“I think we snagged something,” the quartermaster said, in a quiet, exasperated voice. “Lots of pressure on the controls, and we’re losing response.”
“Shit,” the skipper said. “Back two-thirds.” The skipper waited until their speed through the water had decreased to zero, then ordered, “All stop. Rudder amidships.”
“All stop. Rudder amidships, aye . . . sir, my rudder is amidships,” the helmsmen responded.
The Miami had a closed-circuit zoom TV camera in a pressure vessel on the top of the sail, and the captain and quartermaster studied the picture. Sure enough, a large black net had completely enveloped the nose of the submarine. The net was huge—it engulfed the entire front of the sub all the way from the nose up to the sail. Swiveling the camera athwartship, they saw the net covering the sailplanes; aiming the camera aft, the net was angled upward away from the rudder and propeller, but was even now starting to drift down toward the stern. The top of the net could not be seen, but it appeared to extend far beyond camera range, even possibly to the surface.
“I think we’re caught in a damned drift net,” the quartermaster muttered. “It’s got to be a thousand feet long and two hundred feet high, at least. Japanese drift nets are dozens of miles long sometimes.”
“That’s impossible—you can’t stop a seven-thousand-ton submarine with a nylon net,” the captain remarked. “Besides, what’s a damned drift net doing in a big ship channel? Who would... ?” The skipper answered his own question: the Iranians were hunting for American submarines. “Let’s get a diving team suited up and ready to assist if needed. It looks like the stern’s still clear—let’s see if we can back out of this thing. Helm, all back slow.”
But it was too late. As they began to try to extract themselves from the drift net, the top of the net began to sink even faster, and minutes later, the rudder and propeller appeared to be covered by the net. “Damn, the net’s in the prop,” the captain muttered.
“That’ll be the end of the net, then, sir,” the quartermaster said. “Our prop would break even a steel cable net.” But he was wrong. Instead of slicing the net up into pieces, the net simply began winding itself around the propeller blades.
“What in hell... all stop, allstop ” the captain ordered. “Christ, what in hell is that net made of? Helm, all ahead slow, let’s see if we can kick that net clear.” But it was no use—the net was completely fouling the propeller. “Dammit, dammit... all right, looks like we’ve got to put the divers over the side,” the captain said. “Once we cut the prop free, we’ll go as close to the bottom as we can and try to turn north and sail out the side of the net.” He flipped on the ship-wide intercom: “Attention all hands, this is the captain. Looks like we’re caught in a big drift net. Chief of the boat, report to the helm, stand by to deploy diver salvage team.”
“Bridge, sonar, heavy high-speed screws bearing three-two-zero, range eight thousand yards and closing fast. Large patrol vessel or small corvette or frigate. I’m picking up a patrol helicopter flying low over the water, too.” Moments later, they heard the first active pings of a sonobuoy dropped just a few hundred yards away—the search for the trapped sub had begun. The next several sonobuoys were much closer—they had been pinpointed. The patrol vessel was soon joined by several more, all converging on their location.
The captain’s jaw dropped open in surprise. Not only was this not a random, unlucky accident—it now appeared to be an intentionally set trap. The Iranians had deployed some kind of unbreakable net in the ship channel right behind their attack submarine Taregh, and they had snagged themselves an American attack submarine.
“I think the fuckers found us,” the captain said. He hit an intercom button: “Comm, this is the captain. Deploy the satellite antenna buoy, send a distress signal immediately.”
The antenna buoy had reached the surface and was transmitting for about three minutes when the first depth charge was launched from the Iranian frigate and splashed into the water over the trapped American sub.
