Fully loaded and hungry for vengeance, Kelvin Carter and his crew aboard Headbanger Two attacked the second large formation of Chinese attackers from maximum range. The second formation of Chinese aircraft was four H-6 bombers, copies of the thirty-year-old Soviet Tupolev- 16 Badger heavy bomber; each bomber carried two huge Hai Ying-4 Sea Eagle anti-ship missiles. Two H-6 bombers were hit by Scorpion missiles and were forced to break off their attacks, but the other two got within range of the Navy frigates, fired their cruise missiles, and turned for home. Carter’s crew launched their last six Scorpion missiles at the Sea Eagle missiles, destroying two of them. The Duncan managed to destroy one with its 76-millimeter gun and damage the last one with its Phalanx close-in weapon system, but even damaged, the three-quarter-ton cruise missile devastated the Duncan. The missile hit the aft starboard quarter, tearing a huge hole in the stern.
It took several more minutes for Atkins and McLanahan both to declare the area secure. At least eight Taiwanese F-16 and F-5 fighters were nearby, patrolling the airspace from sea level to forty thousand feet. “JD, this is Headbanger, how copy?” McLanahan called.
“Loud and clear,” the James Daniel's tactical action officer responded. “We show clear to the north. The Taiwan air force showed up and kicked ass to the south.”
“What’s your status?”
“We both got hit pretty bad,” the TAO reported. “We’re still under way, but fires up on deck are still not under control. Duncan is heavily damaged—we’re setting up to receive survivors. She probably won’t make it.”
“Crap,” McLanahan cursed aloud. “JD, Headbanger One is going to clear off north and hit the tanker. Headbanger Two will stay on station, in case the PLAN shows up. We’ll be rotating our coverage as long as you need us. We’re fully anti-ship capable. We’ll still need the Taiwan Air Force in the area to help with antiair coverage.”
“Copy, Headbanger,” the TAO replied. “We sure would appreciate all the help we can get. I sure as hell won’t bad-mouth you zoomies anymore.”
“Sorry we couldn’t be more help,” McLanahan said. “We’ll be watching your backside. Headbanger One clear.”
THE PRESIDENT’S STUDY, WHITE HOUSE OVAL OFFICE, WASHINGTON, D.C.
WEDNESDAY, 18 JUNE, 2151 HOURS ET
It was right there, on a CNN “Breaking News Special Report”—live video of a sinking Chinese ferry, about twenty miles from Quemoy Island. Again and again, CNN also replayed the videotape that had been turned over to them at their Beijing bureau by the Chinese government—a video showing two missiles slamming into the ferry, the explosions, the fire ... CNN was also showing videotape of a similar attack on the Chinese aircraft carrier Mao Zedong, during Reunification Day celebrations. First they showed the fireworks, the children, the flags, the awestruck civilians on tour—and then they showed the devastation just seconds after torpedoes from an unknown attacker slammed into the carrier. The videotape clearly showed the damage, showed the injured and dead civilians . . .
. .. and it showed what caused all that death and destruction, a captured Taiwanese attack submarine, forced to the surface, captured, then sunk by Chinese shore- and carrier-based naval forces.
“My God,” someone muttered. “This is the most incredible tape I’ve ever seen. We’ve got to respond right away.”
“The first damn thing I want everyone to do is to calm down,” the President of the United States, Kevin Martindale, said as he swiveled uncomfortably in his chair. The members of his staff and the military representatives were on their feet watching the TV monitors in absolute shock and horror. “I’m not taking any more phone calls from the media for the rest of the evening, especially from CNN. I don’t care if Jane Fonda herself calls asking for more information.” With the President in his study adjacent to the Oval Office was Philip Freeman, the President’s National Security Advisor; Robert Plank, Director of Central Intelligence; and chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Admiral George Balboa, representing the uniformed services.
Entering last and standing beside and slightly behind the President was his chief of staff, Jerrod Hale. “Secretaries Chastain and Hartman are not available,” Hale told the President. “The Vice President and Mr. Ricardo are en route, ETA ten minutes.”
“I need to talk to Jeffrey and Arthur ASAP,” the President told Hale. Turning to his assembled advisors, the President began, “Phil, get us started.”
