by Larry Bond
“That’s good. We can work out a straightforward arrangement to keep their ships and aircraft away from my boats.”
“You’ll be doing the same with the PLAN,” added Patterson.
Simonis stopped dead in his tracks. His expression was one of disbelief. He seemed unsure as to what he had heard. “Pardon me, Dr. Patterson. Did I hear you correctly; I need to coordinate operations with the Chinese Navy? Tell them where my boats are?”
“Yes, Commodore. The president already has an appointment with the Chinese ambassador and he will make a pitch for this course of action as the best way to stop Chakra. It’s absolutely essential that we cooperate with them in this endeavor.” Patterson’s voice had taken on a stern tone.
“With all due respect, ma’am, that is insane! The Chinese are still trigger-happy from the war!” Simonis argued. “And even if you can work out some sort of arrangement, which I doubt, their performance during the war doesn’t fill me with any confidence. They could very easily wander into one of our patrol areas, shoot any submarine contact they find first and maybe ask questions later!”
Jerry saw Joanna take a deep breath. There were deep furrows on her brow and her lips were tightly pursed. Uh, oh, he thought. He’d seen that look before.
“I understand your reservations, Commodore; in fact, the secretary of defense has voiced similar concerns. But the bigger picture requires us to work closely with the PLAN. If we don’t, and one or more Chinese ports gets wiped off the face of the earth, then we can look forward to dozens of nuclear explosions over China, India, and probably Pakistan. I don’t think I need to explain what the implications of such a scenario are for the United States, do I?”
Patterson let her last point sink in before moving on. “Therefore, the president has decided that working with the Chinese is in our nation’s best interest, and I suggest you act accordingly. Your squadron is the linchpin of our efforts to stop this insane plot. As such, your headquarters will be the primary command and control facility and you will have OPCON of any U.S. assets that may be assigned to this mission.
“Expect the intelligence estimate on the likely port targets and an analysis of Chakra’s probable avenue of approach within the hour. Please forward any personnel and technical support requirements up the chain of command. Rest assured you have the highest priority. Good luck, Commodore, and good hunting.”
Before Simonis could say anything, Patterson got up and left the screen. Everyone in the Guam conference room was stunned. Pascovich’s enlarged image on the left-hand screen echoed what everyone else was feeling—absolute astonishment. Silence fell on the conference room. No one at Squadron Fifteen dared to say a word.
15
UNPLEASANT NEWS
6 April 2017
1730 Local Time
The White House
Washington, D.C.
* * *
It was 2:30 A.M. in New Delhi, but India’s Foreign Secretary, Gopan Jadeja, was awake and in his office when Lloyd called, still digesting the news of the failed raid at Visakhapatnam. At first he was unhappy, even angry with the news that the U.S. intended to notify the Chinese of Chakra’s departure, but finally admitted that India’s leadership was “distracted.”
“President Handa has been trying to manage the news of the disastrous raid, as well as the investigation into the conspiracy. It’s hard to know whom to trust. With the involvement of people like Vice Admiral Dankhar and Special Director Ijay Thapar, everyone in the government is now suspect. The president has acknowledged that we need to inform China, but wanted to wait. After all, it will take Chakra some time to get there.”
“And every hour of delay increases the plot’s chance of success,” Lloyd countered.
“The navy has been mobilized.” Jadeja bristled.
Lloyd was unimpressed. “It is unfortunate that there is so little they can do, in spite of their best efforts. Chakra is a very capable vessel. Because of the danger her mission puts us all in, the United States is using its naval assets to find and stop Chakra, by whatever means necessary.”
“What? Without coordinating with my government…”
“We are taking this action unilaterally,” Lloyd said firmly. “Since Chakra has gone rogue, this is not an action against the Indian government, with whom the United States wishes to have the best possible relations.”
