Lash-Up

by Larry Bond

  The food was excellent, and they’d spent most of the first hour on small talk and joking about what else the management could paint or dye blue. Officially, this was their third date, but the first two were over pizza or Chinese carryout at Ray’s house working on Defender’s design. Ray still smiled thinking about it.

  “I’m so sorry, Ray.” Jenny sounded as disappointed as Ray felt. “But to be honest, it’s a typical bureaucratic response from a risk-averse flag officer.” It was supposed to be a “night off” for the Defender design group, but she’d changed her plans so she could meet him for dinner. Her mere presence made him feel better.

  “You’re right,” he admitted. “A purely bureaucratic reaction. He shredded it, put a match to it, and stomped on the ashes.” Ray tried to smile, but it wasn’t in him. His attempt at humor was too close to the truth. “I knew it was a long shot, but I didn’t expect the command to be hostile. Indifferent, yes, or even negative, but I’d hoped for some understanding. Admiral Carson would have thrown me in the brig if he could justify it.”

  She laughed, in spite of his grim expression. “You’re joking.” He liked her laugh.

  Ray shook his head. “That’s no joke, unfortunately. He’s siccing the IG on me, to see if I’ve wasted any navy time on this quote ‘half-baked fantasy’ unquote.”

  “That’s not good.” She paused, then asked, “So, you’ve gone all the way up your chain of command with no success?”

  “I’d call that an understatement,” he replied.

  “Well, then it’s time to try another chain,” she said forcefully. “Let me make some calls.”

  “What?” Ray was horrified. “Jenny! I’m poison now. If the IG finds out you’re actively helping me, they’ll want to talk to you. Please, just ditch anything you have with my name on it.”

  Ray saw the surprised expression on her face and quickly corrected himself. “No! I don’t mean like that.” He took her hand. “Finding you may be the only good thing to come out of this mess, but I don’t want you to get in trouble because of my foolishness.”

  “It’s my choice, Ray. I believe in you and Defender.”

  “But if you get in trouble, I’ll feel terrible…”

  “Since when are you responsible for me?” she asked sharply. There was an indignant undertone in her voice that he hadn’t heard before. “If I help, it’s because I think Defender is worthwhile, not because I’m some love-struck female.”

  Ray grinned. “Darn. I was hoping for ‘love-struck.’”

  “Don’t change the subject,” she snapped angrily. “You’re not responsible for my actions,” she repeated.

  “It’s just that it was my idea, so of course if you get involved…”

  “If I get involved? Who’s been over at your house five out of the last six nights? Who helped design the command and control suite?” The undertone was growing in strength.

  Ray tried a different approach. “Jenny, right now your name is one of many on a list on page two. Making phone calls will show up on the IG’s radar…”

  “Are you so afraid the IG will find something? Is there anything for him to find?”

  “No, not a thing!” he protested.

  “Then maybe you don’t think Defender is worth a few risks?” The infuriated undertone was now her only tone.

  In spite of it, Ray pressed on. “By me, not by anyone else, and especially not by you!”

  “I don’t need your protection,” she responded sharply. “So Defender is your personal property, then. You want all the credit.”

  “I don’t want any of the credit. I just want it to be built!”

  “None of the credit, but all of the risk? Then you’re a martyr.”

  “No, wait…”

  She held up a hand, stopping his protest. “Doing anything important means taking risks, and in the case of Defender, more than most.” She sharpened her tone, aiming the words straight at Ray. “Are you really committed to making it happen? You’ll do whatever it takes?”

  “Yes, of course,” he answered immediately.

  “Then accept the risk and move forward. You know, I’m going to make those calls whether you want me to or not. You don’t own Defender anymore, and I don’t need your permission.”

  “Yes, Jenny. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  Her tone softened. “I know some people on the NAVAIR staff. Admiral Schultz is a pilot and an ‘operator,’ not some bureaucrat. I’ve worked for him in the past, and I think he’ll give you a chance.”

