by Don Brown
“T minus forty-five seconds to impact,” the automated voice announced.
“There was a reboot code the instructor came up with,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else. “Wasn’t in the manual. Just something the instructor told me about as a last-ditch effort. What was it? … God, help me to remember this.”
The Situation Room
the White House
7:27 a.m. local time
Against a black screen with the words COMMUNICATIONS MALFUNCTION flashing in the center, the chronometer continued its countdown.
29 seconds …
28 seconds …
The president of the United States, the most powerful man in the world, felt paralyzed in his chair at the end of the table. He prayed silently.
The phone rang from the Pentagon.
“Admiral Jones … what? … when?”
The black screen morphed into something resembling an electronic meteor shower. And then … the images of the three ships reappeared!
15 seconds …
14 seconds …
“Hang onto your seats, gentlemen,” Admiral Jones announced, hanging up the phone. “We’ve reestablished contact!”
3 seconds …
2 seconds …
From the left and the right, two Tomahawks flew into the screens and exploded in the Chinese ships. A split second later, two more Tomahawks finished the job.
Smoke clouds billowed so large over each destroyer that their outlines became invisible.
“Bull’s-eye!” Admiral Jones said.
The line from the Pentagon rang again.
“Jones … Roger that … Keep me posted.” He hung up. “Mister President, Navy SEALs are now boarding the Emory Land.”
Surber exhaled in relief. He could do no more. The fate of his daughter, and of every member of the crew, was now in God’s hands—and in the hands of SEAL Team Six.
“Very well,” the president said. “Let’s get up to the Oval Office. I’ve got a nation that’s waiting for some answers.”
Third Floor Dining Room
the White House
7:32 a.m. local time
It’ll be okay, Mrs. Surber.” Sarah Edwards sat with Hope-Caroline at the small table in the private presidential dining room on the third floor of the White House. “The president’s a good man,” Sarah said. “Besides, we’re going to pray that Stephanie and the whole crew of that ship will be safe.”
Hope-Caroline gazed into the kind face of her forty-year-old personal aide. “You know you don’t have to call me Mrs. Surber.” She smiled at her. “Hope-Caroline will be fine.”
As Sarah took Hope-Caroline’s hand, Charles walked up to the table. “Mrs. Surber, the president is about to address the nation. Would you like to watch?”
“I thought that was supposed to be at eight o’clock.”
“Yes, ma’am. I think they decided to go on early.”
“Yes. Turn it on, please.”
Charles nodded. A second later, Fox anchor Tom Miller appeared on the screen, saying, “And now, from the Oval Office, the president of the
United States.”
The screen cut to the Oval Office, where her husband, having donned a navy blazer, sat behind his deck in front of the bay window overlooking the South Lawn.
“My fellow Americans.
“Pope John Paul II once said that ‘Radical changes in world politics leave America with a heightened responsibility to be, for the world, an example of a genuinely free, democratic, just, and humane society.’
“Just a few short days ago, naval forces of China attacked Itu Aba Island, a small island in the South China Sea, an island that has been controlled by Taiwan since 1950.
“Because it is not in the best interests of the United States or the world for China and Taiwan to be at war, I sent several US Navy ships into the region to deter a war before it could get started.
“As the first elements of our naval forces were arriving, Taiwan stopped a Chinese freighter, the M/V Shemnong, because they suspected that the Shemnong was transporting weapons to reinforce Chinese forces on Itu Aba Island.
“As it turned out, the Taiwanese were right. But weapons were not the only cargo found on board the Shemnong.
“The Taiwanese made a shocking and gruesome discovery. In the bowels of the Shemnong, in a refrigerated cargo bay, there literally were thousands of dead babies preserved in fluid in large glass containers inside shipping crates marked ‘Medical Supplies.’ Some of these infants died before birth. Some died after birth. All were girls.
“Taiwan asked for our help. So we sent a US Navy medical team on board the Shemnong. Our examination of these babies revealed something even more shocking. All had been murdered. A document we obtained revealed that these bodies—these babies—were to be sold on the black market.
“This crime against humanity was so despicable that I ordered the Shemnong seized to preserve evidence of these atrocities, to ensure that the monsters who murdered these babies are brought to justice, and to ensure that the bodies of these babies get a proper burial.
“As you may know by now, China retaliated by attacking and seizing a US Navy warship, the USS Emory S. Land. The Emory Land is a submarine tender without the weaponry to defend herself against overwhelming forces. Unfortunately, the Emory Land was in the wrong place at the wrong time, as we did not have ships in place to defend her at the time of the attack.
“However, I can report that at this very moment, US Navy SEALs are executing a rescue operation to retake the Emory Land from Chinese Marines.
“I warn China that any further attacks on American naval forces will bring about severe consequences. I call upon China and Taiwan to immediately cease fire and to negotiate a diplomatic solution to the crisis in the South China Sea.
“As far as President Tang’s demand that we immediately return the Shemnong, well I can tell you that this is not going to happen. Not until after we expose to the world the evidence of these shameful atrocities that have been going on in China. And not until after we are assured that the murderers who committed these crimes will be brought to justice.
“Thank you, and may God bless America.”
