The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs said, “Mr. Secretary, I would add that American forces fought valiantly to hold off a Chinese advance in Panama. And…”
The Secretary of State said, “I don’t question the valiance of our military members, General. But it sounds like the Chinese have taken South America, and the situation is only getting grimmer.” He turned to the president. “Our president recently received a lovely note from the Chinese leader, General Chen, informing us of their new biological weapons program and their intent to use it as a nuclear deterrent. They apparently weren’t concerned about the ban on such weapons.”
The door opened, and heads turned toward an Air Force officer who delivered a note to the president. President Roberts looked up. “Tell them.”
The Air Force officer cleared his throat. “The PLA has begun using chemical weapons in Panama. The reports are still preliminary, but it looks like they’ve broken through our lines and are now moving north toward Costa Rica.”
The president nodded to the Air Force officer. “Thank you, that will be all.”
“Those poor souls,” said the Secretary of Energy.
The Secretary of State said, “Mr. President, with all due respect, our strategy is clearly not working…”
The president looked at David and General Schwartz. “Gentlemen, I think it’s about time you shared our strategy.”
General Schwartz nodded to David, who stood.
David said, “Ladies and gentlemen, my name is David Manning. I work for Joint Task Force Silversmith. How many of you are familiar with Operation Bodyguard, the Allied deception plan during World War Two?”
Lena knocked on the door of Minister Dong’s private residence after hours. His wife eyed Lena with disapproval, but Dong shooed her away and guided Lena into his private study. He opened a gray box resting near his bookshelf and flipped a switch. Lena recognized it as an anti-electronic eavesdropping device.
Lena said, “I wished to speak with you about the strategic deterrence program.”
Dong said, “The bioweapon, you mean. What about it?”
“You seemed concerned.”
“I am.”
Lena said, “Our nuclear launch process has very strong safeties involved to ensure no mistakes are made. I worry that this biological weapon doesn’t have the same safeguards installed. A weapon of this power should not be easy to release.”
Minister Dong said, “Neither the biological weapons program nor our strategic missile program is under my purview.”
“True. But the satellite launch facility is. You still control what happens on that island.”
Minister Dong narrowed his eyes. “What does that matter?”
“The military has broken through the American lines in Central America. Our Atlantic forces will soon open up a second front on the American homeland. The final push is coming. If the Americans get desperate, General Chen might be tempted to use his strategic weapons. He has ordered the Strategic Missile Commander to make both nuclear and biological strategic weapons ready for this final stage in the war. Our nuclear missile submarines have clear safety procedures. But the Strategic Missile Commander won’t be able to use our nuclear missile submarines to deliver this biological weapon. They are already waiting off the American coast. He needs a missile launch system that will be ready immediately. I believe your space launch facility has an appropriate launch system, does it not? You could offer this. Then you would have influence over the safety protocol. I am very interested in the design of the safety procedures for this weapon.”
“This is most interesting.” Dong met her eyes with a knowing look. “Who gave you this idea? A new friend? Or an old one, perhaps?”
Lena said, “You once asked me to support you when your moment came. That moment can still come, if we work together. But we must move quickly.”
36
Chase returned to the Norfolk Naval Station airport and waited in the base ops building for the rest of the DEVGRU team to arrive. An Air Force jet was scheduled to pick them up in a few hours, and the SEALs were only starting to get here. Hurry up and wait.
Norfolk was as busy as ever, despite the immense damage from weeks earlier. There were signs of the attack, for sure. Lots of scaffolding on superstructures. Remains of sunken ships. But the sailors, Marines, and airmen were everywhere, hustling to and fro, like things were accelerating. Most weren’t allowed to leave their ships and bases. A new operational security rule. They were to be ready to set sail, or hop on a transport, the moment they received the order.
On the waiting area near the airfield, the TV was playing local news. Another story on the looming naval battle in the Atlantic. The talking heads were predicting the worst, with most American ships still under repairs and in port. The few seaworthy ones had already been sortied. But the experts felt they would be little match for the approaching Chinese armada.
When the newscasters finished that discussion, they moved on to how bad the economy had gotten.
“C-17’s arriving in ten,” said one of the unit’s senior chiefs who had called up to the control tower to get an estimate. Chase walked out to the flight line, his green sea bag hung over his shoulder.
“You gonna tell us what we’re doing yet?” one of them asked Chase.
“Soon.” He smiled.
Twenty minutes later, the elite special operations team was loaded on an Air Force transport. The rear door closed, and the aircraft began rolling down the taxiway. Eight hours earlier, David and the Silversmith folks had given Chase the biggest surprise of his professional career when they informed him of DEVGRU’s mission.
Now it was Chase’s turn to pass that news on to the team. His first stop was the cockpit, where he informed the pilots that they would be changing their destination in flight.
They let him remain up front during takeoff. The view was spectacular.
“Hey, man,” one of the pilots called to Chase over the internal comms. “You see this?”
The port at NS Norfolk was emptying out. A line of destroyers steamed out of the channel and into the Atlantic. The two aircraft carriers — both covered with construction tents and scaffolding earlier that day — were now in various stages of departure, one with tugs attached, just leaving the pier, the other plowing east through the water just outside the final channel marker. Their flight decks were clear, and they appeared undamaged.
“I thought all those ships were out of commission?” the pilot said.
Chase put a finger over his lips and made a shushing noise.
As the C-17 Globemaster III leveled off at altitude, Chase headed back to the cargo bay where the DEVGRU team was waiting, sitting in rows of passenger seats. The unit’s intelligence officer was connecting her computer to a monitor.
Seeing Chase approach, one of the SEALS yelled to him over the whine of jet engines.
“Hey, Chase, spill it, man. Where are we headed, Costa Rica? There’s money riding on this, brother. What’s the deal? We going to need to put on our chem gear?”
Chase shook his head and handed the intel officer an encrypted drive, which she slid into her computer.
“We’re not going to Central America.”
He pressed the button on the computer and a map appeared, showing their flight path. An arrow heading halfway across the world.
“We’ll be headed to the Western Pacific.”
A few whistles from the crowd.
“Our orders have us HALO dropping at these coordinates…”
Chase glanced at the screen, now showing a blue submarine icon northwest of the Philippines.