“Then, in 1995, a few things began to happen, which we did not like. In January, China took delivery of her first Kilo. It arrived on a transport vessel registered in Cyprus. Took six weeks, but the important thing was, it arrived.
“Then, in mid-September, a second Kilo left the Baltic bound for China, and that arrived as well. Then, at the beginning of 1996, the Chinese confirmed they had ordered a total of eight more of Kilo Class boats. Just a few weeks later they began a series of Naval exercises in the Taiwan Strait that were clearly intended to unnerve the Taiwanese military. They started loosing off missiles very close to the Taiwan coastline, and right then we were obliged to sit up and take serious notice.
“I guess you remember we sent a CVBG in to remind them of our interest. It slowed them down a bit, and from then on, we had to keep a very careful watch on the situation. You know how gravely we would view any action by the Chinese that threatened not only our own position in the Taiwan Strait, but also that of the rest of the world’s peaceable shipping trade along those Far Eastern routes.
“Well, for a few years after that things went somewhat quiet, I suspect because the Russians were unable to get further Kilos built. You know what a goddamned mess they are in. Since the breakup of the old Soviet Navy, the shipyards have been just about moribund, especially in the Baltic. So far as we know there have been very few deliveries of any submarines.
“It is just possible that the Russians have taken note of our repeated warnings that they should not fulfill the Chinese order, but I doubt it. We stepped the pressure up this year when the Chinese exercised their Eastern Fleet far too close to Taiwan—so close you’ll remember it almost caused an international incident between a couple of our DDG’s and a group of their aging frigates. Would have been a nightmare if we’d had to sink ’em, but at least they did not have a submarine out there.
“Since then, we have called the Russian ambassador in, a half-dozen times, explaining how seriously we would view the situation if China suddenly had an efficient submarine flotilla patrolling the Strait of Taiwan. We know what damage a top-class commander in one of those boats can do. If China had a total of ten of them she could deploy three or more in the Strait. That would effectively shut us out.
“You know there is a strong feeling in the Navy that we ought not to place those big carriers in harm’s way without real good reason. And the President is very aware that if the Chinese have an operational patrol of several Kilos in there, that argument would begin to sound very, very persuasive.”
“Yeah. It sure would, Arnie. It would be very bad for the Navy, and that means bad for the USA. And the President knows that better than anyone.”
“Right, Joe. You said it. Now let me recap some of the events of September fifth, two days before our first meeting with the President. I was right in the thick of it—started about 0100 hours our time. One of our guys in South China reported in, unscheduled, something he had not seen before: the arrival of a big Russian military aircraft, landing, apparently empty, at the airport in Xiamen early in the morning. Xiamen is the Chinese Naval Base city in the very south of Fujian Province.
“They refueled it, and within an hour, a Navy bus arrived with about twenty Chinese Navy personnel, who boarded the aircraft. It took off right away, heading north.
“Then, we get another report into Fort Meade about two hours later. The Russian has landed at Hongqiao Airport, Shanghai. Another of our guys sees two large Navy buses arrive—about 1300 their time—and this time sixty to seventy guys get out and board the aircraft.
“Then at 0500 our time, we get another call reporting that the Russian military aircraft has shown up in Beijing. Came in direct from Shanghai. And fifteen more guys joined it. These were fairly senior officers. In uniform. Right after that it went quiet until midday, when a CIA guy from the embassy got a message through to Fort Meade that a Russian military aircraft with about a hundred Chinese Naval personnel on board had landed at the Sheremetyevo II airport in Moscow shortly after 1900. That’s unusual for a military plane, but the embassy guy says there was quite a serious welcoming group of Russians at the airport.
“Anyhow, I ran the routine checks, aircraft numbers, time of journey, etc. It was obviously the same aircraft—and, equally obvious, crew for the two Kilos which we have known were nearing completion at Severodvinsk.
“Now, Joe, I took this matter very seriously. I made a report detailing how important I thought this was. But I think my predecessor as National Security Adviser did not recommend any of my concerns to the President. Not even when we confirmed the hundred-Chinese crew had in fact arrived in Severodvinsk and were beginning to work on the two submarines.”