Lloyd could hear the minister beginning to protest, but continued speaking. “In practicality, there is little the Indian Navy can do, especially once she enters the South China Sea. The only naval unit with the range to operate there is Chakra herself, and we both know her capabilities. If your P-8 aircraft can eventually be made operational, they would be welcome to join our own antisubmarine aircraft at Guam to help in the search.”
Jadeja sighed. “You are correct, Mr. Secretary.” After a short pause, he added sharply, “But, I’m afraid that’s not good enough.”
Lloyd, a little confused, replied, “The United States is willing to work with India in any way that facilitates stopping Chakra. We could rebroadcast the same message you are sending to the sub,” he suggested.
“That’s a good idea, but I had something else in mind,” Jadeja answered. “We need a representative to be present.”
Now perplexed, Secretary Lloyd said simply, “I don’t understand.”
“Most likely, someone, probably your navy, will have to sink Chakra. It is unlikely that everyone on the submarine is aware of the plot. Even as we agree that she must be stopped, we must also recognize that innocents will be killed, as well as the criminals that are carrying out the plan.”
“It is unfortunate,” Lloyd agreed.
“If this were an execution, there would be witnesses present. India requests that Captain Girish Samant be a witness to the events. As her former captain, he can provide valuable assitance, and should it become necessary to sink her, he can come back and tell us what happened.”
“You make a strong case, Minister Jadeja,” Lloyd admitted.
“I was an advocate for thirty-three years before I entered government service. Samant will have diplomatic status and plenipotentiary powers. There can be no question of his loyalty to India or his judgment.”
“All right,” Lloyd agreed. “The United States will allow Captain Girish Samant to act as India’s liaison and representative during this crisis in matters relating to Chakra. The headquarters for the search is Guam.”
“I will arrange transportation for the captain immediately, by the fastest possible means,” Jadeja replied. “India is grateful for your agreement in this extremely difficult time. Captain Samant’s presence will go far in assuaging any hard feelings that might arise between our countries.”
“In that case, we will look forward to his arrival.”
6 April 2017
1800 Local Time
The White House
Washington, D.C.
* * *
Ambassador Xi Ping didn’t waste time contacting Beijing for instructions. A late-day summons to the White House, without any warning, meant something unexpected, and probably bad news, not that he’d gotten any warning from back home.
Those turtles’ sons back in Beijing were only interested in keeping their jobs. China’s industry was in a shambles, her economy at a virtual standstill. People were hungry and dying of cold and disease, but the capital acted like the court of an ancient Chinese dynasty. Nothing but intrigue and backstabbing. They only knew what Xi told them, and if he didn’t know what this new meeting was about, the Politburo would know even less.
Xi had been more than lucky to accept the posting as China’s new ambassador to America. It was his “reward” for faithful service in the intelligence arm during the Littoral Alliance war, which to him meant that the careerists and sycophants wanted him well away from Beijing so he wouldn’t pose a threat to their positions. He now realized how fortunate he was to be clear of those toadies.
He’d reluctantly accepted, last November, and with just six m
onths in the post, was still getting used to the job. He’d met with President Myles several times, usually on business relating to the aftermath of the war or China’s desperate trade situation. It was unsettling that the American president’s Mandarin was better than Xi’s English.
The trip from Cleveland Park through Washington usually took fifteen minutes, but they were fighting rush-hour congestion. Although there was no set time for the meeting, Xi was impatient. He wanted to find out what was important enough to summon him and the defense attaché with no notice and no explanation.
Milt Alvarez, the White House Chief of Staff, was waiting for them, and ushered the two to a conference room in the West Wing, then left to notify President Myles. Dr. Patterson, the National Security Advisor, was already there, wearing a serious expression. Americans liked to smile when they greeted each other. It was almost a reflex. The best Patterson could manage when she shook Xi’s hand was grim and tight-lipped, and Xi began to worry.