  Ray didn’t know what to say except, “Thanks, Jenny. I just hope this doesn’t backfire.”

  Office of the Chief of Staff of the Air Force

  The Pentagon

  October 4, 2017

  General Michael Warner was an unusual chief of staff. He flew bombers, not fighters. In an air force that gave fighter pilots most of the stars, it was a sign of his ability not only as an officer but as a politician. Looking more like a banker than a bomber pilot, he had an almost legendary memory, which he used for details: of budgets, people, and events.

  Pilots lived and died because of details. They won and lost battles because of them. And the general kept looking for some small detail that his deputy, General Clifton Ames, had missed. The three-star general had put the target analysis together personally.

  Ames had nothing but bad news. An overhead image of the Gongga Shan launch site filled the wall screen. “I’ve confirmed there’s no way the navy can stretch the range of their Tomahawk missiles. But even if they could, there’s no way a Tomahawk warhead can penetrate that much rock. Not to mention, the warhead is pretty small and will have a limited damage potential. Of course, our conventional air-launched cruise missiles aren’t any better. And even if we could adapt a ballistic missile with a conventional warhead, they aren’t accurate enough for this type of target.”

  His tablet PC linked to the screen, Ames indicated various features of the site as he talked. “The Chinese built this installation expecting it to be attacked by cruise missiles. There are two air bases with multiple J-15 fighter squadrons within two hundred miles, supporting multiple combat-air-patrol stations, and the Chinese have recently started orbiting airborne early-warning aircraft. The facility is also heavily defended by long- and short-range SAMs and triple-A. They’ve mounted modern air-search radars on elevated towers to give them additional warning time of an attack. They’ve even constructed tall open-framework barriers across the approach routes a cruise missile might use.” He pointed to the large girder structures, easily visible in the photograph.

  “The gun and all vital facilities are hardened, and then there’s the matter of the barrel itself. Given its three-meter bore, intelligence says the barrel thickness is at least a foot. Damaging that will require a very precise strike—the very capability we’re now losing.

  “To get an eighty-percent chance of success would take twelve B-2s, each carrying two GBU-57 Massive Ordnance Penetrators.” Ames knew he was talking to a bomber pilot and watched for Warner’s reaction. The chief just nodded glumly, and Ames continued.

  “And the worst part is that unless we damage major portions of the gun, the Chinese could have it back in operation again within a few months, possibly a few weeks. We’re certain the barrel is constructed in sections, like the Iraqi gun design. If a section is damaged, you remove it and replace it with a spare section. We’ve even identified in the imagery where they probably keep the spares.”

  Even as he said it, Ames knew that a bomber strike wasn’t a viable option. Stealth bombers aren’t invisible to radar, but the detection range is reduced to the point where the aircraft can easily avoid them, flying through the gaps in the coverage. But in this situation, there was no way for a stealth bomber to fly around all the defenses. The radars, fighters, SAMs, and guns were all huddled too damn close to each other.

  “What about losses?” Warner asked.

  “Using the standard engagement models for this kind of dense, overlapping defense,”
Ames replied, “there’s a good chance we’ll lose forty to fifty percent of the bombers. And part of the flight path is over very unfriendly Chinese territory.” The implications for search and rescue were not good.

  “All right, Cliff. Send this on to the chairman’s office with my respects. And my apologies,” Warner muttered.

  “Sir, I’ve been looking at the Defender concept,” Ames offered. “One of my friends in STRATCOM passed it to me with an analysis by a former colleague of his in the Rapid Capabilities Office. I think we should consider it.”

  Warner had heard about Defender, of course, but hadn’t had time to do more than dismiss it as a distraction. “Are we really that desperate?” the chief asked.

  Office of the Chief of Naval Operations

  The Pentagon

  October 4, 2017

  “I am not going to go into the Joint Chiefs of Staff and propose that we adopt some crackpot design that came off SIPRNET!” Admiral John Kramer was so agitated that he was pacing, quickly marching back and forth as he protested.

