“Dick will direct CTF-74 to deploy his boats to take up station off Zoushon and Yulin. COMSUBGRU-7 is an addee on the message.”
“Their load-out?”
“Standard.”
“We’ll want mines.”
“SUBPAC has that for action. They’ve alerted Houston and Corpus Christi.”
“Good. Where do we stand with SURTASS?”
“Impeccable is closest to the Op Area. Our message to Commander Underseas Surveillance will task him to reposition her to keep tabs on a Kilo we know to be underway in the vicinity of Woody Island.”
“We can’t afford to have the Chinese stumble into the Carter.”
“Impeccable had considerable success against shallow water diesels with her SURTASS during RIMPAC.”
“Let’s be certain they can translate that success into an intercept of a 636.”
“Another ace up our sleeve is the new Integrated Underseas Surveillance System we strung along the PLAN’s approach lanes. We’re sending one of our guys to the IUSS Operations Support Det at Pearl City to look it over.”
“What about LASH?”
“It’ll be a good fit in the shallow waters of the Spratlys,” Noland answered. “The system will detect any changes in UV and infrared signatures made by their subs.”
“Get a message to COMPATRECON WING ONE and tell him to hang LASH pods under his P-8s. If he needs more of them or has any tech support requirements, get them out to him. Anything else?”
“I believe we’ve covered the bases.”
“I’ll let you guys go. Keep me updated.”
Chapter 37
DRUMMOND ISLAND
00:35 SUNDAY 13 JULY
“Commander,” Ace called, “we’re nearing our last navigation point abeam of Duncan Island. We’ll assume a course to the northwest to your drop point. ETA: five minutes.”
Rohrbaugh acknowledged the timeline for their insertion on Drummond Island. “What’s the battery status?”
“Holding their charge, Commander. We’ve got a good eighteen hours.”
“We’ll stage for egress,” Rohrbaugh said. “I’ll signal when we’re locked in and ready to flood the chamber.”
“Roger that.”
Rohrbaugh felt confident the insertion would go without incident. Drummond was one of five islands of the Crescent Group, strung together by a shallow reef, Antelope, Robert, Prattle, Duncan, and Drummond lay along the rim of a dormant volcano. The deep central lagoon of this cauldron would provide a safe haven for ASDS-1. Ace would maneuver the sub past the unsuspecting Chinese by way of a deep channel between Duncan and Antelope islands.
“Ready up. Buddy check.”
He would have preferred to have run at least one simulated mission, but the mission’s short fuse precluded any run-throughs. Mitigating this shortfall was the precise mapping data and real-time streaming video fed to them by the Global Hawk circling overhead.
Rohrbaugh turned to his team leader, Chief Boson’s Mate Wayne Tinsley. “Boats, you good?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s get on it. Ace, we’re entering the chamber.”
“Sonar has confirmed our approach to the shelf, Commander. That’ll place you at one-hundred feet for your egress, four-hundred yards from the beach.”
“Boats, you lead,” Rohrbaugh ordered. “I’ll lock us in.”
The five other men of Rohrbaugh’s Direct Action Team squeezed by him to join Tinsley in the ocean interface chamber. Rohrbaugh followed, closed the watertight door, and opened the sea valves to flood the chamber. Cold seawater poured around him. He was never prepared for the shock despite the number of times he had gone through this evolution. The water rose steadily, engulfing his legs, surrounding his chest, enclosing his head.
Within moments the chamber flooded. Rohrbaugh released the latches securing the egress hatch and swung it open. He propelled himself into open water, looking up to verify his depth. A thin line of bubbles trapped by the hatch drifted to the surface.
He checked his pressure and depth gauges while waiting for the rest of his team to emerge. They were soon assembled, hovering in neutral buoyancy over the deck of the ASDS. He signaled Tinsley to close the egress hatch.
Rohrbaugh set a compass course for the south and settled into the SEAL’s energy-conserving kick and glide technique. His team kept pace in a tight formation by his side.
