Mischief Island

by Robert Lance

  “You’re joking, right?” said the duty officer.

  “I am not joking.”

  “Who is the person authorized on your COMSEC list?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  The duty officer’s voice was gruff and barely restrained. “I will get back to you later. What’s your name?”

  “I can’t tell you that either.”

  Derek Fremd’s phone rang, and he listened intently to the message from the duty officer. He said, “Stay on the line.” He faced the president. “Sir, it is my fault we can’t get a link into Palawan. I didn’t list you on the access list because of compartmental separation. You need to have plausible deniability if something goes wrong.”

  “That be damned. If something goes wrong, I’ll get blamed anyway. Put me on the list…now.” The president frowned and rubbed his chin. “Those fabulous men are undertaking a historical endeavor, and their Commander In Chief is not going to hide behind the curtain.”

  Fremd said, “I’ll get a message out to Palawan immediately.”

  “Good. Tell your people we’ll try again in thirty minutes.

  The door to the Oval Office cracked open, and the White House Chief of Staff poked his head in and said, “Mr. President, the president of China is on the phone for you.”

  “Hold up Derek. I need the two of you to witness this conversation. It should be good news, but don’t count on it.” He smirked and grumbled to himself, then hit the speaker button. “I hope you’re having a pleasant day, Mr. president. You’re calling me in the middle of the night, so I assume you’re not having a pleasant day. How can I help you?”

  The voice exploded. “We have discovered your Third fleet has crossed the Nine Dash Line into China’s home waters. You have been warned, and now you are making a dangerous mistake.”

  “I thought you would have reasoned by now that the world has award sovereignty in keeping with UN Resolution 605. My fleet is in international waters. In fact, we’re hosting Russia’s Eastern fleet in joint training exercises. What’s the harm in that?”

  “Under no circumstances will China’s government tolerate our waters being occupied by foreign powers.”

  The president said, “I apologize for not sending an invitation to join us, but under the circumstances I’m not asking for permission. Our joint fleets are on a peaceful exercise, and any hostile act will be met with our use of force.”

  “This is my last warning. We have the power to destroy your fleet and will do so if your provocation isn’t stopped.”

  “So…it’s not just a rumor. It sounds like an admission that you have nuclear missiles in the Spratly Islands. You have an opportunity to remove them before we get there.”

  “China does not have nuclear weapons in the Spratly Islands.”

  “Then what’s the problem of our fleet transiting the South China Sea? We should be talking about trade deals, not fake remote islands. Don’t you agree?”

  “This is my final word. If your fleet moves into the Spratly Islands, China will consider it an act of war and defend them with every resource we have.”

  “Now you’re sounding like a hysterical old woman.”

  The line went dead, and the president blinked. He leaned back and struck a determined pose. “Where does that leave us Derek?”

  Fremd said, “He just told us where his red line is. It’s their Dash Nine Line and our third fleet is sitting on it.”

  The president nodded. “We’ll move the fleet on Commander Jones’ command.” The president stood and looked at the two men expectantly. When they didn’t react, he said, “We’re taking this downstairs to the situation room. I’m not missing a moment of it. This is going to be a damned good movie, don’t you think?”

  Both men gawked. The president chuckled. “We’re not taking the day off, believe me. What’s the chance of getting popcorn delivered?”

  Heather wore her hair up and drawn back to cascade over her neck line. She dressed casual, wearing a breezy blouse, practical for the climate, but revealing nonetheless. When she appeared on the president’s overhead monitor he did a double take. “Who the hell is that? Did we get the wrong link? What is this? Some beauty pageant?”

  Derek was mildly amused, and said. “That sir, is Lieutenant Commander Heather Cummins. She’s our best intelligence operative in the Pacific.”

  The president was astonished. He said, “I didn’t know we had women out there. What did I tell you about women? They’re smart and intelligent. Did I not say that?” he pressed his talk button and said. “Miss, can I please talk to Commander Jones?”

