Barracuda- Final Bearing

by Michael Dimercurio

  “Exactly,” Philip Gordon said. “Another damned tightrope.”

  “Admiral Pacino, how would you recommend proceeding?”

  Thin ice, Pacino thought. With Wadsworth in Africa, he was being asked to recommend the Navy’s advice during a time of crisis. If he were wrong, Wadsworth would crucify him. If he were right, Wadsworth would be just as angry for taking the political spotlight from him. “I’m sure Admiral Wadsworth would be better to—”

  “Admiral Pacino,” Warner said, iron in her voice, “I’ve asked’your recommendation and I want to hear it. I didn’t ask Boxing Tony, I asked you.”

  “Yes, well, I see it like this. The fleet is a week out of Japan. We should do our work now in the UN, as though sanctions will work. We get State to work on Vorontsev to hold back, even if it means giving him some trade benefits, making him whole on the money he’ll lose. Then we take out every Japanese Galaxy satellite in orbit, all ten of them. Our submarines sortie from east and west, seek out the Japanese fleet and sink their submarines. Our aircraft carrier air arm takes on the Firestar fighters, one hopes with a covert night raid that catches them on the ground. Or General clough’s Stealth fighters could go in to neutralize the air force. And if we’re quick about it, we could use air attacks to neutralize some of their submarines, because once they’re at sea, they’ll give us a hell of a fight. We can claim that the strike is done to bring Japan back into compliance with their own constitution, and that we have to take that step because the Greater Manchurian missile attack shows that they can’t be trusted with a military. By that time the USS Ronald Reagan is in the immediate waters off Japan and we can enforce our blockade. The Russians, I suggest, won’t fool with us when we have Japan surrounded.

  But just in case, I recommend we also send the other battle groups to sea.” Pacino reached into his briefcase for his Writepad computer. “The carriers Abraham Lincoln and United States are in Pearl Harbor, being fueled and loaded out now. They can be ready to go to sea tomorrow on your orders, Madam President. In addition we can assemble a European force with the French carrier De Gaulle and the Royal Navy’s Ark Royal, both of them accompanied by their escort forces. The Brits and French are visiting Guam now and they can load out, fuel up and get underway within thirty-six hours. The Royal Australian Navy has a small force that could come up from the south. By Christmas, if we’re quick, we could have Japan encircled.” Warner waited for comments, and when there were none, looked hard at Pacino. “Admiral, you are saying you would hold off the Japanese until the first carrier battle group is closer, then take out the Japanese surveillance and communication satellites, then attack and blow up the Japanese air force and submarine navy, then set up the blockade. Is that how you see it?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We should be deliberate about it, but we should hit the Japanese with a knockout punch now and make our demands later.”

  “And if they fight back?”

  “Madam President, they will fight back. This is exactly what happened just before the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941. We cut off the flow of their oil, they were backed into a corner. Once in the corner, they fought to get out, among other things. And they’ll do it again.”

  “So you’re saying we are heading for war?”

  “I’m saying that Japan is an island nation. It’s like a scuba diver, if you will. If we cut off its air, it can either die or fight back, and the Japanese aren’t likely to lie down and die.”

  “And so?”

  “The Reagan task force is accompanied by two 688class submarines. If the Japanese deploy their submarines in force they could conceivably overcome the 688 subs and sink them. After that, the surface force would be easy pickings. There are a dozen admirals in the navy senior to me who would jump down my throat for saying this, but it’s true—the only effective antisubmarine warfare device is another submarine. Destroyers and frigates and helicopters and P-3 patrol planes are good, damned good, but good won’t wash against the Japanese. Their subs and crews are the best. Their technology is on the cutting edge. Their sub is the latest generation built. Even our Seawolf class was designed a decade and a half ago, and we only have two of them. The Destiny class is equal to, if not better than, the NSSN, our new submarine being designed.” Leach shook his head. “You sound like your counterparts did during the Cold War—’The Russians are better than we are, they have all the best stuff, they can kick our tails.’ Then when it came to it, their military was revealed to be overstated and we’d spent our national product on guns, defending against an alleged tiger bear, forgive mer-that was a paper tiger going flat broke.” Pacino said nothing. Leach, the head of the CIA, had no business holding his job with such an attitude. No wonder Donchez couldn’t stand him. “Dick?”

