Guarding Savage

by Edlund, Dave;

  Although all the SGIT operators were expert in a wide range of small arms, Sergeant Jesper Mortensen was considered the most skilled at long range sniping. He favored the .50 caliber M107 semiautomatic rifle, and held the official record for longest and second longest confirmed kill—a record still classified. Jesper, call sign Homer, was also a lady-killer with a ruggedly handsome appearance, hair that was just a shade lighter than coal-black, and cobalt-blue eyes.

  Jerry Balvanz was the newest member of the team. Like Homer, he was recruited from the army, Delta Force. Jerry was tall and lanky, yet lightning fast and strong. Prior to signing up, he’d played college basketball for two seasons and still loved to shoot hoops in his down time. With a head of snow-white, curly hair, he’d been given the call sign Iceberg.

  With Jim as the squad leader—call sign Boss Man—the team was at mission strength: six highly-trained and extremely lethal special forces operators. Whatever the mission was, or might be, they were ready.

  Colonel Pierson was participating via video conferencing, so he could also see the map images that were the focus of the discussion.

  Mark Williams zoomed in on a section of the Spratly Island chain as he talked. “Due to the limited data we have from the first attack that sank the Izumo, calculating the initial phase of the trajectory is uncertain. Consequently, the probable launch-location radius is seventy-five miles and centered approximately thirty-five nautical miles south of Alison Reef.

  “The missile used in the second attack was tracked for a much longer time by the E-3 Sentry early warning aircraft that was participating in the annual Balikatan exercise. From the flight path, we have worked out a probably launch location here…” Williams pointed to a location on the map very near Sand Cay. “The second missile was fired within a radius of thirty nautical miles of this location.”

  “There’s a lot of ocean and a dozen or more islands within those launch locations,” Pierson said. There was no hint of patience in his voice.

  “We’ve eliminated the possibility that the missiles were fired from any land mass,” Lacey said. “First, there is nothing in the satellite imagery that suggests launch facilities exist on any island within the probable launch radius of either missile. Second, none of these islands have been improved in any way by China or any other country.”

  “Could they have underground facilities?”

  “No, sir,” Jim said. He wanted to get the discussion back on track and following his agenda. “As the Lieutenant said, there is no evidence for improvements on any of these islands, and even if somehow our satellites missed it, which is extremely unlikely, the complexity of an underground ballistic missile launch facility on an island about the size of a Walmart parking lot—”

  “If that big,” Lacey interrupted.

  “Right. Sir, these specks of land range from the size of a tennis court to a large parking lot. Water infiltration and shifting sand and coral would present enormous engineering obstacles. And when you factor in that there is no visible evidence of any hypothetical improvements, well, I think everyone at the table would say it’s impossible.”

  “Very well. Continue.”

  “At first, we concluded the missiles had to have been fired from one or more submarines. Both North Korea and China have such capability. However, despite laying thousands of sonobuoys in the choke points in and around the Spratly Islands, the Navy reports no contact from submarines of other nationality. And mind you, the North Korean boats are noisy, as are the Chinese missile boats. So it’s unlikely that we simply missed them.”

  “My information says the Navy is still laying sonobuoys, Commander.”

  “Yes, sir, they are. But as of this time, no contact with foreign boats has been made.”

  “And you have an alternative theory?”

  “Yes, sir, we do.” Jim motioned to Williams to advance to the next slide. It was a file photo of the Royal Seeker.

  “Colonel, this is an oil exploration ship, under ownership of Hua Ho Holdings, a company based in Bandar Seri Begawan.”

  “Brunei? You’re not going to suggest that the Sultan of Brunei is attacking U.S. and Japanese naval vessels, are you?”

  “No, sir. We have no evidence to support such a hypothesis. But we do think this ship is significant.”

  Jim pointed to Williams, who advanced to the next slide. “This is a rendering of how an oil exploration ship might look if it was adapted to fire a missile, such as a medium-range ballistic missile. You can see that the missile would fall short of the towers. And the crane has adequate height to install a customized warhead atop the second-stage rocket engine.”

  “Multiple rocket stages and warheads could be easily stored below deck,” Williams added, “and then assembled at the tower prior to launching.”

  “Interesting. But why this ship in particular? What does Hua Ho Holdings have to say?”

  “We’ve not contacted them officially, not yet.”

  “Excuse me? I know you better than that. You have something you’re not telling me, some reason to back your theory that you haven’t shared yet.”

  Jim knew Colonel Pierson well, and wasn’t surprised by his deductive reasoning. In some ways, the Colonel was like a father figure to Jim and the entire team. He was protective of the members of SGIT—he felt pride and responsibility in founding the organization and leading the selection of what he considered to be the finest and most talented operators and analysts anywhere. “We stumbled on this, sir. And it may involve the abduction of a member of the Sultan’s extended family. But in the interest of time, if I may, I’d like to stay focused on the missiles.”

  “Understood. Continue.”

  “The Royal Seeker has been missing, her transponder deactivated.” Jim motioned to Lacey to continue.