  She smiled pleasantly enough. There was a slight twitch to her lips as she began speaking. “My name is Lieutenant Commander Cummins, and I’ll be directing the mission from the ops center here on Palawan. Commander Jones insisted on commanding the mission aboard Ghost One. He sees the necessity to be on site.”

  Derek Fremd spoke. “Can you link to Ghost One? The president wishes to speak with him.”

  “We are at that critical phase where both ships are submerged. Our comm will be down while they breach the sonar ring around the island. It may take awhile, and I’m not sure it would be a good idea to distract Alamo. I know how he gets when he’s distracted.”

  Director Bolin said, “I think the lady just told the president to shut up.”

  The president threw both hands in the air. “It’s okay, I’m fine with it. I wish someone would’ve told me to shut up when I was campaigning.” The president smiled and pointed his finger at Heather’s image. “I like that broad. She’s got balls.”

  Nothing was going on, and several minutes passed. The president seemed bored, then bothered. He pushed his talk button. “Lieutenant Commander Cummins, your title and name is cumbersome. Do you mind if I call you Heather?”

  She smiled and shrugged. “I don’t mind at all? Heather, LT, it’s what everyone out here calls me. My boyfriend calls me Mata Hari.” She knew she had misspoken, and her hand went to cover her mouth.

  “You have a boyfriend…out there?”

  She recovered quickly, and said. “I have a lot of boyfriends out here. I pray for everyone one of them.”

  “Good for you. Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Sir?”

  “Did you vote for me?”

  She chuckled. “You damned right I did.”

  He turned to the others and said, “I really like this gal. Really like her a lot. Women love me, don’t they? I get along with women very very well.”

  Heather’s head turned from time to time as if she was fielding questions. The president couldn’t help himself. “Who’s there with you, Heather?”

  “Me and six wonderful intel techs.”

  “Ask how many voted for me? Introduce me to the ones who did.”

  Heather thought it was hilarious, and she pushed her talk button so the president could hear what was being said in the background. “You’ve got a fan club here Mr. President. Melinda Carson wants to meet you. She has a big crush on you.”

  The president killed time talking to the Palawan intel DET, when Heather pushed Hartman out of her seat, and quickly sat in front of the monitor. “Sorry to interrupt, but both boats are through the barrier. Move the fleet and let’s see what happens next. My bet is we’ll find our nukes in the next few hours.”

  The president said, “I’ll issue the order now. Good luck Heather.” He turned to the others and asked, how long before our battle group is in combat range?”

  “Three hours and twenty minutes, give or take,” said Fremd.

  “Hold down the fort here, and call if something develops. I need to go upstairs and act chummy with my friends on the Hill. Never met such a dull bunch of bastards.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Both Ghost ships had gone to snorkel level where they could launch their communication buoys. They had clear signals from their Kitty Hawk drones orbiting over Mischief Island. Ghost Two deployed to its intercept position, and Ghost One continued
to stand two miles off shore. It was a waiting game, and it was China’s move.

  The men in the bay were like a stack of paratroopers waiting to jump out of a DC-3. Some seemed anxious, and others pretended boredom. All were suited and webbed, sweating in the stuffy tube. To save valuable battery life, the only light was from the glass cockpit area, lending gloominess to the atmosphere.

  The first signs of activity came too early. Six fast boats were leaving their stations outside the sonar perimeter. Beetle called it at the same time that Heather saw the same thing. “Six fast boats converging, tracking directly toward the island. Something has them disturbed.

  Heather said, “It’s too damned soon.” She did calculations, and they weren’t good. Spinner One, my calculations have you three hours and ten minutes to combat strike position. Do you agree?”

  Spinner One was the name of Admiral Sinclair’s dog and his personal call sign. He said, “Alamo Two, we’ll go to attack speed, cut some time off, twenty minutes tops.”

  “Not enough Spinner One. Can you get an air refueling orbit going to extend your strike range?”

  “It’s not in the op plan, Alamo Two.”

  “Fuck the op plan. Do a work-up and get back to me. How many predator drones do you have?”

