by Joe Buff
“Unfortunately, the Axis have had a month to anticipate and get ready for Captain Fuller’s next sortie. We need to thoroughly spoof and decoy any cruise missiles that come in at Challenger tonight. A number of technical means will be used, just like when Challenger left from New London in the past. But because the terrain is so different here, flat and with no bedrock bluffs, Norfolk presents special problems. This is where the Seabees come in.”
Kwan was very determined now to get his job done well. Apparently he wasn’t briefed on all this stuff before, Jeffrey thought.
“All right,” Hodgkiss said, “let’s keep going.” He nodded at Johansen, and an image came on the screen showing dramatized pictures of how different warhead homing sensors worked. “The warhead terminal-guidance modes we need to worry about the most tonight are twofold. First, look-down radar that maps the terrain directly beneath the incoming missile, and compares it to prestored topographical contour data in the warhead’s computer memory. Such radar is difficult to jam reliably, since it has such a narrowly focused beam and receiver. . . . The other method is visual and/or infrared-target picture matching. The missile is preprogrammed to know what the precision target looks like. Software uses key appearance and shape parameters to be able to spot the target from any angle or altitude of approach, even if the target is moving. . . . The missiles may also loiter in midair, watching a particular spot for a target to emerge or pass by, if they can get themselves oriented on recognizable landmarks. . . . The local streams and riverbanks we can’t hide much, though we’ll try, but that’s where our ack-ack batteries are most concentrated. The Axis know this, so it’s the landward final approaches they’re more likely to use that most concern me. Commander Kwan, I think you can see now what your men and their equipment need to do.”
Kwan gave a toothy grin. “Our excavators and bulldozers reshape the earth contours between the shipyard and the sea. We keep making changes till we get the all clear, to keep the Germans guessing constantly. Make hills and hollows where there didn’t used to be any, move existing rises and dips by a hundred yards, pile up huge sand berms and dunes on the beaches. . . . And the fleet of heavy dump trucks full of gravel and coal off the hopper cars in the rail yards, we unload those to make instant ridges where there aren’t ridges now. It’s fiendishly clever, Admiral.”
“The bridges across the James River will be closed to traffic, just in case. They’ll be draped from above with radar-absorbing blanket material, unrolled from the cranes on the Seabees’ barges, again to prevent a missile getting a navigational fix that way. The blankets will have dazzle patterns already painted on, to further confuse any visual homing sensors. . . . Which leads to my last point here. Challenger herself will have to be thoroughly camouflaged. Details on that await the Seabees assigned to the dry dock itself. Plans and supplies will arrive there for them soon. And, Captain Fuller, I warn you, be prepared for anything in that respect. You’ll see other strange sights too, quaint or bizarre, before this is over. Mental flexibility is crucial.”
“Er, yes, sir.”
Hodgkiss raised a finger for emphasis. “None of this visible work begins until my say-so. Right now, those earth movers could simply be parked, awaiting transshipment by rail or truck to anywhere. The crane barges could be there to do routine bridge maintenance. The essential thing is to catch the enemy by complete surprise, start our terrain and visual spoofing from well inside their own decision loops. Act faster than they can react, change faster than they can adjust to or compensate for.”
People nodded.
“Commander Kwan, now you understand what’s really involved. Tell your people nothing they don’t need to know, but get them motivated. What they’ll be ordered to do will seem weird. That’s the leadership task you face. Work your people and machines very hard.”
“We won’t disappoint you, Admiral. Nor you, Captain Fuller. There’s a reason the Seabee motto is ‘Can do.’ ”
“Thanks,” Jeffrey said. He couldn’t help but like Kwan, a construction-worker supervisor whose job sites were battlefields.
“One other thing before you go,” Hodgkiss said to Kwan. “The threat of incoming missiles is real. Our land antiaircraft batteries and some antiaircraft warships in the bay will be on highest alert. Missiles, or parts of them and burning fuel, could hit anywhere. The same thing goes for antiaircraft ordnance. Whatever goes up must come down.”
“We’re used to being in combat, sir.”