She was well known for her work in addressing the massive environmental cleanup under way in the South China Sea. China didn’t have a post equivalent to America’s national security advisor. With so many generals as members of the Politburo, there was no lack of military knowledge or experience in China’s leadership. It said something about the separation of the military and politics in America that the president needed someone like that as his personal expert.
Patterson and the Chinese were still exchanging polite greetings when President Myles walked in, followed by a U.S. Navy admiral. He was introduced to Xi as Admiral Hughes, the Chief of Naval Operations. So it was a military matter. That’s why he’d been asked to bring Major General Yeng, the defense attaché. This was not going to be good.
Dr. Patterson walked over to the podium. “Mr. Ambassador, it is our unfortunate duty to inform China that an Indian nuclear attack submarine, INS Chakra, left the port of Visakhapatnam yesterday evening at twenty-one hundred their time, or noon today here.” She was speaking carefully. Xi could tell she had rehearsed the speech. She was also speaking a little slowly, probably out of deference to his less-than-fluent English. She was watching him closely, and Xi nodded to her to continue.
She took a breath. “The Indian government, in cooperation with the United States and Russian Federation, discovered a conspiracy within the Indian military that was intent on attacking China because of its support to Pakistan. The Indian authorities tried to arrest the conspirators, but they escaped.” She paused again, and Xi looked over to Major General Yeng, who looked worried, even alarmed.
Xi leaned close to Yeng and asked, “Is this Chakra the same nuclear submarine that India sent against us last year?” He spoke softly. There was at least two other Americans in the room that spoke Mandarin.
Yeng nodded. “She is a Russian-made Akula attack submarine, a very capable vessel. She sank more than her share of tankers and warships. She could hurt us, but I don’t understand what the Indians think they could achieve with just a single submarine.”
The Chinese ambassador turned back to face Dr. Patterson. “It is just this one submarine? Do you know their plan? What is their destination?”
Patterson swallowed hard and answered the ambassador. “They intend to approach five major Chinese ports and fire torpedoes fitted with nuclear warheads into each one.”
Confused, Xi looked to Yeng again. The general’s horrified expression told Xi he had understood Patterson’s English correctly. Xi shook his head, as if to clear it, and looked at the other Americans. Myles sat grim-faced, and finally said, in Mandarin, “It is true, Mr. Ambassador.”
Dr. Patterson said, “The Chinese ambassador to New Delhi will be briefed by India’s President Handa and his top officials. That way, your nation’s leaders will receive this extraordinary news from two different sources in two different countries.”
Xi sat silently, still absorbing the news, and she continued, “The Indian plotters have fitted Russian one-hundred-and-fifty-kiloton nuclear warheads, obtained from an arms smuggler, to five torpedoes. The weapons will likely be set to go off at the same time, after all five have been fired into their target port. We have a list of potential targets that was uncovered during the investigation.”
She handed Xi a single sheet of paper. It was a photocopy, and he could see the English names for ten ports, which were also some of China’s largest cities. Hong Kong, Shanghai, Qingdao, others. His chest was tight. He found it hard to breathe. He had family in Shanghai. “And five of these ten cities will be attacked?”
“Yes, Mr. Ambassador.” She seemed so calm, he noticed.
Yeng leaned toward him. “Can this be true?” he whispered.
The thought had not occurred to Xi. But what would the Americans gain by such an outrageous lie? And the Indians are telling the same thing to our ambassador in New Delhi? He shook his head again. “It’s incredible. I don’t want to believe this, but we will accept this as true, at least until we get more information.”
Xi was starting to grasp the implications of the India plot. “Didn’t the Indians understand that my country would retaliate after an attack like this?”
“If the conspirators’ plan had remained secret, the first sign would have been the explosions. It is likely the submarine would have remained completely undetected. Nuclear forensics would show that the weapons were of Russian origin, exactly like the one that exploded in Kashmir.”
Xi felt another shock, and confusion. “Kashmir was part of this plot?” he asked.
