by Larry Bond
“Fine,” Mac replied. “Who’s it from?”
“I can’t tell you, and for the moment, don’t send the file to anyone else.”
Now he was curious. “Seriously? I can’t use it on my blog?”
“Look at it first, then please, call me back.”
After promising to call, Mac hung up and checked his e-mail inbox. He found the file, downloaded and opened it.
His first impression was of a patchwork of blocks of text, then names and terms started to pop out at him. “DRAGON EYE” and “PLANK SHAVE” were NATO code names for Chinese- and Russian-built radars. One missile was described as the “CSS-N-8 SACCADE.” That was the NATO designation for the Chinese YJ-83, and was linked to a “seeker activation” time. In fact, he realized most of the document was a timeline listing when different radars had been detected and then when the signal was lost, correlating the radar types with different ships, like “LANZHOU” and “YULIN.” The only time he’d ever seen names in all caps like that was in U.S. Department of Defense handouts …
9 September 2016
0920 Local Time
CNN New York Bureau
Time Warner Center, New York
Chris Laird snagged the phone on the first ring. “That was four and a half minutes,” she observed, smiling.
“Where did you get this?” Mac demanded.
“Mac, I said, I can’t tell you.”
“This looks official.”
“Exactly how official?” she asked.
Mac sighed. “I’m not a military expert, but I know that the U.S. has planes that can eavesdrop on foreign radar and radio signals. This file is an electronic record of the battle, and looks like exactly the type of things those aircraft would do. It lists Chinese and Vietnamese ships that took part in the battle by name, even the weapons they fired at each other. I’m not sure that the two combatants have such a complete picture.”
“And it matches what you’ve received from other sources?”
“It’s more like, ‘Does my other data match this?’ and the answer is yes.”
She relaxed a little. For whatever reason, Hardy was giving her good stuff—maybe very good. “Okay, then. Mac, let’s go ahead and work on a joint piece, something you can post on your blog and I can use as well.” She checked her watch. “We can aim for the noon feed.”
“I need to talk to your source.”
“Absolutely not!” she said. “They made it very clear that they’d speak only to me.”
“Christine, this smells like halibut a few days after the refrigeration fails. Why are they giving us this information?”
“The source hinted there might be more stuff after this.”
“More?” Mac’s voice was rising, and Christine could hear him pause and take a breath. “All right. Think it through. This type of information is normally highly classified. Someone with access to classified data is giving it to you. Wouldn’t you like to know why?”
“I remember some Chinese proverb about gift horses. We are at no risk. We do not have clearances, so we’re under no obligation to keep it secret,” retorted Christine.
“That’s the reporter in you,” Mac replied. “And I feel the same way. But I don’t want my blog turned into some sort of tool for someone with an ax to grind. I’ve heard too many horror stories. Let me speak to him or her and clear up a few questions. Otherwise, you can do what you want, but I will not partake of the mysterious fruit.”
“All right,” Laird conceded reluctantly. “I’ll have to call them, and then they’ll call you. Stay close to your phone.”
9 September 2016
0930 Local Time
By Water
Nova Scotia, Halifax
The caller ID read as UNAVAILABLE, but Mac grabbed the phone. This wasn’t a telemarketer. “This is McMurtrie.”
“Mr. McMurtrie, I understand you’re reviewing the information I sent to Ms. Laird.” The voice was male, strong, and the speaker was probably not a young man. Mac couldn’t tell anything more than that. It wasn’t being electronically altered, as far as he could tell, but anything was possible.
“It’s very impressive, and I should thank you for your generosity. But I’m concerned about your motives.”
“I don’t suppose you’d be satisfied with my desire to support your blog? I am a fan, by the way. You’ve done a lot of good work.”
“Thank you,” Mac replied automatically, “but this information comes from within the U.S. government, and was or is classified.”
“Was,” the voice replied. “I’m not breaking any laws, and neither are you by publishing it.”