“Have some of your excavators ready to dig instant slit trenches if required. Tell your men to not take any dumb chances. However, since it’s likely there’ll be more than one wave of missiles, they are to continue working as long as possible. And they are not, repeat not, to provide humanitarian aid to injured civilians no matter how pressing that need might be. I know this will be difficult for them.”
“It will, sir. Humanitarian aid is one of our long-standing traditions.”
“Leave it to the local first responders and the National Guard. That’s their job, tonight. Police and ambulances and firefighters are all plugged into the standing air-raid alarm communications grid. Your unit’s sole responsibility is protecting USS Challenger by diverting Axis missiles from that dry dock and the water right outside, and from the ship once she’s under way.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Very well. Thank you. Dismissed.”
Commander Kwan left the room. Johansen followed him out, then locked the two thick doors as he came back in. “Room is secure.”
“Next topic,” Hodgkiss stated. He gestured with his chin, and Johansen projected a map on the screen. The map showed a stretch of the Atlantic Ocean, leading to the Strait of Gibraltar and then the Mediterranean Sea, plus the other straits that led to Istanbul, plus the Suez Canal, the Red Sea, and the Gulf of Aden—leading past more choke points to the Arabian Sea and then the Indian Ocean.
“This is the theater of operations for Task Group 47.2.”
Everyone studied the map, which was generally familiar to most of those present.
“As you can all tell for yourselves, entry and exit to the Med will be extremely tricky. Certain diversions and subterfuges are planned. These will not be discussed here, because there is not a need for everyone here to know. Captain Parcelli, both you and Captain Fuller will be given sealed orders, to be opened only when in your staterooms on your respective ships.”
Parcelli nodded.
“I’ll go over only the bare bones now. Mr. Parker is to accompany Captain Fuller, to serve as debriefer and agent control once the person we want to extract is extracted. The extraction itself will be made via Challenger’s minisub, given the restricted waters involved. Challenger holds in her in-hull hangar a captured German minisub. Using hydrogen peroxide fuel, its speed and range are superior to our own ASDS design. High-test peroxide is extremely corrosive and flammable, but Imperial German Navy practice has been to run the risk. Because of the geography, we must run the same risk. However, as should be clear, this will aid mission stealth, using a German vessel near Axis-owned waters. The extraction team will be led by Lieutenant Estabo. His job is to covertly render ineffective the defector’s bodyguards. Mr. Salih will accompany Lieutenant Estabo’s team in the minisub, then work in plain sight as a Turk among Turks to make the personal connection with the defector himself once the groundwork is laid. Mr. Parker informs me that Mr. Salih has received extensive training for such a task. Mr. Parker also tells me that in the meantime, new communications will be established with the person seeking extraction, since the original on-scene contact quickly relocated for their own safety.”
“This all sounds good,” Parcelli said. He gave Parker a sidelong glance.
Seems he’s glad to not get stuck with the CIA spook on this deployment. . . . And I can’t exactly say I blame him, Jeffrey thought.
“Admiral,” Jeffrey asked, “what about German computer security? How does this defector get out any software or data we need?”
“Presum
ably the same way he already sent us what he sent us. Or maybe by another way. We expect he’ll make arrangements. It’s the first thing he’d attend to, if he’s genuine and thinking of crossing over at all.”
Jeffrey nodded.
“Next, the command structure of Task Group 47.2, which will consist of Ohio and Challenger.”
Captain Parcelli leaned forward to speak.
“No, Captain. You have more time in grade, but given the nature of the mission, Captain Fuller is designated Commander, Task Group 47.2. Captain Fuller has more experience in infiltrating constricted enemy waters with his ship, emplacing SEALs and freedom fighters clandestinely, and defeating enemy vessels head-to-head.”
Parcelli sat back in a huff, obviously displeased.
Hodgkiss cleared his throat. “Captain Parcelli, while under way you will, at Captain Fuller’s discretion, meet in person for orders and intentions that cannot be conveyed by him effectively via secure covert undersea acoustic link. Such meetings will take place submerged on the task group flagship, Challenger. You will attend such meetings by using one of your minisubs to move between Ohio and Challenger. Clear?”
Parcelli nodded, still not happy.
Trouble ahead, I think, Jeffrey told himself. I’ve never led a task group before, let alone on a mission as important and hard as this one.
