The War Planners Series

by Andrew Watts

  When it grew quiet again, Victoria said, “Listen, I know that everyone is tired and stressed out. Make sure when you aren’t on watch, if you don’t have anything vital to the mission going on, that you’re taking care of yourselves and getting rest. You’ll be no use to me if you’re so tired that you type in the wrong numbers when we find and attack that Chinese sub. And don’t give me any shit about the pilot always being concerned about crew rest.” She smiled.

  The group smiled back. That was a good sign. People were nodding their heads.

  “Plug.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Are you good to fly?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I only have one more helicopter, so please try to keep this one dry, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I need you to make sure that the bird is fully outfitted for ASW.”

  “We’re loading MK-54s now, boss. Should be done in another hour.”

  “Good.” She turned to the ship’s combat systems officer. “CSO, how is Farragut’s ASW readiness?”

  “We’re using our passive systems to see what we can turn up, ma’am. All of our weapons are ready. No issues.”

  “Except for the undetected hostile submarine in the area,” replied Victoria. She didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but it came out that way.

  “Yes, ma’am. Except for that.”

  “Very well. Keep sharp, everyone. Plug, OPS, please stay. We need to have a conversation with our guests here.” She looked at her brother. Victoria hadn’t bothered to tell anyone on board that Chase and she were related. A few of them had probably seen the hug they’d exchanged in the hangar. But everything else had been strictly professional. She didn’t even have to say anything to Chase. It was just something that they both understood. The environment they were operating in required total focus. Emotion and relationships would have to wait.

  When the room emptied, Victoria said, “Chase, what can you tell us?”

  He placed the backpack on the table. “We have a very important piece of equipment in here that we need to get to Panama. If you can get me to the international airport there, I can do the rest. But we have a finite amount of time. This thing has an expiration.” He looked at his watch. “We have about seventy-two more hours before it’s no longer useful. I need to get it to members of my team in Panama City with enough time to do something with it. They told me they need about a day. So if you add an hour for me to secure transportation…that gives us a little under forty-eight hours to get me on the ground in Panama City.”

  Victoria looked at OPS. “How far away are we from Panama City?”

  He said, “I can double-check to give you an exact distance, but roughly eight hundred miles if we go straight there.”

  Victoria did the math in her head. “Alright, so we’ll have to steam forty hours at twenty knots. Plug, how far would you be willing to launch at? Three hundred miles away okay? Consider this an emergency.”

  “Three hundred should work if the winds aren’t in our face too much.”

  She tilted her head. “Okay, let’s call it three hundred miles. That puts us down to a five-hundred-mile trip. Is twenty knots a good assumption?”

  A few of the more senior surface officers nodded.

  Victoria said, “So we need to head straight toward Panama for twenty-five hours. Then there’ll be flight time. Plug, what’s that?”

  “Let’s call it a three-hour flight for simple math.”

  “Alright—so you guys would be on deck in Panama City in twenty-eight hours. Will that work?”

  Chase said, “It should, yes.”

  “This supposes that we don’t have to fight off the submarine on our way there. If that happens—”

  The phone rang, and the person closest to the phone answered it. He looked up at Victoria. “Air Boss, it’s for you.”

  She walked over and picked it up. “Manning.” She looked up at the group. “OPS, please come with me. The rest of you stay here and keep working on the details of a plan. I’ll be back shortly.”

  “What is it?” Chase asked.

  She looked him directly in the eye. “The USS Ford is contacting us. They’re driving up the western coast of South America.”

  Chase smiled. “I was wondering when they’d show up.”

  Victoria walked into the CIC with OPS in tow. The communications officer stood over the central chart table. “Good evening, Air Boss.”

  “Good evening. Sounds like you’ve been busy. What have you got?”

  “Ma’am, about an hour ago we started getting a datalink connection request. We went through all the procedures, and everything checked out good. Long story short, it was an E-2D Hawkeye, launched from the USS Ford.”

