Yuri signaled his confusion. “How’s that possible?”
“It’s all under the national security umbrella.”
“You mean me.”
“Yep.”
Yuri exhaled an audible breath.
Michaela smiled, “This should come as a relief to both you and Laura.”
“It does…thank you.”
* * * *
It was Dr. Meng Park’s first dive in a submersible. The Xiu Shan cruised twenty feet above the mud bottom. The three person submarine was 5,550 feet below the surface, heading northward at three knots. Floodlights illuminated the seabed and surrounding water column in the otherwise perpetual darkness of the deep.
“This is just unbelievable,” Meng muttered as she took in the 3-D bubble view.
“Indeed,” Captain Zhou said.
Meng was in the starboard seat of the cockpit. Captain Zhou claimed the port station. The pilot manned the aft control console behind the passengers. All three wore blue jumpsuits. A transparent acrylic sphere, just over six feet in diameter, encapsulated the trio. Located behind the pilot’s station were the submersible’s electronics and life support systems. A top opening hatch placed at the peak of the orb above the pilot’s seat allowed crew ingress and egress. Two articulated robotic arms were appended to the forward end of the steel frame that supported the pressure sphere.
Attached to the aft end of the plastic bubble was a tapered, hydraulic slick fiberglass fairing that extended ten feet in length. The service module housed the minisub’s ballast chambers, compressed air and oxygen tanks, and battery compartment. At the base of the module was a compartment containing two hundred kilos of lead shot. In an emergency, the ballast could be jettisoned, allowing the sub to ascend without the need for expelling seawater from ballast tanks.
Launched six months earlier, the Xiu Shan—Elegant Coral—was China’s latest class of deep diving research vessels. Rated for 2,000 meters—about 6,500 feet, the Xiu Shan’s hull had a sleeker profile than its predecessors. Sacrificing extreme deep diving capability for endurance, the Xiu Shan could cruise at four knots continuously for twenty-four hours.
“Captain, the search sonar has just picked up something,” reported the pilot. The twenty-six-year-old was a lieutenant in the PLAN. He was one of two dozen young officers handpicked by senior staff to command China’s growing fleet of manned submersibles.
“What’s the range?”
“Sixty meters. Should be coming into view soon.”
The Xiu Shan had descended eighty minutes earlier after it launched from the support ship Lian. The bottom search commenced from the coordinates of the attack on the American submarine—roughly 154 nautical miles east of Sanya. The submersible made two tracks along the planned survey route before the Xiu Shan’s sonar registered return echo’s from its ranging pulses.
“Target in sight!” announced the pilot.
Meng Park shifted forward in her bucket seat. “I see it!”
The Xiu Shan hovered over the eighteen-foot length of Viperina Five. The remnant of the one-foot diameter weapon was strung out along the sea floor; it had the appearance of a utility pipe.
“Could the charges still be primed?” asked Captain Zhou.
A two-kilogram shaped charge was positioned about every foot and a half along the length of the Viperinas. Designed to blast through high tensile steel pressure hulls of U.S. subs, the shockwave from a detonation now could crack Xiu Shan’s synthetic polymer sphere like an egg shell.
“No, it should be safe,” Dr. Meng answered. “The charges were designed to detonate simultaneously. This is the tail end of the unit. The trigger signal would have been issued from the CPU. A fault in the wiring may have caused the misfire.”
“So, it’s okay if we recover it?” Zhou asked.
“Absolutely. This is exactly what I was hoping for. I can run diagnostics on it to determine what happened.”
Captain Zhou addressed the pilot. “Lieutenant, go ahead and retrieve the unit.”
“Aye aye, Captain.
It took the Xiu Shan almost two hours to ascend. When it broke through the sea surface, the remains of Viper Five were wrapped around the submersible’s starboard articulated mechanical arm.
Chapter 28
Yuri and Laura lunched at the conference table in Laura’s office. Yuri stopped at a nearby deli before taking the elevator to the 25th floor of Cognition Consultants. It was an impromptu encounter. After meeting with Special Agent Michaela Taylor, Yuri called Laura to tell her he was bringing sandwiches.
“Ummm, this is delicious,” Laura said after taking another bite from the club sandwich.
Yuri grinned. “I thought you might like it.” He munched on the same. If he were alone, however, he would have picked up a juicy, fully decked out cheeseburger at Red Robin.
Laura dabbed her lips with a paper napkin, wiping away a smear of mayonnaise. “So, how did your meeting with the FBI go?”
Yuri took a swig from one of the flavored water bottles he brought. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
Laura’s heart rate soared. She sensed trouble. “Are they hassling you again?”
“No, actually it’s good news—for both of us.” He took another gulp of water. “I think the issues regarding Sarah Compton are going away.”
Astounded, Laura said, “How?”
Yuri spent the next five minutes summarizing the legal maneuvers.
“That’s terrific news,” Laura said, visibly relieved. “I’ve been worrying about having to testify at a hearing.”
“You can stop worrying.” Laura smiled but Yuri noticed her furrowed brow. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I still can’t get over what they did to Sarah…because of me.”
