The Tiger and the Dragon

by Stephen Makk

  “SIR, MULTIPLE SURFACE targets to the south, range 50 miles.”

  “Any subsurface contacts?”

  “No sir but we are below a layer, if we can come above, I can listen for any.”

  “Planes, trim for ascent come to one five zero meters.”

  “One five zero Sir.” The boat rose up to four hundred and fifty feet, the sonar operator listened. “No subsurface contacts sir.”

  “Fine, they’re probably all to the south of the fleet. Weapons, designate targets as you see fit, east side bias, prioritise sinking ships not causing damage.

  Planes, trim for ascent, come to periscope depth.” The boat sloped upward to the bow, after long seconds it came level.

  “Periscope depth sir.”

  The Weapons Officer looked at the Captain and nodded. “Flooding all six tubes, outer doors open, launch tube one, surface, motor hot, the bird is in the air.

  Launch tube two, surface, motor hot, the bird is in the air.” The control room voices were piped throughout the boat. As each missile flew to its target the whole crew raised their arms and shouted their war cry. Soon all six Harpoon missiles would be rushing in towards their targets. Benevolent Dragon had struck the first blow of operation Black Swan.

  “Sir, I have sounds from the west consistent with White Dragon launching her birds.”

  “Weapons, load tubes one to four with type 89 fish, five and six with Harpoon. Planes, come about, speed 14 knots, trim for descent, make your depth one hundred meters.

  USS STONEWALL JACKSON.

  ALL THE CREW KNEW IT was nearly time. It was D day, H hour. The boat had come to periscope depth. Nathan looked at his wrist, the Omega Seamaster indicated two minutes to go.

  “Benson. Sitrep on the enemy.”

  “We have major surface combatants from 66 miles range and northwards. Subsurface, I have faint traces of two contacts beyond 45 miles sir, no classification yet but suspected SSN’s.”

  “Weaps, flood all tubes and open outer doors.”

  “Sir.”

  Let’s hope the Air Force boys have their shit together tonight, he watched the seconds tick down. That’s it, H hour.

  “Weaps, launch tubes one through six.”

  “Launch tube one. On surface, bird is in the air, she’s off.”

  “Launch tube two. On surface, bird is in the air.”

  All six missiles were flying at low level, bound for the Chinese fleet.

  “Weaps, ready VPM tubes one and two.” The Weapons Officer’s fingers flew over the screen surface.

  There were seven dispensers, in each VPM tube. Each would rise to the surface. The cap would blow off, and a Tomahawk BGN-109 cruise missile’s motor would ignite, and the bird would fly. The warheads were 1,600 pound HE-FRAG round or 166 BLU 97/B bomblets. The Tomahawks, or TLAMs would fly in from unlikely directions.

  “Tubes now ready in all respects, they’re ready sir.”

  “Launch Weaps, go, go, go.” From aft came a faint whooshing sound. “On the surface, reports launch, good burn. Motor in, wings deployed, gaining altitude. People, we have a bird.”

  One by one they rose to the surface, ignited their motors and soared into the night.

  Benson spoke out. “Sir, twelve miles out to port, Bellerophon’s launching her birds and ten miles to starboard Suffren is launching hers.”

  Nathan knew that Bellerophon would be launching Harpoon and Tomahawk too.

  Suffren would launch her Exocet SM39 sea skimming missiles, the equivalent of the Harpoon.

  She’d also launch, her SCALP Naval missiles, cruise missiles with a 620 miles range.

  MINUTES EARLIER, WEST of The Philippines over the South China Sea, the B52’s “Betty, Bang Bang” along with “Eat this boys,” “Hard rain’s a comin,” and others approached.

  “Coming up on release, Billbo,” said the Weapons systems Officer, aircraft commander of Hard rain’s a comin, “we’ve shit ready to drop.”

  “Keeping her steady WSO.”

  “How’s the threat board McGary?”

  “All clear, this far south,” said the Electronic Warfare Officer.

  “Ok, running in, Bombay doors open, master arm on, Tomahawk armed, JAASM armed, running in, hold. Bombs away,” He watched the display as the motors kicked in.

  “Tomahawk and JAASM all lit and cooking, we have a bunch of good birds. You make Uncle Joe’s day ya hear.” The pilot looked out to the right and started a long slow turn back to RAAF Darwin.

