Able Sentry

by John Schettler

  Yet every ready fighter on all three airfields had been sent up in that defense. The Marine F-35’s and F-18’s on Palau had only taken off to prevent their destruction if the attack got through. Even then, they used their AAMRAM’s in the defense of the base, and then were ordered to land when the all clear was sounded.

  18:00 Local, 17 JAN 2026 – Carrier Taifeng

  Admiral Wu Jinlong set down the report, along with the latest satellite imagery of Guam. It did not take an expert to see that the damage inflicted on the big American airbase had been negligible. The disappointing results darkened his mood.

  Perhaps I should have used all 36 bombers, he thought. The Americans used their fighter strength to intercept and destroy most of our cruise missiles, and very few got through to the targets. Now it will be another 16 hours before the bombers can strike again, and a second strike would use up the lion’s share of all the KD-20 cruise missiles we stockpiled in Manila. These weapons do not grow on trees like bananas! That first strike used up 30% of China’s entire inventory for the KD-20. Now I will need authorization from the General Staff to use them further.

  He brooded on the results, and the hard logistics of war. The factories were still running back home, but how long will the missiles hold out? This is the first great battle since the General Staff insisted we launch the operations into the Ryukyu Islands. Since that time we have lost 58 ships, had three commandeered, and our allies have lost six more destroyers. Zhang Wendan was so correct. If not for the fact that we have sunk 25 British warships, and six from Singapore, it would be one of the greatest naval defeats in history. But we have only been able to damage three American ships, which is disgraceful.

  Tonight I must get the destroyers needing fuel to Davao. Tomorrow, at least one American carrier will probably be within striking range. Our supply convoy had reached Zamboanga harbor, and tonight the Vietnamese destroyers replenish their last stores of Naval SCALP strike missiles. That gives me some means of striking their bases from the sea, which is a capability we sorely lack. That is why I demanded the War Gods, but even a mass attack by 24 bombers failed me.

  Our overland supply lift left Zamboanga and is already heading for Davao. Much depends on that, because the strategic airlift was only able to bring in small air to air missiles at Davao. Any naval strike missiles will come in that overland convoy. I must return our fast sealift ships to China, but not before the Sea Eagles arrive at the port, our LDH transports with helicopters and fresh troops and supplies. That operation is being watched over by DDG Yueshen, the Rain God, and five frigates pulled from duty in the reef island bases. Aside from four destroyers watching the south Taiwan Gap near the Batanes Islands, all the rest of the South Seas fleet is with me now, so much is riding on the outcome of this campaign.

  All is not lost. Even if my bomber raid was defeated, I have learned and I will strike again. But what will the Americans do? What will this Enterprise Strike Group do? If I were in command, I would take the Makassar Strait, and put pressure on my forces in the Celebes Sea. I wish to refuel and then strike east at Palau, but if the Enterprise enters the Celebes Sea behind me, it will sit right astride my sea lanes of communication back to China.

  This carrier will not operate alone. They have another near Japan, and I will be very surprised if it has not been moving south all day today. Then I would be facing the same situation plaguing Admiral Sun Wei—two fast American carriers that can take our YJ-18 out of the fight by simply staying 300 plus miles away.

  Tomorrow could be a most decisive day…..

  Chapter 35

  The unsettling report of a submarine contact was the next concern for Wu Jinlong. The Chinese boat Yuan-16 had been creeping in its assigned patrol zone south of the Gulf of Davao when it heard the contact, but it was some time before that information finally reached Taifeng. It was dead ahead.

  “This contact is already over an hour old!” said the Admiral.

  “Sorry, sir. Communications with submarines are intermittent.”

  “Well look at the farthest on for that contact. It is much too close. The formation will come right to 170 degrees. Begin evasive pattern One. Signal the flight deck to launch the ASW patrol along this line.” The Admiral pointed to the outermost edge of the contact farthest on.

  This was a real threat, because 23 of 58 Chinese ships sunk thus far in the war were lost to submarine attack, a danger that was usually unseen until it struck. This time, they were lucky to even get this information, he thought.