The screen lingered on Surber for a second, and then switched back to Tom Miller at Fox.
“That’s enough, Charles. Thank you.”
Presidential Palace
Zhongnanhai Compound
Beijing, People’s Republic of China
7:49 p.m. local time
Mister President,” General Shang said, “we have received a radio broadcast from our Marines aboard the Emory Land. The Americans have launched an attack to retake the ship. They have also launched missile attacks against our two destroyers guarding the Emory Land.”
“What did you say, General?” Tang stood up behind his desk. “How can this be? I thought we were hiding the ship in the open sea outside of the lanes so it could not be easily found!” He looked at Admiral Zou. “Admiral, you yourself suggested that we keep the ship on the open seas to make it harder to find. How do you explain this?”
“We believe that someone on the ship activated a distress beacon that the Americans picked up, sir.”
“So what is our situation now? We are repelling these attacks. Are we not?”
“Mister President,” Admiral Zou said, “we have lost all contact with both destroyers. The radio broadcast that we received from the Emory Land indicated that both destroyers are aflame from multiple missile attacks. It appears we will lose those ships. Also, US Navy SEALs have boarded the Emory Land, and a shootout is going on right now.
“Our Marines are suffering heavy losses. It appears that the Americans may retake the ship.”
There was an empty cup and saucer on his desk. This was the cup that his young aide, Captain Lo Chen, had brought his tea in. Tang picked it up and slammed it into the glass window behind his desk. Shards of porcelain flew all over.
He spun back around and glared at his military commanders.
“How did the Americans launch this missile attack?”
Admiral Zou said, “The cruiser USS Shiloh, the sister ship to the Vicksburg, steamed into the area. We believe that our destroyers were sunk by a cruise missile attack launched from the Shiloh.”
“Is the Shiloh now within range of the jets on board the Shi Lang?”
“Yes, Mister President. But barely within range.”
“Then sink the Shiloh.”
“Yes, Mister President.”
Combat Information Center
USS Shiloh
South China Sea
8:00 p.m. local time
The mood of celebration in the ship’s CIC, buoyed by the successful Tomahawk strike against the two Chinese destroyers, was doused by a sudden announcement over the 1MC.
“General Quarters! General Quarters! All hands to Battle Stations! Radar showing four inbound bogies! Stand by to launch missile batteries. This is not a drill.”
Bridge
USS Shiloh
South China Sea
8:01 p.m. local time
Captain! Missiles in the air, sir. Eight inbound, sir. From those jets! Looks like they’re throwing everything they’ve got at us.”
“Very well,” Captain Jamie Neely said. “Prepare to launch interceptors on my command.”
“Prepare to launch, aye, sir.”
“XO!”
“Aye, Captain.”
“FLASH message to USS Carl Vinson. Request fighter cover ASAP. Get those birds out here! We need all the help we can get.”
“Aye, Captain!”
“WEPS. Bridge.”
“WEPS. Go ahead, Captain.”
“Launch interceptors! Now!”
“Aye, sir. Launching interceptors!”
Bridge
USS Carl Vinson
South China Sea
100 miles astern of USS Shiloh
8:03 p.m. local time
Scramble! Scramble! USS Shiloh is under attack! Navigator! Turn the Vinson into the wind!”
“Turn into the wind. Aye, Captain!”
The commanding officer, Captain J. Scott Hampton II, barked orders into the 1MC microphone. “CAG, we need two jets in the air immediately! Shiloh is under attack! Requesting immediate air cover!”
“Roger that, Skipper,” the CAG commander said. “We’ve got two Hornets on the cat! Ready for launch.”
The Situation Room the White House
8:05 a.m. local time
Should we tell him?” Admiral Jones asked.
“He said he didn’t want to know,” Secretary Lopez said.
“Wouldn’t you want to know if it was your daughter?” Cynthia Hewitt said.
“He’ll know soon enough,” Lopez said. “He doesn’t want to be influenced by the appearance of favoritism. Not that it would do any good at this point anyway. Besides, we need to make sure that he keeps a clear head with the Shiloh under attack!”
Third Floor Dining Room
the White House
8:05 a.m. local time
Hope-Caroline’s hands trembled. She could no longer contain the tears.
“It’s going to be okay.” Sarah Edwards reached across the table and took her hand. “Dear Jesus. Please. Protect the crew of that ship. And protect Stephanie from harm. And be with our president in this time of crisis, guide him so that he will be full of wisdom to make the correct decisions that are in the best interests of our nation and the world.”
Her head bowed, Hope-Caroline felt Sarah’s gentle embrace.
“And please be with my friend Hope-Caroline. Give her your supernatural comfort.”
Bridge
USS Carl Vinson
South China Sea
99 miles astern of USS Shiloh
8:06 p.m. local time
Clear the deck! Prepare for takeoff!”
“Clear the deck! Clear the deck!”
From the flybridge, Captain Hampton peered down at the fire brewing in the end of the twin turbo-fan engines of the two F/A-18 Super Hornet jets on the cat. Off to the front of the jet on the right, the “shooter,” the officer in charge of giving the hand signal for launch of the aircraft, was on one knee.
