The Faithful Spy

by Jeffrey Layton

  “The carriers—what happened to them?”

  “Dead in the water electronically. Nothing works. Teams are assessing the damage. I’ll know more soon.”

  “How could this happen?”

  “I don’t know yet. But just before the attack, patrol craft guarding the base detected a submarine near the southern entrance to the harbor. We believe the sub was involved but at this time are unsure of what its role was.”

  Chen cursed as he climbed out of bed. His wife remained asleep, immune to his frequent middle-of-the-night awakenings. “I want a complete briefing by nine o’clock this morning.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chen returned the telephone handset to its cradle on the bedside table. As he pulled on a silk robe over his pajamas he muttered, “The damn Americans. I know they’re behind this!”

  * * * *

  After collecting the divers offshore of the Yulin base, the P-815 proceeded southeast for two hours to rendezvous with the Novosibirsk. As soon as the P-815 docked with its host, Captain Petrovich ordered Yuri Kirov and Lieutenant Shtyrov to report to the wardroom. Visibly agitated when the junior officers entered the compartment, Petrovich didn’t offer tea. The three men were alone, seated at the mess table. Shtyrov had just provided a briefing on his part of the mission.

  “Did you know about this?” Petrovich barked, his fury directed at Yuri.

  “No, sir. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

  Petrovich turned back to face Shtyrov. “Who authorized you to make the attack and why wasn’t I told about it in advance?”

  “Our operation was planned on a contingency basis before we departed from St. Petersburg. The new orders to proceed to Hainan contained the authorization for us to proceed.”

  “What authorization?”

  “It was the codeword OCTOPUS.”

  “You said that was your authorization to install multiple recorders.”

  “A diversion, sir. We were ordered not to reveal any details of OCTOPUS until the mission was complete.”

  Exasperated, Petrovich rubbed his forehead. He fumed in silence as the tension inside the compartment mounted.

  Breaking the ice, Yuri said, “Sir, have you heard anything about the base? Have they deployed any assets?”

  “We conducted an ESM sweep twenty minutes ago. Yulin’s still dead. No transmissions from anything, shore-based or shipboard.” Petrovich remained peeved. “What about you, Kirov? What surprises do you have for me?”

  “I deployed the unit as planned.”

  “Well, after the chaos of this morning, there’s no way we’re going to able to reinsert you to pick up the damn thing. The PLAN is going to have Yulin locked down for months.”

  “I agree, sir,” Yuri said. “The unit has a default mode like the Remora deployed at Qingdao.”

  “Will it surface and radio home its data package?”

  “Correct.” Yuri didn’t mention that he had programmed the Crawlerbot to transmit a duplicate data dump via satellite comms to an FTP site Yuri used at Northwest Subsea Dynamics. Only Yuri had the password to access the storage file. It was Yuri’s insurance.

  “How long before the default mode kicks in?”

  “Thirty days from deployment.”

  Petrovich grimaced. “Assuming it works, which is a huge assumption, if that thing manages to crawl back out of the tunnel into the bay and sits on the bottom waiting to be retrieved, don’t be surprised if the Chinese find it before the thirty days are up. They’re going to be checking every square meter of the bottom, looking for spy gear.”

  Yuri did not respond. Exhausted and sleep deprived, he wished the debrief would end so he could crash. But the Novosibirsk’s commanding officer was not done.

  Petrovich said, “Kirov, how much damage did the mini sustain from the attack?” The Novosibirsk’s sonar unit monitored the P-185’s entire encounter with the drones.

  Caught off guard, Yuri chose his words carefully. “It’s a sturdy boat, sir. Lieutenant Tumanov reported they had one seawater intake line that fractured during the depth charge attack. It was banded and held.”

  “Can it be repaired—with help from our engineering department?”

  “It’s possible but that will be difficult while it is submerged. Usually, a dry dock is needed to repair seawater intake lines.”

