by Dale Brown
will report immediately to Admiral Henry Danforth at STRAT-
COM to stand up CTF Three."'
"Yes, sir," Samson responded. He wasn't stunned at the
news that STRATCOM was standing up, or forming, the
CTFs, considering all that had just happened in the Formosa
Strait-he was stunned at being chosen to conimand one of
them, after the day's debacle.
STRATCOM, or U. Strategic Command, was a combi-
nation of the old Air Force Strategic Air Command, the Navy's
FATAL TERRAIN 217
Fleet Ballistic Missile Submarine Force, and the Air Force-
Navy Joint Strategic Target Planning Staff. Based at Offutt Air
Force Base near Omaha, Nebraska, the command of -STRAT-
COM changed periodically between Air Force generals and
Navy admirals; now, it so happened (not so coincidentally,
with a Navy admiral taking charge of the Joint Chiefs of Staff)
the organization was commanded by a Navy four-star admiral,
Henry Danforth. USSTRATCOM had an unusual makeup. In
peacetime, STRATCOM played "war games" and drew up
contingency plans for major conflicts with other nations-con-
flicts usually involving nuclear weapons. It had no aircraft, no
ships, no weapons, no troops other than its small group of
planners, and no bases.
But in times of military crisis or war, STRATCOM trans-
formed into the world's most powerful fighting force, STRAT-
COM'could quickly "gain" all the aircraft, submarines, bases,
and soldiers it required from the various U. armed services
to fight a full spectrum of conflicts, from show of force and
nuclear deterrence alert to a full-blown intercontinental ther-
monuclear war. STRATCOM geared up its warfighting capa-
bilities in stages by forming Combined Task Forces, or CTFs.
representing the three legs of the United States' nuclear triad
submarine-launched ballistic missiles, land-based interconti-
nental missiles, and long-range land-based bombers, plus their
major support services. STRATCOM would "gain" land-
based intercontinental ballistic missile forces from Air Force
Space Command, sea-launch ballistic missile forces from the
Navy's COMSUBFLT, bombers from Air Force Air Combat
Command, and aerial refueling tanker planes from Air Force
Air Mobility Command. Samson, as commander of all the Air
Force's intercontinental heavy bombers and the highest-
ranking expert on long-range bombers, was being given com-
mand of CTF Three, the strategic nuclear bomber leg of the
triad.
"Admiral Allen, you will retain direct command of the EB-
52 bombers on Guam," Balboa went on. "They've caused
enough trouble, but the National Command Authority still
wants them over the Strait for now. I'm going to snatch Ken
Wayne for CTF One." C_TF One was the task force in charge
of the submarine-launched intercontinental ballistic missiles;
Vice Admiral Kenneth E. Wayne was COMBALSUBFLT, the
man in charge of the Navy's ballistic missile submarine fleet.
218 DALE BROWN
"Aye aye, sir," Allen responded.
"Is S@RATCOM gaining any weapon systems, sir?" Sam-
son asked.
"None have been requested," Balboa replied. "The Presi-
dent wants the CTFs together just in case the shit hits the fan.
But I think he's overreacting-I think Martindale got a little
scared with those nukes going off. Taking an unexpected no-
shit, this-is-not-a-drill ride in the E-4 NEACP 'Doomsday
Plane' probably put the fear of God into him too." Samson
saw Allen chuckle, and he felt like hitting him in the mouth.
There was nothing funny about it-there was plenty of reason
for the President of the United States to be scared when some-
thing as horrifying as a nuclear explosion occured.
"But nothing will happen," Balboa went on confidently.
"It'll be a good exercise for STRATCOM, and then we'll all
go home."
"IN GENERAL, IN BATTLE ONE
GAINS VICTORY THROUGH THE
UNORTHODOX.... ONE WHO
EXCELS AT SENDING FORTH
THE UNORTHODOX IS AS
INEXHAUSTIBLE AS HEAVEN,
AS UNLIMITED AS THE YANGTZE
AND YELLOW RIVERS . .
-Sun-Tzu,
The Art of War
IN THE FORMOSA STRAIT, FIVE KILOMETERS
SOUTH OF HONG KONG
THURSDAY, 19 JUNE 1997, 0811 HOURS LOCAL
(WEDNESDAY, 18 JUNE, 1911 HOURS ET)
"Contact!" the undersea sensor operator reported. "Slow screws,
cavitating, bearing ... bearing zero-eight-zero, range ... range
eight thousand meters and closing, speed eight knots, depth
unknown."
The combat action officer aboard the Chinese aircraft carrier
Mao Zedong nodded, then passed along the information to the
bridge. The commanding officer of the Mao, Admiral Yi Kyu-
pin, picked up the intercom phone himself. "Combat, bridge.
Identification?"
