B004V9FYIY EBOK

by Unknown

  “I believe this is something you should have in your notes,” he said with a broad smile.

  Greg took the papers and looked at them, expecting they had been retrieved by mistake, but something was wrong. The papers were of an inferior grade to those the Americans used. In addition, he saw something that appeared to be colored with some drawings on it. He opened the packet and stared at what he saw. It was a small map of Korea with all the roads and five places marked along the DMZ. On another sheet was an explanation in perfect English outlining the location of five tunnels that had been constructed by the North. He looked questioningly up at the other man.

  “It is hoped that this will demonstrate the close ties my nation has with your nation and its desire to end this conflict amicably,” the Chinese delegate said calmly.

  “I am not used to receiving this kind of information,” Greg said. “I am not sure of what to do.”

  “We understand, Mister Sussman. We know you are an honored negotiator with no ties with your intelligence gathering brethren. It was decided to pass this information along through less known channels to demonstrate the, shall we say, delicate nature of our relationships in the area. I offer myself as a conduit so that you may pass along additional information and requests from your government. However, please let your superiors know that once the current conflict ends, this cooperation will also be at an end,” he said pleasantly. “You see, I am a negotiator much as you are and this is a different task for me as well. Let us hope this will not mean a change in either of our careers.”

  Greg nodded. It was clear this conduit was only a temporary one. “I shall pass this along. Will I see you at further negotiations?” he asked.

  The man nodded. “I am a regular trade negotiator and will most likely be seeing you often enough,” he said. “We are often asked to perform special duties when the situation requires.”

  “Then I thank you, sir, and hope to see you at our next meeting,” Greg said extending his hand. It was shaken warmly and the two men exited through different doors. Greg kept the packet in his briefcase until reaching the embassy where he contacted the station agent, as he was required to do with any contact between himself and other Chinese officials. Little did he know the chain of events he would unleash.

  USS Iowa

  “Drop 100, fire for effect,” came the voice over the radio. In main battery plot the offset was dialed into the fire control computer and the barrels of all nine guns rose at once. The technician grabbed the triggers, squeezing them three times. On the third squeeze he also squeezed the main firing key. All nine 16-inch guns belched out their deadly cargo towards the spots designated on the beach.

  “Shoot, over”

  “Roger out.”

  One minute later all nine rounds hit within a 100 yard radius of the target – an old school bus. Two rounds actually struck the bus itself, sending it shrieking into the air to come back to rest on the ground in a clutter of mangled steel.

  “Cease fire, target destroyed, over.”

  “Roger out.”

  The exercises had taken all day, but in nearly every case, the Iowa’s guns proved their accuracy and the proficiency of her crew. They had, in that brief time, aced each gunfire exercise. In one case, a moving radio-controlled bus had simulated a moving ship. The Iowa’s guns flipped it high into the air on the fourth single round from a range of 11 miles. Captain Hammond had been very pleased. The older crewmen had fallen right back into the ship’s routine as if it were yesterday. The younger guys simply followed their lead. The captain was reading a copy of an older publication that the XO had reinstituted called “Battleship Standards” when a messenger came up from radio and handed over a message just received. Hammond read it carefully as the Weapons Officer debriefed the exercises.

  “Ninety-eight percent on the last one Captain. I believe we are in all respects ready for anything they throw at us. I still wish we could go through some sort of refresher training, but I have a feeling this is all we’re going to get,” the Weapons Officer said.

  Hammond handed over the message. “Looks like you are right on all counts Weps,” he said while reaching for the bitch box in front of him. He pressed the switch for engineering main control. “This is the Captain, is Cheng down there?”

  “Chief Engineer here, Captain,” said Commander Kimberlain.

  “Cheng, we are being ordered to rendezvous with a supply ship tomorrow morning. It will mean a high speed run tonight. No more than 25 knots. Are you ready for it?”

  “Aye, sir. We will be able to make that without lighting off the additional boilers. Just let us have a little heads up to be ready.”

  “Good. I’ll be working it out with the Gator and will let you know when,” the Captain said.

  The Weapons Officer handed back the message. “No rest for the weary,” he said.

  “I guess not,” the Captain said as he made his way to the Navigator’s station at the rear of the bridge. The Chief Quartermaster was there working on the plot. The Captain gave him the coordinates for the rendezvous. The Chief plotted the point and measured the distance.

  “If we leave now, we can be at the rendezvous at first light. If they are there early, we can get a jump on it,” I would recommend 290 at 23 knots. If we go 25, we will arrive at about 0500,” the Chief said.

  “Concur. Let’s plan on leaving station in about half an hour then.”

  “Aye, sir,” said the Chief who picked up the telephone to call the Navigator.

  The captain went back to his seat and hit the bitch box again. “Engineering, this is the Captain. We will be going to 25 knots in about 30 minutes.”

  After receiving his reply the Captain called over the OOD. “We will need to come to 290 and increase speed to 25 knots at 1930. We will remain at that course and speed until dawn when we rendezvous with USNS Spica. Do you have the copy of my standing orders?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. I have read the standing orders. When can we expect your night orders, sir?”