  “What if we surface? Would that work?”

  “Of course.” Yuri flashed a questioning gaze. “Do we have another mission, sir?”

  “I don’t know yet. After we reported picking up the mini, Fleet radioed back ordering us to stand by for a possible follow-up mission.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Yuri turned away, suppressing his frustration. After such a close shave, all he wanted was for the mission to be over. Once he completed his obligation, Admiral Belofsky promised Yuri that his military service commitment would be fulfilled, and he could to return to the United States.

  * * * *

  In Beijing, the Central Military Commission (CMC) briefing was underway. All members were present including President Chen Shen, who served as Chairman. Vice-Chairman Admiral Soo Xiao stood at the podium next to the theatre-size video screen. Soo had provided a brief overview of the events at the Yulin Naval Base and was now ready to go into details. He advanced the first photograph—a dockside view of the Shandong, China’s newest aircraft carrier and the pride of the South Sea Fleet. The photo had been recorded an hour earlier by a naval intelligence unit stationed at Yulin. The officer in charge emailed the encrypted images to Beijing from a PLAN administration office in nearby Sanya.

  “This is the Shandong.” Soo gestured to the big screen image of the imposing warship. “From this perspective, you would never know anything was wrong.”

  Soo advanced to the next slide, which contained a thirty-second-long video clip. “This recording was taken on the bridge after a portable generator from Sanya was brought aboard.” The video panned the dozen control consoles centered on the ship’s helm. Every screen was either ink black or solid blue. “As you will note, not one of the ship’s control systems rebooted.”

  “What about the other ships in the harbor?” asked one of the seventeen conference participants. The man in a civilian suit sat on the left side of the U-shaped conference table.

  Soo responded. “Same as the Shandong. Every surface ship in the Black Pearl Taskforce at Yulin suffered the same fate, including the Liaoning.”

  A PLA general equivalent in rank to Soo spoke next. “Admiral, the carriers should never have been based at Yulin. I believe you were duped.”

  Soo inhaled deeply, expecting the rebuke. “That may be the case. The Eu Bu is looking into the possibility as we speak.”

  Three days earlier, the master computer that controlled the fuel system serving the carrier support wharf at Sanya failed. Because the Shandong and Liaoning were conventionally powered, they would need to take on fuel oil in order to participate in the Stalking Tiger exercise. Jet fuel for aircraft would also need to be transferred. The PLAN diverted the aircraft carriers to the Yulin Naval Base where the fuel system functioned.

  “Were we hacked?” asked the same general.

  “Unknown. My technical people are still trying to trace the fault.”

  “What about our subs?” asked another Army general.

  “Those moored in the open bay also lost their electronics. However, the three missile boats moored inside the mountain were shielded and remain operational.”

  That report brought a collective sigh of relief from all in attendance.

  “Sir, was it a cyber-attack that disabled the ship’s computers?” The intelligence expert with the PLA Air Force sat on the right side of the table.

  “Negative. What happened at Yulin was not a software hack.” Soo adjusted his posture while leaning against the lecture stand. “Virtually ev
ery control system on the Shandong and on the other ships at the base including the Liaoning was rendered physically inoperable by a hostile directed high energy pulse.”

  Soo activated a second video, a clip downloaded from an American military contractor’s website. “This video illustrates the attack of a military base by a U.S. Air Force aircraft delivering an EMP device.”

  Mandarin replaced the original English narration as the video diagrammatically played out the war game attack—approach to the target, release of the weapon, retreat by the aircraft, and then detonation of the e-bomb.

  Another civilian bureaucrat spoke next. “Admiral, isn’t EMP generated by a nuclear weapon?”

  “Nuclear weapons generate EMP as a byproduct of the detonation, but that’s not what happened at Yulin. There’s no trace of radioactivity associated with the attack.” Soo warmed to his topic. “The weapon used at Yulin was triggered by chemical explosives. We have similar devices, as do the Russians and Americans.”