“Yes, sir,” Freeman said, opening a red-jacketed folder with the words “TOP SECRET” emblazened on the cover. “About an hour ago, approximately seven p.m. Washington time, eight a.m. Hong Kong time, several very unusual and deadly events occurred in the Formosa Strait region almost simultaneously. We’re seeing the press reports of what happened, but I have the preliminary field reports, and they paint a much different picture.
“First, several missiles were fired at two U.S. Navy frigates operating near Quemoy Island,” Freeman said. “One frigate, a Naval Reserve Fleet ship named the Duncan, was hit by two torpedoes and slightly damaged. The EB-52 Megafortress was in the vicinity at the time of the attack, and the crew reported that it detected the missile launch and pinpointed the ship that launched the missiles. Without permission, the Megafortress attacked.”
“OP Brad Elliott hit his intended target, too—except it turns out it was a Chinese passenger ship ” Admiral Balboa interjected hotly. “Brad Elliott disregarded orders and blew the shit out of a passenger ferry”
“Casualties?”
“The Chinese report sixty-eight civilians dead, over two hundred injured,” Freeman said somberly. “Unable to verify it yet, but judging by the videotape, that’s an accurate number. Rescue efforts are under way, as we can see.”
“Oh, God,” the President murmured; then, in a much louder, angrier tone: “What possible explanation did Elliott give?”
“The crew claims that the ferry was towing a barge that made it look like a cruiser or destroyer on radar, and that the rocket-powered torpedoes launched at the Duncan and ]ames Daniel did come from the direction of that ferry,” Freeman said. “They said they were just protecting the frigates.”
“General Freeman, I wish you’d stop being a mamas boy to Brad Elliott,” Admiral Balboa exploded. “Technical glitches, wolf in sheep’s clothing, saving the day, spooks and goblins—forget the damned excuses, because he’s got a million of them. The bottom line is that Elliott attacked again without permission. He didn’t do a complete target assessment and fired two heavy missiles at a noncombatant.”
“But the Megafortresses redeemed themselves,” Freeman went on. “They stayed with the frigates and helped to fight off a Chinese air attack on the frigates. According to reports from the James Daniel and the Megafortress’s crew, China launched several formations of fighters and attack planes, including four heavy bombers with large anti-ship cruise missiles. Elliott and his wingman in the Megafortresses used their antiaircraft weapons to shoot down a number of the attackers; Taiwan Air Force fighters helped to fight off several formations of Chinese fighters.” “None of this would have happened,” Balboa argued, “if Elliott hadn’t put those two missiles into that ferry.”
“I disagree, Admiral,” Freeman said. “Those fighters and attack planes were on the scene within minutes of the attack on the ferry. This was a planned attack, made to look like retaliation for our attack.”
“That’s bullshit, Freeman.”
“All right, all right,” the President said. He turned to Freeman and said, “Looks like Brad Elliott screwed up big-time, Philip. Is he on his way back to Guam?”
“No, sir,” Freeman replied. “Both Megafortresses are on station with the James Daniel and Duncan, in case any Chinese naval vessels try to approach. The Taiwanese air force is also overhead, in case there are any more air attacks.”
“Sir, we’ve got to stop fucking around with these damned B-52 monstrosities and take command of the region,” Admiral Balboa said, completely abandoning all courtesy toward his commander in chief. “We
need the Independence to move into the Strait to assist the frigates in recovery and withdrawal, right now. And we’ve got to initiate an investigation of that missile attack—Elliott and whoever else screwed up has to be held liable. Congress, our allies, and the American people are going to scream bloody murder over this. Elliott needs to have his nuts chopped off!”
“Admiral, I warned you, watch your damned mouth when you’re speaking to the President,” Jerrod Hale snapped.
“Jerrod, easy—I’m upset, too,” the President said. “All right. Terminate all the EB-52 patrols, recall those bombers back to wherever the hell they came from—hide them away someplace where the press can’t find them, until we have the spin under control. When they get back to Guam, I want a full investigation of the incident ...” he paused, then added, “. . . with the intention of filing criminal charges against Elliott, McLanahan, whoever was in command of the aircraft that fired the missiles against the ferry. This is going to be serious.” He paused again, then added, “And get the Independence group under way to take up patrol positions in the Strait. We can use commercial or allied salvage services to assist the frigates, but the reason we’re moving the Independence into the Strait is to help the frigates.”
