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“My apologies, Major,” Wilson nodded, ever the diplomat. “With the world situation, we must prepare for tasking here. We’ll need to load up tanks and configure the jets as parts and people arrive. Lieutenant, expect us to fly combat sorties later this afternoon.”

Combat, sir, with ordnance? We don’t have any here.”

Wilson pointed at the C-17. “There might be some on that jet.”

Williams looked at the horizon and saw several aircraft approaching Iwo Jima. He still couldn’t believe what he had heard.

“You deck ran them, sir? No catapult?”

Wilson nodded with a smile. “Yep, no catapult. Now, you are going to have 50-plus aircraft and a few hundred personnel here in the next few hours. We need spaces, billeting, food, security and a hundred other things my people will request of you to support an air wing ashore. Combat sorties this afternoon. And I need a phone with a secure line to Vice Admiral McGill. Let’s go.”

Williams still could not believe how the airplanes got off the ship. “Even the E-2, sir?”

Wilson smiled. “If you see an E-2 from Hancock land here, it left the ship with a deck run.”

* * *

At that moment, 600 miles southwest of Yokosuka, Shen Ju-Lang and Changzheng 8 had a chance for redemption.

Sonar detected multiple contacts to the north and soon classified them: American Wasp-class and Burke-class signatures. The Doppler drift indicated a southwest course at 15 knots. Shen put his ship at battle stations and steadied on a course of 300 to intercept.

The dispatch from Fleet Headquarters electrified the crew. It was war with the Americans, and PLA(N) standing orders were to attack and sink any American combatants found inside the second island chain and to disable Japanese warships operating outside a 200-mile economic limit. A later dispatch reported that the nuclear carrier Hancock was disabled off the Bonin Islands, with another carrier reported near Guam. An ancient Han attack boat was some 200 miles west of the island, on what, to Shen, was a suicide mission. The cranky boat was old, but it was all the PLA(N) could manage as diesel boats didn’t have the range to operate at such great distances. The Han would act as a targeting intel collector for American movements into the Philippine Sea, enabling aviation and rocket forces to target and attack American strike groups. Maybe the old boat would take some with him before he was sunk by American ASW forces. At least Shen could have reasonable certainty that he was the only PLA(N) submarine in these waters; anything he detected would be enemy.

Inside ten miles he slowed to a stop and raised the periscope. Yes! An American helicopter carrier, flat deck with a large boxy superstructure amidships. It was indeed escorted by a Burke class destroyer on the far horizon, his distinctive silhouette outlined against the clear morning sky. Shen saw no airborne aircraft and only a containership to the east as he conducted his sweep.

“Mark—Wasp class. Mark—Burke class. Down scope, make your depth 20 meters. Helm, ahead one-third. Make revolutions for five knots.” His Tactical Officer entered the bearings with the sonar range and drift into the firing-solution computer. Shen maneuvered to sweeten the shot.

Shen’s orders included the need to avoid detection. He was fortunate the destroyer was on the far side of his prey; the destroyer’s sonar was masked along the bearing Shen was inside. He didn’t see any airborne helicopters and sonar reported no rotor blade transients. He would shoot two torpedoes into the carrier’s forward keel, then run southeast and get deep.

The Americans had sortied an amphibious assault ship from their west coast, a ship that could land marines on Chinese territory. The sonar track showed it was heading toward the gap between Taiwan and The Philippines to enter the Southern Sea. The gods of war were smiling on Shen, and he could not lose this gift.

“Flood tubes one and two,” he said in a calm tone, and the Tactical Officer reported a green firing solution on the carrier.

“Very well,” Shen replied, then added, “Helm, ahead dead slow. Make revolutions for two knots.” He scribbled a message to send to HQ when he returned to periscope depth and could raise the radio mast to burst transmit and receive. Changzheng 8 slowed and slid into an optimum firing position.

FROM: 408

TO: SUBFLOT SOUTH

SUBJ: INITIAL REPORT

ATTACKED WASP CLASS CVH ESCORTED BY BURKE CLASS DDG 2524N 13442E. RETIRED SE.

Shen handed the message to the radioman and reread the track sonar diagnostics on the display screen. Readings of twin shafts correlated to a LM2500 gas turbine signature: Wasp class all right, but there was an anomaly that caused the track display confidence level to show yellow. He would look again before he shot, but there was no doubt about the destroyer diagnostics and silhouette. He assessed it on the scope between 8 and 10 miles distant…. He’d close to no-escape range and be at least five miles and opening by the time the first torpedo struck. The control room was focused, and all knew they were making history. An American Wasp-class carrier was a huge trophy, and Shen wanted it more than he had wanted anything in his life.

“Comrade Captain, we have firing solutions on tubes one and two.”

“Very well,” Shen answered. “Diving Officer, make your depth 10 meters. Prepare to deploy the radio mast.”

Changzheng 8 eased up and at 10 meters Shen took the scope for a last look. That’s why, he thought. The helicopter carrier was refueling alongside a tanker, lashed together and unable to maneuver. The tanker’s bow poked ahead of the high bow of the Wasp-class vessel, and its single screw, churning only 30 meters from the carrier, no doubt had caused the anomaly on the sonar diagnostics. The destroyer maintained station to starboard, and no airborne aircraft were visible. Shen was undetected and had a positive ID on the Americans, but something about this made him uneasy. His crew watched him in anticipation.

“Open tube doors one and two!”

Shen knew this action could alert the enemy ships, especially the destroyer, but the two ships refueling shielded him from sonar detection. His transmission went out in a burst — to a satellite he did not know was disabled by the Americans. His submarine crept closer.

“Comrade Captain, tube doors one and two are open! Green firing solutions!”

“Very well,” Shen muttered as he continued to study the vessels. The carrier had something on the bow. What is that? He increased the magnification. Shen’s eyes got big. A hull number! American carriers don’t have hull numbers painted on the hull!

On the carrier’s superstructure he found the flag: red and white stripes. He blinked…. No, the ship was Japanese! A wave of relief came over him, and he exhaled as the tension flowed out.

“First Officer, take a look,” Shen said, and stepped away from the scope. His First Officer peered into the viewfinder, and, after a few seconds, turned to Shen, who commanded the scope down.

“Do you see what I see?” Shen asked.

“Japanese Hōshō class alongside a tanker and a Burke destroyer to starboard. Probably also Japanese and far from Japanese waters.”