He steadied the elevation angle and pressed a button on the periscope control console. Electronic relays snapped shut, valves porting hydraulic fluid clicked, and the periscope twirled a full revolution.
A printer produced a panoramic image of the world above the Hamza, and Hayat lowered the periscope. As he studied the image of the ocean’s surface and convinced himself the Hamza was alone, the chief petty officer spoke.
“Sir,” the chief said, “do you wish to stay at periscope depth? Since the MESMA propulsion unit is secured, perhaps we should snorkel.”
“We have enough battery charge to last the night,” Hayat said. “Let the resting men remain asleep.”
The chief pointed at a meter and instructed the sailor seated beside him to pump water overboard from the ship’s centerline tank. He returned his attention to Hayat.
“Do you need to broadcast a response to your message, sir?” he asked. “I’m holding depth easily.”
“No,” Hayat said. “We are out of range for a secure transmission, and our mission parameters include remaining undetected. Lower the radio mast and make your depth fifty meters.”
Hayat grabbed a polished rail for balance as the Hamza dipped forward. Raja passed through the watertight door.
“These orders are indeed urgent, sir,” he said.
“We’ll announce them to the crew in the morning. If we tell them now, none would be able to fall back to sleep, and I want a rested crew to carry out these orders.”
Bothered by body aches, Hayat slept fitfully and awoke tired. Having showered, he was zipping his jumpsuit when a knock on the door startled him.
“Come,” he said.
Raja entered.
“I am concerned, sir,” he said. “Overcoming an enemy in battle is one thing, but convincing a crew to follow a lie is something for which I have little talent.”
“You knew this time would come,” Hayat said.
“I will follow your lead, sir,” Raja said. “You have never let me down. I’m just not sure what to do.”
“Follow my cues. We will convince them.”
Hayat led Raja out of his stateroom and into the operations room. A lieutenant stood upon his arrival.
“Good morning, captain,” he said.
“Good morning, Lieutenant Walid,” Hayat said and reached into the overhead for a handset to speak to his crew.
“Attention, crew of the Hamza, this is the captain. We’ve etched our place in history through our gallantry and success in combat, but there is much more for us to achieve. We may soon be called to combat again, but this time in direct defense of our home.
“The torpedoes we loaded in Ningbo are nuclear-tipped, earned in exchange for supporting our Chinese allies. I do not have launch authority, but the threat of an Indian offensive has heightened tensions. It is expected that the Indian aircraft carrier, Viraat, will deploy to launch a pre-emptive air assault on Karachi.
“The Indians, however, know that our brethren in the submarine fleet will seek their carrier. Our countrymen would send them to the bottom before it could approach Karachi. With that risk, the Indians have asked the Americans to assist with air support against Karachi.
“If events unfold as feared, squadron command will task us with conducting an approach on the American aircraft carrier, Stennis. We will stand ready to prevent the Stennis from interfering with the defense of our port.
“I predict that Karachi will order us to launch a conventional attack against the carrier and reserve the nuclear weapons for a demonstration firing as a warning. However, we will be ready to use nuclear weapons in combat.
“The American carrier is performing a workup in the Eastern Pacific Ocean and is expected to make a port call in Pearl Harbor in the next few weeks. If hostilities increase, the Stennis will steam for our home waters. Our immediate order is to head to Pearl Harbor, shadow the carrier, and stand ready to attack it.
Hayat passed the handset to Raja.
“This is the executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Raja. I have read our latest orders from Karachi and concur with Commander Hayat.”
Hayat took back the handset.
“I am proud of the valor you showed in battle, and I will be honored to lead you into battle again.”
CHAPTER 13
Renard followed Li up an escalator and through two security checkpoints. At a third checkpoint outside the entrance to the command center, Commander Ye awaited.
“It is here that I will leave you with Commander Ye,” Li said. “Enough men inside that room remember you and are expecting you. Introductions are unnecessary.”
“I had expected you to join me,” Renard said. “Minister Zhao often accompanied me in the command center.”
“I am not Zhao.”
“Nor do you enjoy the same respect he earned with his operational commanders.”
“They are now my operational commanders,” Li said, “and I will leave you to them. I will watch from the overheard observatory. I would only get in your way.”
The acting Minister of Defense stormed away. Renard patted Commander Ye between the shoulder blades.
“Have no fear, man,” he said. “Somewhere within this mess lies a path to victory, and we shall find it.”
Renard entered the command center and felt two dozen eyes shift from an electronic navigation chart to him. The highest-ranking man, the chief of staff that he remembered from years ago, announced his arrival.
“If my eyes are not too old,” Admiral Kuotong Yang said in English, “two heroes have just entered the room.”
Renard had expected center stage.
“Two heroes?” he asked.
Ye whispered.
“When I commanded the Sea Tiger, I sank a Romeo-class submarine five miles off the coast of the Kaohsiung’s Tsoying naval base. It was trying to lay mines, but I stopped it. It was a noteworthy mission.”
“Noteworthy?” Renard asked. “Dear God, man. You and I may indeed have a bright future together.”
The admiral opened his arms.
“Come down here and join us,” he said. “Commander Ye needs no introduction, but Mister Renard may be unfamiliar to a few of us. I will explain your deeds in planning the destruction of the Chinese destroyer, Hefei, to those who do not remember.”
The admiral switched to Mandarin. Eyebrows raised on the faces of those who had been ignorant of Renard’s plan two years earlier that had sunk a Chinese destroyer with the risk of only two divers and a patrol craft.
Ye craned his neck as he led Renard down stairs into the sunken command center.
“I was not aware you had plotted the operation against the Hefei,” he said. “No Taiwanese lives lost — a capital ship taken completely by surprise — your work is legend.”
“Let’s pray that my work today proves equally sound.”
Renard glanced over the shoulder of a sailor seated at one of the monitors encircling the center. He recognized three pairs of blue triangles overlaying a map of Taiwan’s northern half and its surrounding waters as F-16 combat air patrols. The Chinese coast set the western end of the map, and a pair of red triangles paralleled one of the blue over the Straits of Taiwan.
The sailor pressed a button, and the triangles disappeared. Squares appeared, dotting the water, and Renard assumed they represented surface combatants. Blue friendly forces were concentrated within twelve miles of the Taiwanese coastline. The red squares — Chinese vessels — lined the shipping lanes to the harbor.
Before Renard could inquire, Ye clarified a question growing in his mind.