  “Understood. Now, how is that possible?”

  “The USS Ford Strike Group is several thousand miles to the south of us. But they’ve launched their airborne early-warning aircraft. We’re now sharing our tracks over datalink via the E-2.”

  Victoria looked at OPS. OPS said, “When will they be here? It’s going to be several days at least. Call it a week.”

  “We just started chatting with them now, sir. We don’t have voice up yet—it’s all on chat.” Chat was the term for the encrypted instant messenger system the military used to communicate on.

  “So? What are you waiting for? Ask them,” OPS said.

  “Sir, uh…Ford CSG Actual is on chat. He wants to speak with Farragut Actual. I…I assume that is the air boss? Is that right, ma’am? I wasn’t sure what to say.”

  Victoria nodded. “That’s fine. Show me where to type.” They walked over to one of the computer monitors.

  FARRAGUT TAO: This is Farragut Actual. Status: Air Boss had to take over as Farragut Actual after CO and XO were KIA in missile strike. Farragut casualties were 14 Dead, 10 wounded. Four ships in company were sunk. 32 personnel from ships in company have been rescued and are on board. All Farragut systems have been restored and are operational. We have taken on 10 personnel from a MARSOC unit, including high-priority cargo. Are you familiar, over?

  FORD CSG BWC: FARRAGUT Actual, this is FORD CSG Actual. Sorry to hear about your KIA. Am familiar with MARSOC mission and cargo. Understand priority and destination. State intentions, over.

  FARRAGUT TAO: Intend to proceed to Panama City at best transit speed and launch cargo with one member of MARSOC unit as soon as we reach helicopter range.

  FORD CSG BWC: Roger, stand by.

  Victoria took a deep breath. This was a surreal experience. She looked around the dark, high-tech room. She was commanding a US Navy warship, and sending messages to her father, who was commanding an aircraft carrier strike group.

  “What ships are with the Ford? I mean, what type of ships? Do you have that up on the board?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Looks like they have the DDG-1002, the USS Michael Monsoor, riding shotgun. They also have the USS Mason, the USNS Henry J. Kaiser, and the USS Detroit, a littoral combat ship. It’s like a Navy recruiting commercial—they’ve got one of everything.”

  Victoria just nodded, too tired to smile. While she waited, she wrote down a list of questions that she had for when FORD started talking again. The chat window became active a few moments later.

  FORD CSG BWC: FARRAGUT, until further notice, FORD CSG takes tactical control of your unit.

  FARRAGUT TAO: Roger, understand FORD CSG has TACON of FARRAGUT.

  FORD CSG BWC: FARRAGUT, be advised, Chinese surface action group headed your way from the west. Additionally, Chinese Shang-class attack submarine believed to be in your vicinity. BOTH surface action group and sub have orders to sink your unit.

  Victoria looked at the screen, whispering, “Well, no shit, there’s a Chinese sub. Thanks.”

  OPS said, “Do they have a location or number of Chinese surface ships?”

  Victoria typed.

  FARRAGUT TAO: Interrogative position of hostile units?

  FORD CSG BWC: Unknown. Working with reconnai
ssance assets to search the area. Will pass updated track information to you when able.

  FARRAGUT TAO: Roger.

  FORD CSG BWC: FARRAGUT, your orders are to stay at current location until FORD CSG gets to your position.

  Victoria looked at the screen in disbelief. What was her father thinking? Didn’t they know that the crypto key had to get to Panama City as soon as possible? Plus, if there were ships and submarines out here trying to find her, the last thing she wanted to do was sit around. She needed to plow through and head to Panama.

  FARRAGUT TAO: FORD CSG, respectfully—this will not allow us to complete our mission. VIP and Cargo needs to get to Panama ASAP. Waiting at current position not an option. This will also expose us to submarine attack.

  FORD CSG BWC: Understood. Was not aware of cargo transfer requirement. Stand by.

