Hunter Killer: The War with China: The Battle for the Central Pacific

by David Poyer

  And now, a wartime parting.

  She emerged from the bathroom in a dark pantsuit, a windbreaker over one arm. A briefcase and carry-on, already packed, slumped near the door.

  “Do we have time for breakfast?” he asked.

  She checked her phone. “Just. If you get moving.”

  “Hey, all those uniform races paid off. That was just about the most useful thing we ever did at the Academy.” He threw back the covers, and within three minutes they were out the door.

  * * *

  BLAIR studied him over the menu. The night before, in the dark, Dan hadn’t seemed changed. In the daylight he looked terrible. More gray at the temples. His face gaunt, his morning stubble silver too. “You’ve lost weight,” she observed.

  “Fleet’s short on chow,” he muttered, flipping through the entrees. “But I see everybody’s still eating high on the hog here.”

  She frowned. “Are you telling me our forces are going hungry?”

  “I’m sure it’s stockpiled somewhere, but our logistics ship got whacked coming out of Guam. By the time we got back, we were fishing off the fantail.” He beckoned to the waitress, and they ordered.

  “So, it’s off to sea again,” she opened.

  “That’s what they tell me.”

  “I won’t ask where. Because actually, I think I know.”

  “That’s more than I do.” The coffee arrived, and he sucked it down greedily while she ordered an omelet. He asked for the same, kneading his brow. His headache again, probably. When the server left he muttered, “Can you give me any hints, not where we’re headed, but … how all this is going … how it looks from the top.”

  She smiled wryly. “I’m nowhere near the top, Dan.”

  “They censor the news. You must hear something.”

  “Well … you probably know we’ve finished withdrawing from Korea. Actually, Tokyo’s neutral status helped. Without them, we could have been trapped in Pusan. The Taiwanese … General Shucheng is still resisting, in the mountains. That’s no secret.”

  “How long can he hold out? Can we help?”

  She sighed. “That’s the question, all right.”

  “How about the Koreans?”

  “They ceased resistance, but there’s still a South Korea. That was the trade-off. Surrender, and they get to maintain the fiction of sovereignty.” She spread her hands. “Actually, looking at it from Beijing’s point of view, that was Korea’s status for centuries … paying tribute, acknowledging imperial suzerainty. Historically, it’s not that weird.”

  He grunted. “So, back to the Middle Ages?”

  She sighed. “In a way. And, unfortunately, Zhang gets to add their industrial capacity to China’s now.”

  Dan said, “But we still have elements of their fleet with us. Admiral Jung’s refused to recognize the deal.”

  “Min Jun Jung’s status would be a State question. Maybe like de Gaulle, fighting on in some sort of Free Korea framework?” She shrugged and fiddled with her napkin. “Again, remember, Korea was occupied by Japan from 1910 to 1945. A lot of resistance, which the Japanese ruthlessly crushed. There was a government in exile then, too. This is all more complicated than a purely military equation, Dan.”

  A very young woman in Marine greens entered the restaurant, looked around, and homed in on Blair. “Dr. Titus?”

  “Guilty.”

  “I’m your driver, ma’am. We’re due at the airport in half an hour.”

  Dan blinked. Blair had her own car. A military driver. But all she would say about what she was doing was that she was back at DoD.

  The server brought their omelets. Blair grimaced regretfully at hers, drained her coffee with one swallow, and stood, pulling on her jacket. “I gotta … If you’re hungry, eat mine, too.”

  “You don’t have another minute?”

  “No … but.” She glanced sharply at the woman, who caught the look and edged a few paces away. “Uh, there’s something I meant to say last night. But we sort of tangled up in the shower and got too busy to talk. But I need to get it on the table.”

  Dan pushed his own plate away, suddenly not as hungry. “What?”

  “Remember the last time we were together? In Crete. When I said something like … how we needed to think about where we’re going. If we stayed together.”

  He remembered, all right. The near darkness in the ruins. The smell of ancient dust. Lost, like Ariadne and Theseus, in Minos’s ancient Labyrinth. “I remember,” he said slowly. “You mentioned coming up on some kind of decision point.”