“Part of your orders, both of you, regard emission control. While in the Med you are to maintain absolute radio silence. For optimized stealth, all communication will be one way, from Norfolk to you. Confirmation or cancellation of the mission will be broadcast at the time you’re expected to be approaching the point of no return, the Gibraltar Strait. Given Ohio’s best silent speed with the hydrodynamic drag of two minisubs as loads on her back, that should be in eight days.”
Eight days, plus maybe four more to sneak past Gibraltar, through the Med and to Istanbul. . . . Lord, we’re cutting it close. I remember what Mohr’s last message said, about having so little time: “Endless darkness if we fail.”
“Captain Fuller,” Hodgkiss snapped, “do I have your attention?”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“Good. For your information, Ohio retains good passive radio-receiver floating-wire antenna equipment from her days as a boomer. She has also been fitted with a new and stealthy towed raft-sled, to be used while well submerged. The raft bears a super-high-frequency dish to capture high-baud-rate satellite data, other antennas for enemy radar and signals intercepts, and a photonics mast to serve as a periscope.”
“The raft is that new British design?”
“Exactly. Ohio, in short, will be the eyes and ears above the surface for both ships. Ohio will relay to Challenger by acoustic link all necessary data and information obtained by such means. This will include as near as possible to real-time oceanographic and weather data. Lieutenant Reebeck will be responsible for helping provide these analyses, to aid the task group in choosing the stealthiest path through the maze of islands and choke points and shallows within the Med.”
Jeffrey glanced at Ilse.
“Like last time,” Ilse said, deadpan.
“It worked well last time,” Jeffrey said.
“To summarize for everyone present, Challenger’s flank speed is more than twice Ohio’s, and her crush depth is ten times greater. But moving slowly and not too deep for Ohio’s hull, even though the latter ship is half again as long, both vessels have fairly comparable stealth; as an ex-boomer, Ohio is superbly quiet. Challenger has eight torpedo tubes and her torpedo room holds almost sixty weapons. Ohio has room for only a dozen torpedoes and decoys, with four torpedo tubes. But Challenger holds only twelve Tactical Tomahawks in her vertical launching system, compared to over a hundred on Ohio even with her large SEAL complement comfortably housed. Furthermore, Challenger has little room for SEALs, and can only take one eight-man team, led by Lieutenant Estabo. Commander McCollough, on Ohio, will command the much larger SEAL company there. Both, and I stress both, ships’ SEALs are under Captain Fuller’s overall command.”
Commander McCollough and Felix both said, “Understood.” Parcelli seemed more irritated than ever. Hodgkiss continued, his voice clipped and all business.
“Challenger will serve as fast-attack sub protection for Ohio while transiting the Atlantic to the area of operations, and also after completing the mission. Once in the Med, however, Ohio will serve as an arsenal ship for Challenger. If despite all your precautions the task group is detected and attacked while in the Med, Ohio’s missiles and SEAL teams will provide essential heavy-fire support. Captain Fuller, for your information all of Ohio’s Tactical Tomahawks have the new high-explosive multivalent warhead and sensor package. Each can attack a ship or a moderately hardened target on land with equally high kill probability. One of Ohio’s silos is sleeved with a canister holding forty-two Polyphem antiaircraft missiles as well.” Subsonic, and launched from underwater, Polyphems could knock down antisubmarine helicopters and maritime patrol planes.
That does give us a lot of punch, though I’d hate to have to start shooting missiles. They’d give us away in an instant, acoustically and visually. But like Hodgkiss said, the missiles are a last resort.
“What loadout will Challenger get, sir?”
“I’m afraid supplies of the multivalent Tomahawks are limited. This afternoon you’ll receive six antiship and six land-attack high-explosive types. Your torpedo room is reserved for torpedoes, decoys, a handful of Polyphems, and off-board probes.” A torpedo tube could hold four Polyphems at once.
“Understood. What torpedoes?”
Hodgkiss became more serious, as if he himself was worried. “This ties in with the rules of engagement for Task Group 47.2. Notice that in the Mediterranean, every point of the sea is within two hundred nautical miles of part of the land.”