"Sea Dragon-class submarine, sir," the combat action of-
ficer responded. "It is the same one that has been shadowing
us since we entered the area."
"You are positive of the identificationT
"Yes, sir," the combat officer replied. "We are positive.
219
220 DALE BROWN
We can even identify the exact vessel-it is number 795, the
Hai Hu. This rebel vessel has a distinctive rudder flutter, and
the Holec alternators have a distinctive waveform pattern as
wefl. Its identification was confirmed by ASW aircraft before
we arrived at Hong Kong, and we have maintained steady
contact on it since. Identification confirmed."
Admiral Yi Kyu-pin swiveled in his seat and noted the sub's
position on the large glass wall chart in front of him. The
Chinese carrier was riding at anchor just five kilometers south
of Hong Kong; that put the Taiwanese sub well inside Hong
Kong territorial waters, which, as far as Yi was concerned,
were Communist Chinese waters, and always had been. Since
the attack on Quemoy less than two weeks before, Taiwanese
subs had been brazenly approaching Chinese warships, trying
to sneak as closely as they could without being detected. They
were not very good at it. In trying to arrest a rapid closure
rate, the Taiwanese sub captain had actually reversed the pitch
on his propellers, causing cavitation-air bubbles trapped in
the prop wash and sliced apart, causing extreme undersea noise
that could be heard for many kilometers (however, if the Tai-
wanese sub had not cavitated its screw, the Chinese destroyer's
sonar operators probably would not have detected the sub until
it moved much closer).
It was all part of the game-except today, the game was
about to change. "Very good," Admiral Yi said. "Maintain
passive contact and report when it closes within five thousand
meters or opens any outer doors."
I "Yes, sir. I estimate it will close to within five thousand
meters in twenty-three minutes on its present course and
speed."
"Very well." The commander of the Mao hung up the
&
nbsp; phone, then rose and exited the bridge without issuing any
other orders. He made his way quickly to the communications
center, dismissed all but the senior officer on duty, sent a single
coded message, then made his way back up on deck.
The early-moming air was cold, but Admiral Yi could detect
the first scents of summertime warmth on the sea. The air was
fresh and clean, not like the putrid air surrounding the port
city of Guangzhou, the large industrial city north of Hong
Kong. Life on the sea could be exciting, but all but a few of
his years in the brown- or green-water People's Liberation
Army Navy had been spent within helicopter range of shore,
FATAL TERRAIN 221
and most Of those had been spent in the thickly polluted inland
waterways leading to China's naval ports.
The admiral walked to the port rail and looked forward,
sorry to be missing the fresh air blowing in from the east but
wanting to take a look at his charge. He saw its curving "ski
jump" bow and the open doors to the twelve missile launch
tubes embedded in the flight deck just aft of the ski jump-
and he felt sick to his stomach.
Mao, its four escort destroyers, and several smaller escort,
support, and resupply vessels had returned to Victoria, Hong
Kong, to participate in Reunification Day celebrations leading
up to July 1, less than two weeks away, when Hong Kong
would officially become part of the People's Republic of China
once again after one hundred years as a British leasee. The
carrier's superstructure and gunwales were covered with fes-
tive flags and bunting, and every night they staged brilliant
fireworks demonstrations from the carrier's aft deck. Almost
all of the carrier's combat crews and half of the ship's com-
plement had been taken off, replaced by nearly a thousand
civilians from all over the world, anxious to see what it was
like to live aboard an aircraft carrier-especially one that had
just seen combat. Instead of performing anti-submarine
sweeps, the Mao's helicopters were being used to shuttle ci-
vilians from Hong Kong out to the carrier for rides and tours
on the huge warship.
The Chinese government, of course, denied that it had done
anything wrong at all during the skirmish near Quemoy, and
Admiral Yi had sworn to hundreds of reporters and govern-
ment officials that he did not launch any attacks against the
outlaw rebel Nationalists except to defend his ship and others
in his group-the Nationalists and the Americans were to
blame. The Taiwanese ffigates had attacked the peaceful Chi-
nese group of ships in international waters without warning. It
was the rebel frigates and the American B-52 bomber that had
launched the nuclear missiles, after unsuccessfully attacking
the Chinese ships with conventional weapons. One missile had
been destroyed by Chinese antiaircraft fire;' the other missile,
fired by the American stealth bomber toward the Chinese port
City of Xiamen, near Quemoy Island, had detonated early. in
the interest of peace, President Jiang Zernin had announced,
China would move the peaceful group of ships back south to
Hong Kong.
222 DALE BROWN
The sudden, swift, ignominious withdrawal from the Que-
moy Island attack plan really hurt Yi's pride. He felt as if his
entire crew, his entire battle group, felt he had betrayed and
abandoned them. True, the American stealth bomber had taken
a swift, heavy toll on the battle group, but the attack plan itself
was still alive, and chances for success had been good. But no
more.
