Four hundred and fifty miles to go, Ko thought. The latest weather report was calling for three-to-four-foot waves, force winds of two-to-six, plus heavy rain and reduced visibility. That, Ko believed, combined with the Sea Dragon’s low radar cross section, would allow the ship to proceed undetected.
The trip lasted all day and into the evening. That at least was a good thing, since it would permit the Sea Dragon to withdraw under the cover of darkness. Glimmers of light could be seen at times, but had a tendency to appear and disappear, as squalls passed through the area.
The ship’s complement of two hundred missiles had been divided in half, with one hundred earmarked for the attack, and a hundred reserved for the return trip.
Fully half of those launchers were loaded with antiair weapons. As in the past Ko planned to rely on his submarine escort to defend the Sea Dragon from Allied attack subs. Although, rather than the two escorts assigned to Ko previously, there was only one. “Attack subs are in short supply,” Chao told him. “Sorry. But that’s how it is.”
Most of the Dragon’s ship-to-ship, or in this case ship-to-shore, missiles had been loaded with targeting information provided by MSS and military intelligence.
Ten weapons had been set aside for his highness King Yingluck Chulaloke. Because, once he was dead, the political situation would revert to what China viewed as normal, and the possibility of a southern front would be foreclosed.
But, unlike the government buildings slated for destruction, Rama XI was a moving target. So spies had been assigned to track the royal’s movements, and upload his location just prior to the attack at 1800.
And sure enough, the necessary coordinates were downloaded at 1745, which gave the Sea Dragon’s operations people fifteen minutes to program the YJ-91s.
Ko didn’t care where Chulaloke was, so long as the King was within range, which was the case. So, when the time came, all Ko had to do was give two simple orders: “Prepare to fire missiles … Fire!” The Sea Dragon shuddered as missiles left their tubes at a rate of one every eight seconds.
Once the last YJ-91 was in the air, the Chinese cruiser turned south. Damage assessments would be conducted by spies and satellites in space.
Home. That was the only thing Ko cared about.
There was no counterattack by Thailand’s government, which lacked the capability to sort the Sea Dragon out of the clutter on their radar screens, or to launch retaliatory missile strikes.
But Allies had the means to not only search for the attacker but to rain hell down on it. And Ko knew the search had begun. His exit strategy was brutally simple. Kill everything that got in the way. And that was why he’d been careful to keep the ship’s sometimes cantankerous railgun in reserve. Ko was counting on it, plus the one hundred missiles waiting in the ship’s tubes, to clear a path.
The weather continued to improve, as the semisubmersible made a beeline for the Ca Mau Cape, and the South China Sea beyond. The cloak of darkness was like an old friend.
But it was only a matter of time before the eastern sky began to lighten and the sun rose. Though partially submerged, the Sea Dragon’s conning towers were exposed.
But when the attack came, it was from beneath the surface of the sea, rather than from above. The Australian Collins-class sub, HMAS Danson, managed to fire all of her torpedo tubes, before being attacked by the Sea Dragon’s underwater escort.
Five of the Danson’s six torpedoes were drawn off target by the Sea Dragon’s decoys. But one of the Mark 48 torpedoes scored a hit.
***
Lieutenant Jev Jing felt the impact. Alarms went off. Compartments were sealed. And Jing felt a stab of fear. No! It couldn’t be. The Sea Dragon was invulnerable to enemy fire!
Captain Ko delivered the news via the ship’s intercom. “The ship was struck by a single torpedo. Three compartments were flooded. But since those spaces house empty missile launchers our capacity to maneuver and fight remains undiminished. The enemy submarine was destroyed. Carry on.”
The truth was slightly different. The additional weight in the flooded compartments had a negative effect on the semisubmersible’s buoyancy. And there was the possibility that it would generate noise that enemy sonar could detect.
But Ko saw no reason to disclose that information. Nor did he mention the fact that, if the Allied sub had been able to get a message off, then the Allies knew where the Sea Dragon was. And they would respond accordingly. An assumption that was proven to be accurate only minutes later. Suddenly, according to a high priority message from naval headquarters in Beijing— the lead elements of an American carrier group had left Japan—and were steaming south.