  President Warner asked Donchez. “My opinion on the issue is that Japan is once again threatening all of Asia, and the world demands something be done. Our people think we should do something about it. Our response to this must be governed by the best interests of America. And by Japan’s peculiar response to threats of force. Here’s what I mean. Al was right when he said we need to have a clear objective, something more than pie in the sky. We must know what we want and be willing to take only that, nothing less. The American people must buy into that objective before we act. And I think the objective is to walk away from this event with Japan’s radiation missiles destroyed, their submarines and fighters reduced in number to what they really need for home defense. This would involve international inspectors or advisors on Japanese soil. Now—here’s how we do that… “We have to realize that the Japanese famed national pride would be a casualty of this operation.

  These people will die before they’ll accept some of what I am suggesting. They will fight, so we must be prepared for that. We must expect a violent reaction to a blockade. I think Admiral Pacino has it right—we need to do a coordinated attack on the Japanese Galaxy satellites, encircle Japan, keep Russia out of the scene, whatever the cost, and take on the Japanese air force with ground attacks or air-to-air combat. We will have casualties and lose some of our force strength. Once the blockade is in place, I fully expect the Maritime Self Defense Force to come out fighting.”

  “Why?” Leach said. “Just because you and Pacino think it’s 1941 ? That was then. This is now, for God’s sake.”

  “Same cultures. Same ocean in between. Same island economy in Japan. Same worldview in America. They have guns and ships and airplanes. We have guns and ships and airplanes. Three generations later, and it’ll come down to the same fight.” Warner turned toward Leach. “Brian, what’s on your mind?”

  “Well,” Leach began in his faintly singsong voice, “I think we’ve all missed the point here. We’re already talking about war, how we’ll do it, what the bad guys will do, what the public will think.” Leach crossed his legs, the hair showing on the skin of his ankles. He pulled a pair of half-frame glasses from his shirt pocket and perched them on the end of his nose. “We haven’t discussed diplomacy yet.” Leach now looked over his glasses at Phillip Gordon, secretary of state, as if denigrating him for not doing his job. “We haven’t discussed nonmilitary options yet. I think we should have our ambassador there explain some simple facts to Prime Minister Kurita.

  Facts such as—we have the power to completely bottle up the Japanese islands. We can blow up their entire military. Madam President, I suggest we get smart. Ask politely, spell out the facts. I believe the Japanese will cooperate—they don’t want to lose face. I urge you to consider that.” Warner paced, finally stopped, again in front of the window. “General Sverdlov,” she called. She had yet to ask the opinion of the incoming nominee for Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. Sverdlov was a young-looking general, short with a full head of straight, fine brown hair, teeth so smooth and white as to seem capped or coated, and a perpetual smile. With his recent ear operation he was rarely seen without a ball of cotton in his right ear, and he had stumbled slightly on the way in, his equilibrium thrown off. Pacino had met him at sev
eral Pentagon parties, and they had gotten along well, although Sverdlov’s second wife had seemed a bit young and flirty. Sverdlov blinked and rubbed his chin, his teeth appearing as he smiled. “You know. Madam President, when a cancer patient goes to a surgeon, the surgeon recommends surgery. An oncologist pecommends chemotherapy or radiation.