  “I think then I was talking about the campaign. If it failed. And it has. So that’s one decision made for me.”

  “All right,” he said, preparing to be hurt. “Get it on the table. You want out?”

  “Out?” She rubbed her mouth. Mirroring, no doubt, his own habitual gesture of uncertainty. Strange, seeing it on her. Her breasts rose and fell under the windbreaker. “No, I guess … war changes everything. When I realized you’d been in that battle, that I might have lost you, it clarified things.

  “If we come through this, let’s think about what comes after. We’re both ambitious. Me maybe the most, but you’ve done more with your career.”

  He frowned. “Not sure I see that, hon.”

  “Well, you’re an admiral. I’m still just a fucking staffer, when it comes down to it.”

  “Actually a very junior admiral, and only for the duration. And you’re selling yourself short. I don’t—”

  “I’m a staffer, Dan. High level, but them’s the facts. I’d like to be a principal someday. To do something right for a change. But, for us … for us, I want a life together. To not be so separate.”

  He nodded. Sometimes you just had to listen. “What exactly would you really like, Blair? What would make you the happiest?”

  “To grow old with you.” She looked away and dashed at her eyes angrily. “Fuck,” she whispered furiously. “Fuck.”

  He tried to take her hand, but she backed away, glancing at the marine. “Anyway, that’s all I had to say. Got to go. Military flight.”

  “I wish you didn’t.”

  “I wish we weren’t at war, Dan.”

  “God. I’ll second that.”

  “And I wish you weren’t going out again.” She swallowed. “I can’t tell you more. I just want to say—I know you won’t listen, but … be careful.”

  They kissed. She started to leave, then turned back on her heel. “Almost forgot. I brought you something.” She dug into her briefcase. Held out a package.

  He turned it over. Book size. Book weight. “A book?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Amazing. Like you have X-ray vision. Now I really gotta run.” She bent, kissed him again. He put his arm up and locked her in an embrace ounces short of a choke hold.

  “I can tell you this,” she whispered, directly into his ear. “The Chinese are planning a second-phase offensive.”

  “Striking where? And we know this, how?”

  “I can’t say. Just … intel. Zhang plans to invade Guam. Suck in our carriers. And sink them. With those off the board, he’ll threaten Hawaii. At that point, he expects us to sue for peace.”

  The marine cleared her throat. Past her, Dan noticed his own aide and driver, Sergeant Gault, with arms folded. The other customers in the restaurant glanced at them, then at Blair and Dan.

  “And will we?” he whispered into his wife’s ear. Not the damaged one, the withered red nub, but the lovely curved one she’d been born with.

  “It’s not going to come to that. We’re going to spoil it all for him. And with that … Dan … let me go. Damn it, I’ve got to go.”

  He released her reluctantly, but their fingers clung. They stood for a moment regarding each other. Memorizing each other’s faces.

  As if it might be the last time.

  Then he set her free, and stood watching until she was out of sight.

  * * *

  SECURITY was tight at the pier. As the guards
examined his ID, then his briefcase, Dan eyed two Burkes and the smooth towering superstructure of a Zumwalt-class destroyer. Douglas Zembiec was assigned to his task force, along with two autonomous, unmanned semisubmersibles developed for the antisubmarine work and radar picket duty that frigates had traditionally done. If only he’d had them for the central Pacific battle …

  The gray cliffs of two nuclear carriers loomed like thunderheads over at North Island. That made five in the Pacific, not counting George Washington, still in Yokosuka. The subject, now, of negotiations between Tokyo and Washington. Nimitz, Vinson, and Reagan were at sea, whereabouts unknown, at least to him. Abraham Lincoln was in Australia. Eisenhower was holding the line in the Middle East. Theodore Roosevelt was in overhaul, and George H. W. Bush, fresh out of the yard, was working up off the Virginia Capes. That made the pair he was looking at Truman and Stennis, though their numbers had been painted out for wartime.

  But this huge of a surge couldn’t be maintained. Once in theater, the carriers had to be used. A push had to be scheduled.

  His new mission would be part of it.

  Of course, he’d already known most of what Blair had whispered. But nothing had been passed by digital means. They had to assume anything that went out over the now partially restored Internet, no matter how tightly encrypted, would be read by one of America’s ring of enemies.