With crash helmet on and his green flight jacket blowing in the night breeze under the carrier deck lights, the “shooter” gave the takeoff signal—a straight arm and finger pointed straight out.
The first Super-Hornet roared, fire blazing from the back of its engines, and with a mighty whoosh of steam from the powerful launch catapult system, the jet shot off the bow into the night, its twin afterburners marking its ascent into the dark sky over the sea. A few seconds later, the second jet followed the first, and flight crews began pushing two more into place.
The Situation Room
the White House
8:10 a.m. local time
Ladies and gentlemen, the president.” Arnie opened the door to the Situation Room.
“Sit,” Surber said. “No time for that. Admiral? Secretary Lopez? What’s our status?” He sensed hesitancy between them. They just looked at each other, as if uncertain about something.
“Two matters of urgency, sir,” Admiral Jones said.
“Let’s hear it, Admiral.”
“First, our SEAL team has taken control of the bridge of the Emory Land. We also control the engine room, CIC, and communications. In short, we’ve retaken control of the ship, and Captain Auclair Wilson, the CO, is in control on the bridge.”
“Thank God,” Surber said.
“Our SEALs are scouring the ship for any Chinese Marines who may be hiding out. However, you should know that we’ve taken casualties, and we’re sending choppers from the Carl Vinson to medevac crew members who need urgent medical attention.”
That statement hit Surber hard. How he wanted to ask, “Is my baby okay?” but he didn’t. “Do you know how many wounded, Admiral?”
“Several, Mister President. Some seriously. We’ve lost several crew members, sir.”
Dear Jesus, no.
“Is the ship able to steam on her own power?”
“Yes, Mister President. There was little damage to the bridge and engineering during the attack. She’s now en route at full power toward the Philippines.”
“Okay, good. What else?”
“Sir, the USS Shiloh is currently under attack by the Chinese. They’ve launched at least four jets from their carrier, the Shi Lang. Last I heard, eight missiles had been launched from the jets against the ship. We’ve scrambled four jets from Carl Vinson to provide air cover, but it looks messy, sir.”
Surber shook his head. This was getting out of hand. “That carrier is getting to be a problem, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is, Mister President,” Admiral Jones said.
“We got a sub anywhere within range?”
“The Boise’s right on her tail, sir. The carrier doesn’t even know we’re there.”
The phone rang from the Pentagon. Admiral Jones picked it up. What now? Jones was cursing about something. Jones hung up the phone. “Mister President, the Shiloh’s been hit. One of the Chinese missiles got through. Don’t know how bad it is yet, sir. We’ve taken out all four of the jets, but I imagine they’ll just send four more to try to finish the job.”
Surber thought for a second. “Is the Boise close enough for a shot at that carrier?”
“Point-blank range, Mister President. Just give the word.”
“That carrier’s done enough damage. Send the order to the Boise. Take her out.”
“Yes, sir, Mister President.”
Control Room
USS Boise
South China Sea
depth 100 feet
8:25 p.m. local time
Sir, FLASH message in from National Command Authority.”
“Thank you, Mister Roberts.” Commander Graham Hardison read the FLASH message, then folded it and put it in his front shirt pocket. “XO, take the boat to General Quarters. Prepare to fire torps. The president just ordered us to take that carrie
r out. I want shots out of all four tubes.”
The XO picked up the 1MC and flipped a switch, sounding alarm bells throughout the nuclear attack sub. “General Quarters. General Quarters. All hands to Battle Stations!”
Fantail
USS Shiloh
South China Sea
8:28 p.m. local time
All hands to the fantail! We need all the help we can get!” The XO’s voice boomed over the 1MC, and after the explosions that had rocked the Shiloh, it was a miracle the 1MC was even functional.
Lieutenant Brad Lucas, who had seen so much of the action on a monitor in his electronic nest as he controlled the Fire Scout drone 18,000 feet above them, headed out of the Combat Information Center, out of the superstructure, and into the night air.
Flames leaping into the tropical sky cast a long reflection in the water off the port side of the ship. The Chinese missile had ignited an inferno from hell in the midst of the sea. He heard the desperation in the voices:
“More water!”
“Get some more hoses back here!”
“Watch your head!”
“Move! Move!”
The crew of the Shiloh was battling flames on the ship’s stern that, if not contained soon, would engulf the magazine room, setting off an explosion that would send them all straight to the bottom.
Another explosion lit the skies in the top of the superstructure, this one not as large as the first. Lucas began to think that he might not survive the night.
Control Room
USS Boise
South China Sea
depth 30 feet
8:30 p.m. local time
Up scope!” Commander Hardison ordered.
“Up scope! Aye, sir!”
Hardison brought his eyes to the viewfinder of the periscope. “Yeah, baby! I’ll teach you to launch air strikes on US warships.” Boise had swung out broadside of the carrier and was lying in wait like a vicious wolf about to pounce. The Shi Lang, the new flagship of the Chinese fleet, appeared oblivious of what was about to happen.
“WEPS. Status on torps.”
“All tubes flooded. Ready to fire on your command, sir.”
“Very well. Fire torps one and two!”
“Fire torps one and two! Aye, sir!”