The offshore current was minimal, and the team easily traversed the short distance to the shallowing waters leading to the beach. Rohrbaugh broke through the surface, motioning the team to hold in place at the edge of a coral head. Low tide had occurred at 2031 hours and they only had to contend with minimal surge. Clouds obscured the moon. The conditions were optimal.
Rohrbaugh grasped a rocky outcrop and scanned the shoreline. A thick patch of low-lying vegetation abutted the water’s edge. “Boats, the beach is clear. Hold at ten yards.”
The team exited the water near the clump of brush Rohrbaugh had spotted and slipped out of their scuba apparatus.
“Boats, get the gear concealed. Suarez take point.”
Suarez led off, guiding the assault team around the base of the basalt mount in which the Chinese had carved a cave for their missile emplacement. He exited the dense vegetation and motioned to Rohrbaugh.
The ground before them was dotted with coconut palms. offering no concealment for their final approach. Tinsley pointed to the cave entrance.
“Guards?”
Tinsley held up two fingers. The PLA soldiers standing watch on either side of the cave entrance were backlit by a single bulb.
“Saurez, we’re going to have to take them out,” Rohrbaugh whispered. “Take left. I’ve got right.”
Rohrbaugh dug his elbows into the sand to brace his rifle. Drawing a bead on his target, he completed his mental checklist. The distance between him and the sentry was minimal. He wouldn’t need to compensate for wind drift or bullet drop. “On my count. Three, two, one.”
Two simultaneous pops dropped the guards.
“Miller. Anthony. Cover us.”
Rohrbaugh bolted across the thirty yards of open ground to the cave. He dropped to one knee when he reached the rock face and peered around the steel door into the emplacement. No sign of activity. He motioned to the nearest body. “Niles, prop that one up next to the entrance. Suarez, drag the other guy inside.”
“Go.”
The SEALs swept the void of the cave mouth with their rifles. Two C-802 cruise missiles resting on their cradles dominated the space.
“Holy shit, Skipper. Look at those bastards.”
Rohrbaugh pointed to the nearest. “Boats, wire that one. I’ll take the second. Niles, see if you can locate the warheads. They must have them secured in another area. Suarez, C-4.”
The SEALs set to work affixing the two-pound blocks of explosives in a pattern around the missiles’ fuel tanks. Next, they paired their charges to primer cord and blasting caps, wiring the entire array to a firing device.
Rohrbaugh turned at the sound of thudding boots. Niles. “Skipper, I’ve found them. There’s a locked wire-mesh door back there with a couple of signs plastered on them. One’s red, the other looks like one of those yellow nuke signs.”
“You got the flex charge?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wrap the door. We’ll blow it just before we set off the main charges.”
“Skipper, I also found these,” Niles said, handing Rohrbaugh a four-inch thick stack of tan jacketed books. “Look like some kind of tech manual.”
“Let’s see ’em.”
“What do ya think, sir?”
“Niles, you’ve hit the mother lode. These alone are worth the trip. Hey, Boats?”
“Checking the batteries, Skipper.”
“Listen up. We’ve got to get our asses out of here. Niles, set your timer for fifteen minutes.”
“Set at fifteen minutes,” Niles confirmed.
“Boats.”
“Remove arming p
ins.”
“Arm on my mark.”
“Yes, sir.”
“One one-thousand, two one-thousand, now.”
“Armed,” Boats barked.
“Rally up, let’s get the hell out of here.”
Rohrbaugh pulled up next to Suarez at the cave mouth. “Clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go.”
The team retraced their steps, joined up with the other SEALS, and made their way to the beach. Rohrbaugh checked his chronometer. Two minutes until the charges were set to blow. “Get your gear on.”
Rohrbaugh hefted his apparatus, twisting to align his scuba tank. A huge explosion rocked the island. The blast wave knocked him off balance, throwing him onto his right side. A stab of pain lanced through his shoulder.
Niles was the first to respond. “Holy shit! What did they have in there?”
