Lash-Up

by Larry Bond

  The Americans had turned the South China Sea into a meat grinder, with the Chinese navy and air force taking significant casualties fighting for control of that strategic body of water. Despite the best efforts of the People’s Liberation Army Navy, the seas along the front remained contested. U.S. submarines seemed able to strike at will up and down the Chinese coastline. And under the coordinated cover of an American-carrier strike group, the Vietnamese navy boldly seized Yongxing Dao—a tremendous embarrassment to the PLAN and China.

  A hastily thrown together air strike was sent out to stop the Vietnamese from consolidating their position, only to be butchered by an Aegis ship that lay silently nearby. And while the navy pilots courageously pressed their attack, they only succeeded in causing moderate damage to the ships in the convoy, at a cost of nine fighter-bombers shot down and another two damaged beyond repair. Virtually an entire squadron sacrificed for nothing! Shen crumbled the report into a ball and threw it at the wall in frustration. The war was turning into a conflict of pure attrition, something he had carefully sought to avoid.

  “If only those fools would have listened to me!” he shouted to himself. Shen jumped out of his chair and began pacing frantically, trying to read between the lines of the sterile daily reports. The personnel losses were worse than he had imagined, and even if the Vietnam campaign continued on its favorable course, the navy and air force would emerge from the war in a weakened state. The longer the war went on, the weaker they would be.

  Still, his anti-GPS campaign was proceeding perfectly. The Dragon’s Mother had only moments ago claimed her sixteenth victim. In less than a month, the U.S. would have only a few hours of 3D coverage left, and none during the night. With their long-range precision-strike capability neutralized, the Americans would have to rely on other methods to execute their attacks—methods that would increase their casualties. Shen was convinced that as soon as the body count started climbing, the Americans would sue for peace.

  A sharp knock at the door disturbed the general’s train of thought. “Enter,” he snapped.

  Colonel Hsu, Shen’s intelligence officer, opened the door and walked into the office. “Excuse me, General, but I have a report that the Americans have launched another GPS satellite from Vandenberg.”

  Shen sighed deeply; the news was annoying, but not unexpected. “You’ve confirmed this?”

  “Yes, sir. We have U.S. news coverage of the launch, as well as space-radar data. The satellite was placed into a standard GPS orbit.”

  “Very nice of them to tell us what they’re doing,” remarked Shen cynically. “Well, that should be their last one. They shouldn’t get another one for many months now. Anything else?”

  “No, sir. Is there something the General wants?” Hsu asked.

  Shen frowned. He hadn’t seen a new intelligence report on the Defender vehicle in over a week. There could, of course, be fresh reports still making their way through official channels, but the general had specifically asked that anything new be delivered expeditiously. It wouldn’t hurt to ping the system. If new reports were coming, he’d at least be informed of that.

  “Yes, Colonel, check with your colleagues to see if any new intelligence reports on Defender have been received. It’s been a while, and I wish to be kept up to date with any developments.”

  “Certainly, sir. But I thought you believed Defender would take far more time before it can be launched?”

  Frustrated and tired, Shen thundered impatiently. “Yes, Colonel, I still believe that, but that doesn’t mean I wish to remain uninformed! Wisdom demands that we must consider the alternative, even if it’s impossible!”

  “Yes, sir! At once, sir!” replied Hsu as he rushed from the office.

  Stewing, Shen found himself considering dark thoughts. If Defender were real, if it could interfere with his GPS campaign, then the war would likely go on longer than his current estimated timeline. Such an outcome would not bode well for China.

  21

  The Reveal

  www.Defenderwatch.com

  Posted December 8, 2017

  Apologies to all for the site being down yesterday. It was another cyberattack, but we’ve gotten a lot of practice recently at protecting our files and recovering from misguided hackers. At least it wasn’t the Chinese. Nothing blew up.

  For the people who haven’t bothered to read the FAQ, let me say it here:

  THIS SITE DOES NOT TAKE SIDES ON

  • The ongoing war with China

  • The issue of government secrecy/transparency

  • The Defender program as a response to the GPS satellite attacks

  • The weaponization of space

  We really don’t care.

  So leave us alone and go shout at someone who gives a frack.

  People interested in discussing these extremely controversial topics can click here for a list of appropriate forums.

  The only position this site does take is that Defender exists and is being built in California at Edwards Air Force Base.

  Thanks to the leaked Defender design document, we have a fair idea of the spacecraft’s characteristics, although those of us with experience in the aerospace community know that there can be, and usually are, many changes between the drawing board and the runway (or in this case, launchpad).

  Many of the postings lately have been about when big “D” will fly. Estimates range from weeks (the Krazy Glue and duct-tape crowd) to months to never. Instead of trying to guess when, let me ask a better question: How will we know when they’re getting ready to launch? Personally, I’d like to be as close to Edwards as they’ll let me if and when she flies.

  Since the Beaumont incident, the impressive security at Edwards AFB has been tightened still further, and getting into the not-supposed-to-exist “U.S. Space Force” base inside Edwards is virtually impossible. My friends in the industry with access to Edwards say the area around the old Airborne Laser Program facility looks like a Marine firebase. There are no signs saying USSF, by the way.