But Admiral Chao was ready for such a move, and countered by sending a Chinese carrier group north. A move which would theoretically give the damaged cruiser a chance to reach its home port unopposed. And would finally provide the Chinese navy an opportunity to lay waste to the xia Riben guizi (little Japanese devils).
Many Chinese officers assumed that their ships would win such a contest. Ko wasn’t one of them. But he could hardly complain since the Sea Dragon was likely to be the chief beneficiary of Chao’s initiative. And for the better part of six suspenseful hours, it appeared that all available American ships were headed for the impending battle, like iron filings drawn to a magnet.
But shortly after the Dragon entered the South China Sea two blips appeared on radar. And thanks to video being streamed to the cruiser from a GJ-2 UAV, Ko learned that the blips were American destroyers, presumably in company with an attack sub.
Within seconds it became clear that the Americans could “see” the Chinese cruiser. The Arleigh Burke class destroyers were armed with a wide variety of weapons. But it was the enemy’s ship-to-ship missiles that Ko feared most, four of which were in the air, and headed his way.
As luck would have it, Ko was in Operations 1 when the enemy ships were spotted and the Harpoons were fired. Even so, there was a momentary time lag as the fire control computer requested permission to fire anti-air missiles, and the duty officer turned to Ko seeking permission. He said, “Yes!” but it was too late. The sea-skimming missiles were traveling at more than five hundred mph, and were halfway to the Sea Dragon by then.
Mortars burped decoys into the air and three of the American weapons exploded harmlessly. But the fourth struck the hull forward of Conning Tower 1. The warhead was packing 488 pounds of HE and blew a hole through the hull, killing three crewmembers.
Because most of the cruiser’s hull was awash, water poured in through the hole, causing automatic systems to seal the flooded compartment.
The Sea Dragon was fighting for her life. Anti-air missiles sleeted into the air, as more Harpoons were launched, and Chinese YJ-91 anti-ship missiles skimmed the waves.
Both American vessels mounted SRBOC launchers which did an effective job of luring the Chinese weapons away. In addition, both destroyers were equipped with Mk 53 Nulka hovering decoys, each of which produced a ship-like radar signature.
Meanwhile, below the surface of the sea, the American boats were towing AN/SLQ-25A Nixie torpedo decoys. The crew on the Chinese attack sub wasn’t fooled however.
They knew the first sonic signatures they heard would be from decoys, and were happy to expend two torpedoes on the Nixies.
But in doing so, the subs revealed themselves to the men and women aboard the USS Waco, the attack sub sent to protect the American destroyers. A spread of Mark 48 torpedoes began to search for the Chinese attack boat and found it.
There was a brief moment of celebration aboard the Waco as two underwater explosions were heard, followed by the distinctive sounds of a ship breaking up.
But just as the Chinese boat revealed itself to the Waco, the American boat became electronically “visible” to the Sea Dragon, which was armed with two anti-sub rocket launchers. Each rocket released a torpedo. And both of them went looking for a submarine. One of them scored a hit.
Meanwhile, as the surface combatants continue
d to close with each other, the battle became even more intense. Ko was desperate to break contact and run. His ship had sustained two serious wounds and he feared that the Americans would win the war of attrition.
So, despite the fact that Ko had been hoping to keep the popup railgun in reserve, he had no choice but to use it.
Thanks to the ship’s radar, the overhead drone, and a downlink from a Chinese satellite, all of the ship’s interlocking fire control systems were updated at five second intervals. That made the process of firing the railgun easy: Raise the weapon from below deck, run an automated systems check, and issue orders.
The destroyers were about ten miles apart and coming toward the Sea Dragon at approximately 34 knots per hour. The ship to port, as seen from the Sea Dragon, had been labeled as “Target 1.” And the one to the right was “Target 2.”
Ko gave the orders. “Prepare to fire on Target 1. Fire! Prepare to fire on Target 2. Fire!” Sixty seconds elapsed before the second shell departed.
