by Larry Bond
The Chinese ambassador turned his thoughts into carefully phrased English. “China is grateful for the American offer. I do not have the authority to answer for my government, but I believe they will accept your proposal. What type of assistance could you provide?”
“Maritime patrol aircraft searching along Chakra’s path, surface ships and submarines as well, although they will take longer to get in position,” Hughes answered.
Ambassador Xi nodded his understanding, but turned to Yeng. The attaché replied to Hughes, “Then you will need to know the locations of our ships and submarines, and we’ll need to know your units’ positions, of course.”
While Major General Yeng discussed details with Hughes, Xi tried to imagine the reaction back in Beijing. This was a much greater threat than losing the Littoral Alliance war, with the only possible help coming from enemies and rivals. There was nothing good in his message, and he could only hope his superiors wouldn’t shoot the messenger. Inside, he cried for his country, already suffering. China’s humiliation would be complete—and that was the best possible outcome, the one they would have to hope for.
6 April 2017
2000 Local Time
The White House
Washington, D.C.
* * *
There had obviously been no time for Patterson to actually travel to Manila, the new headquarters of the Littoral Alliance. The Philippine capital was centrally located for the member nations: Japan, Taiwan, Vietnam, Indonesia, Malaysia, South Korea, Singapore, and India. Only six months after the end of the war, it was still very much a military headquarters, but diplomats from all the member nations were in residence.
Manila was also twelve hours ahead of the U.S. East Coast, so the American request for a videoconference had reached the alliance headquarters at the start of the working day. Most of the representatives were just arriving, and were available in relatively short order. The videoconference had been set for 8:00 A.M. in Manila, or 8:00 P.M. in Washington, but it was a little after that when her deputy stood in the open door and knocked twice. “We’ve got a quorum. All the seats are filled.”
Admiral Hughes was already in the room when Patterson arrived, and had been chatting with the different representatives as they logged in. The large flat-panel display showed the nine countries’ civilian and military representatives in the main conference room. Ambassador Liao of Independent Taiwan had the rotating chairmanship, and introduced the civilian and military officers.
While her staffer transmitted photographs, diagrams, and maps that were displayed for the alliance officials, Patterson laid out the plot, the source of the bombs, and the status of the investigation in India. The last diagram was a nautical chart showing Chakra’s likely position in the Bay of Bengal, as well as arcs showing all possible positions at different speeds.
As soon as it was clear that she had finished, Ambassador Liao immediately asked, “Why are we finding out about this from the United States, instead of our own Indian representative?”
Indian ambassador Kanna was actually back in India, so his place had been taken by his deputy, who pleaded ignorance. Nobody believed he would be privy to such sensitive information. Still, this meant there was no way to corroborate Patterson’s information.
Ambassador Suzuki, one of two diplomats speaking from their homes, said, “Dr. Patterson, we accept the information you present as true, but it’s simply too much to take in all at once. Logic would demand that you wish us to assist in finding and possibly—no, probably sinking one of our own ally’s submarines, to protect a country we recently fought. Destroying China’s economy by attacking her commerce was part of our strategy,” he reminded her.
“Not with nuclear weapons,” Patterson countered. She gestured to her assistant, who displayed another image, a map of the Chinese coast. “These are the ten ports on the list we obtained.” She nodded, and the aide pressed a key. “Here are the prevailing winds for late April in that region.” Arrows appeared showing the general easterly wind patterns over Asia. She nodded again. “And here are the positions of the fallout from a one-hundred-and-fifty-kiloton surface burst at each of the ten locations.” Elongated ovals stretched across the East China Sea, the Yellow Sea, and the South China Sea to the countries that lined China’s coast.
“We can’t know which of the ten ports the conspirators have actually chosen, but the Philippines, Japan, Taiwan, and even South Korea would likely be in the path of the fallout. Some of it will certainly settle in the waters surrounding China, and you can imagine the effects on the fishing grounds. More environmental cleanup, and a lot of hungry people.
“Ignoring the effects of the attack on the Chinese economy, which would likely trigger a catastrophic worldwide depression, ignoring the humanitarian disaster of millions of Chinese injured and killed, some of your own citizens will suffer and die as a direct result of the attacks.
“And if any of you are reluctant to sink an ‘allied’ Indian submarine, remember that India is doing her level best to arrest the people who planned this, and that the plotters don’t seem to be concerned about collateral damage to the other alliance members.”
She could see nodding heads, and pressed home her point. “This is the alliance’s problem as much as China’s. When something this bad happens, everyone suffers.”
Liao spoke again. “Normally, a matter like this would be discussed at length, with the senior military and civilian representative from each country speaking in turn. However, given the urgency, I will speak for the alliance without discussion and say that we will assist our Indian ally in finding, and if necessary, sinking this submarine. We welcome U.S. participation in this effort. Are there any objections?”
Each representative said “no,” in turn, even the Indians, but the military representative quickly changed his vote to “abstain,” sounding confused and unhappy. “I must believe this is actually happening, but my heart cannot let me vote yes.”