  A faith healer recommends prayer and herbs. A tree surgeon, he pulls out a damned chain saw. If you put a situation like this in front of the Navy,” Sverdlov pointed to Pacino and Donchez, since Donchez had once been the Chief of Naval Operations, “they’ll recommend blockade. The Secretary of State will urge diplomacy, and CIA and NSA will recommend spying for more information or a covert operation to assassinate the prime minister. But the call for diplomatic means from CIA and the call for a military operation from State tell me that this situation is far beyond routine. So now you want the overall military view, knowing I’m an Army professional.” Sverdlov flashed a dazzling smile, neutralizing any thoughts of the crowd around him that he was being pompous. “I’d say blockade now if we had the carrier battle groups closer to Japan, but I do not want to advise that until our forces are in position. If we announce a blockade and the Russians run goods to Japan, it’ll be damned hard to set up a blockade piecemeal and stop the Russian resupply. If we just send in an ambassador to threaten Japan, we appear weak to them and the world. I suggest a compromise.” Pacino smiled to himself. It was no wonder Sverdlov had managed to work his way to the top—as a military man he was a master politician. Which made Pacino wonder about the future of his own career, with his bull-in-a-china-shop approach, and with Wadsworth gunning for him. “Let’s do this,” Sverdlov went on. “For the next two days we say nothing. No comment. The Navy makes announcements and gets into the news with a massive deployment of the fleets out of Pearl Harbor. The battle group at sea heads directly for Japan, and the other battle groups follow suit. Five days of steaming later, the Japanese Galaxy satellites show all this firepower headed their way, almost there. The first battle group is already in position.

  We let the Russians do what they want. with a notice to them that at noon on Day Zero, something will change. Then, only then, our ambassador comes knocking. He says he’s got a face-saving deal in mind for the Japanese. The deal is, we slip in some UN inspectors, we put in at Port Yokosuka with a battle group, and what’s in it for the Japanese is that we will let them back into our trade markets, slowly and quietly, and in two weeks this all drops from the news and we go on.”

  “What if Kurita says no?” Warner asked, a warm expression directed at Sverdlov.

  Obviously Warner was one of Sverdlov’s many champions, Pacino thought.

  “That would be crazy, though I admit the Japanese sometimes look that way to Western eyes. Okay, so let’s assume they turn us down. All the better for us, because then we have no choice but to set up the blockade. And we do, but our ships just watch the commercial boat traffic for a day, let the reality sink in. We ask Kurita one last time.

  He says no again. We announce that for one week we will blockade Japan.

  We start our stranglehold and let them feel it. We ask Kurita again.

  Again he says no. We keep up the blockade. Every week we ask. When Kurita says no, we’ll publish that to the world. Then the starving people are his fault. Eventually, I believe we’ll work it out.”

  “Thanks, General, very interesting. Now, Mr. Cogster?” Cogster cleared his throat and uncrossed his legs. “General Sverdlov seems to have the situation analyzed. Although we haven’t answered the one question we should have asked at first. What happens if we just do nothing? Why do we feel we have to solve every international squabble in the world?

  What’s Greater Manchuria to us? What is Japan to us?”

  “Alex, what do you think of Steve’s playing, I assume, devil’s advocate?” Alex Addison, Chief of Staff, lifted an eyebrow and rubbed his nose. “Well, I think the answer’s obvious, Madam President. If we do nothing we announce to the world that we’re the Great Britain of the twenty-first century, a former world power, no longer a player. Greater Manchuria is a good friend to have because of its location and resources, its counterbalance to Russia and the Chinas. And Japan is a problem to us. If we let them get away with this, that is a slippery slope. Japan then would’have a blank check to use their illegal military any damned way they want. And then finally, our popularity figures will literally go negative. The public wants action. If we want to be here in two years to finish your good work, we’d better give Admirals Pacino and Wadsworth some orders.” “Steve?” Warner asked expectantly. Cogster looked at the shine of his shoes. “I have to say that I don’t think the Navy is adequately represented here. We have a junior flag officer who commands submarines, and I mean no disrespect, Admiral Pacino, we’ve all heard about how brave you are, your Navy Cross and all those other medals, but you do have a sub man’s point of view. Your worries about Japan’s subs are a case in point. Maybe they’re no big deal. I don’t know, but I’d like to hear what Admiral Wadsworth has to say about this.”