Yuri reached across the table and clasped Laura’s right hand. “It was not your fault. The men that abducted you and Maddy and took Sarah were military—a special ops team operating inside the U.S. under the control of Kwan Chi. That’s what the FBI finally concluded. We could never have stopped them on our own. Sarah was nothing to them.”
“I should have left town like you asked me.”
“Please stop beating yourself up about what happened. We know who was responsible.”
“I know, thank you.”
Yuri released Laura’s hand. “It’s going to be okay.”
Laura reached for her water bottle and took a swallow. “I am relieved that the FBI is following through like they said they would. That’s a comforting sign to me that maybe this nightmare is coming to an end.”
“I agree.”
After another bite from her sandwich she asked, “What else did Taylor have to say?”
Yuri had fretted about what was to come next. “They want me to visit Pearl Harbor again.”
“When?”
“I have to fly out tomorrow morning.”
Clearly agitated, Laura planted her elbows on the table and grasped her hands. “What do they want from you?”
“Attend a meeting. I’m being brought in as a technical consultant. They’re even going to pay me through NSD!”
“What—how can they do that?”
“It’s an extension to the oil spill monitoring contract we have with the Coast Guard.”
Laura wasn’t buying it. “Yuri, what’s really going on?”
“It’s part of my cover. More trouble with China…the U.S. Navy needs my help.”
Chapter 29
Day 23—Thursday
The Alaska Airlines 737 arrived at Honolulu International a few minutes before noon. TSA was a breeze for Yuri Kirov back at Seattle-Tacoma Airport. The freshly issued Washington State Enhanced Driver’s License he presented to the Transportation Security Administration agent during the passenger screening process was accepted without question.
Yuri no lo
nger feared checkpoints by the feds or even a traffic ticket. As promised, the FBI legitimized the alias that Yuri had used when he illegally entered the United States two years earlier. John Kirkwood’s legend would now survive a thorough ID check. He had a Social Security number, birth certificate, work history that included FICA tax payments, and ten years of postdated federal tax returns.
Yuri rented a Ford Explorer at Hertz and drove straight to Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam. He was issued a visitor’s pass at the main gate and directed to park the SUV in an adjacent lot. A female enlisted sailor driving an official U.S. Navy sedan delivered Yuri to his destination.
The building was nondescript. A sign displaying a base building number was the only identifying mark on the two story structure. Yuri was met by a Marine assigned to secure the building’s entrance. The Lance Corporal was all business, and he was armed—a pistol holstered on his right hip. He examined Yuri’s pass as well as his driver’s license. Yuri was directed to take a seat in one of the half dozen lobby chairs.
Within a minute, Yuri’s contact strode into the lobby―a naval officer known to Yuri.
“Good afternoon Yur—John,” said the Navy captain, suppressing a smirk as he caught himself just in time. The Marine was not in the loop regarding Yuri’s true identity.
“Hello, Captain,” Yuri said as he stood up.
Captain Robert Clark was in uniform―khaki button up shirt and trousers. “Any problems getting here?” Clark asked.
“No. Everything’s cool.”
“Good. Let’s go to the conference room. The others are already here.”
Yuri followed the naval officer as he led the way through a series of hallways and doors.
The first floor conference room was twenty feet square and windowless. Three males were seated at the table. One was in service khakis with a Commander insignia pin on his shirt collar. The other two occupants in the room wore civilian attire. Yuri recognized one of the pair.
“Hello,” Yuri said.
“Good to see you again,” said CIA officer Steve Osberg.
Yuri and Osberg shook hands. Osberg was about to introduce Yuri to the other civilian when he said, “Is Yuri okay or should I use your nom de plume?”
“Whatever you like.”
“Great.” Osberg gestured toward his companion. “Yuri Kirov, former Captain-Lieutenant in the Russian Navy, aka John Kirkwood, I’m pleased to introduce you to Jeffrey Chang. Jeff is from Langley, National Clandestine Service, Asia Desk.”
Yuri gripped Chang’s outstretched hand—a firm clasp. Chang was tall, almost Yuri’s height but his build was slender. His black hair flowed over his ears and grazed the collar of his shirt. Like Yuri, Chang was in his early thirties.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, sir.” Chang said. “We’re all indebted to what you did here…at Pearl.” There was no hint of an Asian accent.”
“Thanks.
Captain Clark next introduced Yuri to Commander Scott Arnold. After the handshake, Clark said, “Scott is the reason we’re all gathered here today. He’s the skipper of the USS Tucson―a Los Angeles class attack sub. I’m sure you’re familiar with the class.”
“Of course.”
Clark said, “Last week, the Tucson tangled with something that damn near sank it in the South China Sea offshore of Hainan Island.”
Yuri knew instantly why he was summoned to Pearl Harbor.
Captain Clark turned to Arnold. “Commander, please provide us with a rundown of what happened.”
* * * *
Commander Arnold’s accounting took twenty minutes. It was currently Q & A. Yuri held an eight by ten color photograph of the damage to Tucson’s sail. A dozen other prints were scattered around the table.
Yuri looked up, catching Arnold’s eyes. “Commander, what are these marks along the aft section of the fin?” He pointed to the blemish on the photo.
