by Larry Bond
Dawson, feeling a little lightheaded, answered, “But I feel responsible. Certainly our security people failed to catch a spy. We cleared him, and he’s been working in one of our most highly classified facilities for over three years. Heaven knows what he’s stolen and passed on.” He shivered. “I’m having a little trouble absorbing this. The more I think about it, the worse it gets.”
“Your security people will have to account for themselves, of course. We’re assuming you’ll brief your chief of security as soon as you get back, but only him. Have him coordinate with Colonel Evans, who is in charge of the investigation. Our main concern is finding out who Chung’s contact is and tracking their network,” said Schultz.
“Nobody’s picked up the case yet?” Dawson asked.
Ray shook his head. “No. Evans said he’d text me the instant that happened.”
“And then the hunt will be on,” Schultz observed.
Dawson handed the admiral a stapled sheaf of paper. “Here’s a hard copy of his Lockheed Martin personnel record. I was curious about why you asked for it, but I couldn’t imagine it was for this. Chung’s only worked for us. We got him fresh out of college.”
Dawson paused, then continued. “Or, maybe he got us. He’s had three years to send who knows how much back to China. Just thinking about it makes my head hurt.”
“Well, he’s stopped spying on you to spy on us, so count your blessings.”
“What do we do? What can I do?”
Ray answered. “Evans says we watch and wait. From now on, we’ll be able to read his mail. Once the contact picks up the case, we’ll follow him back and see where he leads us, who else is involved.”
“And please let them not work at Palmdale,” Dawson added prayerfully.
“Which is why Colonel Evans doesn’t want your security people to do anything, at least until we know one way or the other.”
“I understand,” Dawson assured him. “I don’t want to tip these guys off, either.”
The depressed executive left, and Ray and Schultz sat silently for a moment. Ray finally said, “A spy. It doesn’t seem real.”
“This from a guy who’s building a spaceship?” Schultz smiled.
“I can’t tell Biff, or Jenny.”
“I agree. Biff will understand, and I’ll vouch for you with Jenny. We’ll keep any champagne bottles well out of her reach.”
“You heard about that?”
CNN Report
November 22, 2017
The screen showed a map of northern Vietnam and its border with China. Pulsing red arrows moved south through mountainous terrain, converging on the city of Lang Son.
“The Chinese capture of Lang Son does more than just gain them a vital road junction south of the mountains. It means that the U.S. has missed its best chance to slow or stop the invading armies and is apparent proof of the effectiveness of the Chinese ‘anti-GPS’ strategy.”
Arrows appeared, heading south and southeast. “From Lang Son, the Chinese columns can advance on Hanoi, the capital; Haiphong, a major port; or any number of other coastal cites. The country opens up considerably, and it will be difficult for the Vietnamese forces to establish a strong defensive line, especially if U.S. airpower has been weakened.”
The scene shifted to fuzzy color video of jets diving and firing missiles at something off the bottom of the screen. “This is Chinese video of a U.S. attack during the daylight hours.” The image was replaced by a pile of tangled metal. “The same video says this is the remains of a U.S. attack plane shot down during that raid. There was no mention of the pilot. U.S. losses in their air attacks have been light, so far. Observers believe that the American commanders have been cautious, feeling their way carefully as they find out what works and what doesn’t. We asked our CNN consultant, retired air force general Blake ‘Sandman’ Sandus, for his assessment.”
Sandus was standing in front of a wall-sized video screen. Photos of U.S. planes flashed across it, changing every few moments. He wore a conservative blue suit, and the camera zoomed in for a moment on his tie clasp, a miniature F-15.
“This is the first time in decades that the U.S. has not had complete air supremacy. In military terms, this is not a ‘permissive air environment,’ which in plain English means there is a real risk that our aircraft could get shot down.”
The screen split, and the news anchor asked, “And this is because we’ve lost so many GPS satellites?”