  “What about the refueling detachment for Haikou and Yinchuan, sir? They were ready to depart for Davao.”

  “It will have to wait. Tell them to maintain their position in the formation.

  “Aye sir.”

  * * *

  The submarine that was now foremost in the Admiral’s mind was Virginia Class boat Shenandoah, now about 65 miles south of the mouth of the Gulf of Davao. Captain William “Wild Bill” Lane got the report from his sonar team—sonobuoys in the water to their north.

  “Come to 180 degrees true. Make your depth 500 feet.”

  “Sir, aye, coming to one eight zero true at 500 feet.”

  The boat was creeping at five knots, listening to a lot of noise off to the southwest, but none of the contacts were tight yet. One thing was certain. The enemy knew they were out there, and that meant tiptoe caution from that point on. The Captain realized something must have picked them up while they were sprinting, always dangerous in close to any surface formation. At the moment, the enemy could be anywhere on a long heading from 20 to 80 miles out.

  Unfortunately, Admiral Wu’s instincts had been spot on. Shenandoah was right where he suspected, on the outermost edge of that farthest on circle, and right in the center of the ASW patrol zone that had been ordered. They heard more sonobuoys dropping off their port side, and the Captain changed course.

  “Contact heading?”

  “Sir contacts have altered course, presently at 180 true. “

  “Pilot, come right to 260 degrees.”

  Lane wanted to creep away from that line of sonobuoys behind him. In his mind, the Chinese had come a long way from the vicinity of Riau Island the previous day, and he thought they were heading for Davao to refuel. That assumption had been correct, and now he was maneuvering to place himself between the contacts and the Gulf of Davao.

  It was a tense night as the clock crept towards midnight. They know were down here, thought Lane. Am I being too predictable with this move? We’re just over the layer here, a typical cruising depth, and I’m doing exactly what this guy doesn’t want me to do—cutting across his line of advance to Davao. It’s easy to second guess yourself in a situation like this. It’s my first real combat scenario.

  “Sonar, any aspect heading change on the contacts?”

  “No sir, but I have positive ID’s on two carriers, Taifeng and Shandong class. Has to be the Zhendong, sir, and that big mother of a cruiser is out there too, Zanshi. We read it about 20 miles out.”

  “Very well.”

  Those buoys were very close, inside three miles, and Lane knew he was in a very tight spot here. All he could do was rely on the inherent stealth of his boat, and ease off to the west. Twenty miles, he thought. That would put us in or near a sonar convergence zone for them.

  “Pilot, come right to 315 degrees northeast.”

  “Sir, aye, coming to three-one-five degrees.”

  The Captain wanted to get beyond that convergence zone, even though he was moving away from the contacts with this maneuver. He knew where they wanted to go, and reasoned that they would find a way to get there. They were heading south now, and looking at the chart, he saw the big island of Karakelong would be about 40 miles off their port side if they held that course. That was still plenty of sea room to turn for Davao, but their starboard side looked better, open ocean there. He wanted to get out there, and then wait for the Chinese to come to him.

  “Sir, confidence now high on ID of destroyers Haikou, Yinchuan, an
d frigate Yulin.”

  “Very well.”

  “New contact,” came the next report. “Ships bearing 355 degrees north, range 60 miles approximate. Primary contact group aspect change to new heading of 005 degrees north. Estimate speed at 20 knots.”

  “Sonobuoys?”

  “No contacts, sir, but we’re getting active sonar pings from the primaries.”

  “Pilot, come left to 218 degrees southwest and make your depth 450 feet.”

  “Sir, aye, coming to two-one-eight degrees at 450 feet.”

  Lane had just turned the nose of the boat towards the primary contacts, and eased just over the layer. They had been sweating it out for the last 90 minutes. The primary contacts were now about 100 miles south of the mouth of Davao Gulf, and Wild Bill reasoned they wanted get in there before dawn. To do so, they simply had to steam right across his bow.

  “Sir, contact aspect change. We read a new heading of 125 degrees southeast.”