“Deep cuts through the anechoic coating into the steel, almost like claw scratches.”
“Hmmm,” Yuri murmured.
Arnold pulled up his briefcase from the floor and set it on the conference table. He opened the case and removed a file folder filled with additional photos. He extracted a print and gave it to Yuri. “Here’s a blowup of the area.”
Yuri examined the damage. He glanced back at Arnold. “It must use some type of grapple to attach itself to the target.”
“I agree. Very perceptive.”
Yuri passed the photo to Jeff Chang and addressed Arnold. “Any idea on the length of the weapon?”
“At least twenty feet based on the damage to the fairwater, maybe a lot longer.”
“So, it can wrap itself around the object it’s attacking before detonating, like a boa constrictor coiled around its prey?”
“Maybe…a snake, yeah that does make sense. Its body has spikes that can grip metal to hang on with.”
Yuri fought back a yawn. “I remember attending a seminar at the academy in Saint Petersburg several years ago on future ASW weapon systems. A concept design of a linear sea mine was presented. It was three or four meters long. It would attach itself to a sub’s hull using magnets. When the line charge detonated, it would rip open the pressure casing like a can opener.”
Yuri’s story captured Captain Clark’s interest. “Was the system developed by Russia?”
“No. In fact, the concept was downplayed at the seminar. Propulsion was the problem. The designers planned to tow the unit to the target area with an AUV, but noise from the AUV’s propellers would likely be picked up by the target sub’s sonar before the mine ever got close.”
Clark turned toward Arnold. “Commander, that’s a good lead in for the recording.”
“Yes sir.” Arnold grabbed a digital recorder from his briefcase and placed it on the table. “This is a recording from Tucson’s passive sonar prior to the attack. It’s the only warning that we had.” Arnold engaged the recorder’s playback mode.
Yuri listened to the faint swishing tone, puzzled. The alien sound increased slightly but as Tucson began to accelerate to evade the approaching sonar contact, hydraulic drag on the sub’s hull and noise from the churning propeller drowned out the signal.
Yuri scratched an ear as he processed the recording.
Arnold kicked off the discussion, eyeing Yuri. “I think you’ll agree that doesn’t sound like a conventional AUV. It’s not even close.”
Yuri said, “Assuming that signal was produced from the machine that attacked your boat, it was not propeller driven.”
Tucson’s CO said, “I’m thinking it was some type of water jet.”
“Maybe, but the jet pump would have to be super powerful to match the speed of the boat.” Yuri clutched his hands. “Going back to the boa constrictor model. If the machine somehow managed to use its body to produce S shaped movements—serpentine oscillations—that might produce a similar sound print.”
“Slither through the water like a snake!”
“Exactly.”
* * * *
After a ten minute bathroom break, the meeting reconvened. Steve Osberg took over with a PowerPoint presentation. The first slide projected onto the wall-mounted screen was a high altitude color aerial view of China’s Hainan Island. Located at the PRC’s southern limit, the 12,800 square mile island bordered the South China Sea and the Gulf of Tonkin.
Here it comes, Yuri thought.
Osberg said, “As all of you know, the PLAN has been busy along the south coast of Hainan Island.” The next slide displayed a bird’s eye view of the shoreline. “The Yulin Naval Base is located here. This image was taken yesterday.” The CIA officer used a laser pointer to highlight the naval station and turned Yuri’s way. “Our colleague has firsthand knowledge of this particular facility. Yuri, would you care to comment?”
Yuri cleared his throat. “Impressive facility. Two huge quays
for berthing a variety of warships.”
Osberg highlighted the piers with the laser. Two aircraft carriers, dozens of frigates, destroyers, and assorted other military craft lined the docks.
Yuri said, “Besides surface vessels, the base has four piers for submarines, attack and ballistic missile boats.” Osberg lased the moorage along the harbor’s eastern shore. Half a dozen long and narrow black forms were visible next to the docks.
“Yulin has another highly unusual feature,” Yuri said. Osberg pointed to an indentation in the shoreline about half a mile south of the moored subs. Yuri resumed, “That’s the entrance to a half submerged tunnel that leads to a massive underground sub facility. It was carved out of solid rock. The Chinese use the cavern to service and hide their missile boats. Boomers as you call them.”
Steve Osberg took over, addressing Commander Arnold. “I’m sure you were aware of the underground sub pens at Yulin.”
“Heard about it. They also have another one in the north.”
“That’s right, at Jianggezhuang near Qingdao.”
Arnold said, “The Chinese are tight lipped about ’em, especially the new one at Yulin. Would be interesting to know just what they’re doing inside those caverns.”
Osberg grinned. “Well, thanks to Yuri we now know what’s going on inside Yulin.”
That revelation caught Commander Arnold off guard. He frowned.
A new slide with a video link materialized. Osberg clicked on the arrow and an image of a vast underground chamber filled the screen. Three low lying black hulled behemoths moored to piers were in the foreground.
Osberg said, “Yuri managed to sneak a mini drone through the tunnel into the complex.”
The Vigilant Spy Page 13
