The Shark Mutiny

by Patrick Robinson

  “So this meeting now constitutes the finalization of the attack?”

  “Guess so, Alan. We have to start somewhere. So let’s get into it—let’s hit these commie bastards hard…one for the Schaeffer, right?”

  “One for the Schaeffer it is, Arnie.” General Scannell was not smiling.

  Admiral Morgan pulled up a big computerized chart on a wide screen at the end of his office…. “Come on over here, guys,” he said, striding forward. “Let’s take a good look at the position.”

  The chart showed the vast delta area between the port of Rangoon and the coastal mouth of the Bassein River, 125 miles to the west. This is the fabulous rice bowl of Burma, interlaced by rivers, streams, canals and tributaries, which irrigate millions of acres of farmland. Through here the mighty 1,350-mile-long Irrawaddy River (today it’s Ayeyarwady) splits and meanders to the ocean, packed with freshwater fish and monsoon waters that originated hundreds of miles to the north toward the Indian and Chinese borders.

  It is a sprawling, wet tidal basin, with great promontories of land jutting out between the estuaries of nine rivers, all of which flow into the hot, steamy corner of the Bay of Bengal known as the Gulf of Martaban. The agricultural produce from here feeds much of the nation and much of China, too. The endless paddy fields are interrupted by mango swamps and the occasional monsoon forest, but this land is F-L-A-T.

  Admiral Morgan frowned and pointed his ruler at the far left section of the chart. “This last wide stretch of water right here,” he said, “is the Bassein River Delta. It’s the widest of the south-flowing waters in this area, and you’ll see that this island, the long triangle, here, on the left-hand side of the estuary, is called Haing Gyi. You will also notice that the goddamned place sits in about six inches of water, which is a pretty fucking crazy area to build a Navy base on, even if you happen to be a Chinese prick.”

  General Scannell came very close to blowing his coffee clean down his nose, so unexpected was Arnold’s swift turn of phrase. But he moved in closer, and observed the wide area of green swamp that stretched all the way along the northern shoreline of Haing Gyi, almost joining it to the Arakan Peninsula.

  “Well, we ain’t going in that way,” he said, unnecessarily. “And what about this light blue area that stretches right across the southern approach?”

  “Oh, it’s much better in there,” said the Admiral, sardonically. “There is a maximum of nine feet shelving to about nine inches…and on the face of it, gentlemen, we have to assume the Chinese are nuts.”

  But his face relaxed, and he continued, “But nuts they ain’t. This is a very strategic corner of the ocean. As we have discussed before, warships from here have the capability of controlling the Malacca Strait. And if I pull up this chart a bit, get us in closer, you’ll see what the little bastards are up to….

  “Right here, in this central stretch of the island’s east coast, we got water…. See? More than forty feet right up to the shore…and it stretches out here into what looks like a natural, but narrow, channel, all the way up from the mouth of the estuary, minimum depth forty feet, maximum fifty-five feet.

  “However, if you follow it down here…about four miles, the whole damn place goes shallow again…so if you’re trying to get in from the ocean, you got a ten-mile stretch with only twenty feet of water. Which you’d think would be impossible. Right here we got a deepish water throughway into deepish water jetties. But you cannot get a big ship in there.

  “But, I know they can…because I happen to have located, on a very poor photograph, a Chinese Kilo-Class submarine, right in there, moored alongside. And that little bastard draws thirty-five feet on the surface, and they didn’t carry the sucker in, did they?”

  “Probably not,” replied Admiral Dixon with mock seriousness.

  “What they’ve done is dredged a channel, which does not appear on any Navy charts,” said Admiral Morgan. “And what’s more, it isn’t going to appear on any Naval charts, because they’re not about to allow anyone in there. There’s been a major building program by the Chinese on that eastern shore, and they have a very neat little situation—a fully equipped Naval dockyard, right in an area where there are very few other facilities for over-hauling a ship or even refueling. And they got it all to themselves, and they’re going to be an even bigger pain in the ass than usual if we do not, gentlemen, get ’em the fuck out of there ASAP.”