  That mission might trigger a violent response from the unpredictable dictator who dominated what he was styling the Peoples’ Empire. After completing helicopter escape training at Miramar, Dan had rented a car and driven up to visit his daughter. Nan was a microbiologist, in Seattle. He’d warned her to be ready to leave town at short notice.

  If the worst happened, her city would be a prime target.

  The guards paused, discovering a bulky red-and-white-striped envelope marked top secret. They snapped the briefcase closed, saluted, and stepped back. A lieutenant (jg) murmured into a handheld.

  Savo Island’s topheavy-looking superstructure loomed as Dan and Gault hiked down the pier. Hornet, his previous flagship, was still in dry dock over at the BAE yard. After sea trials, Graciadei would be headed to Guam, leading Dan to suspect that an island assault was also in the works.

  “Task Force 76, arriving,” the 1MC announced. Six bells sounded. Dan strode up the brow, wheeled, and saluted the ensign. High on Savo’s mast, a blue flag with one white star unfurled. He faced left and tapped off another to Cheryl Staurulakis and, behind her, Enzweiler, whom he’d fleeted up to take Dudley’s place as chief of staff. “Hello, Cheryl. Fred.”

  “We meet again,” Staurulakis murmured. “Welcome back aboard, Admiral.”

  “Good to be here, Captain.” Her gloved hand clamped on his, but she looked deeply fatigued. Like everyone, this far into the war. He nodded to other familiar faces. It would be strange being back, but no longer as skipper. An embarked admiral was only a rider, as far as his flagship was concerned. He directed its movements, along with those of the rest of his task force; but he wasn’t, strictly speaking, involved beyond that with the crew or wardroom.

  Enzweiler had stripped down Dan’s own staff. Savo couldn’t accommodate the complement he’d had aboard Hornet. Nor did he want all those bodies around, to be honest. “How are we on underway time?” he asked Staurulakis.

  “Casting off at 1600, Admiral. Finishing fueling now.”

  “How’s the vibration aft? You had damage from that Shkval?”

  “The shimmy smoothed out on our way back. We have a new sonar tail. Aside from the engine panel issue, we’re ready for sea.”

  Staurulakis briefed on the loadout as he followed her to the wardroom. Along with Tomahawks, antiair Standards, two cells full of Sparrows, and a reload of Harpoons, the first SM-Xs were aboard. Not just uprated antiair missiles, but fully qualified midphase antimissile interceptors, with longer-thrust boosters, a higher and wider intercept envelope, and two-color infrared seeker heads that guided kinetic-only kill vehicles. “Instead of a fifty percent P-sub-K, we’re looking at seventy percent, with a greater capability against crossing targets. Dr. Soongapurn says—”

  Dan frowned, thought back, but couldn’t recall the name. “Who’s he, again?”

  “It’s a she, from the Missile Defense Agency.”

  He grimaced. “Better than Noblos, I hope.”

  “Absolutely. She’s been a big help updating ALIS. Also, she essentially retrained the Aegis team. We’re a lot smarter now.” The captain opened the door to the embarked flag quarters and stood back. “Again, welcome aboard.”

  “Thank you, Cheryl.” He turned to Enzweiler. “Signal the task force to get under way on schedule. Initial steaming formation as in the op plan. Staff meeting at 1400?”

  “We’ll make it happen, Admiral.”

  * * *

  THIRTY miles out to sea, his staff convened on the mess decks. Screens had been placed to give the impression of privacy, but he already missed Hornet’s capacious conference spaces. This brief was going out to the other units in the force via secure videoteleconferencing, line of sight only, to forestall interception.

  A tall, sallow Korean reached to shake Dan’s hand. “Good afternoon, Admiral.”

  “Min Su Hwang. Good to see you again. How is Admiral Jung? He’s not here?”

  “He will be joining us by teleconference.”

  Dan felt guilty. “I wish our last battle together turned out better for you. The losses, I mean. Your crews were taken care of properly? The survivors?”

  “Yes, sir. Also, we are bringing a new ship into service. A Freedom-class frigate named New Jeonnam. We will man it under the flag of Free Korea. I am to serve as your liaison again for this operation, if that is agreeable to you.”