“That’s a relief. I don’t want to appear as a witness at your trial, whoever you are, thank you very much. I’ll take you at your word that’s it’s an ‘authorized,’ if unconventional, release of sensitive information. Will you also guarantee that this is not fabricated or altered?” pushed Mac.
“This and anything else I send you will be factual to the best of my ability.”
“Anything else? There’s more?” Mac tried to suppress his excitement and failed completely.
“Yes, there is. For example, your theory about the loss of Vinaship Sea is correct. She was sunk by two Yu-6 torpedoes fired by a Chinese Shang-class SSN. That’s the NATO designation. The Chinese call it the Type 093 class.”
Migod! Mac felt amazement mixed with satisfaction. And he reads my blog.
The voice continued, “This touches on my purpose, and I’ll share some of that with you. There’s a lot of misinformation about the war out there. Most is noise, but some is harmful; for example, the staying power of the Chinese. People with bad information make bad decisions. A poorly informed public might demand that their politicians do the wrong thing.”
“How does information on the Battle of Spratly Island correct that?”
“It doesn’t, but it shows you and Ms. Laird that I can provide something of worth, and when you post it, enhances your blog’s reputation as a valuable source of information. First we will get their attention, then tell them what they need to know.”
“I’m not a U.S. citizen, but I’m no enemy of America, either. Do you promise that this information is not meant to harm U.S. interests?”
“For what it’s worth, I can promise, absolutely, that the information I give you is meant to advance U.S. interests. In this case, that includes ending the ‘Great Pacific War,’ as you call it, as quickly as possible. I’m sure Hector would be honored.” Mac smiled at the reference to his personal hero.
“I’ll even answer questions, within reasonable limits.”
Mac felt a small thrill, remembering what he’d already been given. But he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He mentally ran down the popular topics on the blog forums. “A lot of people are asking about Liaoning, the Chinese carrier. She hasn’t left harbor since an engineering casualty on August eleventh. Can you tell me her current status?”
“That’s a very good question, Mac. I’ll see what I can do. It’s been a pleasure, but I don’t expect I’ll speak to you again, at least not for the foreseeable future. You can pass any future questions through Ms. Laird. I enjoy reading your blog. Keep up the good work.”
Whoever it was broke the connection before Mac could thank him or say good-bye.
9 September 2016
1200 Eastern Daylight Time
CNN Headline News
“This is CNN breaking news. In a massive series of predawn airstrikes, Indian air force planes attacked Pakistani air bases, ports, and army installations. At the same time, reports from crossings in the northern and southern border areas with India have described sharp fights between Pakistani border police and Indian regular army units. It’s clear the Indian Army is crossing the border in strength, but the Indian government has only released this short statement.”
The anchor was replaced by the recorded image of an Indian Air Force major, reading a prepared statement. “The Indian armed forces have begun a series of defensive operat
ions designed to protect Indian territory from further outrages like the Pakistani-sponsored assault on our navy base at Visakhapatnam. Our intelligence has information that even more vicious raids are being planned, so we have taken this action to protect our homeland.”
A map of southwest Asia appeared, and the anchor explained, “India has declared the entire coast of Pakistan to be a war zone, and that ships of any country in those waters risk being sunk without warning. An official Notice to Mariners was filed by India a little over two hours ago saying that the ports of Karachi and Gwadar are mined. A similar Notice to Airmen covers commercial flights to Islamabad, Lahore, and Karachi, stating an aircraft using the fields may be shot down.”
The anchor’s image returned. “The only response from the Pakistani government has been to condemn the Indian attack and promise to repel ‘every invader from our holy ground by all necessary means.’”
“In another breaking development, CNN journalist Christine Laird has provided a new, more complete description of the Battle of Spratly Island.” An image appeared, of the now-famous photograph of a shattered Vietnamese missile boat. It had become one of the defining images of the war.
