Paganelli assessed his combat readiness. Except for the Duty Officer, the entire E-2 Hawkeye ready room was still ashore. From among the staff and crew aboard who had any experience in the aircraft, John Adams could muster one five-man crew, and he would have to grant the out-of-qual pilots a waiver to operate from his flight deck. In effect, he had no indigenous airborne early warning.
Between the fighter and helicopter squadrons, he could cobble together enough pilots to stand 30-minute alerts, and through the night, squadron maintenance crews — all exhausted and some still hung over — prepped and loaded aircraft for a defensive posture while wearing protective clothing which hindered their movements. Air-to-air missiles and full gun drums were loaded on the fighters, with Hellfire missiles, rockets, and mini-guns on the helos. At the moment, John Adams’ best “weapon” was to run at 30 knots, escorted by the “shotgun” guided-missile destroyer Marvin Shields off the starboard quarter.
Paganelli’s strike group admiral had been left ashore, “trapped” along with hundreds of other sailors detained by the Chinese. They slime our ship and detain the liberty party — if we aren’t at war, we will be by nightfall, Paganelli thought. He watched a fishing boat wallow in the sea miles to starboard and wondered what they were thinking — and what they had that could do him harm.
On the GCCS display he could see Cape Esperance and Koelsch had joined some 250 miles to the south and were heading north on a rendezvous course. All four of the American ships could be joined up by lunchtime if Fleet Ops allowed it. Right now, they just wanted to get everyone into the Philippine Sea, which for John Adams and Marvin Shields was still a hard day’s steaming ahead and with no guarantee of “safety” once they passed the first island chain.
A call came over the secure net that Koelsch had fired on a Chinese Coast Guard cutter that was showing too much aggression. Un-freakin’-believable, Paganelli thought. He called the Tactical Action Officer to get two fighters airborne and soon heard the alert called away on the 1MC.
Joe Littleton stepped up from behind. “Good morning, Captain.”
“Hello, Joe,” Paganelli said over his shoulder. “Get any sleep?”
“Not much. How about you, sir?”
“No, I tried and failed to get in a combat nap. Hey, we’re running at near flank, about to launch the alert, have half our crew ashore and the guys we have aboard are exhausted. But we’re going to be under the Chinese aviation umbrella for at least the next 24 hours and subs can be anywhere. We’ll need to work our guys four-hours-on and four-off, port-and-starboard watches. Need you and your team to help manage this risk.”
“Yes, sir, we’re making the rounds, trying to see if we can avoid the unnecessary stuff — but, right now, everything is necessary. Personnel manning is lowest in the reactor spaces, followed by the galley.”
“Break out the PB&J and cereal. If the galley and wardroom can give us one good hot meal for dinner, that will work. Frankly, Joe, with the XO ashore I’d like you to step up as acting. Looking out for the crew is job one. We have to operate with what we have to the limit — maybe a step over it — and try not to get anyone killed. I’ll inform the other department heads.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Littleton nodded.
A thunderous roar and pressure change shook the bridge, and all looked outside to see a single fighter belching dark smoke recede ahead of both American ships before it turned hard to the north. “Dammit!” Paganelli said as he picked up the phone.
“Did you see what kind of fighter that was?” he asked Littleton as he waited for his Tactical Action Officer to answer.
“No, sir, not much on fighter recce…”
“I think it was a J-10… Combat! We just got boomed by a J-10! Is that my warning of an inbound contact?”
Littleton tried to listen to the conversation and watched Paganelli’s perturbed glare as his eyes followed the fighter, now a speck against the gray overcast.
“Did Marvin Shields know? Are you guys in close contact because it appears war is imminent, and that guy just committed an act that can lead to one. Are you tracking him now…? Good. If he gets within ten miles of me again, let me know. Get some lookouts on the signal bridge. I don’t care if they’re not qualled, get some people up there, and sound general quarters. We may have to stay in GQ the rest of the day. And I want weapons trained on that guy. Don’t break lock. Out here.”
Paganelli turned to Littleton. “Here comes GQ. After you muster, get your people out roving, and watch the crew. Watch for signs of breakdown or anything you see as a serious risk.”
At that moment, the 1MC sounded General Quarters, and the crew scurried to prepare themselves for potential battle. Paganelli looked over at the 20-year-old helmsman, a girl showing nervous fear as she strapped her gas-mask to her hip while maintaining course. Wonder if her recruiter told her there would be days like this? Paganelli asked himself.
Launching the alert aircraft took on an even greater urgency, and John Adams sent a FLASH message to Seventh Fleet headquarters about the aggressive Chinese flyover. The message was forwarded up the chain. Marvin Shields was tracking the bogey, too, and Paganelli conferred with the destroyer’s CO on bridge-to-bridge as they exchanged the information they had. They needed to figure out what was going on in the middle of the South China Sea.
CHAPTER 6
Staff officers at Southern Theater Command in Nanjing and Eastern Theater Command in Guangzhou were arguing.
The American carrier and escort ship had bolted out of Hong Kong like scalded dogs, in the dangerous night. Without permission, or so much as a thank you, they had disrupted shipping and scared innocent junks and fishing boats in the lanes entering the crowded harbor. Unknown to the military commands until much later, civil authorities had received word from Beijing to detain the American sailors ashore. Waiting on tasking from Beijing, the theater commanders’ options were limited at night, and each commander thought he was the one responsible to track the carrier.
Eastern Theater Air Force sortied a KJ-500 Airborne Early Warning aircraft from Shanghai while the Navy Air Force launched one from Hainan. These propeller driven “cargo” aircraft, equipped with large radar disks rotating over their fuselages, were able to detect the Americans fifty miles off the coast of Hong Kong after midnight. Each aircraft reported the position to its own theater’s HQ. Before dawn, Southern Theater launched two Air Force J-10s from Huiyang. One returned with engine trouble, but the other J-10, flown by an overzealous and inexperienced pilot, spotted the American carrier and reported its position, course, and speed — getting all three parameters wrong. What he did not report was that he overflew the ship at only 30 meters and at a supersonic airspeed, fearing the murderous Americans would shoot him down if given the chance. He further reported that American fire control radars had “lit him up,” an aggressive act.
Headquarters staff then reported the American actions up to Beijing, which had to sort through two versions of the truth, both of which were false. PLA headquarters went with the worst-case scenario: the Americans were forming a task force northwest of Luzon and launching planes to attack. Southern, Eastern, and Northern Theaters placed their forces on high alert.