  Admiral Manning sat in a chair on an elevated platform in the rear of a room the size and shape of a movie theater. Yet instead of normal seats, the room was set up similar to NASA mission control. Rows of highly trained Navy personnel worked on computers, gathering information from sensors and eyeballs around the fleet. This room was where the admiral’s watch team ran the carrier strike group. It was the brain. The central command center for billions of dollars of high-tech warfighting equipment and thousands of personnel.

  A Navy commander was the head watch stander, the battle watch captain. He stood behind the admiral while the admiral typed from the battle watch captain’s chair.

  The battle watch captain’s assistant came up to him, whispering, “Sir, we just got voice communications good uplink and downlink. The admiral can call and speak to Farragut on voice, if he prefers.”

  The admiral, his ears used to trying to listen in to the whispers of underlings, turned and said, “Yes. I want voice. Which one is it?”

  The commander handed him the black plastic phone. “You just press this button here, sir. They should be the only ones on that channel.”

  “Thank you.”

  He paused, realizing who he was about to be speaking with. “Gentlemen, could you give me a moment?”

  The watch standers and his aide stepped out of earshot. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Farragut, this is Ford CSG Actual, over.”

  “Ford CSG Actual, this is Farragut Actual, over.”

  It was her voice. He wasn’t sure how many people would be listening to the conversation, but he didn’t care. This was the first time he’d spoken to his daughter since his wife’s funeral.

  “It’s good to hear your voice, Victoria, over.”

  A pause.

  “Ford, this is Farragut, Thank you, sir. You too, over.”

  That was the most affection either of their proper etiquette-based personalities would allow.

  “Farragut, this is Ford. I understand that you disagree with the decision to remain on station until Ford CSG arrives, over?”

  “Ford, this is Farragut. Affirm, sir. I understand that it would be several days until you are within range of us. The MARSOC team and the intelligence officer with them have a very time-sensitive mission. Their cargo will expire and become useless if it doesn’t reach the shore as soon as possible. This cargo is crucial to bringing an end to this conflict.” She paused, letting that information sink in.

  “Farragut, this is Ford. Understood, over.”

  “Ford, this is Farragut. We’ve done the math, sir. We can’t wait, over.”

  “Farragut, this is Ford. You have four Chinese surface ships and one submarine bearing down on you. We are still several thousand miles away, but are working on plans to provide air support. The odds are against you. I don’t like the risk level, over.”

  “Ford, this is Farragut, sir. Respectfully, sir, I understand the risks involved. But this is the only way to accomplish the mission. I request that you allow us to proceed to Panama at best speed. We will take proper precautions and use the P-8 for air cover, over. Request CSG assistance in setting up air support.”

  Admiral Manning stood silent for a full twenty seconds, mulling it over in his mind. What would he do if his daughter were not on that ship? He sighed, knowing the answer, and hating it.

  “Farragut, this is Ford. Proceed as requested. Will work on air support plan, over.”

  “Farragut, Wilco, out.”

  As the admiral hung up the phone, he looked up at the tactical display, showing red units surrounding the single blue icon that represented the USS Farragut. He hoped he had made the right choice.

  Victoria and OPS reentered the wardroom and sat back down in their chairs. She got everyone up to speed.

  Chase said, “So you’re saying that you’ve got a bunch of Chinese ships and one submarine out there, all looking for us, with orders to blow us out of the water?”

  Victoria said, “Unfortunately, that about sums it up, yes.”

  Chase looked at the ceiling and whistled. “Can you fly me back to shore?”

  “I’ll do it,” Plug volunteered.

  A few smiles from the group. Everyone knew the two were trying to make a somber situation more light-hearted with the attempted joke.

  Victoria said, “While I appreciate your noble gestures, we need to head northeast. Getting close enough for a helo transport to shore is the only realistic option of getting the cargo to Panama City fast enough. I’ve instructed the TAO to start heading to Panama City at twenty knots.”