  “I will always try and get those out before the 8 o’clock reports. Let the others know. If you would, get Ops and XO up here,” he said going back to his seat.

  The OOD made some hasty calls and both men appeared by the Captain’s side. “XO, I doubt any of this crew has had any practice on underway replenishments recently. Let’s get some briefings set up for about 2100. Ops, I want a message prepped for signal light to the Spica at first light telling her how many rounds and how much fuel. We are at radio silence until further notice.” After completing his instructions, the Captain grabbed the microphone for the 1MC.

  “This is the captain speaking. It looks like we will be needed with the fleet even sooner than we realized. We are ordered to rendezvous with a replenishment ship at first light, then proceed from there to join a task force. This means tomorrow morning we will be doing an unrep. Since we haven’t done one of those recently, we will have a briefing at 2100 in the wardroom. I want all officers and chiefs there along with key first class. We have to make sure we do this right without getting someone killed in the process.”

  “Tomorrow morning reveille will be at 0430. I need as many people rested and ready as we can. But more importantly we need to make sure all the equipment for this unrep is in working order. That will include bringing over ammunition to replace what we shot up today. It may come over by wire, by vertrep, or both. Just be ready.”

  “Now I know we are being asked to jump right into operations without much training. You older crewmen will need to carry the ball and bring the others along. The main thing I want to do is make sure we do this all safely. If you see something wrong, stop everything and let’s fix it. I don’t care if this lasts all day, I don’t want to have anyone hurt. The supply ship will just have to be patient.”

  “One more thing. We have been told to expect an admiral and his staff to come aboard tomorrow. Just remember to be good hosts and help if you can. They have their job to do and we have ours. If one of them gives any mem
ber of the crew problems, talk to your division officer and department head. We can take care of it on our end.”

  “Guys, I must say that the gunnery you demonstrated today would be the envy of anyone I have ever known. Superb job and well done to all. You are all going to put new meaning to the word dreadnought. If we get any more word on our future, I’ll let you know,” he said completing his message. Looking around the bridge he could see the men exchanging smiles. They had accomplished a lot and had a great deal of pride in what they had been able to do. Hammond knew pride could make or break a ship.

  The Captain sat back in his chair and sighed. He called down to the Marine sentry and had the mess specialist bring him some dinner. It was going to be a long night.

  Washington D.C.

  “Okay, what does this tell us?” the President asked. The note and the map had been flown directly from China to CIA headquarters and checked for levels of authenticity. But there was really no doubting the information that had been provided. The US had known of only one tunnel through the Zone, provided by Master Sergeant Hufham. The indication for the number two tunnel was exactly where Hufham had said it was. Of more important information, this was one of the smallest tunnels there. This was important. They had to find a way to plug those things for good.

  “We consider this information accurate, Mister President,” said Ben Watson, the National Security Advisor. “It matches what we know and adds a lot more detail. Notice the differentiation between the tunnels in size and capacity. This one can handle aircraft going through it and is wide enough for four lanes. It’s no wonder they have been able to get equipment and supplies through so rapidly.”

  “That’s true,” said the DDI, “and it presents a difficult problem. How can we close it? It’s designed to be a nuclear shelter. We can drop bombs, but they wouldn’t even dent it.”

  “And I am not going to drop a nuke on that mountain. That would be just want they want me to do,” said the President.

  The National Security Advisor thought for a moment. “It carries trucks doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, so?”

  “Then I wonder if we could get something inside?” asked General Black.

  “That many explosives would be a dead giveaway,” said the DDI.

  “Yes, but a small device, maybe about four kilotons, might go unnoticed. A pipe or box falling off a truck on the side of the road. And remember, the North used weapons of mass destruction against us. There might be a way,” said Black.

  The President listened intently. “What would be the collateral damage?”

  “I don’t know sir, but it might be worth checking out.”

  “Okay, but no more than finding some answers for now. I do not want to do anything that will upset our allies or the UN. The alternative is to bomb it every day to keep it unusable. Ben, do this personally. I want all the answers before I even consider such a thing.

  “Yes, Mister President.”

  “Now on to something else, what about how it was sent to us? This business of going through a lesser official and keeping things so quiet; if they really wanted to help, why not start feeding things through to us directly? Are they for us or against us?” the President wondered out loud.

  “It’s more complicated than that,” said the Deputy Director of Intelligence. “You see, if the party over there openly forsakes another communist nation, they lose face and a major pile of credibility. But they are also in a bind economically. In other words, they need our money. By coming to us this way, they can openly support their allies while assuring the United States they are really on our side. It’s a game they play very well,” the DDI said. “Also, by using a very low level official, it gives them some deniability. They can actually accuse the man of being a spy and have it stick. At the same time, they can simply change the messenger and continue operations. It is a well thought out system.

  The President nodded. “Okay, I can accept that. Now how will it affect our operations?”

