This wasn’t Dreamland. Still, he was definitely being lax, at least by his standards/
He felt—what? Sorry for her?
She would have killed him, though.
“All right, Captain. For now, keep her isolated. We’re going to have to consult with Admiral Woods on what to do with her,” said Bastian. “But under no circumstances is she going anywhere without my specific approval.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Even if Woods tells you something else.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dog frowned. The steady hum of a Megafortress grew in the distance. “We’ve been chopped to PACCOM, but we’re supposed to maintain strategic security,” added the colonel. “I’m not exactly sure how we’re supposed to accomplish that. Especially given that Admiral Woods is a class-one—”
The roar of a Megafortress landing on the nearby runway drowned out the end of Dog’s sentence, but it wasn’t particularly difficult to fill in the blank.
Philippines
1200
Bree absentmindedly ran her hand along the back of her husband’s wheelchair, listening as the Navy intelligence officer continued his briefing about the layout of Chinese and Indian forces in the area. Her father stood next to him, arms tightly folded and eyes fixed in a glare. He’d already snapped twice at errors the man had made when talking about the Megafortresses’ capabilities. He appeared fully capable of strangling him if he misspoke again; his glare looked more potent than the Razor antiaircraft laser.
Breanna hadn’t seen him so belligerent since his first few weeks at Dreamland. He didn’t like Woods, that much was clear—he frowned every time the admiral started to speak. Breanna had heard about the admiral’s antics during the Piranha test, and so she understood there’d be some competitive animosity, but this seemed to go beyond that. Woods, though a bit gruff and obviously used to having his way, seemed competent and intelligent, traits her father normally held in high regard.
There were two battle groups in the South China Sea; the Chinese were at the north, the Indians at the south. Numerically, the Chinese held a serious advantage. They now had two small aircraft carriers with supporting destroyers and a cruiser. The Chinese carriers were a little less than seven hundred feet long and drew about twenty thousand tons fully loaded; by contrast the U.S.’s Lincoln measured over a thousand feet and displaced more than a hundred thousand tons. Size-wise, they were more equivalent to American assault carriers like the Wasp than what the U.S. considered front-line aircraft carriers. They were, nonetheless, potent, able to project serious airpower and the centerpiece of a major task force.
The Indians currently had eight destroyers and two guided-missile cruisers heading toward the Chinese fleet. About a day behind them was an ancient aircraft carrier named Vikrant, originally named Hercules when build by the British in 1946. The Indians had bought it soon afterward, operating her for nearly forty years before taking her into dock for repair and refurbishment. Another round of repairs and renovations had just been completed, adding a British ski jump to her flight deck, among other things. Also tiny by American standards, she was a bit bigger than the Chinese carriers but probably roughly their equivalent.
Her aircraft complement was unknown, but certainly included first-generation Harrier jump jets. There were also reliable reports that a version of the MiG-29K had been adapted by the Russian specifically for the Indian aircraft carrier. The MiG had lost a fly-off to the sea version of the Su-27/Su-33 as the preferred multirole fighter for the stillborn Russian carrier navy, but many analysts felt the smaller MiG-29K would have been a far better choice; its only shortcoming—albeit a serious one—was its more limited endurance.
“We haven’t seen those planes yet,” said the intelligence officer, tapping on the map spread out on the table. “One theory is they’re being kept belowdecks to escape satellite surveillance. If so, there wouldn’t be more than six. I have to admit, our intelligence on the Vikrant isn’t good. The Indians bought the ship into dry dock last year and claimed it was beyond repair. We know a lot more about a sister ship, or close to a sister ship, called the Viraat. It has eighteen Harriers and some Russian ASW helicopters. It’s back here, near India. We don’t expect it to be a player at this time.”
“What about the submarines we’re supposed to find?” asked Zen.
“Ah yes, the subs.” He pulled an overlay out from under the map. It was a large, clear transparency with yellow and red circles. “The two new Chinese attack subs were spotted around here,” he said, pointing to an area of the Chinese coast just to the right of Vietnam, “eighteen hours ago. You’ll appreciate that I can’t discuss the specific intelligence methods used to find them,” he added.
It was a snotty allusion to Dreamland’s security protocols, and drew a snort from nearly everyone in the room. The Fleet hadn’t found the subs at all—they’d been spotted by satellite, and all the details were readily available to the Dreamland team.
The intelligence officer continued, comparing the submarines to high-tech British attack boats powered by an ultraquiet propulsion system. Roughly as silent as the Indian ship on battery power, Piranha would have to stay closer than twenty miles to track them. The Indian submarine was bound to be easier to find initially, since it had to eventually come up for air and recharging.
“Your job is to find all the submarines and keep tabs on them,” said Woods. “You’ll work with our standard ASW patrols. We have two submarines en route, as well as several surface ships that can be tasked to shadow the submarines once they’re located. Those assets are all some distances away, however.”