“Damn,” Suarez said, his head swiveling to check their perimeter.
“Boats,” Rohrbaugh coughed. He rolled to a sitting position, cradling his right arm in his lap.
“Skipper?”
“I’ve dislocated my shoulder.”
Tinsley edged over to Rohrbaugh’s side and made a quick assessment. He’d seen this injury before. “I need to fix this.”
“Yeah, thought so.”
“It’s going to hurt,” Tinsley said.
“I know.”
“Niles, help the skipper with his rig.”
“What gives?”
“Dislocated shoulder. Secure him.”
Niles handed his rifle to Suarez, dropped to his knees, and positioned himself to prevent Rohrbaugh from moving.
“Ready, Skipper?”
Rohrbaugh set his jaw in anticipation of the pain. “Do it.”
“I’m going to put my foot in your arm pit and pull like hell.”
“This is my second time.”
“Alright, here we go.” Tinsley placed his boot, grasped Rohrbaugh’s hand, and began to pull with steady traction.
“Arghhh!”
“Hold on Skipper. It’s beginning to give.”
Several seconds later, Boats felt the joint pop into place.
“Damn, Boats,” Rohrbaugh gasped.
“You can thank me later. I’m going to strap your arm to your side.”
“How the hell am I supposed to swim?”
“You’re not. I’m going to drag you. All you have to do is kick.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Suarez, grab the skipper’s gear. Niles, help with his rig. Skipper, you have the signaling device?”
“In my kit.”
Tinsley found the device and aimed it into the lagoon, squeezing off two long bursts of infrared light. He repeated the sequence three more times. At the end of the third, the receiver flashed in response to an invisible signal broadcast from the mast of the ASDS. He sent another coded signal and waited for the reply.
“Let’s get wet. They’re waiting for us at four-hundred meters, due north. Ace knows we have a casualty and will be near the surface. Skipper, you’ll feel better once we’re underway. Remember, all you have to do is kick. I’ll get you home. You ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Shove off.”
Chapter 38
THE WEST WING
13:00 MONDAY 14 JULY
Bob Lawson strode into the Cabinet Room, intent on finding Sheldon Payne. He spotted him, talking with Valardi, and caught his eye.
Payne nodded. The last update he’d heard of Rohrbaugh’s mission was an hour ago. The infrared sensors of the Global Hawk circling over Duncan Island had registered a huge explosion. “Richard, would you excuse us please?”
Lawson and Payne separated from the others.
“What do we have?” Payne asked.
“They’re safe.”
Payne’s shoulders slumped, exhaling in relief. “Injuries?”
“None that we know of.”
“And the target?”
Lawson scanned the room. “They’re being debriefed, but it appears our suspicions were confirmed.”
Payne saw Stuart enter the room. “He’ll want to know.”
Stuart crossed the room and steered Payne and Lawson out of earshot. “Have we heard anything?”
“We got them out,” Lawson answered.
That’s all Stuart needed. “Keep me posted.”
The brevity of his response belied Stuart’s relief at this news. The consequences of a SEAL team member being killed or captured by the Chinese would have been unimaginable. Over the past twenty-four hours he kept questioning the wisdom of authorizing the mission. It would be a few more hours until he learned if the results justified the risks.
The other staff in the room had observed the brief exchange, but Stuart didn’t drop any hints about what was discussed when he began the meeting.
“Sheldon, what more can you tell me about this morning’s confrontation in the East China Sea?”
“There’s nothing new. All we’ve confirmed is a Chinese patrol boat opened fire on a Japanese trawler, killing a fisherman. They impounded the boat and detained the survivors charging them with poaching and border violations.”
“Hardly worth killing someone for.” Stuart said, his exasperation evident having to contend with yet another incident.
“No, sir,” Payne said. “The Chinese have expressed regret over the loss of life. They’re insisting the trawler was engaged in illegal smuggling and ignored orders to stop.”
“Can we substantiate any of these claims?”