  “Of course, very glad to have you.” Dan waved to a chair beside him. Cheryl Staurulakis, as his flag captain, stood on the other side. “Seats, everyone,” he said, and promptly slid down to a backbone-testing slouch.

  The already-distributed half of the op order, on white paper, covered the sortie and the steaming formation, transiting to a point east of Guam. The red-edged top secret addendum Enzweiler was passing out now, though, gave their final destination. Dan shifted in his chair, not looking forward to yet another meeting. It had been death by briefing for the last week, at North Island and San Diego. Conference after conference to hammer out schedules and tables of loading, force commitments and logistic support with representatives from Air Forces Pacific, PacFleet, the Army component command, and the various foreign contingents.

  The meteorological presentation led off. Spring in the western Pacific looked calm. They could expect moderate winds and moderate seas, though a system might develop later.

  Qazi Jamail began the intel presentation. Signals intelligence pointed to a second phase of Chinese offensive operations. Targeting Saipan and Guam, this would present PaCom with a hard choice. If he responded in force to defend the islands, the carriers could be sunk the same way the FDR battle group had gone down. If they didn’t respond, occupation forces would land, preparing for the next move across the Go board. Against Wake, Midway, or Hawaii itself. The expectation being that at that point, Washington would sue for peace, as Manila, Seoul, and Tokyo already had.

  Dan tented his hands, not liking the way the dominoes were falling.

  At some point, they had to glue one to the table.

  Jamail want on. “We have some advantages this time. First, our nanosatellites are up, giving at least limited surveillance capability. We also have low-baud-rate satcomm. As an operating base and fallback position, Guam has been hardened over the past months. Uprated THAAD batteries provide antimissile coverage, which Savo will reinforce when we get into range.

  “Adversary forces: Our submarines have taken a heavy toll, but Opposed shipyards are working at full capacity. Imagery shows them building and repairing amphibious ships and destroyers and bringing two more indigenously-constructed carriers online. The main threat, however, is submarine and air, and as we nea
r the mainland, a robust suite of area-denial missiles. Batteries are emplaced in Taiwan, Okinawa, Itbayat in the northern Philippines, and in a ring to the southward, to Woody and Hainan Islands. Other enemy forces as per Annex B of the op order.”

  The N2 took his seat, and Enzweiler, Dan’s new deputy, brought up a slide of the western Pacific. “Operation Recoil will be a major carrier strike on the Empire naval base at Ningbo, near Shanghai. Home of the Eastern Fleet and surrounded by a ring of air bases, Ningbo supports combat operations in the Ryukyus and Taiwan.

  “If we take out that staging area, we disrupt the second-phase offensive Admiral Lianfeng is planning. This task force will be the advance element of the strike. We will sweep for subs and attract air and missile responses, so enemy assets can be identified and degraded before the carriers come within range. Then, our remaining elements will cover the carrier groups as they launch their strikes on the mainland.

  “Operation Recoil constitutes the northern half of a two-pronged attack. Simultaneously with it, the Marines will land to take Itbayat Island, to the south of Taiwan. This invasion is code-named ‘Operation Mandible.’”

  As the briefing proceeded, Dan reflected on how Task Force 76 had grown from the stripped-down hunter-killer force he’d taken into the central Pacific. Along with Savo and a second ABM-capable cruiser, Hampton Roads, he had four destroyers, Kristensen, McClung, Stockdale, and the newest, Zembiec, along with with Jung’s destroyers and frigates. He had two submarines now, Farncomb, the Australian boat, and USS Montpelier, newly redeployed from the Atlantic Fleet.

  Since most of the Pacific Fleet’s tankers and tenders had been lost, he would be meeting a Chilean replenishment ship, Almirante Montt. And in place of Hornet, USS Gambier Bay was transiting from Seattle to join up on the way west.

  He’d toured the latter ship in the yard while the conversion was under way. The idea of converting merchant ships to makeshift carriers had been around for a long time. In fact, the very first carriers had been hastily altered merchants, and escort or “jeep” carriers had performed yeoman service in World War II.