“Yes, sir." Balboa nodded and was on the phone immediately, issuing the orders. “In the meantime, sir, what do you suggest we tell the press about the attack on the ferry?” Balboa asked. There was a definite edge in his voice this time, as if he was rubbing the President’s nose in the filth caused by his decision to send in the EB-52 Megafortresses. “We will not blame this attack on my frigates—they obeyed orders and did not open fire, unlike your damned thingamajigs.”
“Admiral ...” Jerrod Hale warned him, picking up on his disrespectful tone of voice. Balboa glared at Hale, but kept silent by taking an unrepentant sip of coffee.
The President did not show any anger at the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. “We tell them . . . that we had armed military patrol aircraft in the area that mistakenly fired on the ferry,” he said. “No elaboration beyond that. We can report the rest in closed-door briefings if necessary, but no details about the Megafortresses to the press.” Freeman and Hale nodded; Balboa showed little reaction. “All right. What else happened out there?”
“At almost the exact same time, sir, the Chinese carrier Mao Zedong was hit by three torpedoes as it lay at anchor near Hong Kong,” Freeman replied. The President’s jaw sagged, and he muttered a barely audible “Ah, shit.” “It was part of Reunification Day celebrations; it carried a skeleton crew of about a thousand, and approximately a thousand civilians, most of whom had slept aboard the ship. The carrier reportedly sustained major damage. Casualties are reported to be heavy.
“The carrier responded with an attack by several helicopters, at which time they attacked and damaged a Taiwanese Sea Dragon-class submarine, forcing it to the surface. The crew was taken off the sub, and then it was blown to bits and sunk by gunfire from the carrier Mao."
“Jesus,” the President muttered. “What does the ROC say about it?”
“Taiwan hasn’t issued any statements so far,” DCI Robert Plank responded woodenly. The President looked surprised, then frustrated, then angry at the news. “We know that a couple Taiwanese subs have been shadowing the Mao since it returned to Hong Kong after the attack on Quemoy—we’ve got two subs in the vicinity as well, although we were careful to stay out of Hong Kong waters. Apparently the Taiwanese navy decided the Mao was too inviting a target and decided to be heroes and sink the son of a bitch. Their plan backfired.”
“Simultaneously, it appears that a Taiwanese C-130 transport plane was detected near Lang-Ch’i Army Base, twenty miles west of Matsu Island—over the Chinese coast,” Freeman went on, shaking his head in disbelief. “China claims that Taiwan was attempting either to drop a bomb on the base or insert spies or commandos into the area. The transport plane was shot down. Mainland China retaliated by launching rocket attacks on the Matsu Islands, the Taiwanese island chain located just off the Chinese mainland northwest of Taipei.”
“What in hell is Taiwan up to?” the President asked. “Have they gone crazy? This is a damned nightmare! I want. . . Holy shit, look at that!” They looked—and they were stunned beyond belief. There on CNN was a fuzzy, grainy black-and-white photograph—of the EB-52 Megafortress! The announcer said that the photograph had just been received by the Chinese News Agency, who had gotten it from the People’s Liberation Army Air Force. It was a head-on shot, so it was difficult to make out details or get any solid identification—but for the men in the room, the identification was painfully easy. The B-52 fuselage, the unusual tail surfaces, the pointed nose, the weapons pod—it was the EB-52 Megafortress, all right.
“Very nice gun camera picture—of a top-secret stealth attack plane! ” Balboa said sarcastically. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, isn’t it?” “Save it, Admiral,” the President said irritably. He noticed Jerrod Hale answering the phone on his desk—shit, he thought, it’s starting already! Thirty seconds after the pictures were shown on CNN, the phone calls were coming in hot and heavy. “The official response about those photos is going to be ‘no comment.’ Is that clear?” Hale caught the President’s attention. “What?”
