"This, gentlemen," Neil said in the darkness, "is the U.S.S. Chimera, ARL 42. She's three hundred twenty-eight feet long, with a fifty-foot beam and an eleven-foot draft. Top speed eleven knots. She carries a complement of eleven officers and one hundred eighty-two enlisted personnel. The ship was laid down in 1945 as the LST 1156. Today, she is the last World-War-II-era LST still in service with the U.S. Navy. Chimera served as a light repair ship until 1971, when she was finally mothballed at Bremerton.
"In the early eighties she underwent a full refit. The machine shops, foundries, all the inboard repair ship gear were torn out and replaced by the latest in electronic wizardry from our friends at Fort Meade."
That brought a low buzz of murmured conversation from the men sitting in the darkened room. Electronics and Fort Meade meant the National Security Agency.
"In 1985 she was recommissioned as an AGI," Neil continued, an intelligence collection ship. Six months ago, when the crisis in Korea first began building, she was deployed to the Sea of Japan. Her mission was to remain well offshore, one hundred, one hundred fifty miles at sea, eavesdropping on Korean Communist radio and radar transmissions, recording them for decoding by the NSA. Three days ago, Chimera received new orders from the Navy Department. It was felt… expedient to move her in close to shore, close enough that she could monitor local tactical radio frequencies. The Jefferson's battle group was moving into the area at the time, and Washington wanted a more accurate picture of what the Koreans were up to."
The slide projector chunked again, and the converted LST was replaced by another map, this one a close-up of the peninsula's east coast. "Here's the coastline we're interested in," Neil said. He used a pointer in the shaft of light to throw a shadow on the screen, a black finger lying across the Sea of Japan. "These are the PDRK's major east coast ports… Ch'ongiin up here in the north… the Hamhung-Hungnam complex… and down here is Wonsan, sixty miles above the Demarcation Line. Wonsan is the principal KorCom port on the east coast.
"I think it's important to point out at this point that Chimera was operating in international waters throughout this time," Neil said. "The Koreans have recognized the international twelve-mile limit. Chimera was under orders to approach the Korean coast no closer than fifteen miles at any point.
"For reasons which have not yet been ascertained, North Korean forces attacked Chimera yesterday morning, beginning at approximately zero-seven-thirty. The attack took place here… fifteen miles off the coast, and about thirty miles from the port of Wonsan. Radar intercepts suggest that both air and surface units were involved. One of our Hawkeyes tracked Chimera all the way into Wonsan Harbor, and we must assume she is there now."
Neil signaled for the room lights to be brought up and snapped off the projector. He walked toward the front of the room, hands on hips. "Washington, obviously, is concerned. At zero-two-fifty this morning, Jefferson's battle group received orders through CINCPAC and Seventh Fleet to move to a new operational area, centered one hundred fifty miles east of the North Korean port of Kosong. Our orders as of this time are to hold our position, to take no action which will further inflame the situation until Washington can develop a viable strategy."
Someone muttered something near the front of the room, and Neil turned sharply to face him. "You said something, Mr. Greene?"
"Yes, sir," the skipper of VA-89 said loudly. Lieutenant Commander Greene was CO of the Death Dealers, one of Jefferson's two A-6F Intruder squadrons. Marusko knew the man had a reputation as a bigmouth. Loud he might be, and opinionated, but he was a good pilot… and a good skipper. "I just said, sir, that we could give Washington one hell of a viable strategy. An A-6 strike on Wonsan would be just about perfect!"
"Right on, Jolly," someone else said. "Bomb the SOBs back to the Stone Age!"
"Which is just what we can't do, gentlemen," Neil said, asserting control once more. "Washington wants to keep a lid on the situation here. The intelligence community just isn't sure yet what the Korean Communist intentions are ― why they've provoked this crisis."
"Intelligence, right," muttered Steve Murcheson, commander of the carrier's other Intruder squadron, VA-84. Marusko knew what he was thinking. Neil's reference to "the intelligence community" meant the CIA, the NSA, and military intelligence all working together, organizations that had been wrong at least as often as they'd been right in recent years. They'd been great at collecting information, but analysis was weak. Marusko had known cases where field commanders had actually been hampered by too much raw data, with no way to tell what was important and what was not.
And when it came to guessing what was going through the minds of the enemy, well…
The younger Magruder leaned back in his seat with his arms folded across his chest. "What I want to know is why we weren't allowed to go in and help the Chimera yesterday? If Washington wanted to keep things bottled up, they should have done something to keep the gomers from taking her into port!"
"You got that right," VF-97's skipper said. John "Made it" Bayerly gave Tombstone a cocky thumbs-up. "If we could've gone in across the line, a strafing run or two would've driven off the Korean ships, and-"
"It's a bit late for recriminations now," Neil interrupted. "We just have to play with the hand we've got."
"Some hand," Tombstone said. "Two hundred hostages held in Wonsan. What are we supposed to do, sit here and make faces at the North Koreans?"
"The State Department has initiated action, Commander," Neil said. "While we have no diplomatic relations with the PDRK, we have access through the Military Armistice Commission at Panmunjom. A formal deputation will meet with-"
"A formal deputation?" the younger Magruder exploded. "Those SOBs pirated one of our ships and shot down one of our aircraft! Don't you-"
"Just a moment," Admiral Magruder said, stepping up behind the podium. "May I remind you… may I remind all of you that it is not the Navy's place to tell Washington what to do. We carry out foreign policy. We don't make it. For now, and until further notice, this carrier group is on hold, to be used if and when the National Command Authority deems it necessary."
Marusko sighed. The magic name of the National Command Authority had been invoked. It would be the President of the United States, working through the Joint Chiefs and State, who would handle the responsibility now.
"Any questions?" Neil asked. His manner made it clear he did not expect any.
Paul Larson raised his hand. The lanky commander was CO of VS-42, Jefferson's squadron of antisubmarine Vikings.
"Commander Larson?"
"Just what are we up against? I've never thought much about the North Koreans as Naval opponents!"
Several members of the audience chuckled.
"We shouldn't face too much in the way of direct threat to our carrier group," Neil agreed. "They have four Najin-class frigates, one of which was probably involved yesterday with Chimera's capture. Osa missile boats, patrol craft." He glanced at the admiral. "Their primary offensive arm is their submarine fleet, Whiskey-class boats, and a few Romeos. But they're all diesel jobs, out-of-date and noisy as hell. They won't be a problem."