  SEVEN MINUTES AFTER launching, Benevolent Dragon and White Dragon’s twelve Harpoons found their marks. They’d been detected too late for the ship’s CIWS to be engaged. Three frigates and a Destroyer received two hits each. Two of the frigates started to list, the Destroyer was a wreck waiting to happen and fires raged throughout. More Harpoons found targets, another four ships were out of action and fought fires. On one a frigate the magazine was breached, fires caused shipboard missiles to fly and one to explode. The rear ships of the PLAN task force had been sunk or put out of action.

  More Harpoon’s had been launched by ROC F16’s over Taiwan, these too scored many hits. The F16’s found themselves targets as BVRAAM long range missiles, launched from SU30MKK and J11 fighters raced in. Many but not all were defeated by countermeasures or violent last-minute jinking. The aircraft soon merged into a furball and short-range turning fights developed. Many pilots ejected or died that day at the hands of Vymple R-73, PL-9 and Sidewinder missiles.

  Then the hard rain fell. Dozens of Tomahawks and JAASM launched from B52’s arrived.

  Simultaneously, USS Stonewall Jackson, HMS Bellerophon and Suffren’s Harpoons, Tomahawks, Exocet’s, and SCALP flew into the melee.

  The Chinese CIWS, now activated took several out, but the Fleet’s defences were overwhelmed. After several minutes the PLAN invasion fleet was a mess of fires black smoke and devastation, some vessels did come through relatively unscathed. Most of the landing ships were also untouched.

  USS STONEWALL JACKSON.

  NATHAN HAD WAITED BUT he had to take a look. He set up the periscope to do a 180 sweep, it popped up, swept and retracted. He slid the display from left to right. It was burning ships smoke, carnage.

  “Planesman, trim for descent, down bubble fifteen, make your depth three hundred feet.” He knew Pike and Manaudou would have done the same as he did.

  “Benson, layering here?”

  “Sir, cold layer at 1,200 feet.”

  “Ok, listen for subsurface contacts. Here first.”

  Benson listened and played with his screen and its coloured rivulets for several minutes.

  “Ok sir, I have definite and faint returns from seven boats. Three are SSN, four are very probably Song class diesel electric boats. Ranges nine to twelve miles away.”

  “Planesman trim for descent, down bubble ten, all ahead two thirds, make your depth 1,400 feet.” He knew Bellerophon and Suffren would have detected the boats and be proceeding north too. Stonewall Jackson made her silent way towards the PLAN boats.

  “What are our two closest contact Benson?”

  “Sir, two Shang class SSN’s with a Song not far behind them. Their range is six miles.”

  Nathan turned to the XO “Larry I’m thinking of uppercut. What do you think?”

  “That’d be good. The Shang won’t be capable of coming down where we are,” Larry raised his finger, “but his fish may.”

  “Yeah I know, but it’s a chance, and we’ll be down under the layer, I doubt he can get himself under it.” The XO nodded.

  “Plansman, get deep, make your depth 2,000 feet.”

  “2,000 Aye Sir.” The boat tilted down to the bow and sunk into the cold dark abyss.

  “Benson what’s an approximate course to the nearest Shang?”

  “Sir, there one at bearing 345 degrees and one further to our left.”

  “Weaps, designate the nearest Shang as Tango one and the other as Tango two. Flood two tubes with Mk48. Do we have a Pointer loaded?”

/>   “No Sir.”

  “Get one in a tube.” Weaps touched his screen. A few minutes later he was ready.

  “Sir tubes one and two have fish in them and are flooded. Ren is loaded into tube six.”

  “Flood him. Benson let me know when we’re three hundred yards from Tango one.”

  The minutes ticked away. “Three hundred yards sir.”

  “All stop. Half fill forward one. Open outer doors on tubes one, two and six.”

  The tilt up towards the bow was now alarmingly steep. The USS Stonewall Jackson rose slowly upwards bow first at eighty degrees toward Tango one’s belly. She was here down below the layer hard to detect, but she was coming up silently with menace on her mind.

  Nathan looked at the depth indicator 1,500 feet 1,540 feet.

  “Weaps, get a firing solution on Tango one.”