“This battle, waged four days ago between the Vietnamese and Chinese navies, is credited with stopping the Chinese advance in the South China Sea, although at high cost. According to the narrative, which is posted on the now-famous Great Pacific War of 2016 Web site, on Bywater’s Blog, the Chinese amphibious assault ship Jinggang Shan, a civilian container ship loaded with supplies, and the escorting frigate Xiangfan were all sunk by Vietnamese cruise missiles. Another warship, the guided missile destroyer Lanzhou, was crippled by a newly-revealed antagonist, which fired a different type of anti-ship missile, the ‘Yakhont,’ while the Vietnamese ships fired the ‘Uran’ missile. Both types are manufactured in Russia, but the Vietnamese ships are only fitted with Uran.
“The depth of the analysis on Bywater’s Blog, a privately operated Web site, has added to the reputation of its administrator, Hector McMurtrie, a naval expert and author. Sales of his most recent book, Steam Propulsion Plants of the Cunard Line Ships, have soared in the past week.
“Chinese and Vietnamese officials refused to comment on the accuracy of the information, although the Vietnamese naval spokesman did admit that he was aware of the report, since he read the blog every day.”
9 September 2016
1300 Local Time
White House Situation Room
Washington, D.C.
The ambassador’s expression was all they needed to see. They’d set up the VTC less than half an hour ago, based on the earliest time the U.S. ambassador to Pakistan could reach a secure terminal. She was hurried, almost breathless. She didn’t bother trying to look pleasant. “I just came from a meeting with the foreign minister. It’s chaos over there. This has caught them completely by surprise.”
“Us as well, unfortunately,” Kirkpatrick remarked.
“You’ll have to take that up with my counterpart in Mumbai,” Ambassador Wright snapped. “The only reason the minister would see me at all was that we already had something set up for today. We had about fifteen minutes. He shared some information, I offered moral support, and got out.
“According to the minister, there have been attacks all along the border with India, most probably diversions. They know a large column of vehicles has crossed in the north, opposite Lahore, and is driving west. They’ve also had reports of crossings in the south, but it’s so sparsely settled that they’re sending reconnaissance units to find out what’s going on.”
“What about their nuclear forces?” Patterson asked. She sounded worried, and the ambassador acknowledged her concern.
“I asked, as politely as possible, ‘If they were comfortable with the security of their nuclear forces.’ The minister said they’d been on heightened alert since India’s affiliation with the Littoral Alliance was revealed, and have been dispersed to safe locations.”
Wright added, “The minister made a point of telling me that no nuclear-weapons-related sites have been struck so far. Air bases, vehicle parks, road junctions in the north and south have all been hit hard. Based on what he was the most angry about, their air force has especially suffered. Our attaché in Karachi also reported a frigate in the harbor was sunk at the pier by precision-guided bombs.”
“But no nuke missile sites,” Kirkpatrick observed. “They don’t want to give the Pakistanis a reason to launch.”
“How about invading their country? Doesn’t that count as a sufficient reason?” Patterson countered.
Wright, listening to the conversation, shook her head sharply. “No, Doctor, the Pakistanis won’t launch unless the situation is dire. They can hurt India, of course, but India can destroy Pakistan as a modern nation. They only have three cities with populations over a million, with most of the educated population and almost all the commercial, scientific, and military infrastructure. For Islamabad, it’s virtually a doomsday option. Frankly, they depended more on Chinese support to deter a conventional invasion.”
“And the Chinese have their own problems right now,” Kirkpatrick completed. “What’s your assessment of the military situation?”
“If you mean what my attachés think, they unanimously agree that the Pakistani armed forces have been completely surprised and are reacting poorly. My attachés were just as surprised. Everyone assumed India was involved with the war in the South China Sea, and most of the Pakistani intelligence assets have been tied up with supporting the Chinese.”
“Including the terror attacks.”
“Entirely true, sir. Excuse me, but I have things I must attend to,” Wright said, a little impatiently. “Do you or the president have any special instructions?”