“No, sir.”
Brown peered over the rim of his glasses at Payne. “Do you think Beijing was reacting in kind to Tokyo’s actions several months ago?”
“Please refresh my memory.”
“When the Japanese chased those Chinese protestors off one of their islands in the Senkakus.”
“That’s one angle.” Stuart drew a Rising Sun on his notepad. “Bob, what’s Tokyo’s response?”
“For openers, the JMSDF dispatched two destroyers to the area.”
“Have the Chinese countered?”
“No yet.”
“Stay on top of it.”
Lawson returned his look, affirming he would do just that. Assured, Stuart turned his attention to Payne. “Justin, do you see any linkage with what’s going on between Beijing and Taipei?”
“I don’t believe so, but there is one possible scenario. The Chinese may well be sending Tokyo a message to stay clear.”
“I can’t put much credence in that,” Valardi said. “The Japanese government has already indicated they have no intention of getting involved in what they consider to be an internal Chinese affair.”
“Justin, presuming Richard’s presumption is correct, where’s that leave us?”
“We’re focusing on the threat to Taiwan.”
Valardi snapped the top of his fountain pen back on and set it on the table. “Then I’ll cut to the chase. Are we willing to go to war to protect the Nationalists?”
“That’s a valid question,” Brown said. “The reality is, we could lose what leverage we may have with either party.”
“Exactly,” Stuart concluded. “We have to develop the ground rules within which we interact with the Chinese and define what constitutes unacceptable behavior. We’ll operate within that context.”
Brown sought to frame the discussion. “So, what’s unacceptable?”
“Taiwan declaring independence.”
“We’re talking about Beijing’s behavior,” Stuart replied. “But since this happens to be the crux of our immediate problem, let’s pursue it. Beyond drawing a comparison with the Federal government permitting the South to secede, I don’t want to spend time deliberating the merits of Beijing’s position. That’s a reality we must accept.”
“Mr. President?”
“Yes,” Stuart responded, wondering what Valardi had on his mind.
“Might I suggest we just let Mississippi go?”
Payne picked up on t
he quip and replied in his best southern drawl. “Sah, ah take great offense at yah suggestion.”
Stuart let the laughter die down. “Despite the wisecrack, I’ll draw on it to develop an analogy. Let’s say the good folks in Jackson announced their intention to leave the union and negotiations failed to dissuade them. What would happen if we just let them go? Would Alabama and Louisiana decide to follow suit?”
“The domino theory,” Valardi said. “Vietnam falls to the communists and so does the rest of Southeast Asia.”
“Correct, and communism has very little relevance now compared to the threat posed by radical Islam. Political manifestos and allegiances will vary, but nations will ultimately act in their own self-interest.”
“Then we need to work within that framework,” Brown said.
“Let me toss this out. Would the balance of power in Asia shift if we changed our position and not oppose reunification of Taiwan with the mainland?”
Valardi warmed to the idea. “We already support Beijing’s ‘One China’ and ‘Three-Noes’ position.”
“Technically that’s correct,” Stuart said, “but you know full well our actual stance says something entirely different.”
“We can’t write off Taiwan,” Payne countered. “We’d lose all credibility in the region. Y’all know the costs of abandoning our friends.”
“All too true. However, I shouldn’t have to point out we haven’t always chosen the best of friends––have we? A policy based on pragmatism and self-interest instead of principle will leave a void that will ultimately lead to a bad outcome.”
“I should note ASEAN has already written off the Nationalists,” Valardi added.
“Perhaps,” Brown replied. “There are no permanent friends in that alliance. The constant we should not lose sight of is their over-riding permanent national interests.”
“We need to move on,” Stuart said. “We don’t have time to rehash old discussions. Richard, what do you have on the Philippines?”
“Montalvo’s in serious trouble. He’s in no position to provide assistance.”
“Does he have any support?”
“Whatever he had is eroding. In fact, several members of his cabinet have indicated their intent to resign.”
“How’d he respond?”
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