  “This is one busy fellow out there,” said Lane. “Pilot. Come to 180 degrees true.”

  “Sir, aye, coming to one-eight zero.”

  Minutes later, the sonar team had the light of battle in their eyes.

  “Sir, we have four ships about to cross our bow, destroyer Yinchuan in the lead, frigate Yulin trailing, with two unidentified skunks in the middle. Range eleven miles, speed 25 knots.”

  “What about the carriers?”

  “No confidence, sir.”

  “Very well, ready on tubes one through four.”

  “Sir, aye, torpedo room reports ready on tubes one through four.”

  It was ‘Madcap Time,’ which is what the crew called the ADCAP CBASS Mark-48 torpedoes. Some of the men also nicknamed the torpedo room crew the “Bass Masters.” Lane was taking a risk here. He knew the enemy was aware of his general presence, and that they had helicopters up. They had been making course changes as evasive maneuvers for the last two hours, but that last heading change brought them right across his bow. He reasoned that he could not close unless he increased speed, and this was the best refinement of the primary contact group they had in over two hours. His ‘Madcaps’ could run 20 to 27 miles at either 65 of 50 knots respectively, and he was going to see if he could spear some fish. At 02:27 in the morning, he fired one torpedo at each of the four contacts crossing his bow.

  “Left 15 degrees rudder,” said the Captain immediately after the torpedoes were away. “Set your course to 155 degrees southeast.”

  * * *

  The Chinese ships picked up the first torpedo a minute after it fired, just a little over eight miles out. Admiral Wu swore under his breath. In spite of continued sonobuoy drops and zone searches by two helicopters, they had no further contacts on that hidden Goblin. But it had been stalking them all along, and was now close enough to strike. As the warning claxons blared, the entire formation executed a hard right turn to starboard to evade, but Taifeng was big and needed more time to turn. Soon the entire formation was racing southwest at 30 or more knots, but the torpedoes were coming at 65.

  A submarine was a perfect example of the two things that kill ships in war, stealth and speed. Missiles that had those attributes got hits, and a torpedo inherently had both. The sub had the stealth to get into firing position, and when it fired, the torpedo had the speed to catch any ship within its range. Lane just hoped he had not fired three miles too soon. Unlike the Russian Navy, the Chinese had no anti-torpedo ordnance. All they could do was turn and run from the deadly undersea lances.

  Yet as close as the sonar reading was, it was always a guestimate. Three of the torpedoes reached the point in the sea where they expected to find hulls, and nothing was there. They began to circle, searching for prey, and only torpedo number three was still bearing down on a ship. It had found the heart of the Chinese formation, Taifeng, Type 055 destroyer Fengshen, the Wind God, and the Type 052D class destroyer Haikou. Seconds later, the Wind God was hit, and a tall moonlit water splash rose aft. The engine room had a fire, and water was flooding in.

  Unable to find their targets, the wire operators now smelled the real blood in the water, and vectored in the remaining three torpedoes. They were four to six miles away to the north, and had used a lot of energy trying to find their original targets, but now they forsook that search and turned south. Unfortunately, they would not have the fuel left to score hits, tipping down into the murky depths below as they died, just two miles from the carrier Taifeng….

  * * *

  “Sir all torpedoes have expended fuel. Sonar reports one hit.”

  “Pilot, left fifteen degrees rudder and come to 90 degrees west.”

  “Sir, aye, coming left to ninety degrees.”

  “Sonar,” said Lane. “What did we hit?”

  “One nice big fat Type 055, sir. We nailed it.”

  “A bigger fish than we thought.” The Captain smiled, but he realized his boat was in troubled waters, and his mind now was to creep off to safety. Sonar reported three sonobuoys to the southeast, and he was turning away from them. There would be another time to stalk and kill, but now discretion was the better part of valor.

  Wild Bill Lane had his first kill.