GOVERNMENT HOUSE, BEIJING, PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF CHINA WEDNESDAY, 25 JUNE 1997, 0301 HOURS LOCAL (TUESDAY, 24 JUNE, 1401 HOURS ET)
The Central Military Commission meeting broke into loud cheers and uncharacteristically hearty applause as the members watched their TV monitors. The CNN “Early Prime” news broadcast from the United States—practically all TV sets in Government House had been tuned to CNN twenty-four hours a day since the conflict with Taiwan had begun— opened with video taken from Iranian navy sailors in the Strait of Hormuz south of Bandar-Abbass. They showed an American nuclear- powered attack submarine on the surface, covered with an immense net in which they had become entangled while spying on the naval facilities near Bandar-Abbass. Iranian warships surrounded the sub, with dozens of guns of all sizes trained on the helpless American warship and its crew, who had been forced to surrender after a massive depth-charge barrage, and who were now kneeling up on the sub’s deck, hands on top of their heads. The video was being transmitted directly from Iranian vessels to the Islamic Republic News Agency offices in Tehran, where CNN had a news bureau, and from there the Iranians allowed the live video uplinked directly to the United States for rebroadcast in the middle of the afternoon in the United States and in “prime time” in Europe.
Proudest of all in the room was Admiral Sun Ji Guoming himself. After leading the successful bombing raids against Chinese Taipei—and performing the secret missile attack against North and South Korea, which only a few members of President Jiang’s command post staff knew about—he had returned like a conquering hero to Beijing to receive the praise and gratitude of Paramount Leader Jiang Zemin and the entire Politburo of the Chinese Communist Party. But this latest action was icing on the cake—the ignoble capture of an American attack sub well within Iranian territorial waters.
Sun was proud because he had suggested the trap. He had devised a plan years ago to use huge drift nets made of Kevlar, as light as nylon but stronger than steel, to try to trap enemy submarines. Each net cost millions of yuan to make, but Iran, North Korea, and several other nations were happy to make the investment. It was simply a matter of patience: creating an inviting target for enemy spy subs, then laying out the net and hoping that an unwary, complacent sub captain sailed into it.
A louder volley of laughter erupted when the American news showed three old fishermen in their dilapidated old boat, which the Iranian Navy had allowed into the patrol area, their dirty canvas trousers pulled down around their ankles and their bare asses hanging over the side of the junk, defecating into the Strait of Hormuz next to the American submarine. CNN also showed people of all ages throwing buckets of trash and sewage onto the captured sub, burning American flags and then tossing them into the Strait. A piece of video even captured a brief glimpse of an antenna buoy that had broken loose from the American sub when the depth-charge attack had begun, and retrieved by a small motorboat with young children at the helm. The children circled the area, scanning the water with flashlights and torches to try to find more souvenirs.
“Excellent, excellent!” President Jiang shouted, clapping and smiling like a schoolboy at a football match. “I am almost embarrassed for the American president and his submarine sailors! He must be the laughingstock of the entire world!” He received congratulations and acknowledgments from several Politburo and CMC members, then stepped over to Admiral Sun. “What do you think the Iranians will do with their American captives, Admiral?”
“I have already been in contact with the Iranian military’s chief of staff,” Sun replied, rather wistfully. “The crew will be tried as spies, and their vessel held. It is quite a catch for them, and it is perfect payback for what the United States did to the aircraft carrier Khomeini when it was in their hands. In time, the crew and the vessel will probably be released, but not until the Iranians have examined and photographed every square centimeter of that submarine.”
“You seem disappointed, comrade,” Jiang said. “Their violation of internatio
nal law is obvious to all. Should they not be made to pay for their crime? ”
“I believe they are paying more severely now than anything the Iranians could possibly do to them,” Sun said. “Destroying a helpless, hapless submarine and its crew would be cruel, and the Iranians would lose face in the eyes of the world. Sun-tzu tells us that to attack the enemy’s tao is more hurtful than attacking his armies. I respectfully suggested that the Americans be released, but I do not think the Iranians will listen to my suggestion. Perhaps if you could call the Ayatollah Khamenei directly, he might listen to you.” China and Iran had forged a strong new military alliance in the past few months, and the level of cooperation between the two nations had grown rapidly despite the severe damage the aircraft carrier Khomeini, now the Mao Zedong, had sustained while in Iranian hands.
“Very well—I shall do as you suggest, Comrade Admiral,” Jiang said, with a smile. “I will of course issue a communique demanding an explanation from President Martindale as to why his submarine was so far into Iranian waters.”
