On the starboard side, a single thick hose connected the Kai Yang to the fueling ship. In twenty minutes they would take on enough fuel to keep them at sea another five days. Lei knew he would cut his endurance by half if he were caught up in another flank speed duel with the PLA navy.
He glanced at the luminescent clock face on his console. Ten minutes into the reprovisioning. Relax, he commanded himself. There was nothing he could do except wait. He tried to focus on the dull pink void on the western horizon where the sun had set nearly an hour ago.
Commander Lei had fourteen years of service under his belt. With luck — and a favorable outcome of the war — he could expect another six years, perhaps command of a surface squadron. If all the circumstances of his career fell into supreme harmony, he might even be elevated to flag rank.
Admiral Lei Fu-Sheng.
The prospect gave him no joy. The truth was, he no longer cared about the honor and trappings of high command. The events of the past two days had forced him to consider the harsh facts of his life. He had a wife whom he hadn’t seen for more than a week of each month during their entire marriage. His two sons had grown to manhood in his absence. Neither was close to him, nor were they interested in military careers.
All because he had chosen a life of service to his country. A country that might not exist a week from now.
While this thought still played in his mind, he received the call from the surface watch officer, Lt. Fu Shing. “Radar contact, Captain.”
He was instantly alert. “Range and distance?”
“Multiple returns bearing two-nine-zero, forty kilometers, constant bearing, decreasing range. They’ve already painted us on their radar.”
Lei nodded. The hostile contacts had detected them first. No surprise, considering the archaic SPS-58 radar equipment installed on the Kai Yang. Constant bearing, decreasing range. It meant the contacts were on a direct course for Kai Yang and its two destroyer escorts.
“Does Dragon Boat have an ID?” Dragon Boat was the E-2C surveillance aircraft, overseeing the action in the strait.
“Nothing positive yet. The radar hits are definitely PLA navy, destroyer or frigate size.”
Lei shook his head in frustration. Having a mini-AWACS like the E-2C on station was a nice idea, but its effectiveness against surface targets was minimal. The big revolving parasol radome atop the E-2C was intended for use against airborne targets. What they needed was a surveillance jet like the American RC-135 Rivet Joint. Or real time satellite imagery, delivered by instant data link. Instead, they had hand-me-down junk the Americans stopped using thirty years ago.
It doesn’t matter, Lei reminded himself. This is what you have. Fight the ship!
The thought struck him that he and Kai Yang were about to make history. A surface naval battle. No modern warships had engaged in a surface battle since World War II.
Of course, calling the Kai Yang a modern warship was stretching a point. If the old frigate were still in America, it would be a floating museum. Its surface search and fire control radars were inferior to the equipment on most private yachts. Originally delivered to the U.S. Navy as a destroyer in the 1940s, it had served a full career before being stricken from the list and transferred to the Taiwanese navy as a frigate.
Lei considered his situation. If he had any advantage over his Chinese adversary, it was his armament. He had Sea Sparrow air defense missiles for stand off protection. On either side he had twin turrets of five-inch, thirty-eight caliber guns. For extreme close in defense, Kai Yang was outfitted with the Phalanx M-61A1 Gatling gun system. His two destroyer escorts, Tai Yuan, and Wen Shan, were each armed with Mark 46 torpedoes and twin turrets of five-inch thirty-eights.
For offense, Lei still carried Harpoon cruise missiles, re-configured for anti-ship duty.
Or did he?
He tried to remember. Of the eight Harpoons originally stowed aboard Kai Yang, he had fired — how many? It came to him. Six, launched against targets on the mainland. The remaining two had been reserved for anti-ship attack.
“Have we loaded the Harpoons from the supply ship yet?”
“Don’t know, Captain,” The watch officer grabbed his sound-powered phone. “I’ll find out.”
“Forget it. Order the supply ships to break away. Suspend resupply and take us to general quarters.”
“Aye, Captain.” While the watch officer barked the commands into the sound-powered phone, his hand hit a mushroom-shaped knob on the OOD console. One second later, a klaxon horn sounded and a recorded voice announced in Chinese, “General quarters, general quarters. All hands man battle stations.”
Watching the crew below donning helmets and flotation jackets, scrambling to their stations, Lei nodded in approval. That was something they’d gotten good at. For most of the last two days, the crew of the Kai Yang had been running to battle stations.
“Captain, supply reports that we took three Harpoons aboard before breaking away.”
“Have them fuzed and loaded immediately.”
“Gunnery is already doing it, sir. They say they’ll be ready in five minutes.”
Lei felt a warm glow of pride for his crew. They knew they were in extreme danger. Never had he seen them perform with such cool efficiency.
“Conn, surface watch.” It was Fu Shing, the watch officer again. “We’re getting steady radar hits from the contact. He still bears two-nine-zero, range thirty kilometers, decreasing. Three distinct contacts, one emitting what we’re sure is a Russian radar. We think it’s a Sovremenny.”
Lei felt a chill sweep over him. “What probability?”
“Perhaps seventy-five percent. Dragon Boat makes the same appraisal.”
“Very well.” Lei called Fire Control. “Obtain a Harpoon firing solution for the inbound target. The largest contact.”
“Already done, Captain. He’s well within Harpoon range.”
Also well within Moskit supersonic missile range. The Sovremenny captain was taking his time. He knew his missiles could cover the distance between the ships in one third the time it took a Harpoon.
An old dictum from Lei’s academy days came to him. When you are outgunned, make sure you shoot first. He didn’t know who said it, but he believed it so much he had had it etched in brass and mounted above his desk. He still believed it. The Taiwanese navy was always outgunned. Make sure you shoot first.
“Fire the first Harpoon.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Lei shielded his eyes as the orange glow erupted from the vertical launcher on the starboard bow. It was the same fire-tailed apparition he’d witnessed the first night of the war when they launched the Harpoons against mainland targets. Through the steel bulkhead of the bridge he felt the rumble of the booster rocket that would kick the Harpoon up to near-supersonic speed before the turbojet engine took over.
Lei watched the missile leap into the sky, then level off and pursue its sea-skimming course to the northwest.
“Fire the second Harpoon.”
A moment’s pause. “Sir, that will be our last until the new ones—”
“Fire, damn it!”
CHAPTER 17 — DEFECTOR