping, the Chinese ambassador to the United Nations, got slowly to his feet, an all-but-unreadable expression on his flattened oriental face. Until his appointment three years ago he had been head of the Mathematics Department at Beijing University. Very few people in the entire UN were smarter than he was. Sometimes talking to him seemed like an exercise in futility.
“We have come to an impasse,” he said in English. He directed his remark to Margaret Woolsey, the U.S. ambassador. “I have been directed by my government to ask that the voice of reason prevail. We call on the provincial government of Taiwan to immediately hand, over the criminal Shi Shizong. We are sending a military delegation to Taipei to arrest him within twelve hours.”
Margaret Woolsey looked around the chamber at the others, trying to gauge their moods th
is morning. It was a few minutes after 8:00 A.M., and the session had been going with only a couple of short breaks since nine o’clock the previous evening. They were all tired, their thinking somewhat dulled. It was exactly what Ping wanted. She offered a faint smile. “There will forever be an impasse when it involves the issue of individual freedom,” she said. It was the harshest condemnation of mainland China’s current actions, and some of the other delegates looked up in interest.
“Do you wish to debate the human rights issue again, Madame Ambassador?” Ping asked, pleasantly. “Shall we begin with Harlem, Detroit, or Watts?”
“Let us start with political asylum.”
“That would first presuppose the criminal seeking such protection were to seek it of a legitimate nation. Illinois can no more offer political asylum to a federal fugitive than can Taiwan from China.”
Margaret Woolsey felt a cautious thrill of triumph. Ping was apparently as tired as the rest of them. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Mr. Ambassador.”
Ping seemed momentarily confused.
“The issue is Taiwan, not Peter Shizong.” She held up a hand before Ping, realizing his stupid blunder, could interrupt. “But I agree that Mr. Shizong’s case is a special one of great concern to your government, as well as to mine. It is an issue that should be considered by an impartial panel of judges. I propose that Mr. Shizong be handed over at once to the World Court in The Hague, where he should stand trial to show cause why he should not be returned to the People’s Republic of China to face charges of treason.”
Ping nodded. “Shall we prepare a list of U.S. criminals who should be handed over to the World Court for the same consideration?”
“If you wish, Mr. Ambassador,” Margaret Woolsey said. “Though I would sincerely hope that a connection will be made between them and the current problem between Taiwan and China.”
Ping was holding a fountain pen in his hand. He put it in his coat pocket. “Twelve hours, Madame Ambassador. And I do hope that reason will prevail when our delegation arrives in Taipei.” His gaze swept around the chamber, then he turned and walked out.
0405 Local SSN 21 Seawolf
McGarvey climbed up into the escape trunk. They were about three miles off Taiwan’s coast, just west of Keelung. He was worried that they were running out of time. It would be light on the surface soon. Unless they got off shortly, they would have to withdraw and lie on the bottom until nightfall. As it was they were running way behind schedule. Every hour that the standoff between the PRC and Taiwan, with the U.S. in the middle, continued, the chances that shooting would begin and someone would get hurt increased exponentially.
The problem was the patrol boats. They were unexpectedly swarming all over the place topside. Along with the increased commercial traffic, this part of the ocean was practically as busy as New York’s Times Square on New Year’s Eve. No one had considered that since the entire west coast of Taiwan was all but cut off from outside traffic, the major ports on the island’s east side, among them Keelung, would have to take up the slack. They had been waiting for an opening since before midnight.
The phone outside the trunk buzzed, and Paradise answered it. “This is the XO.” He nodded, then looked up and gave them the thumbs-up sign. “I’ll tell them.” He hung up. “Okay, it’s clear for now. The captain says that we’ll wait on the bottom here until you get back. Sonar will pick up your outboard, and we’ll surface if it looks okay.”
There were Chinese spies everywhere. If the Seawolf was spotted on the surface, the game would be all but up. “If it’s not clear, come to fifty feet and we’ll get aboard the same way we did last night,” McGarvey said. He did not want to get stuck in the middle of a war zone.
Hanarahan looked startled. “But we were told that he can’t swim.”
“He’ll have to learn,” McGarvey shot back.
Paradise picked up on the exchange, but he shook his head. “I don’t even want to know what you guys are talking about. We’ll be here, okay? Just watch your asses.”
“If we’re not back by midnight, pull the pin, Rod, and call home.”
“I’ll tell the captain,” Paradise said. He swung the escape-trunk hatch shut. Hanrahan dogged it tight, then hit the flood button, and immediately the cold water began to rise.
“What do you figure our chances are, Mr. M?” Hanrahan asked.
“Name’s Mac, and I’d guess about fifty-fifty.”
Hanrahan grinned from ear to ear. “Good deal. When we started they were only a hundred to one.”