  Admiral William Schultz, Commander, Naval Air Systems Command, sat quietly in his chair. He’d expected this reaction and waited for Kramer to settle down. Schultz was calm, sure of himself and his mission.

  “I’ve spent some time checking out this design, John, and the lead engineer. Both are okay. There are some technical questions that need to be addressed, but nothing McConnell’s team has proposed is science fiction. The man certainly isn’t a ‘crackpot.’ Sure, he had a lot of help. And it is most assuredly an unofficial submission”—Schultz leaned forward for emphasis—“but it’s a reasonable first shot.”

  He sat back, straightening his spine. “It’s also the only decent idea I’ve heard in almost two weeks.”

  Kramer and Schultz were both pilots and had served together several times in their navy careers, but where Kramer was tall, and almost recruiting-poster handsome, Schultz was only of middle height, and stockier. And his looks would never get him any movie deals. His thinning sandy hair was mussed whenever he put his navy cover on, while he was sure Kramer kept his hair in place with mousse. Kramer was a good pilot, but he’d also done well in staff jobs, a “people person.” Or so he thought.

  Used to the convoluted, time-consuming system-acquisition methods of the Pentagon, the CNO continued to object. “Even if we did propose it, and even if it were accepted, where would we get the funding?”

  “Somewhere, John, just like we’ve always done before. The money’s out there; we just have to decide what’s the most important thing to spend it on.”

  Schultz continued, mentally assigning himself three Our Fathers and three Hail Marys. “Look, I’ve heard the air force is buying into Defender in a big way. They think it can work, and as far as they’re concerned, if it’s got wings, it belongs to them.”

  Kramer looked grim. The air force was shameless when they talked about “aerospace power.” He nodded agreement.

  “Let them get their hands on any armed spacecraft, and the next thing you know, we’ll lose SPAWAR. Remember the time they tried to convince Congress that we should scrap our carriers and buy bombers with our money?” Kramer frowned, listening carefully.

  Schultz pressed his point. “Do we have any viable alternative for stopping the Chinese, sir?”

  Kramer shook his head. “The launch site is out of Tomahawk range, and they wouldn’t do any good even if they could get there. The president has already said that he won’t authorize the use of a ballistic missile, even with a conventional warhead—too much ambiguity. And even if we could use them, you’d need lots of missiles. The way that site is hardened, I’m not certain a nuke would do it.”

  “Air Force B-2s could reach it,” Schultz said quietly. “But they can’t be sure they’d get any out alive. The defenses are incredibly thick, and the Chinese are expecting us to use cruise missiles or bombers. This is a better option, John, even though it looks a little crazy.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll try to sell,” Kramer decided reluctantly.

  5

  Summons

  CNN News

  October 5, 2017

  Jane Suzuki was CNN’s lead correspondent in the western Pacific. She was already a household name in the broadcasting field when her coverage of the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami not only earned her several prestigious journalism awards but also cemented her place in the public consciousness. For many Americans, she was their window into Asia.

  For this report on the China-Vietnam crisis, she’d chosen a spot on the plaza in front of the National Diet Building. Most Americans wouldn’t recognize the structure, so she started her broadcast by letting the camera pan over the building and describing it as the Japanese equivalent of the U.S. Capitol.

  “And the Japanese government is only one of several Asian powers watching China with growing concern. I’ve spoken not only with the Vietnamese ambassador, who is ‘alarmed,’ in his words, but also the South Korean and Taiwanese representatives here. They all used different words to express their greatest fear: Is this the end of the U.S. security umbrella?

  “In the last decade, China’s economy and armed forces have undergone spectacular growth, and her foreign policy has become expansionist, aggressive, almost belligerent. Nobody here in Asia believes that the GPS attacks are an isolated or impulsive action. Earlier I spoke with Professor Eji Watanabe, of the China Study Group, here in Tokyo.”