The smart shells raced down range at five thousand mph. They weren’t packing explosive charges. Nor did they need to. Kinetic energy alone was enough to penetrate Target 1’s main deck, the deck below, and the engine room—where the projectile shattered. Shrapnel flew in every direction. Jagged pieces of steel punctured the hull, water poured in, and alarms sounded. The order to abandon ship was given three minutes later.
Target 2 fared no better. The speeding railgun shell fell on its superstructure, destroyed the bridge, plunged through the main deck—and punched a hole in the hull.
Like its sister ship, the tin can sank within fifteen minutes. Life boats and rafts were left bobbing where it had been.
Ko had no interest in taking prisoners. His submarine escort had been destroyed, and he had three flooded compartments to contend with. All he wanted to do was reach the safety of the sub pens in the Yulin navy base. And do so as quickly as possible. The Sea Dragon limped north.
***
On the island of Samir, in the South China Sea
Commander Max Ryson was lying on his back, staring at the sky. It was blue with white striations. There were no contrails to be seen. Not a single one. And Ryson thought he knew why. Hundreds of miles north of Samir, and west of Taiwan, enormous fleets were about to clash. And that, Ryson felt sure, was where the semisubmersible cruiser was. If so, the Chinese would have a huge advantage.
The thought made him even more depressed. The trip to the village of Coloane had been nothing short of a disaster, both personally and professionally.
The full extent of Kelsey’s treachery had shaken Ryson to the core, leaving him unsure of his judgement, and his ability to lead. I was thinking with my dick, Ryson decided. And people died as a result.
After a relatively short trip aboard the Dakota, the survivors had been transferred to an Indonesian destroyer, which took them to Manado—where members of the Australian Federal Police took both Parker women into custody.
“Kelsey’s in serious trouble,” Admiral Nathan said. “And the Feds want to get a deposition from Rong. Mr. Soo will get paid by the way. The ASIS (Australia’s Secret Intelligence Collection Agency) blokes think the Hong Kong-Macau triad could come in handy.
“As for George, well, he’s in Sydney by now. And all the money he has won’t be enough to get him out of the kind of trouble he’s in. Don’t blame yourself, Max. There’s no way you could have known.”
Ryson did blame himself. But all he could do was return to work. And he was aboard the supply ship Alcona when she returned to Samir Island. Soon followed by a tanker which had orders to remain on station for two weeks. And that was a good thing, because the entire squadron was anchored around Samir, or out on patrol.
The sun was warm. The sand was soft. And a gentle breeze ruffled the surface of the lagoon. Sleep brought a welcome escape. Then a female voice said, “Wake up, Skipper … We have work to do.”
Kelsey? Ryson opened his eyes. Lieutenant Commander Linda Vos was standing over him. What was that in her eyes? Concern? Or pity?
Ryson sat up. “Work? What kind of work?”
“The Sea Dragon attacked Bangkok,” Vos told him. “It looks as though the Chinese were trying to assassinate King Ramos XI. Fortunately, they failed.
“Then, on the way home an Australian sub managed to torpedo, but not sink, the Dragon. I knew the skipper,” she added. “He was a nice man.”
Vos’s use of the past tense spoke volumes. “I’m sorry,” Ryson said, as he stood. “Very sorry.”
“Thanks,” Vos replied. “According to the folks at INDOPACCOM the Dragon was still running for home when it was intercepted by two American destroyers.”
Ryson winced. “And?”
“And, one of the tin cans scored a hit. But the Sea Dragon’s railgun sank them both. One shell each. A submarine named the USS Waco is missing as well.”
Ryson shook his head sadly. “Then the Sea Dragon ran.”
“Exactly,” Vos said. “And, because most of the Chinese fleet was focused on the battle up north, the Dragon was on her own. Then a layer of clouds moved in. That’s when the satellite nerds lost track of her.”
All of Ryson’s PHMs were named after cloud formations. Was it an omen? His brain began to race. “So, they want us to find her?”
“No,” Vos replied. “Thanks to a tip from one of Kelsey Parker’s cigarette smugglers, we know where the Sea Dragon is.”