People knew this, implicitly, but even so a ripple of concern went around the room—not the least from Jeffrey. It meant that by the Joint Chiefs of Staff global ROEs for employing tactical atomic weapons at sea—as approved in advance by the president—inside the Med Challenger and Ohio could use no nuclear warheads even to defend themselves.
“I see you’ve figured it out,” Hodgkiss said. “I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be.”
The Axis won’t be so reluctant to go nuclear, especially near occupied North Africa, especially against Challenger and especially with their intentions for Plan Pandora.
“Because Ohio’s prime purpose is to serve as Challenger’s escort while in the Med, and, as I say, she can only carry twelve units in her small torpedo room, Ohio’s fish will remain as they are, all conventional high-explosive Improved Mark 48 ADCAPs.”
Parcelli seemed less and less pleased by the minute to have drawn this assignment.
“Challenger, however, will receive a mix of high-explosive ADCAPs and tactical-nuclear deep-capable Mark Eighty-eights.
“Sir?” Jeffrey asked.
“You have to cross the entire Atlantic from west to east, and later get your prize defector safely back to the States. Out in blue water, we don’t know what you’ll face, right? You might need to use nukes there. This way you will have the nukes.”
“I run defense for Ohio outside the Med.”
Parcelli snorted, as if to advertise that he was perfectly able to take care of himself.
Great, Jeffrey thought. This guy’ll be a joy to work with.
“There is one other thing, I’m afraid, Captain Fuller. Ohio’s salvage by the enemy, once scuttled, is deemed acceptable by the Pentagon. Provided of course that all crypto gear and classified sonar software are destroyed, and the crew follow the code of conduct for being taken prisoner of war. Ohio’s basic construction and hardware are old, or were made public several years ago, or are already known to the Axis through spies who worked for the Soviet Union and then Russia during the 1980s and later, after Ohio was built and then converted. If the task group gets in serious trouble inside the Med, Ohio’s purpose is to act aggressively, salvo her weapon
s at worthwhile targets as rapidly as possible, to hurt the enemy as much as we can and draw attention and fire away from Challenger, improving the latter’s chances of escaping and completing the defector extraction alone.”
“We’re counting on the enemy not expecting a pair of our nuclear boats to be working in partnership inside the Med? If they do detect one sub, they’ll prosecute the contact but it won’t occur to them to look for another sub in tandem right there?”
Parcelli sat stone-faced. Admiral Hodgkiss pressed on.
“Challenger is at all cost to avoid capture intact or nearly intact in the Med. Nor are any of her crew to be taken alive for interrogation, including as internees in neutral countries. Your state-of-the-art technology and capabilities are simply too valuable to be allowed to fall into enemy hands.”
Jeffrey waited. He knew he wouldn’t like what came next.
“The president has approved a modification to the ROEs, for this mission alone. There is one place, here.” Hodgkiss nodded to Johansen, who typed, and a red dot appeared on the map. “Here, essentially at the middle of a line from the southeastern tip of Sicily cutting across and down to the northeastern tip of Libya, separation from land is at its maximum in all directions, almost two hundred nautical miles. The water there, at twelve thousand feet, is also one of the deepest parts of the Med. Your orders, Captain Fuller, are that if in the last extreme your ship becomes trapped in the Med and is in immediate danger of capture or of being sunk, you are to make your best efforts to transfer your special new passenger, if extracted, to Ohio if the tactical situation permits, and then proceed to this point. Dive to the bottom and self-destruct with your own atomic torpedoes.”
Chapter 8
Jeffrey caught a courier helo to the shipyard, with a heavy packet of sealed orders in his locked briefcase. He wasn’t happy. A low-pressure system was forming somewhere west; high winds from the edge of a distant storm could ruin the infrared-opaque smoke screens intended for tonight, and enemy surveillance would be harder to mislead. The storm itself was forecast to pass through Norfolk during the daytime tomorrow, after Challenger was gone—the sky Jeffrey saw overhead from the helo was much too clear, almost cloudless. But Hodgkiss had said the mission couldn’t lose half a day or more to wait for the storm and use it as cover, and he’d hinted there’d be other problems if Challenger sailed in broad daylight—which Jeffrey would understand when he got to his ship and got under way.