  “Okay, Steve,”

  Warner said. “But what about Admiral Donchez, who was chief of naval operations just two years ago?” Cogster smiled tentatively at Donchez.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, looking at Warner for the first time. “That was then. Two years ago. This is now. Wadsworth is the officer responsible for the Navy. I say let’s get his input.” The Blowtorch speaks, Pacino thought, while trying to keep his face impassive. “Well, Steve, you do have a point, but we need to put a plan in action now. Can we raise Admiral Wadsworth on the videolink?” Warner waved over a staffer who took four other staffers and began scurrying in and out of the room while the occupants shared an uncomfortable silence. Pacino turned on his Writepad computer and began scribbling on the one-page display. With his finger he drew a line vertically down the center of the page and on the left wrote “Blockade” and on the right “Delay.” The notes below each were his ideas for orders to the combined submarine force for each decision. By the time the videolink was ready with Wadsworth, Pacino felt he had the embryo of a plan. Wadsworth wore whites, in contrast to Pacino’s dress blues, since Wadsworth was in tropical Africa. Warner briefed Wadsworth on the situation as if he hadn’t heard, then informed him of the recommendations of the men in the room, eventually outlining Pacino’s ideas. Wadsworth’s face tightened at the last. Finally Warner asked the admiral his opinion. “It’s difficult for me to believe Admiral Pacino would want to attack Japan without provocation. That is a dangerous recommendation. He apparently feels that our carrier battle groups are no match for the Japanese submarine force, and. Madam President, that is just his parochial submariner attitude. The Japanese forces’ reputations are overblown. They have high technology, and the bugs that go with it. Their planes have low reliability and their submarines don’t always work. Let’s not make this decision based on guesses. I recommend we use the diplomatic solution, and we should keep the USS Reagan force Japan-bound, and I do want the Abe Lincoln and United States sent to sea toward the northwest Pacific, but no threats, no talk of blockade. Let’s let diplomacy work.” “Thank you. Admiral,” Warner said, beginning to look weary. “Steve?”

  “Ma’am, it’s up to us to do the right thing. Admiral Wadsworth’s sober and responsible recommendation is the right thing.”

  “Admiral Pacino?”

  “Yes, ma’am?” Wadsworth was having his revenge, and at what cost?

  “Do you agree with Admiral Wadsworth?”

  This was it, he thought. Either he bought into what he believed was a flawed plan and watched it fail, or he publicly disagreed with Wadsworth and was quietly relieved and retired from the Navy ten days from now when Wadsworth came back and built up a case against him. Which would be easy—he had, after all, lost two ships in five years, albeit in combat, but nevertheless, it was a dual black mark. Pacino looked at Wadsworth’s puffy face on the video screen and decided he didn’t want to be part of a Navy with a Wadswo
rth in charge.

  He had had a wonderful career, and every career had to end. In the military, that came about by death, disability, resignation or retirement. And retirement could be voluntary or forced. Perhaps resignation held more dignity, particularly when the politics of flag rank became too much. He thought about his waterfront house over the Severn River, facing the Naval Academy, about his dreary office at the base in Norfolk, about the fact that for the rest of his career he would probably just command one office after another, never again giving rudder orders aboard a nuclear submarine. That duty was reserved for younger officers. So what was left for him?

  No longer eligible for submarine command, the rest of his career would be a series of meetings like this one.

  With that thought, Pacino made his decision.

  “Madam President, not only do I completely disagree with Admiral Wadsworth, I’m willing to put my reasons why in a memo to you. Admiral Wadsworth, I’ll be sure and have a copy on your desk for when you return from Africa. If we do as Admiral Wadsworth suggests, the Japanese submarine fleet will put to sea as soon as they see our carrier battle groups coming, which they will if

  we aren’t going to knock out their surveillance satellites.

  When the battle groups are finally in position, the Japanese sub force will put our surface ships on the bottom the minute we say the word’blockade.’ If we want this operation to work, we have to sortie the fleet, hit the Galaxy satellites, attack the sub bases and air force bases, and blow away their planes and ships—and all within a six-hour interval—and tighten the rope around Tokyo’s neck. If we fail to commit to that level. Admiral Wadsworth’s surface sailors will be drinking seawater.