“Which is?”
“Mischief Reef. The Intel people think she was forced to take refuge there in order to make temporary repairs. The Chinese have four fighters stationed on the atoll.
“And,” Voss added, “based on what happened to our submarines, we can assume that at least one attack boat is lurking in the area too.
“Our orders are to get there as quickly as we can and keep the Sea Dragon bottled up, until the heavy hitters can arrive from the north.”
Assuming they win the big battle, Ryson thought. And how long will that take? He pushed the thought away. “Is the squadron ready for sea?”
“The Nimbus and Fractus are taking on fuel. The rest are cranking up.”
“And air support?”
“I tried. But all I could get was a Global Hawk drone. It doesn’t have any weapons, but will arrive on station within the hour, and can loiter for twenty-five hours—not counting travel time.”
Ryson grinned. “Thanks, Linda. You’re not bad for an Aussie.”
“And you’re okay for a Yank,” she replied.
Both officers grinned. “I’ll board the Arcus,” Ryson said. “You’ll be on the Cumulus. The Armindales will bring up the rear. I realize you would prefer to be on one of the Aussie boats. But, if something happens to me, you’ll need to be up front where the PHMs are.”
Vos knew the American boats were faster than the remaining Armindale and would arrive first. Barkley wouldn’t like having the squadron’s XO looking over her shoulder. But Vos planned to remain in the background and pray that nothing happened to Ryson.
What ensued was a scramble to board boats, prepare for combat, and get underway. Mischief Reef was more than three hours away for the PHMs. But all of them, officers and enlisted alike, had been looking for the Chinese ghost ship for a month by then, and were eager to close with the enemy. Consequences be damned.
It was a risk. But Ryson gave orders for the tanker to follow. The boats would be sucking max fuel, and there was no way to know how long the mission would last.
Once foilborne, the Arcus led the way, with the other hydrofoils following in a column behind. It was a sight of the sort not seen since WWII when PT boats ventured out to battle the Japanese.
Ryson was filled with a heady mix of excitement, anticipation, and gut-churning fear. He knew, based on previous experience, that the fear could be controlled. And that the adrenaline would clear his mind.
The Sea Dragon had advantages, the most important of which was the damned railgun. A weapon with a range of at least 124 miles, judging from wha
t had happened to the USS Concord.
The Chinese cruiser was armed with missiles as well. As many as two hundred of them. But some had been expended during the attack on Bangkok. So how many were left? It seemed safe to assume that at least 25 percent of the ship’s weapons had been fired. Probably more.
As for efficacy, Chinese anti-air missiles had proven to be quite accurate, and were likely to intercept at least some of the squadron’s Harpoons.
But the cruiser’s ship-to-ship YJ-91 missiles had a range of seventy-five miles. That was significantly less than the squadron’s capacity to strike targets one hundred and fifty miles away.
So, what did all this suggest? We’ll fire our missiles while we’re beyond the range of both the railgun and the YJ-91 missiles, Ryson concluded. All of them. From every boat.
Ryson made use of a secure channel to communicate his plan to the rest of the boats. “So, that’s it,” he said. “Any questions?”
All the commanding officers were wondering the same thing: “What if we fail to destroy the Sea Dragon with missiles? What then?”
But, none of them gave voice to their doubts. And that was fortunate. Because Ryson lacked any answers.
***
Mischief Reef, the South China Sea
The Sea Dragon was inside the lagoon at Mischief Reef, the tide was falling, and she would soon be aground. Not by accident, but on purpose.
There had been a time, hundreds of years earlier, when a process called “careening” was used to ground sailing vessels at high tide and expose one side of the ship’s hull. Then, before the water returned, repairs could be made.
And Captain Ko was well aware of the practice. That’s why the cruiser was anchored at the shallow end of the lagoon, not far from the airstrip and the equipment associated with it.
That included a considerable pile of junk and plenty of welding equipment. “This is what we need,” Chief Engineer Hong said, as he tapped a rusty boiler. “Look at that! Curved steel. What more could you want? Cut this section out.”
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