“Jesus, my predecessor left me nothing on this.”
“Joe, I actually find the whole fucking thing unbelievable. I have been going on about this crap for months, and my reports are getting shelved by some goddamned political shithead who doesn’t know his ass from his fucking elbow. Nor does he know how dangerous these Chinese motherfuckers actually are.
“Anyhow, mid-October, the two Kilos remained alongside, probably doing harbor exercises and trials we think, and the next thing I’m hearing is the overheads have picked ’em up heading out of the White Sea apparently going home. We tracked ’em up toward Murmansk five hundred miles to the northwest. They were obviously getting the hell out of the White Sea before it freezes and locks ’em in there for five months.
“Well, then I really blew the whistle. I actually called the President, the hell with fucking protocol, and told him these bastards were on the move, and if we were not damned careful, by my count, the Chinese would have four Kilos bang in the Taiwan Strait, in the very foreseeable future. He was extremely concerned and told me to keep him personally appraised of the situation.
“And this did not take long. The two Kilos headed right into the Russian submarine base at Pol’arnyj—that’s the one close to the head of the bay, before you get farther down to Severomorsk and Murmansk.
“And that’s where they’ve been ever since. Just doing harbor exercises. They’ve never dived and never been out for more than about forty-eight hours, which means to me they’re probably going home sometime in the near future, on the surface. I have suggested to the President that we may have to arrange for them not to arrive home. Not ever. Devious Chinese pricks.”
Admiral Joe Mulligan did not smile. “Now I know why you recommended Commander Boomer Dunning join us this morning. I’d like to bring him in now, if it’s okay with you?”
“Absolutely. Get him in here. Because today there’s been another development, which I think all three of us should discuss.”
Joe Mulligan picked up a telephone and summoned Boomer into his office. The nuclear commanding officer entered and awaited permission to be seated.
Admiral Morgan was succinct. “Boomer,” he said, “you may know that China has taken delivery of two of those Russian Kilo submarines. They have ordered eight more. Two of these are right now being worked-up in the Barents Sea near Murmansk and are expected to leave for China quite soon. We are fairly relaxed about this because neither boat has ever dived, and they seem to be preparing to make the journey on the surface, which is good, because we can watch the bastards. And then act when we’re good and ready.
“However, today, December fourth, a new situation developed, which we are now watching with considerable interest. The overhead just picked up, in the last twenty-four hours, a suspicious-looking freighter making her way through the Malacca Strait. We apparently spotted her before, off the west coast of Africa, heading south. So we kept an eye on her. Couldn’t quite work out her cargo or destination. We have now established she’s Dutch, and under that big cover on her main deck is what looks like a submarine. Her course on clearing Singapore looks like she’s bound for China.”
“Christ,” said Mulligan. “Are you going to tell me how you found out about all this?”
“Too fucking late is how we found out. You wouldn’t bel
ieve this, Joe, but I had not vacated my chair at Fort Meade for more than an hour and a half when some brain-dead asshole gets a hold of a report from the satellite that suggests a Kilo Class submarine is on the move, on a freighter, from St. Petersburg. They alert the Defense Secretary, and the office of the Secretary of State and presumably someone here or hereabouts.”
“Not me,” said Admiral Mulligan.
“Anyway they have a very high level conference and decide the Kilo is probably going to the Middle East or Indonesia, especially as they seemed to think the freighter carrying it might be Dutch. Decided there was not much we could do about it anyway, and let the matter rest.
“Do you guys know what they shoulda done? They shoulda said ‘CHINA’—and gone out and sunk the motherfucker. That’s what they shoulda done.”
“Yeah. Good idea, Arnie,” said Admiral Mulligan. “That is what they shoulda done.”
“Delivery of these bastards is a goddamned absolute. The Chinese either get ’em, or they don’t get ’em, right?” The Admiral was not pleased.