  “What do they use for power?” asked the CNO.

  “I’m not absolutely certain, but Lieutenant Ramshawe’s on the case. And I appreciate the question. That island is in a remote place, and it’s difficult to see what they are using. But the area is well lit and plainly operational. It’s possible they are using the reactor of a nuclear submarine, but we can’t find it. And the water is not deep enough for it to hide. Ramshawe thinks they have a major power plant, but we can’t yet tell the source. Anyway, when we do, I think we should destroy it…. Gentlemen, we have to get them outta there.”

  “Do you think China has a major single objective in all of this, Arnie?” Bob MacPherson looked pensive.

  “I think it’s pure expansion, Bob. For so many years they’ve restricted themselves to their own area of the world, which ought to be big enough for anyone. But they increasingly see themselves as powerful global players. They are envious of us, and see themselves as our equals. They covet our influence, our allies and, above all, our muscle.

  “But what they really covet is the world’s oil supplies. Because as China gets rich, it’s going to require more and more fuel. And most of that fuel is in the Middle East and south central Asia. Of course there’s a ton of it in Siberia, but that means negotiating with Russia, which is not about to trade away one of its very few natural resources.

  “Which brings us back to the Malacca Strait, the single great throughway of all oil to the Far East. If we allow China to dominate the Malacca, we give them the power to force some tankers right around Indonesia, and that’s going to cost the Japanese a vast amount of money. All their fuel costs will rocket upward, natural gas, propane, jet fuel and gasoline.

  “And the key to China’s domination of that strait is their new base in Burma. Without it, they’re damn near helpless, because they simply live too far away. And, gentlemen, right now we have world opinion on our side. We can force them right out of the Bassein River Delta, and no one would support any of their claims of U.S. bullying. That’s what we’re going to do.”

  “Anyway, who’s to know what happened if the SEALs pull it off?” asked the CNO.

  “China will know, because we’ll fucking tell ’em. But they have made the mistake of striking the first blow against the West with that minefield in Hormuz. And then literally conquering Taiwan. Everyone knows they deserve whatever the hell’s coming to them. And my guess is that if we hit Haing Gyi, the ole Chinks are going to go real quiet for several years.”

  “Meanwhile how the hell do we get in there to hit it?” asked Bob MacPherson. “And since we’re going to tell them what we’ve done, what’s wrong with just bombing the sonofabitches?”

  “The USA does not bomb people, without a drastic and just reason,” replied Admiral Morgan. “However we may justify an attack on China’s Indian Ocean east base, it is no more than a power play—the superpower bangs the pretender into his rightful place. Second place.

  “But it’s so much better that the guy with the busted nose is the only one aware of who’s whacked him. That way it goes quiet. Some accident, on some remote island, in the Bay of Bengal. That’s the way to run the world these days. Keep it quiet, keep it tight, but make it count.”

  “Well, you were right about the refinery in Hormuz,” said Admiral Dixon. “We’ve heard nothing from China by way of complaint.”

  “That’s because they know,” said Admiral Morgan. “They know and they understand. And quite honestly, I don’t think they care. Their objective was Taiwan, and they were prepared to pay the price for it. I doubt they’ll ever bother to rebuild that
refinery. But in the next several months you’re gonna see the start of a trans-Sino pipeline, all the way from Kazakhstan to their eastern seaboard. It’s the Chinese way. They’ll build the world’s longest ditch, containing the world’s longest pipe, just the way they built the world’s longest brick wall, and the world’s greatest dam at Three Gorges. They have the labor, and they’re not afraid to use it. A lot of it, one suspects, slave labor.”

  “Meanwhile,” said Admiral Dixon, “how the hell are we going to get the guys into Haing Gyi, and what are they going to do when they get there?”

  “First question, how to get in.” Admiral Morgan moved closer to the chart, zooming back a little to show the water depths out in the bay.