Sandus nodded vigorously. “It’s actually a double whammy. The precision of GPS weapons made it easier to neutralize any air defenses and then made sure a high percentage of the ordnance dropped actually hit what we wanted. My friends tell me that wing and squadron commanders are still looking for the right mix of weapons and tactics. Until then, they’re playing it safe.”
The anchor asked, “Isn’t that just being wise?”
Sandus shrugged. “In one sense, yes, but playing it safe won’t win a war. Air warfare used to be about attrition, with the losses we suffered justified by the damage we inflicted on the other side. Nowadays, we can’t afford even moderate losses. We lose airplanes and pilots that are very difficult to replace, the other side may get a hostage, and the administration gets a black mark.”
“Are you saying that there has been political pressure to keep casualties low?”
“All I’m saying is the higher the casualty count, the more heat the president’s going to get about coming in on the side of the Vietnamese. It’s a principled stand, but following one’s principles gets harder and harder as the losses rise. That’s why we haven’t committed any ground forces to help the Vietnamese.”
“General, since the air attacks aren’t as effective as we hoped, should we commit ground troops? Certainly they won’t be affected as badly by the lack of GPS.”
Sandus smiled and shook his head. “Don’t ask me. I was air force, and my opinion on that question isn’t worth much. But you know what they say about ground wars in Asia.”
U.S. Space Force Headquarters
Edwards Air Force Base
Hangar
November 23, 2017
Ray had resisted calling it “Laser Day,” but the admiral had overruled him. “It’s a milestone, Ray. Let everyone share the moment.”
Geoffrey had laid it on as a minor celebration. The cafeteria, still called “The Hangar” despite operating from a newly erected prefabricated building, would offer a special menu, and he’d organized a laser light show on the side of the hangar, accompanied by the “appropriate music.”
But it was an important step, a visible step. At thirteen-ten that afternoon, the actual hangar’s overhead crane had lowered the airborne laser assembly into Defender’s cargo bay. He lost track of the number of steps that had led up to this point: structural modifications to the vehicle’s spaceframe, laying power and fiber-optic cables in the bay—all the while refurbishing the laser’s optics and its combustion chamber. That had been a technical challenge. It would now be exposed to vacuum, and the temperature extremes of space. It had never been designed for that, and in the end they’d had to reinforce the shell and add insulation.
It had taken only a few minutes to lower the laser into position, then mate it to the spaceframe with some very large, but very ordinary-looking, bolts.
Four days ago, he’d watched the one test the laser would get, hurriedly mounted on a steel framework and connected to a portable generator for power. Fuel tanks used for the original ground tests over thirty years ago had been located, tested, connected to the test rig, and filled. They held enough of the chemicals for two shots.
The earliest satellite window after they were ready had been at zero four-thirty. Ray had briefly considered skipping the test in favor of sleep, but it wasn’t in his nature. He had to be there, and had watched as the last of the test instrumentation had been attached.
There was a hundred-yard safety zone in case of a breach in the combustion chamber, and they’d all watched from a slit trench as Amy Sloa
n, head of the laser section, held a silver box with two buttons. She pressed the first, and it lit, meaning laser fuel was free to move from the tanks to the chamber. She pressed the second, and the laser fired.
There was enough moisture and dust in the air that one could see the beam, a pale red spear that flashed and disappeared in a fraction of a second. It was aimed straight up, toward the zenith. Hoots and applause celebrated the sight, but Sloan concentrated on her watch, counting the seconds. The engineers had calculated the optimum interval to test the chamber, and just a few moments after the first shot, she fired it again. A second faint red flash came and went, and Ray found himself exhaling with relief.
The beam would be invisible in space, of course, and even if it were visible, they would all be in the cabin. A remote camera would be trained on the laser in the bay, but mainly to make sure the mechanism that moved and aimed the mirror was operating properly.
He’d listened for a noise, too, maybe a “pop” as air rushed into the space where the beam has passed, but the angry whine of the pumps had masked anything else, real or imagined. He was glad they wouldn’t be able to hear that in the cabin.