“May I suggest you follow up the communique with a live televised address on CNN or the British international news network, demanding an apology?” Sun added. “Nothing galls the American people more than to be forced to offer an apology, especially to an Asian or to one from the Middle East—both are seen as far inferior races. It will help to solidify the opposition to President Martindale’s military and foreign affairs policies.”
“Very good—I shall instruct my staff to do as you suggested,” Jiang said happily. He turned to accept the congratulations of more high-level Party members, then turned back to Sun and asked, “So. What is the next step, Admiral?”
“My task is nearly complete, Comrade President,” Sun said. “My objective was to eliminate the United States as a threat to Zhonggua and to pave the way for us to retake Formosa. My task is done.”
President Jiang looked startled. “Your task ... is finished?” he asked incredulously. “But we have not retaken any territory, and the armies of the world are on heightened alert against us.”
“General Chin and the Peoples Liberation Army may retake any of the rebel-held islands at his leisure,” Admiral Sun said casually. “There is none to oppose him now. But I suggest we do nothing but offer overtures of peace, friendship, and reunification to everyone—I predict our loyal brothers on Formosa will choose to be reunited with us very soon. The elimination of the rebel Nationalists’ major weapons of war, and the erosion of the Western alliance structure in Asia, means that the Nationalists are defenseless. They can choose reunification ... or death.” “But what about the Americans, Comrade Admiral?” Jiang asked. “Will we not soon face the wrath of the American military? Certainly the threat from them has not yet diminished?”
“The United States dares not attack us now—they are in the wrong, and will be forever chastised throughtout the world if they attack,” Sun said confidently. “The North Korean Peoples Army is massing on the demilitarized zone and will probably attack, and now the Iranians have captured proof of additional American aggression against them, so the conflict in the Persian Gulf may threaten to reignite. These conflicts will occupy all of Americas attention—Taiwan is not as serious a concern to the United States compared to Korea or the Persian Gulf.”
“You are obviously correct,” a Politburo member commented, “because the United States does not directly threaten China as yet. They have their nuclear missiles and bombers on alert, but even their lawmakers are opposed to their deployment and urge negotiations. They may even sponsor legislation to kill President Martindale’s attempt to recognize the rebel Nationalist governments independence, and support reunification.”
“We do not know what will happen in Washington, comrade,” Sun Ji Guoming said. “But all in all, it does not matter. America is confused and splintered, and it has confused and fractured its Asian alliances as well. It can no longer oppose us.”
“But what about the invasion of Quemoy?” Jiang asked. “Our troops are restless as medieval warhorses, biting at the bit and ready to honor themselves in battle. Why not begin the attack now?”
“Is there still a danger of radiation or fallout from the surface-to-air missile attack?” one of the Politburo members asked. “Is this why you do not begin the invasion?”
“It is not because of radiation, comrade,” Sun replied. “We do not invade because we do not need to invade.”
“What. . . ?”
“Sun-tzu teaches us that victory is best achieved by attacking an enemy’s tao instead of its armies or cities,” Sun explained. “We have three hundred thousand troops stationed around Quemoy Bay, ready to begin the assault. We may take the island and capture nearly fifty thousand rebel troops anytime we wish. So we have already won the battle, comrades. With the tip of our sword touching the rebels’ chest, we do not need to thrust it into their heart to prove our domination or power. The rebels have been defeated, but it would be better for them to surrender to us. I expect to receive terms of surrender at any moment.”
OVER THE FORMOSA STRAIT, NEAR XIAMEN, FUJIAN PROVINCE, PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF CHINA
THAT SAME TIME
The attack began with a single AIM-120 Scorpion missile launch, but it was the deadliest—because it downed the Chinese Ilyushin-76 airborne radar plane stationed over the Formosa Strait near Quanzhou, which was monitoring all air traffic between Fuzhou and Shantou, the vital Chinese military bases opposite Formosa. The EB-52 Megafortress was thirty miles away, flying just a hundred feet above the sea, tracking the 11-76 with its 360-degree radar array on the dorsal fuselage fairing; the Scorpion air-to-air missile hit the fuselage of the 11-76 squarely at the right wing root, shearing off the wing and sending the Russian-built plane and its twenty-two crew members spiraling into the Formosa Strait. Within seconds, almost all of the Chinese military’s long-range surveillance capability had been eliminated.