“State Department is getting flooded with calls from the foreign ministries of Japan, Russia, North Korea, Iran, about a dozen others— they all want to know if we’re at war with China and if we have a fleet of those Megafortresses deployed around the world‘ready to strike,” Hale said. “They all want an explanation.”
“We can expect calls to start coming in from Congress, too,” the President said wearily. “All right, Jerrod, I’ll start making calls—the Japanese prime minster first, then the Leadership, then Russia, then any other Asian allies that want a call. North Korea can go screw itself in the corner. What about Taiwan? What’s Lee’s explanation, dammit?”
“As best as we can figure without talking to President Lee,” Freeman said, “Taiwan wanted to knock that carrier out of commission, then cripple Lang-Ch’i Army Base, which is the main staging point for China’s invasion force for the Matsu Island chain.”
“One plane? One bomb dropped by a transport plane? What kind of damage can one transport plane do?” the President asked.
“The transport was a C-130 Hercules,” Freeman replied, “and Taiwan has the BLU-82 bomb in its inventory—that’s a 15,000-pound fuel- air explosive bomb. It’s enough to level anything aboveground for a radius of two miles. We don’t have any verification that Taiwan employed a Big Blue, but it would be a logical weapon to use against Lang- Ch’i Army Base.”
“Hold it, hold it—we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” the President said irritably, getting more and more confused. “Why hit this Lang-Ch’i base? Were the Chinese getting ready to invade Matsu? Was it supposed to be a preemptive strike to avert an invasion?”
“The PRC attacks on Matsu and Quemoy have been expected for many months, ever since the Chinese war games in 1996,” Freeman replied. He searched his notes, then added, “China had deployed the 117th and 134th Marine Divisions, both reserve units, to Lang-Ch’i last year; they deployed the 54th Group Army, including the 165th Airborne Regiment, as well—nearly two hundred thousand troops in that area alone.”
“Under the circumstances, I wouldn’t blame Taiwan for lashing out in these two areas, if in fact they did,” the President said. “So did China take Matsu?”
“Latest word is that no PRC troops have been landed on Matsu,” Freeman replied, “but China has a very limited amphibious landing ship fleet, so a massive marine invasion was not anticipated right away Matsu Air Base was bombarded and heavily damaged. But overall it appears that China is showing a bit of restraint.”
That was a bit of welcome relief, however little. “What in hell is going on around here?” the President repeated. “Is Taiwan trying to goad China into attacking? If so, it’s a suicidal plan.”
“Mr. President, the first thing I�
��m noticing here is the coincidental placement of these video cameras on both the carrier and the ferry,” Plank said. “They’re obviously not civilian models—they look almost broadcast quality. Both cameras recorded the weapons impacts as if they knew exactly where they’d hit—they weren’t photographing persons or events on deck, but pointed out over the side. China also got those tapes to the CNN bureau in Beijing in an awful damned hurry—they didn’t even bother to review the tapes themselves, as if they knew what would be on them. And the observation that General Freeman made earlier—that those Chinese attack planes showed up within a half hour of the strike on the ferry—well, it looks suspicious.”
“Bob, are you suggesting that China staged these attacks?” the President asked. “How is that possible? How could they know a Taiwanese sub was approaching the carrier? How would they know we had a bomber near that ferry, and how would they know when or if they’d launch missiles? It’s a real stretch.”
“I know it is, sir—I’m making an observation based on what I’m seeing on the news, with Chinese-supplied video,” Plank said. “But it wouldn’t be hard to set up. The attack on the carrier would be easy— simply lay some torpedoes in the water, shoot ’em off, and take pictures as they hit the carrier. The ferry attack would be harder to stage, but not impossible—lay the torpedoes in the water, send the ferry out when our Navy ships approach, set off the torpedoes by remote control, and hope the frigates fire back. I don’t think they anticipated the Megafortress attacking, but they knew we had stealth aircraft in the vicinity.”
“It’s crazy, Bob,” the President said. “Let’s concentrate on what we know, instead of what we don’t. I want—”
He was interrupted by Jerrod Hale’s hand on his shoulder. “Prime Minister Nagai of Japan, on the ‘hot line’ for you.”
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