* * *
At the “Laser Day” celebration, Ray mingled and watched everyone. Geoffrey’s cooks had prepared a Cajun menu, with many “laser-blackened” items, as well as a very good bouillabaisse. He limited himself to small portions, since he still had a few more pounds to lose before he’d be at what Barnes called “flight weight.”
People were definitely enjoying themselves. He heard laughter and animated conversation, although it often seemed to be technical. He knew many would go right back to work after the laser show, hopefully refreshed.
He spotted Glenn Chung, sitting and chatting with several others, and did his best to look away. He’d seen Chung several other times during the past few days, bound on some task for the IT division. Ray had done his best to ignore Chung, but it was hard, knowing what he was. Was he gathering information right now, some fragment about someone’s progress? It was a common topic, after all, and their common goal.
Ray’s clenched jaw relaxed a bit when he realized that one of the people at the table with Chung was one of Evans’s security team. The thought comforted him, but also made him doubly self-conscious. Then he spotted Geoffrey Lewes near the serving line. He seemed to be looking at the same table Ray had been. Ray tossed his plastic plate and utensils into a trash can and walked slowly over to the morale officer.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?”
Lewes, startled and a little embarrassed, turned to Ray and said, “Tell me the food is good. I need to think about something else.”
“The food really is good, Geoffrey. A party like this is almost as good as a day off.”
“I like it when they’re smiling, Ray. I can’t help build Defender. I can barely check the oil in my car.”
“But you know you’re making a difference.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chung get up from his table with several others and head for the exit. He saw Lewes tracking Chung’s movement as well. Ray felt himself relax a little, since if Chung wasn’t around …
“You know, he’s going to notice if you’re trying this hard to not look at him.”
Coming from behind, Colonel Evans’s voice startled Ray so much he would have jumped, except the colonel’s hand was on his shoulder, steadying him. Evans’s other hand was doing the same for Lewes, who was just as surprised.
Ray took a deep breath. Lewes said, “Sorry.”
“No harm done this time,” Evans said softly, “but next time, just leave. Don’t wait for him to go.”
“Has anyone picked up the item?” Ray asked quietly.
“Not yet,” Evans replied. “It’s all good right now. The longer we can leave him in place, the better for us.”
Lewes nodded silently and headed for the back of the serving line. He had the right idea, Ray realized. Focus on what you could do.
He left the tent, headed for his office. Spy stuff was hard. He’d stick to building spaceships.
18
Break Point
CNN Report
November 23, 2017
“General Blake Sandus has been helping us understand the extraordinary events of this morning when we woke up to find we were in a full-fledged naval war with the People’s Republic of China. Until yesterday, the U.S. had limited itself to air and Tomahawk strikes on Chinese units inside Vietnamese territory. General, is that correct?”
Sandus’s thin frame barely filled a blue polo shirt embroidered with U.S. AIR FORCE and a set of pilot’s wings. His mostly gray hair was still kept short in a pilot’s crew cut. His voice was strong and clear, although he looked tired. The day had started very early.
“Jane, that’s right. Attacking only Chinese troops that had crossed into Vietnam allowed the Jackson administration to correctly claim that they were only defending China’s neighbor from aggression. It also gave the Chinese a way out, which they could have taken if they had suffered too many casualties.”
“Do you think this new escalation is because American airpower wasn’t enough to stop the Chinese? After all, the Chinese have taken Lang Son. Reports put them as much as thirty kilometers south of that city.”
Sandus stepped over to a large flat-screen display of Vietnam. He tapped an icon, and the view zoomed in to show red arrows well south of the Vietnamese city, spreading south toward Hanoi, a hundred kilometers away, and southeast toward the coast. He tapped the latter arrow. “This is what may have given the Joint Chiefs the idea to take the war to sea. This column is driving on Haiphong, a major port. The road net across Vietnam’s northern border is thin and is still vulnerable to interdiction, even if the Chinese spearhead is now in open country. If the Chinese capture a major port, it would let them supply their invasion by sea. It’s the same as the D-day invasion in 1944, when the Allies’ first goal was the French port of Cherbourg.”