  Admiral Soo followed up with a brief primer on the mechanics of non-nuclear EMP weapons.

  President Chen, occupying the center of the conference table, then asked, “Admiral, how was the device delivered to Yulin?”

  “We’ve ruled out an attack by aircraft. Defensive radars detected no threats.”

  “What about a low flying cruise missile?”

  “Same, sir. The base defenses specifically look for that type of threat. There was none.”

  “Continue,” ordered Chen.

  “That leaves only one avenue of attack, Mr. President.” Soo advanced to a new slide. “This is an aerial view of Yulin.” He used a laser pointer to mark the north end of the base. “Taskforce Black Pearl ships are moored here. Eyewitness accounts from on-duty crew members indicate that the explosion occurred in this area.” Soo repositioned the laser pointer to a small island nearest to the warships.

  “Admiral, just how did that happen?” asked Chen, his tone peeved.

  “The attack came from the sea, most likely by divers from a submarine.”

  “I thought this base was prepared to deal with that type of activity.”

  Admiral Soo massaged his temple with a free hand. “Mr. President, we’re still trying to sort that out. I can tell you the base did detect the presence of a submarine minutes before the detonation.” He redirected the laser pointer to the waters offshore of the southern harbor entrance to the base. “An underwater sensor detected a hostile submerged vessel in this area. Three antisubmarine warfare drone patrol boats were dispatched to investigate. Upon arrival, the lead drone used its sonar to target the intruder. It then directed a coordinated depth charge attack by all three craft.”

  “They sank the intruder?” Chen asked, encouraged.

  “We don’t know yet. ASW assets are checking the area as we speak.”

  “What about the drones—didn’t they report back on the attack?”

  Soo pursed his lips before responding. “Once Yulin was knocked out by the e-bomb attack, the drones lost communications with the base security center. Without the shore control link, default software for each vessel required it to return to the base.”

  Chen’s face rolled into a scowl. “So, this submarine might have escaped after all.”

  “It’s possible. We’ll know more later today.”

  President Chen squirmed in his chair, his hemorrhoids reacting to the mounting stress. Without regard to the others in attendance, he lit up a cigarette.

  After inhaling and releasing a lungful, he once again addressed Admiral Soo. “I know it’s early, and I know you don’t like to speculate, but I want your best assessment at this time. Are the Americans behind the attack on Yulin?”

  “I believe so. Our assets in the U.S. Department of Defense have reported in the past that the Department’s research unit called DARPA developed a potent man-portable EMP system. That system was upgraded and may have been deployed against Yulin.” Admiral Soo aimed the laser pointer at the aerial image of the base, again marking the island nearest to the piers mooring the Taskforce Black Pearl warships. “Everything points to the Americans detonating the bomb on this island.” He lased the area just south of the Yulin base. “They probably used a U.S. Navy SEAL commando team, delivered by submarine. The divers penetrated the harbor and somehow evaded our defenses, which allowed them to install the weapon on the island.”

  “And the problem with the fuel system on carrier pier?” President Chen asked.

  “They may also have been responsible, but it’s too early to be sure.”

  Chen took another puff. “Payback for Alaska?”

  Admiral Soo narrowed his eyes. “I know we’ve all been waiting for repercussions, but I’m not sure. I would have expected their response to be much more robust. There was no loss of life associated with the Yulin attack.”

  “Knocking out half of our fleet is not enough?”

  “Violence of action, sir. One EMP blast is minimal.”

  “Then what do you believe provoked them?”

  “They could still be in the dark about what happened in Alaska. My best estimate is they used the e-bomb to shut down Taskforce Black Pearl in order to avoid a confrontation in the South China Sea.”

  “What about Taiwan?”

  “Yes, that too if they somehow figured out our plan.”

  President Chen crushed the spent cigarette in an ashtray. He dismissed the Commission, requesting that Admiral Soo remain behind.