“Without telling you the whole story,” he continued, “we then had to track the damned thing right across the Indian Ocean. We watched her enter the Malacca Strait, which as you know is a darned long bit of water—divides the entire thousand-mile-long coast of Sumatra from the Malaysian Peninsular. It’s really the gateway to the east, and we have a kinda sentry right in there. You don’t need to know exactly who, or how, but we have friends…well, employees anyway…guys who specialize in this type of stuff.”
“Couldn’t be anything to do with the requirement for pilotage past Singapore, could it?” asked Admiral Mulligan, an eyebrow slightly raised.
“In this case, the least said, Joe…Anyway, once she gets through there, and steers northeast, she’s into the waters of the South China Sea. It’s fifteen hundred miles, around four and a half days for a big freighter making fifteen knots, and she’s right off the first Chinese Naval Base. That’s Haikou, on their southern island of Hainan. We’re guessing that’s the freighter’s first stop, and it’s too damn late for us to do anything about it. We can’t just take the fucker out, not in front of the whole goddamned world, right on China’s front doorstep. I told Fort Meade this morning they should expect some kind of a Chinese escort from the Southern Fleet to come out and meet her, and then accompany her right into Haikou. Devious Chinese bastards.”
“Glad to see you’re mellowing some, Arnold,” observed the CNO with a grin.
“I cannot see one thing to be mellow about,” said Admiral Morgan. “Neither can I see how the hell this one got through the net. But I’m going to find out and there’s gonna be big fallout in my old department by next week. Christ! This’ll be China’s third Kilo. It better be their goddamned last.”
Joe Mulligan shifted in his chair. “You know, Arnold,” he said, “I just wonder whether you’re not getting overexcited about these Kilos. I mean, are they really so important? It’s a medium-size, kinda slow, kinda basic ex-Soviet design with a limited endurance. If I knew where they were, I could probably wipe out three of ’em in as many minutes.”
“CNO,” said Admiral Morgan formally, “you could probably wipe out ten of them, if you knew precisely where they were. But remember, they are diesel-electrics, not nuclears, and at under five knots they are silent. And we expect them to be working close to their base, in what are extremely difficult, shallow waters, where our antisubmarine capability is least.”
“Well, Boomer here had a successful run-in with one of ’em, didn’t he?”
The Captain of Columbia looked up. “Only once with a Kilo, and I’d have to say that boat was dead quiet at less than seven knots. We only picked him up originally because he was snorkeling in deep open water. So at least we had an accurate position and fire-control solution on him. But when he stopped his diesels, and went silent on his electric motor, he was impossible to hold except on active.
“We had picked up fairly clear engine lines passive at about twelve miles, but once he stopped running his diesels the real problem started. Fortunately we were ready for that. But if he is not going to be decent enough to run those engines, the problem never even begins. And we are in all kinds of trouble.”
“Exactly,” growled Admiral Morgan. “They are bastards to find if they are going slowly, and out there in the China seas, they can go as slowly as they like. They’ll only need to recharge their batteries every three or four days, and we’ll never get a handle on them.
“All the way up that Chinese coast—South China Sea, Taiwan Strait, East China Sea, right up to the Yellow Sea—the place is nothing but naval bases. They have ’em everywhere. From Haikou and Zhanjiang in the south right up through Canton and Shantou. Then we got the East Sea Fleet with an expanding base at Xiamen—dead opposite Taiwan—another one at Ping Tan, which is less than a hundred miles across the strait from Taipei. And then they got bases at all stops north to Shanghai, and the big submarine shipyards at Huludao, which is damn nearly in Manchuria.”
Admiral Morgan paused, gathering his thoughts, assuming as always that everyone else knew as much as he did about the world’s navies. Then he spoke.
“If the Chinese get those Kilos in place, they will cause havoc if they want to. It will be impossible to protect our interests in Taiwan because we’ll be living in fear of losing another big carrier. And I don’t think anyone would be able to deal with that.”
“She does pack a bit of a punch, too. We know that,” mused Admiral Mulligan.