  She looked at her watch. “What I want to do with the next twenty minutes or so is brainstorm on what tactics we can use to get through unscathed. Thoughts?”

  OPS said, “We could turn off all our radars and go completely dark. Try and hide from the Chinese surface ships. As long as they don’t have some other way of getting our location, like satellite or something, then that should be good enough for them. But it won’t hide us from the submarine. If we’re traveling at twenty knots, and the submarine is in between us and Panama, we’re going to stick out like a sore thumb.”

  The ASW officer said, “Ma’am, OPS is right. We need a way to find the submarine.”

  “Well, we’re calling in maritime air support. There is a P-8 deployed to El Salvador that should be out here as soon as possible. That should give us protection against the submarine.”

  Plug said, “I don’t think they’ll have enough buoys to protect us for five hundred miles.”

  “Well, have you got a better idea?”

  Plug sat on the couch in the corner of the wardroom. There was a small TV and a bookshelf filled with DVDs. One of the DVDs was a 1996 film starring Kelsey Grammer.

  He said, “What if we hid from the submarine?”

  The group turned and looked at him. Lots of skeptical eyes. OPS said, “How the hell are we gonna do that?”

  Victoria said, “Plug, say more, please.”

  “Well, at the risk of admitting that I’m the village idiot…I mean, no one else has any ideas, so…”

  OPS said, “Spit it out, man.”

  “You guys ever seen the movie Down Periscope? You know that scene where the submarine goes right up under the merchant ship and uses it to hide and slip through undetected?”

  The group’s skeptical looks got even worse.

  Plug persisted, “Look, I mean…I fly over merchant ships all the time out here. This part of the world, about half of ’em are headed east…and if they are, they’re going to the same place we are. Panama City. So, well…what if we just, what if we just ‘encouraged them’ to travel really close to our ship? At the same course and speed. Like, really close to us. Maybe we could hide from the Chinese then?”

  Victoria frowned. She probably had the most ASW experience in the room. She thought it sounded nutty. Her impression was that submariners were like trained K-9 units. They could pick out a million different scents and wouldn’t get thrown off just because two ships got real close together. But she had to admit that she wasn’t totally sure that it wouldn’t work…

  Victoria said, “Can someone call our sonar
tech senior chief in for a moment? If I remember correctly, he started off as a submariner, right? Let’s ask him what he thinks.” One of the junior officers close to the wardroom phone picked it up and dialed a number to get the senior chief.

  OPS said, “We’d have to run it by the Ford Strike Group. They have tactical control of us now.”

  Victoria said, “For the sake of argument, let’s say for a second that this plan would work. How would we execute?”

  The Chief Engineer said, “We could fly prize crews to each of the merchants, and have them make sure that they’re doing what we want.”

  Victoria said, “We don’t exactly have a lot of people to spare to become prize crews. And what about the legality of it? Hell, this might be construed as piracy.”

  Chase said, “I think we’ve got a bunch of Marines who would love to participate. Right, Captain?”

  “Ma’am, I believe the terminology you’re looking for is ‘safety inspection,’” the Marine Special Forces officer said. “It just so happens that the Marine Raiders on board have been trained in these safety inspection procedures. I think that with the right encouragement, we could get a few merchants to happily comply with our navigational recommendations while conducting these safety inspections. Now, some of my men are wounded. But anyone who is up to it would be able to go. Now, our navigational recommendations will be identical to your ship’s course and speed, offset by…well, by whatever spacing you give us.” The Marine gave a charming smile.

  She felt like a substitute teacher who was getting taken advantage of by an unruly group of students. “Alright, let’s keep this as a hypothetical for now. But…Chase, Plug, and Captain Calhoun, please make your way up to Combat and start looking into potential merchants that might be good candidates.”

  The three men got up and left the room—a little too quick for her taste. Like they’d succeeded in getting away with something and didn’t want her to change her mind. But while there was humor in their excitement, there was nothing funny about a potential Chinese submarine waiting in their path.