  With the room cleared, Soo joined Chen at the center of the conference table. They sipped tea from porcelain cups, filled from a steaming pot delivered by a presidential aide.

  “Admiral, we can’t let this go without a response. I have to do something.”

  “Sir, it’s still early. I recommend that we wait a few more days to collect evidence. Forensic teams are scouring the island as we speak.”

  “What are they looking for?”

  “Bomb fragments, trace elements from the explosive—anything that might help identify where the bomb was manufactured.”

  “Xiao, I can’t wait long. There will be leaks about the attack, perhaps even by the Americans to mock us. Our people will be furious when they find out what happened. They’ll want answers and I have nothing to offer them.” Chen said.

  Soo understood Chen’s worry. With a downturn in the economy, China’s once-burgeoning middle class floundered. Beijing’s foremost horror was on the horizon—renewed Tiananmen Square-type protests with legions demanding jobs, free speech, and political reforms.

  Admiral Soo returned his cup to the table. “Sir, I may have a way to neutralize what the Americans did at Yulin that will also garner substantial support from the people.”

  “Tell me more,” President Chen said.

  Chapter 67

  Lieutenant-Commander Zheng Qin knocked on the cabin door of the Heilong’s commanding officer.

  “Enter.”

  Zheng opened the door and stepped into the cabin. “You wanted to see to me, Captain.”

  “Have a seat.” Commander Yang Yu gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the table from where he sat.

  Although compact, Yang’s stateroom was well appointed. His bunk occupied the far corner. A work area next to the table held a computer monitor anchored to a desktop. With the companion keyboard and mouse, Captain Yang had instant digital access to all of the ship’s critical systems. Mahogany shelving above the desk contained assorted books and several framed photographs of submarines he previously served aboard. The only personal photo on display was a color portrait of his parents. A doorway near the bed led to Yang’s private head, which included a shower.

  The Heilong’s executive officer sat down. That’s when Zheng noticed the navigation chart laid out on the tabletop. “Course change, Captain?”

  “Yes, we received new orders.” He handed over a printout
of the decrypted message received thirty minutes earlier by the Heilong’s communications department. While the submarine remained several hundred feet below the surface cruising southwestward at ten knots, a buoy antenna deployed from an aft compartment ascended to just below the water surface for a routine radio check. VHF radio waves broadcast on a loop cycle from South Sea Fleet headquarters at Zhanjiang penetrated five to ten feet into the water column, allowing receipt of the message without the need to raise the radio mast above the sea surface.

  Zheng’s brow wrinkled as he read. “They don’t need us for Taskforce Black Pearl. I don’t understand.”

  “I’m just as surprised.”

  “Where are these coordinates?” Zheng held up the printout of the sub’s new orders, which directed the Heilong to depart from the South China Sea and proceed east across the Pacific to a specific set of earth coordinates.

  Yang rotated the navigation chart of the North Pacific Ocean. He pointed to an X he had penciled in prior to the executive officer’s arrival.

  Zheng eyed the chart and looked up at the Heilong’s commanding officer. “Hawaii?”

  “Yes—Pearl Harbor.”

  * * * *

  Aboard the Colorado, Commander Thomas Bowman sat at his workstation in the control room reviewing ship maintenance reports. He was listening to his favorite musical score, Richard Rodgers’s “Victory at Sea,” when an intercom speaker in the overhead blared with a new message.

  “Conn, sonar. Master One update.”

  Bowman switched off his iPod and went to the sonar unit. “What’s up, Richey?”

  “Sir, Master One has changed course to zero-two-zero and increased speed to twenty-five knots.”

  “Continue to monitor and report any deviations.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Bowman addressed the officer of the deck. “Continue following Master One, Mr. Johnson. But remain discreet.”

  The junior officer acknowledged Bowman’s direction and issued new orders to the watch crew.

  Bowman walked to the plot table. Colorado’s executive officer was already studying the digital map.