The Elephant Game

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The Elephant Game Page 26

by Andrew Watts


  “Sir, who’s with us?” asked Lieutenant Herndon.

  The battle watch captain rattled off several ship names, then said, “Flight operations are done for the day at twenty-one hundred, so we can make best speed to Pearl Harbor. The RAS for tomorrow just got canceled, as expected.”

  Plug made a few notes on the new ships that were joining them. He still needed to put some of them on his daily flight schedule email to all destroyers. There was too much to keep track of. He was going to lose his mind before this was all over.

  Next, they walked aft and down towards the carrier’s combat direction center, getting briefed by the duty officer there. It was very similar information to what they had already received during their previous two briefs, although this one included what the carrier’s sensor operators were seeing.

  Finally, they debriefed with the Desron watch standers who were coming off duty. Plug had finished his latte now and threw the empty cup in the trash. They sat down in the black swivel chairs in the Zulu watch space. Two large display screens in the front of the room showed the tactical picture. One side had a large-scale view of the area. The other was centered on everything within one hundred miles of the carrier. Small icons of different shape and color represented surface, air, and subsurface contacts in the vicinity.

  When the debrief was done, the off-going duty section departed and Plug logged in on his computer. He joined a bunch of the tactical chat rooms and was able to message different people, both on the carrier and aboard other ships in the battle group—who were also on watch. Herndon showed him which messenger contacts he most needed to talk to and which ones he should let his enlisted watch standers talk to.

  “Let them talk to their peers and the individual sensor operators. You should be talking to the TAOs on each ship. Tell them what you want them to do, and ask them questions when your own watch standers can’t answer them for you. But remember, those ship TAOs are in charge of a lot of people and are fighting fires on their ships—figuratively speaking. So if they don’t answer immediately, just be patient. They’ll get to you. And don’t piss them off. Because you can’t do your job unless they answer.”

  Plug turned as he heard a squelch and hiss of static on the large black radio next to them. Then one of the enlisted watch standers, a chief, began speaking what sounded like a foreign language. Letters and numbers. He was reading from a large laminated binder. When he finished the carefully worded transmission, he said, “Execute.”

  “What was he just doing?” Plug asked Herndon.

  “Placing the ships in screen. Not sure why the guys before us didn’t do it. I swear, half the watch is just spent cleaning up the mess of the previous duty section.” He turned to the chief. “Thanks, Chief.”

  “No problem, sir.”

  Herndon stood and walked up to the whiteboard on the wall. There was a big compass circle drawn in black erasable marker, with the carrier in the middle.

  “We give each ship a designated section to hang out in—that’s what we mean when we say that we’re putting the ships in screen around the carrier. We make each ship’s slice of the water big enough that it isn’t too challenging for them to stay inside, but restrictive enough that it keeps them where we want them to be.” Herndon began erasing and updating the different three-letter identifiers around the carrier. There were distances and compass radials that showed where each ship was located.

  On the radio, each of the ships began responding. Plug recognized some of what they were saying, but not all.

  “And the reason that we place them in screen?”

  Herndon smiled. “You pilots really don’t know anything, do you?”

  “Be nice.”

  “It’s like placing Secret Service agents in a circle around the president. It’s the optimal way to protect the high-value unit—the carrier. We have rings of defense around us. Anti-air, anti-submarine, and airborne early warning, if you have enough assets.”

  “Huh. I mean, that makes total sense. I knew that the ships were protecting us in that way, but I guess I just never thought about someone actually placing them there. I just assumed that the ships knew where to go on their own.”

  “There are some things that the ships will do automatically. Like if someone fires at them, they’ll automatically fire back. But it’s our job to make sure we’re allocating our resources in the most efficient way possible. The more you learn about this, the easier your job will get, too. You’ll be able to influence which ships are in what part of the screen—that can make your flight schedule easier to execute. Or so I was told by the last guy that had your job.”

  “Nice.”

  “I gotta say, though, I’ve never seen it like this before.” He thumbed over to the whiteboard.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Normally we have three or four ships to put in screen, tops. Today we have ten. I’ve never seen us place this many around a single carrier.”

  Victoria stood at attention on the flight deck of the Farragut. She faced aft, towards the ship’s crew. The crew stood in formation opposite her, their backs to the ship’s trailing white wake.

  Hundreds swayed in silence as Captain Boyle pinned her Navy Cross medal on her uniform. Then he shook her hand, looking into her eyes and congratulating her. Proud smiles among the crew, and a few claps, which were immediately silenced by disciplined chiefs.

  Juan stood next to her. He received a Distinguished Flying Cross with combat V. AWR1 got an air medal. And the entire ship received a Presidential Unit Citation.

  The ship’s galley had a celebratory meal of hot dogs and hamburgers—cooked out on the flight deck—and cold sodas in Rubbermaid trash bins filled with ice. The cooks had set up a few tables with napkins and sides. Sailors grabbed tiny bags of potato chips, and cookies, and scooped brown beans and potato salad onto their plates. Speakers blared rap music until the master chief came over and changed it to Jimmy Buffett.