0410 Local SSN 405 Hekou
“Sir, that is definitely their escape trunk,” Zenzhong reported excitedly. “The hatch is opening now.” The chief sonarman pressed his earphones tighter. “Wait.”
“Stand by,” Lagao told the captain waiting on the phone.
“They’ve released something into the water.”
“A life raft?” Lagao suggested.
Zenzhong looked up and nodded. “Yes, sir. I can hear the inflation noises now.”
“Any idea how many people are leaving the submarine?”
“No, sir. But the hatch remains open, so no one else is leaving the boat.”
“Keep a close ear, Ensign,” Lagao said. He hung up the phone and walked back to the control room, where he and the captain hunched over the chart table.
The Hekou was like a puppy dog lying behind its mother. The Seawolf had cleared her baffles three times on the way in, but each time Heishui was just a little faster shutting down because he anticipated the maneuver, whereas the American captain had no reason to believe that his boat was being followed.
“They put someone on the surface with an inflatable, but they left the door open, so it means they’re coming back,” Lagao said. He had a wild idea what the Americans might be up to, but he didn’t dare voice his opinion to the captain. Not yet. It was just too crazy.
Heishui studied the chart. “They went through a great deal of trouble to rendezvous in secret with their carrier and then take someone aboard. That was a very risky maneuver. And now, presumably whoever transferred from the George Washington is going ashore. Interesting.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Navy SEALs?”
“They’re trained for such maneuvers,” Lagao said. The PRC Navy didn’t have a unit quite like the American SEALs. To the average Chinese sailor an American SEAL was ten feet tall, could run the hundred-yard dash in four seconds, and ate raw concrete for breakfast.
“But why go ashore in secret?” Heishui asked. “The U.S. and the criminal government of Taiwan are allies. Why didn’t they simply fly in? Unless they didn’t want us to know about it.”
“That’s a reasonable assumption, Captain.”
Heishui looked up at his executive officer. “What is it? What are you thinking?”
Lagao was uncomfortable. He had served with many officers in his career but never with one who so hated speculation as Heishui. Yet his captain had asked him a direct question, and one of the primary functions of an executive officer was to make suggestions.
“I was thinking that the reason we’re here is to resolve the issue of Shi Shizong. Taipei has gone too far this time. They need to come home.”
Heishui looked at his XO thoughtfully. “Go on.”
“If Shizong were suddenly to disappear from Taiwan, and show up someplace else, our position would not be quite as tenable.” Lagao chose his words with extreme care. He was walking a fine line between reason and treason.
“We have spies at every international airport on the island: He would be spotted if he tried to fly out,” Heishui said. “And there are probably others who are very close to him, watching his every move. How else would we know as much about him as we do?” Heishui dismissed the suggestion. “The Taiwanese are not interested in giving him up in any event. They want him as badly as we want him.” He shook his head. “And you’re forgetting the Nanchong.”
“What if the Americans mean to kidnap him?” Lagao pressed.<
br />
A startled expression crossed Heishui’s face. “Take him away aboard the American submarine?”
“However improbable, Captain, it is a possibility that we should consider.”
“What would they do with him?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lagao said. “The point is he would no longer be on the island. Other than the Nanchong, there’d no longer be any current reason for us to be here.”
“Unless we could prove that he was aboard the Seawolf, and report it to Ningbo,” Heishui answered. He picked up the growler phone. “Sonar, this is the captain.”
“Sonar, aye.”
“What’s Sierra Eighteen doing now?”
“He’s heading to the bottom, sir.”
“What about the inflatable they sent up?”
“It’s heading ashore, sir.”
“How do you know that?”
“I can hear the small outboard motor.”
That’s exactly what Heishui thought. “The moment it returns I want to know. It may be hours, even days, but I want to know.”
“Yes, sir.”
Heishui hung up. “When they come back the Seawolf will lift off the bottom. They’ll make noise. In the confusion we’ll send a man up with night-vision glasses to see with his own eyes who is aboard the inflatable.”
0445 Local Taiwan
“Cut the motor,” McGarvey ordered urgently. Hanrahan complied instantly. They were about fifty yards off a commercial wharf. There were no boats tied up, nor were there any lights except for one pinprick of a yellow beam. Hanrahan spotted it.
“A patrol?”
“Looks like it.” The flashlight moved slowly to the left, stopping every few feet. At one point the narrow beam of light flashed across the water. It was far too weak to reach out to them, but they ducked nevertheless.
On their chart the dock belonged to a fisheries company. Either the fleet was out tending nets, which McGarvey found hard to believe in the middle of a war situation, or all fishing had been suspended and the boats had been commandeered for patrols. They had expected to find minimal activity there tonight, but this was even better than they’d hoped for.
Combat Page 58