“Well, we know it can deliver a torpedo sophisticated enough to carry a nuclear warhead. And that’s pretty damn dangerous,” answered Morgan. “Chinese technology can actually provide that. I don’t know if they’d use such weapons, but could we ever be sure? Their other, conventional-headed torpedoes are quite bad enough to send our carriers home. I guess we could hit two or three of them in retribution if they did hit us, but Jesus! That’d be a bit fucking late in my view. The fact remains the Kilo can literally vanish if it’s being handled by a top man. And as we know, it can pack a terrific wallop.”
“And the Russians have been improving them all the time, I guess,” said Mulligan.
“Yes. Even for export. This sonofabitch is their big chance to keep making big bucks, and they want to please their clients. What’s more, just to make your day, I also read somewhere they have a couple of improvement programs in place. The new Type 877EKM has significantly better weapons systems—two tubes that can now fire wire-guided torpedoes…. advanced, new torpedoes, which the goddamned Russians are quite likely to supply.
“And I guess I told you the new Type 636 Kilo has an automated combat information system. Allows them to place simultaneous fire on two targets. They have never been able to do that before. And the fucking thing is even quieter now, if that were possible.”
“Beautiful. Just what we need in the Strait of Taiwan. But maybe it’s not really such a surprise, Arnie. That’s what they have worked on for all of their submarines these past few years. Somehow they’ve found the money, and they now have a few good nuclear boats that are supposed to be quieter than ours. I expect they developed the Kilo improvements at the same time. Basically, the clients of Moscow are tin-pot nations who either hate us or don’t much like us. Or, in the case of the Chinese, want to be as powerful as we are.
“Whatever the Russians say, they have built the Kilo to please those clients, like Iran, Libya, and a variety of not-too-competent operators. The Chinese order represents a major change in policy by the Russians and gives us a serious problem. It seems we are not going to be able to persuade them not to fulfill the China order. Nor are we going to persuade the Chinese to back off. Those last seven diesel-electrics will get to Shanghai, and then to Xiamen, right on the Taiwan Strait. Whether we like it or not.”
The room was very still for all of a half minute. Then Vice Admiral Arnold Morgan spoke. Slowly.
“No, Joe. No they’re not,” he said.
And the tone was not
menacing. It was uttered as a simple statement of opinion. Boomer Dunning felt a chill run right through him. Now he knew for certain precisely why he was in this particular room. He betrayed no emotion. But he glanced up at the CNO, who remained expressionless. Boomer thought he noticed the smallest perception of a nod.
“I speak in this way because I believe we are never going to persuade the Russians to give up that order. They’ve got too much riding on it. Not just cash.”
“How d’you mean exactly?” asked Admiral Mulligan.
“Well, right here we have another development, Joe. You remember that Russian aircraft carrier the Admiral Kuznetzov?”
“Sure. It’s their main surface ship in the north, isn’t it? Not so big as a Nimitz, nor even a JFK or an Enterprise Class of ours. But still big, close to a thousand feet long I thought?”
“You thought right. She’s big, she’s dangerous, and the Russians had decided to build a whole class of them. However when the entire house of cards caved in round about 1993, and they simply could not afford to continue such grandiose plans, they found themselves stuck with a couple of fucking great carriers, both half-finished, in a shipyard in the Ukraine they no longer even owned. By this time they were just about bust. Terrible things happened—like the town threatened to cut off the power supply to the shipyard. No one was getting paid, and naturally the new carriers were more or less abandoned.”
“Jesus. Yeah, I remember. Remind me, what were they called?”
“There was the Varyag, which I think they got rid of locally, and there was the Admiral Gudenko. And she’s still sitting right there at the Chernomorsky Shipyard in Nikolayev while the governments of Russia and the new Ukraine argue about who owns her, and who’s going to pay for her completion. The answers to both questions are the same: no one. Which has been a major blow to the local shipbuilding industry. People ended up almost starving in that town.”
“And?”
“Not much happened for a long time. The Admiral Gudenko had been launched, but she was covered in scaffold, and they eventually moved her out to one of the unused piers in the south of the yard, where no one much goes. Then someone had a brainstorm—let’s sell her to some country that will pay for her completion. Who was the first name on the list?”
Kilo Class Page 6