Now the carrier Mao Zedong, China's greatest warship, was
little more than a pony for children to ride-and the rebels on
the island of Formosa were thumbing their noses and baring
their asses toward mainland China. The thought really upset
Yi and his fellow commanders. The world believed the Re-
public of China was the bright and promising young star, and
that the People's Republic of China was the cruel governess
seeking to stunt the younger nation's growth and aspirations.
Everyone believed unification would eventually happen, but
the world now mandated that it be subject to Taiwan's time-
table, not the People's Republic of China's. China would have
to disavow communism and somehow "catch up" to Taiwan's
fast-growing capitalist economy before unification could be-
come a reality.
This could not, would never, be tolerated. Lee Teng-hui and
his bastard government on Taiwan had to come back into the
Communist fold. It was ludicrous, ridiculous, to ask over a
billion Chinese Communists to change their form of govern-
ment over the desires of twenty-one million money-grubbing
Taiwanese capitalist rebels. They would be surrendering their
way of life simply because of money, and no true friend of the
workers of the world would ever tolerate that.
The captain's walkie-talkie beeped, and he raised it to his
lips. "Speak."
"Message from headquarters," the watch officer on the
bridge reported.
"Read it."
"Message reads, 'Starbfight.' End of message."
"Very well,' - ' Yi said. "Out."
The walkie-talkie beeped again: "Target one has moved
within specified range, Sir," the combat action officer reported,
referring of course to the Taiwanese submarine trying to sneak
in close to the Mao Zedong.
"Very well," the captain replied. "Continue to monitor."
He picked up the binoculars on the leather strap slung around
FATAL TERRAIN 223
his neck and scanned the horizon to the south. He saw nothing
but a few large fishing vessels far out on the horizon, their net
booms extended, hauling huge nets out of the South China
Sea. He often wondered about the hard but peaceful lives those
men experienced, and wondered if destiny would ever allow
him the luxury of choosing such a life for himself and his
family. Yi loved the sea and had always wanted to be near it,
part of it, but it seemed as if his desires and dreams had never
been a factor in what sort of life he led.
If Yi had continued to watch, he would have seen the crew
of the two fishing boats use their fishing net tackle to hoist
four huge steel canisters off their decks and into the sea; sec-
onds later, both boats were departing the area in considerable
haste. The four canisters they had tossed overboard were
American-made surplus Mk 60 CAPTORS (enCAPsulated
TORpedoes), which were Mk 46 acoustic-homing torpedoes
enclosed in a launch tube. The Mk 60s were remotely activated
ten minutes after being dropped overboard. The torpedoes, So-
nars locked onto the largest vessel in its sensor field-the car-
fier Mao Zedong, less than ten miles away-and then
alltomatically launched themselves at the target.
The captain saw the need to force the Taiwanese National-
ists to submit torightful Chinese government rule; he under-
stood
the need first to break down this cult Of protectionism
that had formed around Taiwan since they had claimed inde-
pendence, that Taiwan was in the right and should be permitted
to ignore' and contradict Chinese authority simply because it
was smaller or richer or more Western-like. But he would
never understand all of it, all the politics and ideologies in-
volved, all the various dynamics in the government and in the
military that seemed to threaten to tear apart the very fabric
of Chinese life.
The tours had just started. Today was "Our Children, Our
'Future Day" on the carrier Mao. The decks were crawling
with hundreds of children of important Chinese Communist
Party officials, foreign businessmen and politicians, and spe-
cial invited guests. The kids could sit inside a Sukhoi-33
fighter that had been set up on one of the one-hundred-meter
launch points, crawl around the anti-submarine helicopters,
pretend they were launching off the deck or shooting antiair-
craft missiles and guns, play with signal lights, and generally
invade almost every square centimeter of the huge vessel. A
224 DALE BROWN
large group of children had walked up the steep twelve-degree
ski-jump incline and were peering nervously over the edge as
a crewman explained how fighters launched from the carrier.
A few brave boys even stepped right up to the rounded lip of
the ski jump and looked down over sixty meters to the sea
below.
The image made Yi smile. He was proud of those brave
children, he thought-he didn't know them, did not know their
families, but he was proud of how brave they were. Too
bad ...
Yi's walkie-talkie beeped several times-the ship-wide
alerting system. "All hands, all hands, this is the bridge, stand
by for emergency action stations. Captain to the bridge."
The captain keyed the mike on the walkie-talkie: "Captain
here. Report.
"High-speed screws detected by passive sonar, Sir," the of-
ficer of the deck responded excitedly. "Torpedoes in the water,
bearing one-niner-five, range four thousand two hundred me-
ters and closing. Additional torpedoes detected at bearing