It was David Luger’s first kill after returning to the Megafortress’s crew; and if he hadn’t been so busy finding and lining up more targets, he would have stood up and whooped for joy. But the mission, and the killing, had just begun.
Because of the completely unknown performance capabilities taking off from the Republic of China’s Kai-Shan underground airfield complex, the Megafortress was lightly loaded for this mission. Each of the two rotary launchers in the bomb bay contained four Wolverine cruise missiles and two Striker attack missiles, the configuration mixed so the attacks could continue even if one launcher was damaged or had malfunctioned. The Megafortress also carried one Striker attack missile on each wing weapon pod, along with four AIM-120 Scorpion air-to-air missiles in each pod—there were no Stinger airmine rockets in the tail cannon. The weapon load was a full 12,000 pounds under normal mission capacity. To save even more weight, no fuel was carried in the fuselage tanks, except the lowest amount necessary to stay within the weight and balance center-of-gravity envelope, which saved an additional 50,000 pounds.
“Crew, stand by for bomb-bay missile launch,” Patrick McLanahan announced. “Quadruple Wolverine missile launch. Radar coming on ... radar stand by.” McLanahan took a thirty-second satellite update for the navigation computers, in order to tighten down the accuracy of the system as much as possible prior to launch. Then he checked the accuracy of the nav computers by taking a three-second attack radar fix and then comparing where the aiming crosshairs lay on the stored radar image. When McLanahan moved the crosshairs onto the exact preprogrammed spot, the difference between the radar fix and the nav computers was only fifty-seven feet. He decided to accept the satellite fix.
“Launch point fix in, bomb doors coming open.” He clicked on the voice command switch: “Commit Wolverine attack.”
WARNING, MISSILE attack initiated, the computer replied, and automatically entered a launch hold until the order could be verified.
“Commit Wolverine attack,” McLanahan repeated to verify the order.
LAUNCH COMMIT, warning, bomb doors open, the compute
r’s female voice responded. The Megafortress’s bomb doors slid inside the fuselage, and the forward rotary launcher in the bomb bay released the first AGM-177 Wolverine cruise missile. In eight-second volleys, three more Wolverine missiles dropped clear of the bomb bay, two total from each of the forward and aft rotary launchers. The missiles glided in a shallow descent as their flight computers sampled the air mass and did a microsecond flight-control check, exercising hundreds of tiny microhydraulic actuators built into the skin, then ignited their turbojet engines, throttled up to full power, and sped off toward their targets. As they began their 500-mile-per-hour flight, they downloaded navigation data from the GPS navigation satellite constellation and adjusted course, following the flight plan transferred to their computers from the Megafortress.
All four Wolverine missiles carried SEAD, or Suppression of Enemy Air Defense, packages in its sensor bay and three internal munitions bays. The missiles’ sensor section contained combination infrared and radar-homing sensors, which would lock onto an enemy radar, then slave an infrared sensor onto the vehicle or building carrying the radar, and send targeting data to the missile’s navigation computer. Two munitions compartments contained a total of eighteen anti-vehicle “skeets,” and one weapon bay contained twelve Sky Masters ADM-151 decoy devices. The Wolverines had a preprogrammed flight plan based on Jon Masters’s NIRTSat satellite data showing where some known garrisoned road- mobile SA-5 surface-to-air missile (SAM) sites, Honggi-2 SAM sites, and heavy antiaircraft artillery sites were located.
When the missiles flew within the estimated lethal range of the mobile SAM sites, the Wolverine missiles ejected a decoy glider. The decoys were tiny gliders with a specially designed shape, and contained tiny transmitters that made each glider appear as big as a full-size fighter— to a Chinese SAM radar operator scanning the skies for enemy aircraft, the decoys made it appear as if an enemy attacker had suddenly appeared out of nowhere right on top of them. When the SAM site operators activated their target-tracking radars to try to shoot down the “attacker,” the seeker head in the Wolverine missile detected the signal and locked onto the location of the emitter, then used that new position plus its satellite navigation system fix to update its flight plan.
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