“Hold it right there, Commander,” interrupted Ridgeway. “How can it be the Lijiang? Isn’t that the sub that reportedly sank off the Spratlys?”
“It’s obvious that the entire Chinese search-and-rescue operation in the Spratlys was nothing but an intentional act of deception,” she dared.
“And what makes this act even more interesting is the possibility that the top leadership in Beijing could know nothing about it.”
“What do you mean by that?” quizzed the chairman.
Brittany looked at Ridgeway and answered. “I know it’s all speculation at this point, but there’s always the possibility that portions of the PLA Navy sincerely believed that the Lijiang was missing, and that their SAR effort was a legitimate one.”
“I believe what the commander is implying is that outlaw elements inside the Chinese Navy could have succeeded in commandeering their most capable attack sub, without President Li’s blessings,” interjected the CNO.
General Ridgeway thoughtfully rubbed his furrowed forehead and took this speculative possibility one step further. “It’s scary, but it almost makes sense. We all know how the surviving Maoists reacted to Deng’s death and Li Chen’s amazing rise to power.”
“And let’s not forget about our old friend Adm. Liu Huangtzu,” reminded the CNO. “As the senior hard liner no one was more publicly opposed to Li’s participation in the G-7 summit than he. And since Liu continues to hold the senior most rank in the PLA Navy, what better person to plan and execute such a clever act of subterfuge?”
“But would the old fox really have the ca jones to steal one of his own submarines, then send it into the Atlantic where it would be free to cause all sorts of mayhem, including interfering with the QE2’& crossing?” asked Ridgeway.
Brittany readdressed her keyboard. The third projection screen filled with an expanded chart of the North Atlantic. Halfway between Newfoundland and the United Kingdom, she highlighted a blue icon and the quartet of flashing red stars that surrounded it in a neat, boxlike formation.
“As you probably suspect, that blue symbol represents the last-known position of the QE2,” she informed them. “The coordinates were updated less than an hour ago, during the last pass of our White Cloud recon satellite. If an outlaw Chinese submarine is indeed on its way into the mid-Atlantic, we’re more than prepared to deal with it.”
“Commander, can you break down the individual identities of that escort formation for the chairman?” requested the CNO.
Brittany replied while highlighting the red star at the bottom, left-hand portion of the rectangular box. “This icon represents the approximate position of our wolf pack’s command boat, the USS James K. Polk. The Polk is carrying our SEAL team, and their Mark VIII Swimmer Delivery Vehicle.”
She shifted the cursor to the top, left-hand star and continued. “This is the location of the HMS Talent. The Talent is one of the Brits’ newest, Trafalgar-class nuclear powered attack boats. They’ve been fitted with the latest in quieting measures, and the new Smacks firecontrol system. They’re also carrying a full load of prototype Spearfish torpedoes. With a closing speed of over sixty knots, the Spearfish is one of the most potent torpedoes ever developed.”
Moving the cursor to the star making up the bottom, right-hand portion of the box, she added, “The French Rubis-class submarine Casablanca is the point boat. She’s been tasked with clearing the southern perimeter, and though substantially smaller than either the Polk or the Talent, she more than makes up for it with a state-of-the art DUUX 5 Fenelon passive ranging sonar suite. The Marine Nationale’s finest is also equipped with the latest DLT D-3 firecontrol system, capable of launching the new F-17 acoustic-homing torpedo.”
“And finally,” said Brittany as she highlighted the upper, right-hand star. “We’ve got the Baikal, a Russian Akula-class attack sub. The Baikal is without a doubt the fastest sub in our foursome, and represents the best of Russia’s long involvement with nuclear-powered-submarine engineering. She’s been given the northern sector to patrol, and with a speed of over thirty-five knots, and a diving depth second to none, the Baikal should be able to hold her own against our suspected Han, or any other threat that she might come up against.”
“Thank goodness you managed to talk the President into sending along those subs,” remarked Ridgeway. “Do they know about the Lijiang as yet?”
Brittany accessed her laptop and held back her reply until the proper data flashed across the monitor. “I’m afraid not, sir. Normal VLF traffic has been disrupted by the same solar storm that’s affecting our satellite communications with the QE2. We’ve got a TACAMO on the way to pass on the message via ELF.”
“Can the Iwo Jima task force help us with ASW?” asked Ridgeway.
“Though their choppers are more than capable of tagging our bogey, the last I heard from Admiral Campbell, they were suspending all air ops to batten down the hatches for the arrival of Marti,” informed the CNO.
Brittany alertly accessed the computer, and the main projection screen on the far-left side filled with a satellite weather map showing the eastern coast of the United States and a good portion of the Western Atlantic. The focal point was the tight, spiraling band of clouds north of Bermuda. A time-lapse sequence showed this storm system as it whisked past the island. It was headed to the northeast, its mass continually widening, with a definite eye forming in the center.
“It looks like the Iwo Jima battle group is going to take it right on the chin,” observed the CNO. “Admiral Campbell mentioned that they’re preparing for one-hundred-mile-per-hour gale-force winds, and Force five sea states.”
Ridgeway winced. “Sounds like there are going to be some awfully sick Leathernecks out there.”
“Not to mention the crews of the five ships accompanying them,” added the CNO.
Brittany was in the process of requesting the computer to display the Iwo Jima’s last-known position, when Lieutenant Tolliver entered the conference room. The junior officer appeared uneasy, as he stood ramrod-straight and nervously cleared his throat before speaking.
“Excuse me for interrupting, but something’s come up that I thought you should know about. I was in the middle of receiving a routine SITREP from the QE2, when the signal went dead. My first hunch was that electromagnetic interference was the culprit. Yet I succeeded in establishing a solid uplink with our COMSAT, and when I went to transmit, all I got was a digital message saying that the party I wished to call was offline.”
“Are you positive the problem wasn’t with the satellite, Lieutenant?” queried the CNO.
“The problem was definitely with the downlink portion of the transmission, Admiral. Which leads me to believe that either the ship had a major mechanical failure in its radio room, or something else has happened making them unable to respond to our call.”
“This is all we need at the moment,” remarked Ridgeway with disgust.
“Lieutenant, keep trying that COMSAT link, and try alternating those frequencies.”