  An aside to potential “truck watchers:” Since the appearance of the Defender document online, people with more spare time than sense have attempted to get clues about the activity at the USSF base by monitoring truck traffic in and out of Edwards, recording license plates and company logos, as if they’d spot a rocket engine hanging out the back. I’ve had posts from four individuals saying they’d done this, and all four have been questioned—and three briefly taken into custody—by federal agents who have absolutely no sense of humor.

  Let me explain this to you all. Remember that Edwards is an air base. They have runways, lots of long runways. Anything big or important will be flown in. At night.

  The launch, especially at night, should be visible from as much as one hundred nautical miles away, so that includes Bakersfield to the northwest, Riverside to the west, and possibly Los Angeles and Long Beach to the south, depending on the pollution and sky glow. Barstow is fifty miles to the east, and should provide an excellent viewing spot, given that the vehicle will arc eastward as it climbs. One California poster is already looking for good spots along Highway 58.

  But he needs a little warning time to get in position. So I’ve created a new thread in the forum: How will we know when they’re close? Contributions from Chinese sources are welcome.

  U.S. Space Force Headquarters

  Edwards Air Force Base

  0315 hours

  December 9, 2017

  “You know, moving her at night isn’t going to make any difference. As soon as she’s on the pad, she’ll be seen,” Barnes observed critically.

  “It gives us a few more hours,” Ray answered. “We kept her in the hangar for as long as possible, but she has to go to the pad now.”

  They watched as Defender was slowly towed from her hangar down Taxiway A toward the launch complex in Area 1-54 some twenty miles away. Everything was going smoothly. The recently repaired concrete apron in front of the hangar had held, and Jerry Peters’s crew had m
arked the turn points along the route in paint. Security was tight, with armed fighters patrolling overhead and Avenger air defense vehicles in front of and behind the procession. They were camouflaged, of course. And in the darkness, they looked like utility trucks, until you spotted the box missile launchers pointed skyward.

  “I don’t like what it’s doing to the training schedule,” Barnes complained. “I agree that the flight crew needs to be involved in bringing her to the pad, but they’re losing a lot of sleep. It’ll be well past dawn by the time she’s in position, so they won’t be able to get any sleep.”

  “What is this ‘sleep’ you speak of?”

  “Ray, don’t joke. I don’t often agree with the flight surgeon, but stuff like this can mess up your circadian rhythm, and the effects last. You’re dragging for the next few days, no matter how much sleep you get the next night. You haven’t been in the astronaut program for very long. We make an effort to keep ourselves as close to perfect health as possible. You can’t ignore the physical demands…”

  “Biff, I understand, really. Was there a better way to do this? You didn’t suggest one when we planned this out.”

  “No,” Barnes admitted.

  “Then why are you complaining?”

  “Because I have to complain to someone, and complaining might make them not like me. You already don’t like me, so there’s no harm done. Besides, you’re handy.”

  The two were following the convoy and Defender as it moved at a brisk walking pace. They’d become separated from the rest of the group, mostly department heads, who were either walking or riding farther back. Jenny was in the BMC, using this opportunity to test communications.

  Barnes seemed glad for the late-night exercise. Not content to simply follow the convoy, he would go to one side of the road and then the other, looking from different angles, all the while monitoring Peters’s radio communications. It kept him at a half jog.

  “Would you like to take over for one of the tractors?” Ray asked. “Or would you just like to push from back here?”

  The pilot laughed and nodded. “I normally don’t feel like this until just before a flight—I mean, in a fighter. It’s when I’m prepping, when I’m going through my preflight routine. I get pumped, and I expect it. I want it. I can use the adrenaline.”

  “At least you’ve been in space before.”

  “Not on a combat mission. Not with so many unknowns, and not with so much at stake.”

  “I think my nervousness is more about how I will react to space flight. I’ve read enough about it, heaven knows. Some can’t handle it.”

  Barnes nodded. “It happens, rarely. But since we’re likely to be shot at as soon as we’re in orbit, you’ll be too busy to throw up.” He grinned. “Or down. In space the direction’s irrelevant. But aren’t you worried about Defender?” Barnes asked.

  “Not really,” Ray stated firmly. “I’m confident she’ll fly and do well; the other stuff, not so much. But what about the rest of the crew? You’ve spent more time with them than I have. Are they as wound up as we are?”

  “As you are,” Barnes corrected him. “Scarelli’s a test pilot. He’s coping by memorizing every fact about Defender he can lay his hands on. Steve Skeldon’s got one combat tour in Super Hornets. He’s like a kid waiting for Christmas. I had to chase him out of the simulator last night. And Andre and Sue won’t stop asking me questions about my own experiences in space.”

  Ray didn’t say anything for a minute, silently following Defender, then declared firmly, “Biff, we need to change the training schedule. Let’s add some group games: basketball, soccer, stuff like that.”

  “The six of us? And I suck at soccer.”

  “Then baseball,” Ray suggested.

  “Seriously? Three on three? You’re just trying to get out of weight training.”

