Feng’s arrival on board ship was an obvious attempt by him to share in the glory of Admiral Ji’s impending victory over the hated Japanese and arrogant Americans. When Feng’s helicopter appeared on the horizon, Ji seriously considered shooting it down, but there would be ample time after the coup to deal with him and his cronies. For now, he was still a useful tool in the struggle with President Sun.
A wide-eyed lieutenant called out from his comms station. “Admiral Ji! The Tiger II has gone off-line. We can’t raise her!”
Ji and Feng rushed over. “What do you mean, can’t raise her?” Ji demanded.
“She’s not answering radio calls. Text messages, e-mails, cell phones — nothing’s getting through.”
“Is she sunk?” Feng asked.
“No, sir. She’s still on our radar.”
“Contact the carrier air group commander. I want two more surveillance aircraft overhead in five minutes or I’ll have him court-martialed.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” The lieutenant snatched up a phone and dialed in the commander’s number.
“What does this mean?” Feng asked.
“Software malfunction. Power outage. Could be any number of things,” Ji offered.
“The Americans?”
Ji nodded. “Who else?”
Alarms suddenly blared throughout the CIC. The TAD flashed hundreds of inbound aerial bogies less than a quarter mile away — striking distance — coming at the ship from all directions. Automated chaff rockets exploded above decks, throwing radar-confusing aluminum clouds into the air as antiaircraft missiles and Gatling guns roared.
A bespectacled lieutenant next to Ji shouted, “We’re under attack!” The room exploded with nervous chatter as operators called out status reports.
Ji laid a firm hand on the shoulder of the nervous officer. “Calm down.”
“Sorry, sir.”
Ji turned to another officer. “Someone get me the CAP.”
“The CAP commander reports no visual sightings, but his radar has locked on to multiple targets, closing.” The commander of the combat air patrol flew the latest Shenyang J-15 Flying Shark fighter aircraft, which possessed its own long-range radar, also tied into the TAD.
“Air defense. Status report,” Ji said. The TAD screen exploded with dozens more aerial blips. More antiaircraft missiles roared out of their launchers above his head.
“No splashes, sir!”
“Our missiles hit nothing?”
“No, sir.”
“What kind of aircraft?”
“Indeterminate, sir. Too slow for missiles.”
“Super Hornets? Lightnings?” Ji feared the strike capabilities of the latest American carrier fighter-bombers, the F-35Cs.
“Too small. American CAP and surveillance aircraft all accounted for.”
“Shut down automated air defenses,” Ji ordered.
“Aye, aye, sir!”
“Is that wise?” Feng asked.
“We’re just wasting ammunition.” Ji turned around. “Damage control. Report.”
“Sir, damage control reports—”
Another alarm screamed.
Dozens of red blips suddenly appeared beneath the Liaoning, swarming in from every point of the compass. Station operators shouted out the information on their screens.
“Contact bearing 173, distance, 1,000 meters!”
“Contact bearing 238, distance, 950 meters!”
“Contact bearing 049, distance, 1,200 meters!”
“Contact bearing 313, distance, 800 meters!”
The ship’s captain called out, “Emergency flank speed!”
The other officers called out their status reports, but Ji ignored them. His eyes told him everything he needed to know.
“Torpedos?” Feng cried out. He was sweating despite the room’s low temperature.
“Too slow,” Ji said.
“What then? Submarines?”
Another dozen red blips appeared as the others drove toward the Liaoning.
“No.” Ji’s calm demeanor masked his grave concern.
Feng’s eyes grew as wide as boiled eggs. “The Americans have infected our computers!”
The commander in the chair next to Feng ran the ship’s IT systems. “Negative. All computers are functional, no viruses detected.”
Another alarm sounded. “Surface contacts, bearing 040, 122, 274!”
“I don’t like this,” Feng squealed. “We’re vulnerable.”
Ji called over to the mission-control officer. “Put the Wu-14 online. Make all necessary preparations for an immediate launch.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
SIXTY-SIX
Troy, the Wu-14 is online!” Ian’s brogue thickened on the comms as his adrenaline kicked in. “The bot is active. Repeat, bot is active!”
Troy felt his blood pressure drop. Whenever extreme danger arose, his body always responded by slowing down. It brought him a preternatural calm, one of the reasons he was so effective in combat.
The third software bot that Pearce told Ian to plant in the Wu-14’s onboard computer lay dormant until now. It was the only way to guarantee it couldn’t be detected until this point. Now that the Wu-14 and the mission-control station on board the Liaoning were linked and the satellite connection was active, the bot was in play.
A video screen above the mission-control officer’s head displayed the Wu-14 on its mobile launcher at Ningbo.
“All systems go. You have operational control, Admiral.”
Feng dashed over to Ji, grabbed him by the arm. “Are you mad? We’re vulnerable. We should retreat.”
“We’ll never have a better chance than this,” Ji said. “The Americans will be better prepared next time.”
“They appear to be prepared for us now. I order you to retreat.”
Ji’s mouth thinned. “A gutless mouse. I should’ve known.”
“Don’t be foolish. There’s always another day—”
WHAP! Ji backhanded Feng across his jaw. The minister yelped, grasping his bleeding mouth with both manicured hands.
“Throw this coward into the brig!” Ji commanded.
Two armed guards grabbed the whimpering politician by his arms. Feng cried out as he was dragged out of the CIC, “He’s a madman! Turn around before it’s too late!”
“Where’s the George Washington?” Ji demanded. Another mission-control officer had a God’s-eye satellite view of the American carrier on his monitor. Joysticks and a computer screen were also fixed at his desk. He would be the one to guide the Wu-14 to its hypersonic final destination.
“The George Washington is still holding just outside the red line, sir. But within strike distance.”
“Are they launching more aircraft?”
The officer glanced at his monitor. The George Washington’s deck was covered with fighter-bombers waiting to launch.
“They’re holding so far.”
Ji took a deep breath. The Americans were hesitating just as he predicted. They were fearful of provoking his own powerful fleet. Fortunately for him, the George Washington’s crowded flight deck was crammed with fully fueled and bomb-laden aircraft. That made it even more vulnerable to a missile strike.