  “Aye sir already laid in.” He knew the Shang was at three hundred feet. Nine hundred feet above the layer. Come on, come on please don’t hear me. As the boat approached 1,200 feet.

  “Weaps, launch tube one.”

  “Tube one launch,” the rushing sound could be heard up forward.

  “Fish running, fish is hungry, climbing, climbing.”

  “Flood forward one, let’s slip back, steady at 1,500 feet. Launch tube six.” barked Nathan.

  “Tango one’s putting some revs on,” said Benson.

  Weaps called out excitedly. “Fish pinging, pinging. Fish running in, terminal.”

  The Mk48 found it’s mark, ramming into the Sheng below amidships and blowing the SSN in two.

  “Yes. Hot datum Tango one,” shouted Benson.

  “Ren’s out there,” at 1,300 feet, “holding station.”

  “Aspect change on Tango two,” said Benson, “she’s turning towards the impact site and us.”

  Nathan moved into the centre of the room and looked at the Weapons Officer. “Weaps, get Ren above the layer. Broadcast tubes flooding and outer doors opening, get him to sound like us, ready to attack.”

  “Aye sir.”

  “Speed fifteen knots, get us under Tango two.”

  “Fifteen aye sir.”

  Benson looked up. “Sir, tango two has launched a fish at Ren, type Yu-6.”

  “Get Ren to give him an active ping. Simulate fish launch sounds.” The control room was a heaving sweaty action pit.

  “Shit, Tango two’s heard us, he’s launched another fish, this one’s coming down.”

  “Threat direction?”

  “Port sir.”

  “Ready countermeasures to port. Stream the lure.”

  The lure a product of the high priests of underwater deception, L-3 Chesapeake Sciences Corp was towed behind the boat; the TB29/A1 was a near perfect jamming and deception tool. Its long range sensing ability were awesome.

  “Weaps, dance the lure.”

  In this mode, by emitting simulated submarine noise, such as propeller and engine noise, the lure would attempt to confuse the fish’s sonar by sounds more attractive than the boat to the torpedo's sensors.

  “The lure’s dancing sir.”

  “Yu-6 heading down and towards us, range one six miles sir.”

  “Keep our speed, get under Tango two.”

  “Yu-6 is pinging us, range 1,550 yards, 1,350 yards.”

  Nathan clenched his teeth and held fast to a personnel rail.

  “Yu-6, 990 yards sir.” Nathan counted down the seconds.

  “Release countermeasures to port, come starboard, blow forward and turn hard upwards, all ahead full.” The boat pulled hard into a near vertical climb assisted by buoyancy and the powerful water jet drive.

  “Mother fucker missed sir,” shouted Benson, “Yu-6 is heading down, spiral searching, goodbye sucker.” USS Stonewall Jackson raced for the surface.

  “Range to Tango two?”

  “Four hundred yards sir, three seventy.”

  “Launch tube two.”

  “Fish away and hungry. Pinging, pinging terminal, cutting wire,” Weaps could barely get it out.

  Benson punched the air. “Hot datum, eat that Uncle Joe.” Nathan sighed.

  “Flood forward one, two thirds, revs back for ten knots, come to level depth. That’s it people the cartoons over for now.” The boat settled, soon Benson picked up sounds from the west.

  “Sir, detecting distant battle sounds from the west.”

  “That’ll be the RN, come on Pike.”

  HMS BELLEROPHON.

  WITH HIS WORLD CLASS sonar system, Commander Pike had detected the two Song class diesel electric boats sometime ago, heading his way just above. He decided to come to a stop and wait for them.

  “Mercer. Range to the Songs?”

  “Four kilometres sir.” She’d been watching them like the shark that she was. Pike took down his hand-held intercom and pressed transmit, the ship’s tannoy came to life.

  “All hands, all hands. This is your Commander speaking. Billy Ruffian is now at action stations. Quiet state. We have two Chinese boats out there looking for a fight. We’re about to give them one. Commander out.”

  “Weaps, designate as Tango Papa 1 and 2, compute firing solutions, ready two Spearfish. Open up, let them get a sniff.”

  Weaps got to work.

  “Sir, two Spearfish tubes two and three, flooded and outer doors open, firing solutions loaded.

  “Count me down Melanie,” said Pike.