  “Four MQ-9’s.”

  “Arm them up for light fasts movers, and send them this way. Make sure you link to my command and control.”

  “Alamo Two, I can take that order from Alamo One.”

  “Alamo One has been decommissioned. I’m now in command. Holy shit. Mischief Island just went Hollywood. Lights on everywhere. They just opened the barn doors.”

  The president had a mouth full of popcorn and spit it out. “What did she just say?”

  Derek said, “Alamo is either dead, injured, or incapacitated.”

  “Did they sink the Ghost command vessel?”

  “Not likely. Something is wrong. It’s not too late to abort the mission.”

  Derek hit his talk button, “Alamo Two, we need an explanation.”

  “Alamo One went rogue, and you know that. Details will be in the after action report.”

  Bolin said, “I don’t like this. This woman has deceived us. Something happened out there. We are leaderless out there.”

  The president jumped to his feet and raged. “I think she just told me something you didn’t want me to know. You deceived me, you worm gutted bastards. I know exactly what she’s talking about.” He hit his talk button. “Heather, my advisors want to abort the mission. What I need from you without hesitation is whether you feel competent to execute the plan.”

  “Yes sir, I wrote the Alamo plan, and the task force out here amended it. The necessity of national security prevented me from coming forward. This mission would have been scrapped. I have twenty-eight SEALs who agree with me. You can put me in front of a firing squad, but we will steal those nukes. Count on it.”

  The president said, “I like that. I really like that.”

  Derek said, “She’s a mere Lieutenant, recently promoted, with no combat command experience. This could turn into a disaster in a hurry.”

  “It’s already a disaster. Where have you been? Are you not listening?” In anger he punched his talk button. “All stations, Transfer of command to Alamo Two…is a Presidential Order.”

  “Mr. President? Are you serious?’ asked director Bolin.

  “Eat your pop corn, Jim. This is about to become exciting.”

  The Chinese were overly proactive. They began their deployment much earlier than anyone expected. Heather was shouting. “Ghosts, the fast boats have converged on the cradle reefs and stopped. Two are pinging sonar. Get masked in the reefs…now!”

  Beetle yelled back. “Getting sonar pings, our worst fuckin’ enemy. We’ve got to go top side. Our radar signature is lower than our sonar footprint.”

  Ted said, “Ghost Two, go to patrol depth but keep your weapons bay closed. Arm your missiles.”

  Heather said, “We’ve GPS marked the area and sent it to fleet. We’ve found the nukes within a few meters. Stay fluid. We may have to change the game.”

  Five minutes passed. Heather ran a commentary “Ghosts, it’s on. The barges are loaded, one mobile launcher each. The container ship is steaming up, and the LSD is getting underway. Two tugs moving at the lip of the lagoon. Ghost one, assess and advise.”

  “On script, Alamo Two. This is exactly what we expected.”

  “We’ve got confirmation with a relative degree of accuracy. Sink the tugs, and let Fleet deal with it.”

  “You’re wrong. We haven’t seen a nuclear warhead. Stay on task Alamo Two. Stay on task.”

  The opening was as predicted. The Chinese were collapsing their perimeter, bringing a highly fortified defensive ring around the cradle reefs. The container ship was nothing more than an antiaircraft missile defense platform. It was simply a matter of molting their exterior disguise.

  The LSD was a troop transport carrying Chinese Marines armed with shoulder fired, short range missiles, with highly effective fire and forget ordinance at surface vessels and aircraft. The LSD was the fire control center of the nuclear armed missiles. With one Dong Feng Missile erect and ready to fire, the game was over.

  The Chinese barges trailed out, one behind the other. They were flanked by four bull patrol boats. The first barge found its cradle and stopped. A swarm of Chinese were on deck. The crane began moving. Chinese divers went into the water.

  Heather’s heart quickened. The pain of command surrounded her. The face of everyman dashed in front of her and ended with Ted’s charismatic smile. Her words hurt like wounds.