  “And that’s a problem,” he said. “You can all see the fifty-meter line out here, fifteen miles from the central seaway into the estuary. I’m not completely crazy about this chart, but they have the fifty-meter line well defined. It follows the coastline very accurately, all the way down from the narrow border with Bangladesh. Anywhere you look it’s showing depths of around one hundred sixty-five feet to the left and one hundred twenty feet to the right. So we gotta assume it’s more or less correct. So our submarine is going to have to make a rendezvous point somewhere right there on that line, where she can still hide in one hundred fifty feet of water.

  “But that’s up to the SEALs and to Shark’s CO. More important is the insertion of the troops. And I’ve given it a lot of thought, because that ASDV is so damned slow. And fifteen miles is a long way at only six knots, and that only gets us into the mouth of the estuary. It’s another ten up to the deeper water off Haing Gyi. That’s a total running time of more than four hours, and it leaves us with the ASDV in a pretty vulnerable spot.

  “My conclusion, therefore, is that we bring the guys into the estuary, which will take two and a half hours, and then creep up the new channel as far as Rocky Point, right here on the southeastern headland of the island, and let ’em swim in. We then have the ASDV return to the Shark.”

  “Leaving the guys alone in there?”

  “For a short while. Because I think we have to get ’em out with fast, rigid inflatables. The possibility of pursuit by the Chinese is high, and they may have fast patrol boats out searching. If they locate the ASDV crawling through the mud, in a channel less than forty feet deep, with nowhere to maneuver right or left, we could be light one boatload of very precious guys. And that would not be good.”

  “You mean we set up a rendezvous point somewhere right along the island beaches?” asked General Scannell. “Then get ’em out fast, running all the way back to the submarine at high speed on the surface?”

  “No alternative. ASDV in, for maximum stealth, when we’re not expected. Top speed run out, when the Chinese Navy is searching around in the dark, but may not catch us. Those fast inflatables make twenty-five knots. The guys will obviously get a good start…maybe fifteen minutes…and that way they have a real shot no one’s gonna locate ’em.”

  “Okay, Arnie. Sounds good, so long as they don’t get caught in the base. We got a contingency to rescue if the crap hits the fan while they’re still working?”

  “No, Alan. No I’m afraid we don’t.”

  “Nothing?”

  “How can we? We wouldn’t know if they were in trouble. The only thing we can do is have an accurate rendezvous point on the island, with fast boats waiting to evacuate. The ASDV cannot fight, and the submarine is too far away.”

  “Jesus, that’s a tough call for the guys. Who’s in charge?” asked Tim Scannell.

  “Commander Rick Hunter.”

  “That makes me feel better. But it’s still tough. I hate to send the guys in with no backup.”

  “So do I. But they will be armed to the teeth, and very thoroughly prepared. Chinese guards wouldn’t have a prayer against them if push came to shove.”

  “They didn’t have one against Ray Schaeffer, either,” replied Admiral Dixon. “But shit happens.”

  The four men were thoughtful for a few moments. And as they each contemplated the horror of discovery while the SEALs were ashore, plying their devastating craft, the door swung open and the beautiful Kathy O’Brien came in bearing a brown envelope addressed personally to Admiral Arnold Morgan, delivered by hand from Fort Meade to the White House.

  “Just a moment,” said the Admiral. “This might be just what we need. If it is, it should have been here two hours ago. But if Borden’s taken my advice, the newest observations are gonna be real thorough.”

  And thorough they were. Fort Meade had apparently solved the mystery of the power source of the sprawling Naval complex on Haing Gyi Island.

  Report on Haing Gyi Island Power Source

  Comprehensive overheads have revealed no external power sources or supplies to Haing Gyi Base. This includes possibilities of the use of a generating ship or nuclear power plant.

  Power supplies for operation of the base facilities all appear to emanate from a single large building in the center of the base.

  Detailed examination of the foundation area of this building, in particular its size and scope beyond the building itself, suggests a possible geothermal source of power. This is confirmed as entirely consistent with local geophysical characteristics, supported by the known existence of mud volcanoes within 15 miles of the Haing Gyi facility.