  She jiggled her Bowers & Wilkins headphones. “Range, three point four Kilometres sir, speed 12 knots. Two point five, one point eight. They’re just 100 meters above us. Point seven, wait sir, passed us by, now south of our location.”

  “Planes, come about anti clockwise, nice and slow, get on a course behind them.”

  “On south sir.”

  “Make speed 15 knots.” Bellerophon gained on the two Song class over a few minutes.

  Sir,” said, Mercer, “Range to Tango Papa 1 is eight hundred meters we are in his baffles, Papa 2 is one point four kilometres to his starboard.” In his baffles meant they were right behind the Song class in his blind spot. Pike calculated that this was about as good as it was going to get.

  “Weaps, tube three T Papa 2, tube two T Papa 1. Launch two and three.”

  “Both tubes launched, Spearfish running, active, pinging.” The two Torpedoes ran in at 50 knots, full terminal velocity.

  “Ohh...” Melanie exclaimed in shock, “Commander, Tango Papa 1 has ejected two unpowered objects behind, they’re sinking,” she said with surprise. Pike frowned then realised, shit.

  “All ahead, blow all forward 70%.” The deck tilted to aft, crew hung on, objects fell to the deck and rolled aft.

  “The bloody Song has dropped sea mines.” Bellerophon was pulled by buoyancy and pushed by her drive away and above them. A Spearfish hit Tango one, the hull shook, Pike knew the shock wave would slow them down. Bastard. The boat pushed on upwards. Two huge explosions detonated below them. Enormous gas clouds were expelled, these were designed to break ship’s backs. The boat was caught above them. The control room rocked to the left and right, the crew were secured by harnesses, but shoulders and heads hit control buttons and rocker switches. The groaning of steel could be heard as the hull took the rolling blows. The sea boiled outside of the boat, but still her drive and buoyancy pulled her away. A shout went out from Weaps. “Spearfish terminal.”

  Melanie tried to listen for a hit, but it was just too wild out there. The boat slowly settled.

  To the west she could hear the faint sounds of large bubbles rising and a bulk that may have been sinking. Then there it was, a part of Tango 2, several bulkheads must have been isolated, an implosion, the was no mistaking the sickening crush sound.

  “We scored a Hot datum on Tango 2.” No one cheered or even grinned, it had been that close.

  Pike looked around his dazed control room. “Right, well done, that’s Billy Ruffian 2 PLAN 0. Sonar, wiggle your shell likes, find me some more targets Miss M.”

  THERE WAS A CEASE FIRE now ac
tive on Taiwan. PLA troops were returned to their landing ships. Local fishing boats helped with the evacuation. A few cases were life hung in the balance were flown to hospitals on the Island.

  Operation Dragon’s breath was at an end.

  USS STONEWALL JACKSON.

  “BENSON, WHAT’S THE magic sea telegraph telling you?” Nathan smiled.

  “Sir a few minutes ago I heard two fish running to the far east. The computer library ID’d them as probable F21 Artemis heavy torpedoes, French, they must have been Suffren’s. Shortly after two hits and two boats down.”

  “Good, any trade for us?”

  “No sir, not subsurface. There are surface vessels but some dead in the water others low revs, Most of the vessels under power are heading towards the stricken ships. We can designate them sir.”

  Nathan shook his head. “No, they’re probably rendering what help they can. Let them be.” He turned to the XO. “Larry, I think that’s it.” The XO grinned.

  “Yeah, the Black Swan flew in, took a dump, and flew out again.”

  Chapter 17

  Ministry of State Security compound, Xiyuan. Beijing.

  SHE CLIMBED OUT OF bed, donned the clothes they’d given her and followed the young man.

  At last she’d meet Ling Shiming, she knew it could be a very difficult meeting. You didn’t get near the top in the MSS unless you were shrewd and hard.

  They walked along a corridor and took an elevator to the next floor. He approached a more elaborate door than the rest, swiped a card down a reader. Knocked and entered. He nodded to the receptionist. “May Hsin.” She waved him through. The young man knocked on the door, it was opened by Ling himself.

  “Come in Miss Hsin. You can wait out there.” She walked in. Ling Shiming had an oversized wooden desk. Opposite was a large window looking out at a forested garden.

  “Sit please, would you like a tea? Anything to eat?”