The Taiwanese ambassador nodded sympathetically. “I understand, but your help will be vital in this.”
The Indian’s expression hardened. “You will have it, I promise.”
Liao asked, “Doctor, do you have any recommendations? You have been working with this for some time now and presumably have some thoughts.”
“Our chief of naval operations will start sending your military staff what intelligence we have on Chakra, as well as any information on our own and Chinese ship, submarine, and aircraft movements. And although your countries have excellent submarines, we strongly recommend that you do not use them in the search. In fact, if you have any submarines operating in that area, you should recall them immediately. There is too much risk of a blue-on-blue incident.”
The military officers were nodding agreement. The senior military officer was a Philippine Navy captain, and he said, “We concur, and will provide location data for any of our subs in Chakra’s path until they are all clear of the area. We will also share and coordinate our plans with our American friends.” He paused, then added, “It might be best, if for the moment, that any information on Chinese movements came from you, rather than directly from Chinese sources.”
Hughes nodded, smiling. “And we will, of course, inform the Chinese of Littoral Alliance movements, to make sure there is no duplication of effort.”
Or unfriendly encounters, Patterson thought. Nerves were still raw, and this business didn’t need any more complications.
6 April 2017
2100 Local Time
The Oval Office, the White House
Washington, D.C.
* * *
This time, Joanna Patterson waited to be announced and admitted before going into the Oval Office. Secretary Lloyd and the president were both waiting for her. “Done, Mr. President,” she announced with satisfaction. “They’re not happy at having to find out from us, but they’re even more unhappy about the problem. They’ve agreed to coordinate with us through Guam, and Admiral Hughes has gone back to the Pentagon to g
et it organized.”
The two men looked disappointed, and Myles, looking at Lloyd, said, “It doesn’t matter. We can reach him there.”
Puzzled, Patterson asked, “Should I have kept him with me?”
Myles gave a small shake of his head. “No, Joanna, it’s fine. He has a lot to do, and you couldn’t have anticipated this. Nobody could.”
Her heart started to sink. “What’s happened?”
Myles quickly reassured her. “Nothing bad. It’s just—unusual.”
Lloyd said, “While you were in meetings with the Chinese and then the Littoral Alliance, I was informing the other governments of what we had decided.” He paused for a moment, then declared, “The Indians want Girish Samant to take part in the hunt for Chakra, ‘as a witness,’ as they put it. They’re making arrangements to fly him to Guam.” He then reprised his conversation with the Indian foreign secretary.
By this time she’d sat down, and found herself agreeing with the Indians’ logic. “It makes sense,” she said, nodding. “If nothing else, they will be able to say it was a joint operation.”
“Then I called the Russians,” Lloyd reported, “to inform them that Chakra had sailed. They were not happy at the thought of their bootleg warheads actually being used. They want Alex Petrov there, as well.” He saw her surprised expression, but didn’t give her a chance to speak. “They also want to say they were involved in the ‘search for and destruction of’ the warheads.”
“By sinking the sub they’re carried on.” She made a face.
“The Russians were not happy that the Indians had let Chakra leave, in spite of a two-day warning. They reminded me that Petrov has the best information on Chakra’s technical characteristics, since changes were made after Samant turned over command.” Lloyd added, “I agreed, and the president has approved the request. I’ve already called the Hyderabad consulate and told them to load Petrov on the same plane as Samant. They’ll be glad to have those two off their hands. What’s left is to tell Admiral Hughes to expect two foreign observers at Guam for the duration of the operation. If nothing else, he has to find them a place to stay…”
“On the base, you mean.” She interrupted. “On Guam.” When he started to agree, she said firmly, “That won’t work. They’ll be treated as fifth wheels, and won’t be able to help. Besides their information is more tactical; putting them at the headquarters doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
Lloyd shrugged. “That’s where the operation will be run,” he said. “Where else…” He paused, then frowned and shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Put them aboard Jerry’s sub,” she insisted. “We know North Dakota is the best sub in Squadron Fifteen, and Simonis has already said he’s going to place her off of Hong Kong—the most likely first target. She has the best chance of finding and killing Chakra.”
“And I do not get a good feeling about putting an Indian and Russian aboard a sub that will probably have to fire on a Russian-built, Indian-crewed submarine.”
“That is precisely why we need them aboard. Petrov knows the boat better than anyone else, and Samant knows the new skipper.” She looked to President Myles, who was watching them both silently.
“And what if they attempt to interfere somehow?” Myles asked.
“I think there’s little chance of that,” she replied. “They’ve both showed, at considerable risk to themselves, that they aren’t driven simply by national interests.”
“One could suggest they’ve both acted in their higher national interests. Honorably,” Myles concluded. After a short pause, he added, “The Navy won’t be happy, they’re allergic to this sort of thing, but I’ll tell Simonis, through the chain, to put them aboard North Dakota. We get only one good crack at stopping Chakra before she launches a nuclear weapon. It needs to be our best shot.”