  Watanabe was seated behind his desk, a cluttered bookshelf in the background. His English was heavily accented, and the network had added subtitles. “American military power has dominated East Asia since the end of the Great Pacific War. China wishes to end that, so they create a crisis. First, they concentrate troops to threaten Vietnam. As expected, the U.S. responds by marshaling its own forces in the region as a deterrent. Next, the Chinese reduce U.S. military effectiveness by making bloodless attacks on their GPS satellites. Now, China waits for America to react again.”

  The camera panned to include Suzuki in the view. She asked, “But why is China doing this? Why Vietnam?”

  Watanabe answered instantly. “Because Vietnam is vulnerable. Her small military is no match for China’s in either size or quality. There’s a history of conflict between the two countries, with invasions during both centuries in the past and as recently as 1979. And that doesn’t include the Chinese seizures of Vietnamese island territories in the South China Sea in 1974 and 1988. But most importantly, Vietnam is not a U.S. ally, so the American commitment to protecting Vietnamese security is nowhere near as strong as if it was, say, Japan or the Philippines.

  “The Americans reacted predictably to the Chinese troop concentration by massing their own forces as a counterbalance. But now, because of the loss of their GPS satellites, the American military is weaker and risks greater losses if the U.S and China actually fight.”

  The reporter asked, “Is that the Chinese goal, to conquer Vietnam?”

  The expert shook his head. “No. The Chinese did not do this to gain territory, although if this dispute goes as they have planned, they will gain Vietnam and much more. By increasing the potential cost in blood for something of marginal interest, China is betting America will turn away and lose face.”

  Watanabe continued. “The Chinese wish to replace American military dominance in the region with their own. Economic influence follows from military influence. China doesn’t want a war with the United States. That would be costly for China, even if it wins. Instead, they are taking a page from their own master, Sun Tzu: ‘Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting.’ If they challenge the United States, and she does not or cannot respond effectively, nations in the region will see China as the new leader in the Pacific.”

  Suzuki asked, “Don’t some Asians resent American military dominance anyway?”

  Watanabe smiled. “Certainly, but small nations do best when they h
ave powerful friends. America has been an ally and trading partner for over seventy years to Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, and the Philippines. Even nations that are not U.S. allies have benefited from the stable security environment created by America’s military might.” He sighed. “Nobody expects to flourish under a Chinese hegemony, but if American power fades, we will be forced to accept the new situation and adapt.”

  He straightened is his chair. “The next move is America’s. What will they do? What can they do? Even doing nothing is a response, but we are all hoping that Washington will act, and act wisely.”

  Casa McConnell

  San Diego, CA

  October 5, 2017

  Ray automatically reached for the controller to turn off the TV, but then stopped himself. It was only noise, but he needed to hear other voices. The house was empty. He’d sent out an e-mail two days ago, telling everyone about Admiral Carson’s warning and urging them all to stay away.

  Canceling the design sessions went head-on against the urgency he felt, the urgency that had driven him. There was still so much to be done, but continuing to meet would be in open defiance of Carson’s order. The admiral was angry enough to cashier not only Ray but anyone associated with him.

  The place seemed dark and empty, although he’d turned on lights all over the house. It was just a typical three-bedroom rambler with a red tile roof, like every other home in Southern California. Ray liked having other people around and was happiest when his home was stuffed to capacity—for a party, a football game, a hearty discussion, or sharing his dream to build Defender.

  Reflexively, he started to pick up the place. As busy as they’d been, packing materials from recently purchased computer equipment had been pushed into corners for later disposal. Paper plates and cups, takeout boxes, and empty bottles covered the tables, along with scribbled notes and printouts. Every horizontal surface was equally covered with litter. Many of his walls were heavily adorned with yellow stickies or early versions of Defender’s plans. As crammed and chaotic as his house was during those days and nights when the design team was going full bore, Ray had to admit those were good times. The vacant rooms, with the sound from the TV echoing off the walls, were crushingly depressing.