“None beyond safeguarding U.S. citizens and keeping us informed.”
“With the ports and airfields at risk, the land routes to Afghanistan are the safest option left. We’re getting our people moved here and to Quetta, and then across the border to Kabul and Kandahar. All the civilian flights that usually land in Pakistan are using those airports as well.”
“Good luck, Madam Ambassador. We’ll talk again at…” Kirkpatrick glanced at the clock. “0500, your time.”
“We’ll be here,” she responded, trying to sound positive.
10 September 2016
2200 Local Time
Littoral Alliance Headquarters
Okutama, Nishitama District
Tokyo, Japan
Miyazaki found him sitting in one corner of his office on a cushion. “Sensei, Admiral Orihara is here. He has arrived.”
Komamura started, as if waking from sleep, and looked at the clock. “Oh no! It’s ten o’clock already?”
“Yes, sir. Minister Hisagi was there to greet him, and will bring him here after the admiral has greeted the other members of the working group.” She sounded a little impatient.
“I will have to apologize to the admiral. I have been disrespectful. I should have been there, too.”
“You were missed, sensei, but I told them you were very fatigued.”
He smiled, and bowed slightly toward her. “Nodoka-chan, you are a great help to me. And may I compliment you on your appearance?” She blushed, but his remark was accurate. She’d replaced her customary tracksuit with a skirt and blouse more appropriate to the occasion.
A knock at the door made them both turn to see Minister Hisagi with an unfamiliar officer in his dress blue uniform. Steadied slightly by Miyazaki, Komamura quickly rose.
Hisagi said, “Dr. Komamura, may I present Vice Admiral Orihara Izaya, Japan’s new military representative to the Littoral Alliance working group.”
The professor thought he was much younger than Kubo, maybe in his late forties, and taller, although that wasn’t a challenge, but he still wasn’t as tall as Komamura. His hair had hardly any gray …
Komamura realized he’d been silent too long, and bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I am in your hands.”
Orihara returned Komamura’s greeting, bowing deeply. “It is an honor to meet you, sensei. I look forward to working hard together.” As he straightened, the admiral noticed the small shrine in the corner of his office, near where Komamura had been sitting.
A small table against the wall held a portrait of Admiral Kubo Noriaki bordered in black. It was flanked by incense holders, and different items had been placed in front of the photo: a bottle of Kirin lager beer, a set of the admiral’s shoulder boards, a referee’s fan from a sumo game, several white chrysanthemums, and a dagger, to keep away impure spirits.
A pair of small sake bottles sat on a tray next to the cushion. “I was having a drink with Admiral Kubo,” Komamura explained.
“My deepest condolences on the loss of your good friend,” said Orihara. “It is regrettable that his death must be kept from the public, at least for a time.”
Komamura nodded, grimly. “His family understands the need for security. Their sacrifice will be honored as well when he is finally given a proper funeral.”
Miyazaki had picked up the tray and turned for the door when the professor said, “Wait, please. Gentlemen, will you have a drink with the admiral and me?”
Hisagi and Orihara each took a small cup from the tray and Miyazaki filled all three cups, then added a few drops to a cup in front of Kubo’s photo.
“He died in battle, you know, as surely as if he’d been on a ship,” Hisagi remarked. “That’s what they’re saying at the ministry.”
Orihara quoted, “‘Duty is heavier than a mountain, death is lighter than a feather.’ He can rest now.”
They drank, and Miyazaki collected their cups. Komamura set his down a little unsteadily, and Hisagi and Orihara nodded to each other. After arranging to meet at breakfast tomorrow morning, and Miyazaki promising to make sure the professor got to bed, the two quickly left.
* * *
They walked in silence for some time, until they were finally in Orihara’s newly assigned quarters, and Hisagi had closed the door. The admiral said, “I had no idea he was this bad. I’d heard stories, but this…” His sentence trailed off into silence as he sat. “I feel as if we’ve lost our compass.”