  Victoria stood sipping a canned Coke, watching some of her men eat and joke with each other.

  Juan walked up next to her. “You alright, Boss?”

  “Yeah, fine. You?”

  “Just trying to wrap my mind around all this, you know?”

  “You did a great job. You should wear that with pride.” She pointed at the medal pinned to his service dress blues. The new captain had insisted that they wear their more formal uniforms for the ceremony today. Flight suits wouldn’t do for a medal of this prominence.

  “You’ve got to admit it’s a little funny.”

  “What is?”

  “Plug got one of these too. He intentionally crashed his helicopter into the water, and they give him a Distinguished Flying Cross.”

  She smiled. “I don’t think that was the way we wrote it up…”

  “Still. It’s a better story if you tell it that way.”

  Victoria smiled. “You ready to fly tonight?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “We need to find these Chinese merchant ships. They’ll want to board them when we find them. Could be military personnel on board that might resist that. I’m not sure what will happen.”

  Juan chewed on his hot dog and checked his watch. “How much longer should we give these guys before we start clearing off the flight deck for tonight?”

  She took a deep breath. “Just a little bit longer. Everyone needs to chill out a bit before things get crazy again.”

  25

  Langley, Virginia

  David sat in the director’s conference room on the seventh floor of the CIA headquarters.

  “When did we get this information?” the director asked.

  Susan said, “It came from the team’s burst transmission over the past twenty-four hours.”

  “And you think that GIANT is our only option?”

  “We think he’s our best option,” Susan said.

  David and the SILVERSMITH team had just gotten a report from Chase and the Delta Force operatives who were embedded near the Chinese camp at
Liaoning. Chase and the Deltas had been observing the Chinese special forces teams conduct mortar and small-arms training. Then, in the past two days, the Chinese teams had begun leaving the base via military air transport. Other CIA intelligence sources were reporting that those teams were being sent overseas. Possibly towards the United States. But no one knew how they were getting into the country, or where they would be going.

  The director said, “So as it stands, we don’t have confirmation that they are headed towards the US. But that’s your best guess.”

  “Based on signals intel, yes. But we want to be sure.”

  “Is it worth sacrificing GIANT?”

  Susan was silent. But she nodded.

  “Okay. Let’s contact Tetsuo and have him put this in motion with GIANT.”

  It took ten minutes to get Tetsuo on the secure line from Japan. He had been prepped by Susan and was waiting for the call.

  Susan greeted Tetsuo over the speakerphone. Then she said, “Tetsuo, as you and I discussed, we’ve gotten some new information from Chase and his team. GIANT had previously offered to go to the camp at Liaoning. We have decided to take him up on that offer and make arrangements for him to inspect the camp after all.”

  The line was silent. David felt bad. Tetsuo was no doubt less than thrilled at the change of plans. Susan and Director Buckingham glanced at each other.

  The director chimed in, “As you are aware, Tetsuo, the situation in China has become less and less stable. Anti-American sentiment is high. Jinshan is seen as a savior among his people, protecting them from Western religious fanatics like this American man they say killed their president. Jinshan is using his popularity and power to crack down on all political opposition. You know that Secretary Zhang, whom GIANT worked for, was the first one to go. GIANT’s ability to provide us with valuable intelligence has likely come to an end. But we think we can get him access to the Liaoning base. If he can get target information there…if he can find out where those Chinese special operations teams are headed and pass it to Chase Manning’s SOF team, that would be invaluable for us.”

  Tetsuo finally spoke. “I agree that GIANT’s value as an agent has diminished, due to his affiliation with Secretary Zhang. But to send him to the Liaoning camp now, after all that’s happened? How will he even be able to get there?”

  “We’re going to help him with that. One of our agents in China will help him get access as an inspector and arrange the flight. But he’ll have a short window of opportunity before he’s found out. We think he’ll only have a day or two before it’s discovered that he’s inspecting the camp. So we’ll have to coordinate with Chase Manning’s SOF team to make sure they know to grab him if that becomes necessary.”

  David knew that Chase’s SOF team was supposed to be on an observation and reconnaissance mission. Extracting GIANT was considered a high-risk tertiary option.

  Tetsuo said, “Sir, is this up for debate?”

  “I’m afraid not. The president needs to know what’s going on there. China is becoming too hostile towards American interests. We need to know if they’re actually preparing for war, and what they’re planning.”

  “Understood. What is the timing?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  Jinshan had been traveling a lot in the past few days. He had just finished a meeting in Guangzhou. Final preparations with Admiral Song, who would soon be going to sea. Lena rode in his car to the airport. Jinshan looked at her with admiration. She was his most precious possession. A beautiful flower that he had cultivated and grown to perfection.

  She looked at him with those dark eyes, waiting obediently to hear his bidding. He hoped he lived long enough to see her achieve victory in America. Lena was the closest thing to a daughter he would ever have, and he suspected she harbored a similar filial affection towards him. He could sense it when she spoke to him.