  “Ghost One and Two deploy to the assault line and assemble.”

  Beetle’s voice came over the network. “Something strange is going on. Barge one hoisted an object out of the water. It looks like they’re setting it aside. I’ll zoom in for a closer look.”

  Ted asked, “What’s the ETA of our air support?”

  Heather said, “Four predator drones inbound. ETA forty-two minutes.”

  “That’s too long. We might have to engage the tugs from here,” said Ted.

  Domino said, “The LSD is stationery, 1800 meters, bearing 346 degrees, lots of activity. Oops! Her radar just lit up. Lots of shit going on over there. The clam shell doors are opening and a fast boat is docking at her stern. Looks like we’ve found the mother ship.”

  Beetle said, “Second object coming out of the water on barge one. It looks like a locker to me.”

  Heather said, “Oh, my God…we just found the other four missiles. They intend to use the barges for a second launch.” It seemed to her that everything was happening all at once. In fact, it was. The mother ship was loading troops into fast boats. The container ship was parked, and that crew was removing its camouflage and stacking fake panels on its deck. All four barges were parked, and the workers on board were lifting lockers from the water. She looked at her display and saw the tugs slowly catching up.

  She waited with bated breath to get a glimpse of the missiles in the lockers. If they didn’t have nuclear warheads, she would have to recall the raiders waiting to board the barges. The United States could not risk a war over conventional weapons. Deep within her, that was her hope.

  Minutes passed swiftly as she intently watched the Chinese launch crew unbolt the lid. The crane began lifting the contents from the locker. Heather gasped. After all the years in planning, Alamo Jones had been proven correct. The Chinese had been island building for thirty years with a singular goal in mind…to deploy a nuclear force that allowed China ownership of the South China Sea.

  She sighed heavily and said, “Alamo Two confirms a nuclear missile is being erected on barge one. Ghost One and Two…you are cleared to put divers in the water.”

  The Taizhou barge had a crew compliment of twenty-five crewmen. The deck was becoming crowded with launch crews and soldiers boarding from the fast boats. Fully loaded, the barge had a free board of nine feet and easily the fastes
t way to board the barge. The bridge tower at the stern was four decks high, and the control deck was at the very top. There were two ways to access the upper deck There was an exterior set of steps at the fantail and an interior passage.

  Ted was in the water with Domino in tow, both laden with ditty bags. Six more SEALs flipped behind. They had a four hundred meter submerged swim to the stern of barge one. There was no time to catch a second wind as they surfaced, directly under the fantail. The barge work lights were on, and guards were posted strategically along the length of the barge main deck.

  The SEALs had suction climbers designed for scaling hulls. Four made quick work of boarding the stern of the barge, while three drifted aft to cover their teammates. Fifteen seconds later, a black glove waved from the fantail and disappeared. Ted and the remaining Seals flipped back to the ship and began their climb.

  Ted hesitated, and whispered to Domino to stay put. He checked to make sure her locator was on. “I’ll send a rope to you when it’s over.”

  She nodded and whispered back. “I’m excited and scared shitless at the same time. Don’t forget me.”

  Ted and his fellow SEALs were over the rail in seconds. Ted paused and saw blood everywhere. Three dead Chinamen had their throats slit. He noticed their hardware. He spoke softly. “Heads up, Chinese have PF-98 antiship weapons on the fantails.” He looked up and saw that the lead element of his SEAL team had climbed the stairs and were perched to attack the control deck. Ted glimpsed at his two companions and nodded toward the PF-98 weapon. “Bring it, it might come in handy.”

  Ted and his men scurried to the front of the bridge tower, found the entrance, and ran through the door. “We’re in. Go.”

  Gunfire erupted, glass shattered, death screams roared. In a matter of seconds it was over. “Control Bridge secured.”

  The Chinese were so surprised they milled around aimlessly, looking curious rather than menacing. Ted said, “Torrentino, take Smiley and sweep the decks. Bart, what’s moving on the work deck?”