  “I am not,” Ray insisted indignantly. “We need to get rid of these nerves, or we won’t have an edge at all. Physical activity as a group is a great stress reliever. Just consider it.”

  Barnes was silent for a dozen steps. He said, “We don’t have the time,” but he said it softly, as if debating with himself. Then, “What if someone gets hurt?” And again, “There’s no time!”

  Finally, Barnes announced, “Volleyball. Twenty minutes right before lunch. We’ll play a couple of fast nine-point games. It’s a big, relatively soft ball, and the risk of injury is low. And Sue can play with the five men on equal terms. She’s taller than everyone except Jim.”

  “Okay, but I haven’t played since grade school,” Ray admitted.

  “Then you’ll probably lose a lot, but that’s not really the point, is it?”

  Gongga Shan

  Sichuan Province, China

  December 9, 2017

  Senior Agent Wen seemed almost breathless when he appeared at the door to General Shen’s office. It was a long flight from Beijing, even in a high-performance jet.

  Shen didn’t wait for him to speak. “I know. The Americans have moved the Defender vehicle into launch position.”

  Wen nodded. “Yes, General. My superiors are asking for your opinion on when she will be ready to launch.”

  “My opinion?” Shen asked sarcastically. “I didn’t think anybody in Beijing cared what I thought.”

  “General, with respect, the Ministry of State Security did not take sides in your ‘discussion’ with the Central Military Commission. Our task is to gather, analyze, and share information.”

  Shen sighed. “Can you tell me anything new about the vehicle’s status? Systems that aren’t operating properly, or equipment that hasn’t been installed yet?”

  “No, General, there’s been no new information for some time now.”

  “Your source has been arrested then,” stated Shen.

  Wen nodded sadly. “It’s likely he is lost to us. We haven’t been able to reach his handler for over a week. In such cases, standard procedure is to send a message directly to the agent, through a safe channel, of course. The agent is supposed to respond within twenty-four hours.” After a small pause, Wen reported, “He has not responded.”

  “So we can expect nothing more from that source,” Shen concluded.

  “And our technical means are extremely limited,” Wen added. “Is there any chance that this is a deception plan, a bluff of some sort?”

  Shen almost laughed out loud. “What? To what end? I thought that issue was settled earlier.”

  “Please excuse the question. My superiors were instructed to explore every possibility. The entire politburo is now convinced that the American vehicle is a credible threat.”

  “And faced with the reality, they’re scared. They’re still looking for some way to make it disappear.”

  “But we come back to the basic question. When can the Americans launch?”

  The general scowled. “Considering I didn’t think they’d be ready for nearly a year, I may not be the best man to ask. But, practically speaking, the original VentureStar vehicle was designed to simplify launch preparations and reduce turnaround to a minimum. There’s no booster or strap-on fuel tank. If the modifications the Americans intended to make are complete, then all they have to do is fill its fuel tanks, and they’re ready to go.”

  Wen observed, “Normally, a country making a space launch is required to publish a Notice to Airmen and Mariners in advance, but there has been a standing notice of ‘tests’ over Edwards for some time now.”

  Shen smiled and shook his head. “The Americans wouldn’t make it that easy.”

  The security agent added, “We have increased our monitoring of cell phone traffic in the region, but so far it has not provided any useful information. We may get lucky, but we can’t depend on it.”

  “The only thing we can depend on,” Shen replied, “is that we will know when it is launched. They can’t hide that. With the media hovering like they are, it will be broadcast over the news channels in moments. I’ve already instructed Dr. Dong to expedite the preparations at Xi
chang, and, of course, we’re also getting another Tien Lung ready for launch. I do have one thought, however.”

  Shen gestured to a timer on the wall of his office. It read “134.28.12.” The numbers were counting down. “The Americans know as well as we do when we will launch the next Tien Lung. If they want to stop us, they’ll have to launch by that time, or wait another week for the next cycle. And I’d wait until right before we launch, so we won’t have time to react.”

  Wen nodded his understanding. “If they don’t launch by the time we do, we kill another American satellite, and there’s no reason to launch for another week. But if they launch too early, before the Tien Lung, it gives us time to react to their presence.”

  “Precisely,” the general replied. “If they wait until we launch and commit to a target, and then take off themselves, it gives them the best chance of intercepting and destroying the Tien Lung vehicle.”

  Wen stood and bowed. “Thank you, General. I will report your conclusions to my superiors. I’m sure the politburo will find them very helpful.”

  After the agent left, Shen grumbled, “Now they listen.”

  U.S. Air Force Chief of Staff’s Office

  The Pentagon

  December 9, 2017

  “You know they’ve moved her to the pad.”

  “Yes, sir.” General Maureen Ryan couldn’t tell whether her boss was pleased at their progress or disappointed. Everyone knew that General Warner would never wish the Defender team to fail. Not only were they working to defeat the Chinese, they’d also acquired a large following who admired their daring. For a generation that had been raised on NASA’s methodical, almost exhaustive thoroughness, the Space Force’s speed and innovation were breathtaking. But it was clear that General Warner wished they were part of his air force.