  General Black spoke up. “This could actually give us a boost. Now that we know where everything is going through, we can target the roads they use. If we can get some of the remaining operational smart weapons over there, and decide what to do about the big one, we could close the operations for good. The Chinese might even be willing to help. The DMZ is still heavily mined. From the few overflights the Japanese have been able to do for us, we have seen no vehicles coming across that way. So if we can shut these before we begin our big campaign, it should seriously degrade their capabilities,” he said. “But in another area, this meeting could be made into a distinct advantage. All we need to do is send a little message,” he said. After another thirty minutes of talking, the plans were set.

  M/V Morning Chorus

  General Claire Richardson ended her briefing and walked up to her stateroom aboard the M/V Morning Chorus. It was late and she had not slept much the last few nights. Finally just a few days ago the last of the vehicles and troops had been brought aboard the vessels and they got underway. The Navy was miffed that she hadn’t chosen one of the LPDs or other naval vessels to be her headquarters, but Richardson couldn’t have cared less. In all, the Navy was supplying only a third of the transport needed to get her people to the beach, so she could pick and choose as she wished. After all, the new Deputy Commander of 1st Marine Division should be able to pick and choose. Her position as Deputy Commander was one she had requested. It was a reward for all she had done in planning these landings. But what meant more was that the deputy went in with the ground forces on the initial landings. She would lead troops in battle – and that had been her dream for a long time.

  To make the Morning Chorus more usable, the Marines brought in a portable command center with a communications trailer. Even now it was intercepting messages and keeping the staff up to date on what was going on. The radios would actually be used only once the soldiers were on the beach. Radio silence was the key to everything. Knowing the ship was limited in their cooking capabilities, the Marines even brought in their own mess gear and supplies. Right now the ship was home to the 1st Marine Division; one of the oldest and most distinguished commands in the world. Along with them were a division of tanks, a variety of support equipment, tanker trucks with fuel, loaded supply trucks and tons of equipment staged in the twelve huge open decks on the ship. Normally the ship could carry over 6,000 automobiles, but this load was a little heavier and more volatile. Almost 10,000 Marines were also aboard. She had been amazed at the ability to set up rows upon rows of bunked cots – enough to sleep half that number. The men rotated 12 on and 12 off. The rest of the time there was plenty of space on the open decks and on a separate deck set up just for recreation.

  Sixteen of the big automobile carriers were in the group, carrying the war to Korea. In addition to the 1st Marines, the units included the 2nd Marine Division and the Army’s 1st and 3rd Infantry Divisions and 1st Cavalry Division. The ships also carried all the artillery and helicopters for the assault and enough fuel and ammunition to last three weeks. It had been a monumental task getting it all together, but with a President behind you, things could move fairly rapidly.

  The plan itself turned out to be a simple one. It didn’t need Marines landing on a beach or anything else that might mean many lives lost. What it did count on was a little surprise and a great deal of support when the time came. Both of those aspects were set in place. All they needed to do was show up at the right time.

  Richardson paused at the entrance to her cabin and decided to walk out on the main deck and get some air. She walked down the darkened passageway and came to a large steel door. A curtain was in front of it and she switched off the lights before going out except for some small red ones that gave just enough light to see in the passage without providing a beacon for some enemy submarine. She opened the door and stepped out into the darkness. Clouds were out and only a faint glow of the moon shown through. People were standing around, but you couldn’t see who was there, their rank or their f
eatures. Slowly she made her way to the railings she knew to be at the side of the ship on this level. Her hands touched the rails and she leaned on them and took in the salty sea air.

  After a minute or so someone stumbled into her. “Sorry. It’s a little dark out here,” said a young male voice.

  “Yeah, but it’s nice. Pull up a piece of rail,” Richardson said.

  “Thanks. I couldn’t sleep, so I came up for a few to get a few breaths of air. Even though they have blowers down below it can get pretty thick. You been to sea before?” he asked.

  “A couple of times,” she said. It was very pleasant talking to someone who just treated you like a shipmate instead of a demigod. “I’m like you, would rather be up here. If there weren’t any clouds you would see so many stars it’s hard to believe. It’s really different from being on land.”

  “I was raised out in the cornfields of Nebraska. I know what you mean about the stars. I used to go out in the field after we’d taken the crop in and just lay out looking up at them all. You go camping much?” he asked.

  “Never had much chance,” she said. “But I enjoy it.”

  He had a laugh at that. “I guess being a Marine we have to like it a little,” he said.

  They stood silently for a while listening to the swish of the water alongside the ship. Richardson broke the silence. “Where are you in all this,” she asked.

  “They put me in charge of a of rifle company in Second Bat, A Company,” he said. “My guys are all trained up and raring to go. With all the training we’ve been going through it’s nice to finally be on the way.”

  “Yeah it is,” she said. “I’m on one of the staffs. I thought we’d never get this show on the road sometimes. Your guys anxious?”

  He chuckled. “Screaming to get there and kick a little ass. Most of them ticked off because they lost a car or their music. What about you?”

  “Yes, I’m ready to go. They actually had me working on the Memphis cleanup at first. I saw first hand what they did. It was pretty bad.”