  “I ran a simple search routine through MOTHER. We analyzed daily satellite imagery going back to the first of August, prior to the deactivation of the ship’s transponder. Once we established that we could identify the ship by its satellite image—we did this by cross-checking the transponder readings from early August with the high-resolution images of the ship—it was easy to track the daily movements of the ship.”

  Another map of the Spratly Islands appeared on the monitor, only this one had a red line indicating a course taken by a surface vessel. “This is the movement of the Royal Seeker. The date is indicated next to each position point.”

  There was a stir around the conference table as the assembled analysts and operators saw the data for the first time. “As you can see, on the date of each attack, the Royal Seeker was within ninety nautical miles of the probable launch point.”

  “Brilliant work,” Pierson said. “But, there’s something more. Something you’re holding back.”

  Jim moved his gaze around the room, making a point of connecting with each and every member of the team. Then he nodded to Williams, and the last slide appeared. “The catch is that the Royal Seeker is not the only oil exploration ship sailing these waters. As you can see, MOTHER matched three other ships to the visual profile of the Royal Seeker. By cross referencing the tracking transponder of the three new suspect ships, we’ve obtained an ID on them.”

  “How did we get that information?” Bull asked.

  “MOTHER. She accessed the databases of every oil exploration company known to be active in these waters.”

  Bull let out a low whistle, amazed at the data processing speed of the super computer.

  Jim continued, “The daily paths of all four ships are shown by the dashed lines on this map.”

  The charted sailing route of each of the four ships, including the one previously labeled as the Royal Seeker, crisscrossed a very large section of water, from the Gulf of Thailand east and north to the Philippine Sea.

  “Two of the candidate targets were more than 200 miles away from both launch origins at the time the missiles were fired.” Jim stood before the wall-mounted flat screen and used a stylus to circle the location of the two ships he had refer
enced. He continued, “For that reason those candidates are eliminated. Mark, erase those traces, please.”

  Williams made some keystrokes and two of the four dashed lines disappeared from the map.

  “But that means there are two ships that could have been the missile launch platform. One is the Royal Seeker. The other ship is the Panda Star. It’s owned and operated by Sinopec. Both ships are sailing in the South China Sea, within the disputed islands.”

  Silence befell the room and Colonel Pierson as the conclusion sank in. Finally, Pierson was the first to speak. “You’re telling me the Panda Star operates under the Chinese flag. That certainly complicates the planning.”

  Jim exhaled. “Yes, sir, it does.”

  “Excuse me,” Iceberg said. He leaned forward over the edge of the conference table and waited acknowledgement.

  When Jim nodded in his direction, he continued, “We can take one target simultaneous with an assault of the other. We’ve trained for this type of mission with the SEALs, a coordinated assault on separate targets.”

  “Not this time,” Lacey replied before Jim could explain. “The entire South China Sea is ready to explode. The exchange yesterday between U.S. and Chinese forces very nearly escalated into a much bigger conflict. Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed, and both sides disengaged before it got out of control. But, in order to avoid an accidental war, the President has ordered all U.S. military units to stay out of the South China Sea—for now.”

  “What about my team, Colonel?”

  “That includes SGIT. The President doesn’t want a war—hell, none of us do.”

  “There’s no way Sinopec is going to allow inspection of the Panda Star,” Lacey said.

  Jim quickly added. “She’s right, sir. This new theory only serves to further implicate China. It is imperative that we get onboard both ships to conduct an inspection. If missiles have been fired from the deck, there should be observable signs of scorching. And if rocket motors and warheads are onboard, they need to be confiscated.”

  “I’m not arguing against your logic, Commander. But I have my orders. Can we learn anything more from satellite imagery? As you said, there will be evidence of heat on the tower and perhaps elsewhere on the surrounding deck if missiles were launched.”

  Jim cast a questioning glance to Mark Williams. “We can try, sir, but I’m not optimistic. Sunlight playing across the grid-work of steel in the towers will create a complex pattern of light and dark. Plus, the crew could have applied paint to cover up any evidence of extreme temperature blistering or burning away older paint.”

  “So we predict negative results from the satellite data won’t be conclusive, which means it’s a waste of time.”

  “Drones?” Colonel Pierson asked.

  Lacey shook her head. “Same problem, unless we get them in close, very close. And even then a negative result won’t be conclusive.”

  “If I were a crewmember,” Iceberg said, “and a drone came close snapping photos, I’d shoot it down.”

  “Wouldn’t that give us confirmation that the ship was up to no good?” Bull asked, speaking for the first time since the meeting began.

  “Maybe,” Lacey replied. “But given the tense situation between China and the U.S., flying drones close to a Chinese-flagged ship, even though it is not a military ship, is certain to be viewed as provocative and will only escalate the tension.”

  Jim knew that there were limitations to data gathering from machines. Every now and then there was no substitute for having people on the ground, so to speak. Only in this instance, trained people needed to be on each ship in order to determine which one was responsible for sinking two warships. In Jim’s mind, there was no doubt that it had to be either the Royal Seeker or the Panda Star. Knowing the truth would either exonerate China or provide the compelling evidence to declare war. “Colonel, this is exactly the type of mission SGIT was made for. And if anyone can pull it off, it’s the men and women in this room.”