“Only accidentally,” Patterson answered. “The schemers had acquired six weapons, but Kashmiri militants stole one, and accidentally set it off. Thanks to that accident, the conspirators could blame Islamic terrorists for the nuclear attacks, and their Russian manufacture would clear India of any responsibility.”
“How did the Indians get these bombs?”
Patterson explained what they had learned about the barge off the coast of Novaya Zemlya, showing Xi the same photographs the Russians had given them. She described her personal role, and how the analysis of the stolen warheads had allowed the U.S. to determine that the device that exploded, and by inference the others, was a Russian 150-kiloton missile warhead. “I’m sure your government sampled the debris cloud and made their own analysis.”
Xi shrugged. “It’s possible, but I would not expect to be shown such an analysis, if it existed.”
“Ours was made public,” she replied. “Hopefully comparing it with your own will help convince you that our warning is real.”
She then described, without naming Petrov or Samant, how the Indian conspiracy had been suspected, then discovered, and finally confirmed. “President Myles informed the Indian government, including President Handa, of the plot two days ago. They acted to quash the plan, but failed to stop the submarine before it left port. We then discussed the situation and decided that we had to tell you immediately.”
Xi did the math. “They knew about this for two days and they couldn’t stop the submarine from leaving port? It doesn’t sound like they were trying very hard.”
“We don’t have a complete picture of what happened between when we notified the Indian government and when Chakra sailed,” Patterson admitted.
Myles cut in. “The Indian government,” he emphasized the word, “was as horrified by the plotters’ objective as we were, as the Russians were when they learned of it, especially since their nationals were involved in smuggling the weapons out of Russia and modifying them to fit in a Russian torpedo. Several high-level officials were undoubtedly involved, including an Indian Navy vice admiral, but they operated outside of, and without the knowledge of, the Indian government.
“Mr. Ambassador,” Myles continued, “there’s been enough blood shed already. The United States, Russia, and India all are willing to do all they can to stop this plan from succeeding. It will likely take the submarine about a week to reach Chinese waters. We can use that time.”
Myles gestured toward the CNO. “Admiral Hughes is r
eady to work with your navy and the Indian Navy to find and stop Chakra, sinking her if need be. In a sense, the conspirators have already failed, since their attack will no longer be anonymous.”
“Do the men on the submarine know that their plan has been exposed?” Xi asked.
Myles looked over to Hughes, who answered. “We’re broadcasting messages to Chakra on frequencies the Indian Navy says they should be listening to, telling them that the Chinese government has been warned and that President Handa is ordering them to come back. We don’t know if they’re listening, and if they are, if they will obey the Indian president’s order. But we’re trying.”
Xi Ping had been an army officer before accepting the ambassador’s post, but his intelligence background, as well as the recent Littoral Alliance war, had given him a good understanding of a submarine’s strengths and weaknesses. The ocean was vast, and if a submarine didn’t want to be found, then it was simple for it to avoid searching ships and aircraft. The few hostile submarines China had sunk in the recent war had been found and attacked after revealing themselves when they sank a Chinese ship.
This submarine would be attacking five of ten cities. Could the navy protect all ten? He wasn’t sure the navy could protect five, or even one. The People’s Liberation Army Navy had suffered many losses in combat with the Littoral Alliance countries. In the aftermath of the war, operating funds had been virtually eliminated. China needed the money to rebuild her industry, pay reparations, and buy desperately needed food and fuel.
And the admirals in charge had not been able to protest. After all, the navy had failed to protect China. Why should the country buy expensive replacement warships when the ones in service had failed to protect her vital merchant ships? The navy, stripped of funds and fuel, had essentially rotted at the pier for the last six months.
Xi realized that China would need to ask the Americans, and possibly even the Littoral Alliance navies, for help in finding and stopping this submarine. Even if China’s navy was not in rags, the threat was so great that logic demanded they should ask for assistance from anyone able to help.