  An attachment is a full engineering statement of how geothermal energy is tapped. It indicates its vulnerability, and opportunities for disruption/accident.

  Arnold Morgan mumbled about another cup of coffee, and asked his three colleagues to “hold everything” while he skipped through the notes on geothermal power. Bob MacPherson poured, and Arnold yelled “KATHY!” once again, and asked the goddess of the West Wing to have three copies made of the photograph of Haing Gyi.

  Three minutes later, the Admiral looked up, complained that his coffee was half cold and told his guests that the principal mission of the SEAL attack on the Chinese base would be to destroy a power station, and with it the entire electronic network that runs from it. There would also be some other Naval hardware that had to go, but basically they were knocking out a major power supply, which would shut down the base entirely.

  The three color photocopies arrived and were duly studied by Admiral Dixon, General Scannell and Bob MacPherson. Admiral Morgan pointed out the building in the center and asked if anyone knew how a geothermal power station worked. And no one did.

  “Well, what you’re always looking at is an area where heavy rainfall has filtered through the earth’s surface for millions of years. And right here we have such an area. It’s sandy in a lot of places, and it gets a lot of sudden, fierce rain from the monsoons in a very flat basin, where it can hang around and filter through.

  “And right here we have an area with volcanic activity, where the earth’s plates can pry apart, shifting way below the surface, forming giant, hollow caverns thousands of feet deep. Now in these caverns we get huge underground lakes, and the bottoms of those lakes are so deep the water becomes colossally hot from the earth’s core.

  “If you drill down in the exact right place, you hit one of these lakes, and the compressed, boiling water flashes off into steam. If you let it, it will blast three thousand feet into the air, in a clean, clear white plume of steam. The Nevada Desert is the big steam-well area in the USA. Some of ’em light half of San Diego and occasionally Las Vegas.”

  He paused to let everyone absorb what he was saying. “Right,” he added. “Got that? Now look at the picture. See that building? Well, here’s how it got there. The Chinese geologists located the steam lake and capped the drill hole. Then they dug deep and poured a solid concrete foundation, probably fifty yards by fifty yards by fifty yards deep.

  “Clean down the middle of this, they sank their main shaft into the vast cavern that contains the lake. They capped it with a massive valve at the top, right on the concrete, and then they built their power-generating station all around it, right on that big con
crete cube. They installed the electric turbines to run on steam power, and when they completed their electronic grid for the whole dockyard, they opened the valve.

  “The steam surged straight up the shaft in the middle of the fifty-yard cube, into the system, and began to rotate the turbines. The clever little Chinks thus had virtually free, endless electric power for years to come. It sounds complicated, but it’s not really. It’s just a kinda upside-down dam with the force coming upward from the earth, rather than downward from released water. One thing about electric turbines: The only thing you have to do is turn ’em.”

  “And our guys have somehow to get in there and blow it up?” said the General.

  “I think that would do very nicely,” replied the Admiral. “Because that would shut down the base indefinitely.”

  “Is John Bergstrom on side?” asked the CNO.

  “He is. Right now they’re consulting their main demolition guys, and I have to get this stuff to Coronado right away. Then two of the main SEAL explosives officers will leave immediately for Diego Garcia to brief Commander Hunter and his team.”

  “Do we have any handle on how well this place is guarded?”

  “Fort Meade’s been watching it carefully for some weeks now. And there is some security. But not overwhelming. Haing Gyi is in such a strange, inaccessible place. It’s literally surrounded by Burma, whom the Chinese have been financing. It looks to me as if they have not even considered the possibility of an attack on the base.

  “But of course it is a military installation. And there will be patrol boats, and guard patrols on the jetties. But we have not found any sign of patrols in the interior of the base. Just some activity close to the visiting ships. The trick is to get in there nice and quiet. Then cause absolute havoc, and get out while everyone’s trying to find out what’s going on. It nearly always works. Surprise. You can’t beat surprise.”