  “The administration will have to have plausible deniability. Can you guarantee that?”

  Jim swept his eyes from face to face. What he saw was confidence and determination. “Affirmative, sir.”

  Silence settled across the conference room as Jim awaited orders.

  “Commander. Assemble your team. I want you in the air within ninety minutes, sooner if you can do it. You’re flying to the South China Sea. I’ll get authorization from the President while you’re en route.”

  Chapter 20

  Bandar Seri Begawan, Brunei

  August 25

  Peter was in the patio garden when Jim called. “We are able to track the Royal Seeker,” he’d reported without offering explanation.

  “That’s great news! Thank you. It’s the first break we’ve had. I’ll let Eu-Meh know. Is the ship within helicopter range of BSB?”

  “As of thirty minutes ago, yes. It seems to be staying in the Spratly Islands, not far off the coast of Brunei. I’ll have Sanchez coordinate the tracking with you. For security reasons, we cannot allow a direct sharing of data from MOTHER to a civilian computer.”

  “That doesn’t present any problems. I’d imagine Eu-Meh will have a security detail travel with her to the vessel. Hopefully, her daughter is there. Or at least we’ll find more clues as to where Jade is being held.”

  “I’m afraid this is bigger than the girl’s kidnapping.”

  “What do you mean?” Peter said. “I contacted you, remember?”

  Jim sighed, debating how much to share with Peter. True, they had completed many missions together—all of them classified to a large degree. Yet Peter had no affiliation with the military or intelligence agencies. Quite simply, he was a man with a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe that was the right place at the right time, if you were looking at the mission results.

  Although the rules were quite strict—information would be shared on a need-to-know basis, and even then, only if proper security clearances had been issued—leaving Peter in the dark could easily be counterproductive. He was the only trusted person on the ground within 500 miles of the two suspect exploration ships. In the end, the need for human intelligence trumped all the other reservations Jim had.

  Jim answered, “You did, thankfully. And right now, I’ll take luck over skill.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard about the tense situation developing in the South China Sea.”

  “Who hasn’t? Two warships sunk, and the U.S. and China squaring off for a fight. But what does this have to do with finding Jade?”

  “Maybe nothing—maybe everything. Do you have encryption software on your phone?”

  “I do. Lieutenant Lacey convinced me to install a commercial app. Not as good as what you have, but better than nothing.” Peter shared the name of the software.

  “Okay. I’ll activate the same app and call you right back.” Less than a minute later, Peter’s phone rang.

  “What I am about to tell you,” Jim said, “is classified top secret. This information has the highest security rating and is not to be shared with anyone. Understood?”

  Peter dropped onto a bench surrounded by an acre of lawn. Branches of a flowering magnolia hung over his head, filtering the bright sunlight. It was early morning, and the temperature had not yet risen to a level of discomfort. Diesel was meandering aimlessly, his nose to the lawn, following a trail of interesting scents, never ranging too far from his master and companion.

  “Yes, I understand.”

  Over the next five minutes, Jim filled Peter in on the risks, the difficulty of executing the plan, and the dangers of sparking a war with China. Still, the source of the missile launchings had to be found and neutralized, and the only two leads were a ballistic-missile submarine or a surface vessel of the likes of the Royal Seeker and Panda Star.

  “It is vitally important that both ships be boarded and taken under control simultaneously. At this time, we cannot be certai
n that only one ship is launching those missiles—it could be that both are working in unison. If we don’t time this operation precisely and a radio warning is sent, one ship could destroy any evidence and slip away.”

  “If that happens, the danger isn’t eliminated and war ensues.”

  “Yes. That’s the assessment of Lieutenant Lacey and her team.”

  “What do you need me to do?” Peter asked, genuine concern in his voice.

  “I need for you to convince Eu-meh Lim to board the Royal Seeker with an assault force drawn from the Brunei Special Combat Squadron.”

  s

  After a brief phone call that left Eu-meh with many more questions than answers, she agreed to speak with the Crown Prince, who had authority over all of the Brunei military, and relay Peter’s request for the assault team to be drawn from the Brunei Land Forces special ops soldiers. “Under the circumstances, I am confident he will cooperate,” she concluded.

  “Thank you. It would be best if I could speak directly to the commander of the assault team. I’m certain he will want more information, and I can put him in contact with the appropriate intelligence officer. Naturally, this operation is classified. But given the importance, I’ve been assured that sufficient information will be provided to enable the commander to adequately plan this mission.”

  Peter thought he heard a measure of hope in Eu-meh’s voice. She had steadfastly refused to believe that any serious harm had come to her only child. Yet with every passing day and no breakthrough, no useful clues, she found her optimism diminishing.

  “Come on, Diesel.” We’d better brief Robert. He needs to know, too.

  Back inside the air-conditioned comfort of the guest apartment, Robert was in the billiard room pacing before the fireplace. He ended his phone call as Peter entered the room.

  “That was Eu-meh,” he said. “She said we have a way to find the Royal Seeker?” Although Eu-meh had repeated the essential parts of the phone call she had just completed with Peter, Robert decided to see how freely Peter would share that information.