16
EN ROUTE
8 April 2017
1800 Local Time
Andersen Air Force Base
Guam
* * *
The Indian Navy P-8 aircraft descended smoothly toward the tarmac, two short puffs of smoke marking when the tires touched the concrete. The aircraft rolled to the far end of runway 24R, passing by a half dozen B-52s parked in the center of the field, before turning left onto a taxiway that led to the air base terminal.
Glenn Jacobs paced impatiently by the car. He was anxious to collect his passengers, no, his guests, and get them to the pier as fast as he could. He wanted this bothersome evolution over and done with, preferably before his commodore suffered a severe stroke. Jacobs vividly recalled the video conversation Simonis had with his immediate boss, Rear Admiral Burroughs, yesterday evening. The chief staff officer had never seen that shade of purplish red on Simonis’s face before, and if Jacobs had anything to do with it, he didn’t want to ever see it again.
* * *
“Yes, sir, I get it that we have to work with India and Russia, truly,” complained Simonis bitterly. “But that can easily be accommodated by having them observe the operation from my watch floor! Putting them on North Dakota is just a boondoggle, and a violation of every security safeguard we’ve ever put in place!”
“I’m sympathetic, Chuck, but those security regs were written for more ‘normal times.’ This current crisis is far from normal,” Burroughs countered.
“Admiral, Dr. Patterson has gone too far by demanding we put two foreign senior naval officers, both qualified submarine commanders, onto our newest class of attack submarines! They’ll be able to understand every single detail they see!”
“For the record, Chuck, she didn’t demand. She made a recommendation to the president, who agreed with her argument—as did the CNO, and Pac Fleet, for that matter. Captain Samant knows Chakra’s current commanding officer intimately. He trained him and knows how he thinks. Captain Petrov personally supervised the modifications to the submarine’s sonar system, and he’s bringing a complete set of technical manuals with him. The information these men possess will be of tremendous value in finding and neutralizing the Akula, hopefully before it can deploy any nuclear weapons. And since North Dakota is our first line of defense, it made sense to put the two men on her.”
“And the fact that both Samant and Petrov are on friendly terms with Patterson, and Mitchell, didn’t influence this request at all?” grumbled Simonis sarcastically. “Sir, neither the CNO nor the Pacific Fleet commander are submariners, they don’t fully understand why those regulations were created in the first place! To prevent our critical technological advantage from being compromised!”
Burroughs’s expression hardened. He was visibly losing patience with Simonis.
“Commodore, if anyone doesn’t understand this present situation, it’s you. We are desperately trying to prevent an escalation of a conventional conflict into one that sees the wide-scale use of nuclear weapons. Can you not grasp that? How can the knowledge of these two individuals be of any help to Commander Mitchell when they are stuck in Guam and he’s out searching for a very quiet boat that had just been updated, and is doing its damnedest not to be found. Is he going to spend his whole patrol at periscope depth just so he can call in at a moment’s notice for tactical guidance?!
“The president has ordered our full cooperation with those nations who have offered assistance to stop this rogue boat. Let me repeat, full cooperation, and it was he who told the Navy to put the two captains on North Dakota. Given the circumstances, Commodore, are you that surprised the security manual just got tossed into the bilge? You can place whatever reasonable restrictions you believe are necessary to limit access to the more sensitive areas on North Dakota, but your orders are to get those men on board and Mitchell out to sea, expeditiously. I suggest you carry them out.”
* * *
Jacobs had felt bad watching his boss get smacked by another senior official. Once was bad enough, but twice! In the same day—ouch!
Ironically, the CSO completely understood where Simonis was coming from. The commodore was a s
trictly “by the book” naval officer. He knew exactly what had to be done, and how to meet the incredible amount of bureaucratic bookkeeping required by a peacetime navy. The problem was, the squadron wasn’t exactly operating in a peacetime mode right now, and one of Simonis’s precious books had just been cast aside. And while the CNO’s decision might have been influenced by political expediency, Admiral Hughes was an acknowledged “horse trader” within Washington circles. The truth of the matter was, it just made good sense, and the risk of compromise had been deemed acceptable by a competent authority.
Simonis’s main problem was that he was risk-averse, and he wanted to play it safe. But Jacobs also knew that his commodore would follow his orders regardless of whether or not he liked them. The combination had made for interesting times at the squadron headquarters during the Sino–Littoral Alliance War, and now that round two was just getting started, there would be more to follow. The best thing Jacobs could do for his boss was to get Samant and Petrov on North Dakota, and have Mitchell get his butt to sea. Once all the three boats were on their way to their assigned patrol areas, the squadron headquarters could get into a steady routine—establishing a sustainable battle rhythm was high on Jacobs’s list of things to do.
* * *
The aircraft slowly taxied to the parking apron, coming to a complete stop only when the marshaler crossed his batons. The airman then gave the hand signals for the pilot to cut the engines and for the ground crew to move in with the chocks for the landing gear wheels. Before the engines had even wound down, the forward fuselage door opened and a folding ladder was extended. As soon as the legs hit the ground, two men emerged from the aircraft and hustled down the ladder. Jacobs quickly moved forward to greet them.