“Aren’t naval forces affected by the loss of GPS?”
“Not to the same extent, Jane. Aviators need accurate three-dimensional location data—an aircraft’s altitude demands it—while sailors who operate at sea level only need two. And they’ve had ways of navigating long before satellites appeared. Antiship weapons also have to hit moving targets, so they tend to use active radar homing rather than GPS guidance.”
“And that puts us back on an equal footing with the Chinese?”
“Better than equal, I’d say. We still have an edge over the Chinese navy in several important warfare areas, although they have the advantage in numbers. We are operating in their own backyard, after all.”
“So this new strategy is to block the invasion’s supply lines?”
“Yes. For instance, a group of Chinese amphibious ships with their escorts were attacked off Cam Pha.” He tapped a spot on the Vietnamese coast just south of the border with China. “They may have intended to land near Haiphong and catch the Vietnamese in a pincer, but a U.S. submarine wolf pack appears to have sunk both amphibious ships and some of the escorts.
“But this naval strategy is much more than that, Jane. If the navy had limited itself to just attacking Chinese warships in Vietnamese waters, that would have been the kind of small-step escalation that we tried in Vietnam.” He grinned. “I know all about that. I was there.”
Sandus zoomed the map back out to show the western Pacific and the South China Sea. He pointed to the south. “Instead, here at the exits of the Strait of Malacca, Lombok Strait, and Sunda Strait, U.S. warships are stopping every Chinese merchant ship they can find and sending them north to Vietnam. Other U.S. ships are doing the same in the South China Sea. Since the Vietnamese submarine fleet has already done some damage to China’s shipping, America joining in will virtually shut down the shipping lanes in that area, at least for Chinese merchant ships.”
He shifted the map to show the Chinese coast.
“American subs have taken positions outside several Chinese ports and nav
al bases and have already torn a patch out of the Chinese fleet and their merchant marine.” He checked his watch. “As of ten hundred hours here on the East Coast, we know for certain of five merchants and two major warships that have been sunk, in addition to the ones lost off Cam Pha.” He tapped the map in several places along the Chinese Pacific coast.
“What will the Chinese do to respond?” the news anchor asked.
“Well, they’re screaming bloody murder, of course, and they’ll try to find and sink our ships and subs where they can. But China’s become a world power, which means their economy depends on importing materials from abroad and selling goods overseas. They’ve become vulnerable to a naval blockade, although the buzzword for it these days is ‘containment.’ The advantage of the naval strategy is that we can put pressure on the Chinese without attacking anything on Chinese soil. In fact, as far as I can tell, all the ships that were sunk were outside Chinese territorial waters.”
“But isn’t such a major escalation risky?”
“It’s very risky,” Sandus agreed. “But the president’s committed the U.S. military to ‘stopping Chinese aggression before it goes farther,’ according to his press conference this morning. But aside from the risk to our military forces, other nations have axes to grind with China. It’s a big country, and it has a lot of territorial disputes with its neighbors.”
Sandus pointed to the Himalayas. “While China is busy, what if India decides to score some points along their common border? The Vietnamese would love to take back the Paracel Islands they lost in 1974. It might seem strange for them to make an attack while Chinese troops are coming south en masse, but the Chinese garrison on the island is tiny, and taking them back would embarrass the Chinese and give the folks at home a boost in morale. Think of the Doolittle Raid over Tokyo at the beginning of World War Two in the Pacific.”
“Is there a chance that Taiwan might use this opportunity to declare independence?”
“Well, that is the Big Question.” Sandus scratched his jaw thoughtfully. “I’m just an old fighter jock, and the people who thought about that stuff were way above my pay grade.”
