Fatal Terrain

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