  * * *

  The Chinese had four helicopters up now, with 16 sonobuoys in the water, but they could just not hear that stealthy US sub. With the valuable Wind God wounded and limping at seven knots, Admiral Wu gave orders for frigates Yulin and Wenzhou to escort the stricken destroyer, but he wasn’t sticking around. He turned again, brazenly north, intending to rendezvous with elements of the advanced screening TF that was now emerging from Davao Gulf. He would continue to make evasive course changes as he worked his way north.

  Off in the distance, the Admiral could see Fengshen burning, another ship he was reluctantly writing off in his mind—kill number 24 for the enemy submarines. He took the formation up towards the destroyer, launched boats to help any recovery operation, but he could see from the fires that the ship was in serious danger of dying within the hour. An explosion had destroyed one of the two 64 cell VLS bays, and the fire would not be easily controlled.

  That was a hard blow, he thought. The Wind God had 100 SAM’s aboard, and strike missiles, and they are getting harder to replace. Now I must summon the Rain God, detaching it from its escort duty with the replenishment ships and bringing it here to replace this loss.

  It was going to be a very sleepless morning….

  04:44 Local, 18 JAN 2026

  The danger wasn’t over for Lane and the Shenandoah. As they crept off to the east, the sonar team suddenly called out a new contact, this time a Goblin, dead ahead, and very close.

  “Battle stations torpedo!” said Lane. “Get me a firing solution, gentlemen, and fast. Ready tubes one and three.”

  “Sir, the contact is solid, bearing one-zero-four degrees, range 3.5 miles, speed four knots.”

  “Torpedo room. Report!”

  “Tubes one and three ready sir, aye.”

  “Shoot on generated bearings.”

  This was a sudden death scenario. The two submarines had just stumbled on one another, so close that in a few minutes they might have collided.

  “Sir, the contact has fired! Two torpedoes in the water! Speed 65 knots.”

  “Damn!” Lane swore. That had to be the new Chinese YU-10, every bit as fast and accurate as the American fish. It was like two gunslingers drawing on one another at ten paces, and the odds that both would be hit and die were now very high.

  “Come left twenty degrees hard rudder and dive!”

  By the time that order was given, the torpedoes on either side were almost close enough for their internal sensors to lock on. The wire wasn’t needed. It was either move or die, and the Chinese sub had already turned east to run, but it was slow, and would really have no chance to outrun a torpedo making 65 knots. Shenandoah was much faster, and even more nimble, but nothing escapes a torpedo when it comes for you at that speed, that close. It would be up to countermeasures to decide the fate of e
ither boat.

  “Explosion! We got them, sir.”

  Even as that report was given, the two YU-10’s were just feet away, but the Jammers on the US boat were very good. The ADC Mark-4 Sonar Jammer spoofed both enemy torpedoes, and the crew could hear them swish past the hull of the boat, a terrifying near miss. But the YU-10 was capable of initiating a re-attack, and the two deadly sharks started to turn. The leading torpedo broke to the north, the second to the south, and both turned back, each about 500 meters from Shenandoah. The north shark turned again, now just 300 meters from the US sub. It came around in to Shenandoah’s undersea wake, and now both torpedoes had the scent again, just 150 meters away and closing fast. Decoys fired, but they had perhaps a one in five chance of spoofing the torpedoes again, and this time they failed.

  The lead torpedo struck the sub aft and exploded, and Shenandoah would die, the career of Wild Bill Lane and his entire crew of Sea Dogs now suddenly over. PACOM would never hear anything from the boat again, but they would learn that a Chinese Type 055 destroyer would go down that night, and that told the tale well enough.

  Chapter 36

  06:00 Local, 18 JAN 2026

  While Wild Bill Lane was getting his first kills, and dying, the Enterprise had been ordered to take the Makassar Strait north. The Strait narrowed where Cape Mangkalihat jutted east from Borneo towards the northernmost tentacle of Sulawesi. It was there that another little sub drama was about to play out. Two Virginia Class boats, Franklin and Nashville, had been escorting Enterprise, and now they were trailblazing the way through that gap. The carrier group was about 100 miles to the south, and Kirov was following some 80 miles behind. They had been delayed getting into the strait, as Kursk had to refuel again in a rendezvous with the replenishment ship Yamal.