  “What have you found out about Zhang?”

  She was direct and to the point. “He is purged, as you wished.”

  Jinshan knew she meant dead. “And his assistant? Dr. Wang? The one we suspect may be a traitor?”

  Jinshan had recently learned that Zhang’s top advisor, an old economist who had been educated in America, might have been working with the CIA. Cyber penetrations into the CIA’s clandestine archives and financial records had given his team at the Ministry of State Security almost enough information to be sure. But the MSS had decided to leave him in place in order to see who else he might try to contact.

  “There is a problem with him. Somehow, he has arranged a flight toward one of our camps. The one at Liaoning.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “We aren’t sure.”

  “Why is he going there?”

  “His orders say that the visit is a state inspection.” She must have seen the surprise on his face. “I admit that I was too late in detecting and stopping the flight. I apologize. We are not sure how the flight or visit was arranged. But I have contacted the officer in charge of base security. He’ll make sure that it doesn’t become a problem.”

  Jinshan nodded. “Good.”

  26

  Chase and his reconnaissance team were concealed on a ridgeline several miles from the Chinese military camp in Liaoning Province.

  Their paradrop had been relatively uneventful, despite the unusual entry. They had landed on a flat dirt field only a few hundred feet from a forest.

  The three Delta operators and Chase had quickly gathered up their parachutes and headed into the woods for concealment. The forest rose up into a small mountain. The terrain in this area was hilly. Where the rivers turned the mountainous land into valleys, towns and farms sprung up. By staying in the mountains, the four men were able to travel throughout the area with a low threat of discovery.

  They had reached the first of their planned reconnaissance positions after a two-day hike. There was a source of water an hour away. The vegetation and rock formations at their location provided good cover from unwanted observers. But the position also allowed them to see deep into the next valley, where the Chinese military training was supposed to be.

  Chase and the Deltas had been observing the Chinese military training for over a week now. They had watched the same routine day in and day out. Nighttime small-arms training and mortar fire. Some sort of exercise with four-wheel-drive trucks being parked in a certain way.

  Then, two days ago, transport planes had begun flying in and picking up a few squads at a time.

  The Chinese troops were leaving the camp. As far as Chase’s team could tell, about two hundred men had left via military transport aircraft, and only one squad remained.

  The final team looked like it was getting ready to go now. A group of twelve men, their gear prestaged near the flight line.

  “Where you think they’re all headed?”

  Chase squeezed the brownish contents of his MRE through a tiny tear in the vacuum-sealed pouch while looking through his observation scope. This one was called chicken and rice, but they all tasted the same.

  “Beats me. Maybe it’s just a school, and they’re just headed back to their normal base of operations.” The tone in the man’s voice told Chase that he didn’t believe his own words.

  Chase said, “Let’s go over it again. The drone transmission is in thirty minutes. I need to have our report ready to go. It looked like they were training in teams.”

  Another one of the military transports flew low overhead, the sound of the engines rumbling through the hills. Chase and the Deltas were hidden by the thick mountain bush and had specially designed tarps over their gear that would reduce and break up their heat signatures from IR cameras. But the loud noise and close proximity of the aircraft still halted all conversation until it had passed.

  The camp was a cluster of buildings, vehicles and a paved runway. One of the Deltas had named it Camp Kung Pao. As Chase bit into a tasteless protein bar, he thought about what he wouldn’t give for some good Kung Pao chicken right now. He sighed
, knowing that he needed to concentrate and document his findings. He tapped with one finger on the thin military-grade tablet strapped to his left forearm. He wrote short text reports that would be instantly encrypted and shot up in a burst transmission to an Air Force drone at precise times each day.

  Chase had suggested that the Air Force just use the drone for the entire mission, but that idea had been rejected. The Chinese cyberattacks that had crippled their satellites had also infected many of the military datalink networks—particularly the ones that were used to control drones from long-range. While the Air Force was able to preprogram drones and retrieve information once the drones returned from their mission, they were no longer the real-time reaction platform that the military had grown accustomed to over the past two decades.

  Too much reliance on technology, that was the lesson. And the US military was learning it the hard way.

  Chase and the three Delta operators were able to react quickly, however. That was why General Schwartz had suggested that they go in. Their mission was to observe and report back. They were to find out what mission the Chinese special operators were training for—and what could be so important that Cheng Jinshan believed it could help China take the Pacific. They would send short updates each day and then provide a more detailed report once they were safely out of the lion’s den.

  “Definitely teams. And they only trained at night.”

  “We only observed them for a week. Could be that we just didn’t see them training during the day.”

  “Nah. They were doing training at night for a reason. Whatever they’re doing, they’re doing it at night.”

  Another of the Deltas said, “Each team was set up the same way. Three vehicles, along a road. Two vehicles on the outside as a barricade road block, protecting the interior team. About ten, twelve guys per squad, tops. The ones in the middle were the mortar experts. The ones on the outside were providing perimeter coverage, security, and feedback with range-finding equipment.”

 

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