“Wraith, Fox Den. Over.”
“Fox Den, Wraith. Over,” Jake said.
After establishing communications, Renard felt comfortable dropping the formalities.
“I’m curious, Jake,” he said. “Did you by chance hear a railgun round impact the Chengdu?”
“No. It must be too far away. That’s good news, though. I was afraid I’d have to take down the entire task force singlehandedly.”
“Perhaps not. God willing, you shall remain an observer.”
“I’m standing by. Is there anything you need me to do now?”
“No. I just wanted to inform you that Commander Cahill was overcome by a fit of optimism and has decided to drive northwest to intercept the task force.”
“He’s been authorized to launch weapons?”
“Sadly, no.”
“Then what’s he thinking?”
“He was rather cryptic and wouldn’t let me talk him out of it, but I believe he’s going to attempt to distract the incoming force.”
“Shit. That’s ballsy.”
“Or foolish,” Renard said. “The worst of it is that he’ll lose his covert communications with friendly civilian vessels. If we need to speak with him, he’ll have to transmit with enough power to be detected.”
“He seems like a sharp guy, Pierre. Give him a chance. Let’s see what he does.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t enjoy the liberty to share your outlook. I feel somehow responsible for him.”
Renard sensed motion around him.
“There’s activity here,” he said. “Excuse me. I will contact you again soon.”
He swiveled his chair and looked up. Torres pressed an earpiece to his head and raised a finger to hush any question the Frenchman might ask. Then, with a glint in his eye, he pointed to the screen.
“Another hit,” he said. “This one showed a secondary explosion forward of the destroyer’s bridge.”
“You may have hit the vertical launch cell or perhaps the main gun’s magazine,” Renard said.
“I will seek a damage assessment from American satellite imagery,” Torres said. “The task force is not yet within visual range of our merchant spies.”
A mid-grade officer two consoles away startled Renard with a shrill announcement.
“Missile launch detected!” the officer said.
“Details!” Torres said. “Which ship launched it? Missile Speed? Intended target?”
“Launched from the destroyer, sir. YJ-8 anti-ship missile. It’s heading southeast, but it’s too soon to know its target. With waypoints, it could be any of our ships or the railgun module. Our C-295 early warning and control aircraft is tracking it on radar.”
“How many missiles are in flight?” Torres asked.
“Just the one, sir.”
“The leader of the task force knows that long-distance launches provide more time for your defenses to engage his incoming missiles,” Renard said. “He would prefer to get closer, but your last hit with the railgun has shown him that you can destroy his missiles before he wishes to launch them. A solitary missile launch is a test of your defenses.”
“Then we shall pass the test and reveal as little of our defensive structure as possible,” Torres said.
In addition to managing the submarines, Renard served as an advisor on the railgun module’s abilities. He felt the liberty to question the flag officer’s intent.
“Do you wish to seal the module?” he asked. “Lower the weapons subsection for protection?”
“No,” Torres said. “I wish to maintain the firing cadence of twenty-second intervals. I don’t want the task force commander to think that he can restrict my firing rate by launching a single missile. The railgun module will remain at full capacity.”
“The destroyer is eighty-five nautical miles away,” Renard said. “The missile travels one mile in roughly five seconds. I recommend using just the laser defenses and to engage with the close-in weapon system only if the lasers fail.”
“Agreed,” Torres said.
“You’ll have almost seven minutes of missile flight time before it’s in range of your defenses,” Renard said. “It’s a frustratingly slow missile when used at distance. You’ll need to be patient.”
“I’ve waited an entire career for my chance to stop China from spreading its dominance around my home waters,” Torres said. “I can wait another seven minutes.”
Seven minutes later, a mid-grade officer announced the uneventful success of the laser defense.
“The inbound missile is destroyed,” he said. “The first laser hit it. No firing of the second laser defense system was required.”
“Excellent,” Torres said.
“Missile launch detected!” the officer said.
“Again? Details!” Torres said.
“From the destroyer again, sir. It’s heading southeast. Our jets are tracking it on radar. This one is supersonic, though. Approximately Mach 4.”
“How many missiles are in flight?” Torres asked.
“Just the one, sir. Only one again.”
“He’s testing you again,” Renard said. “He’s using an anti-air missile in anti-surface mode. He knows the warhead will have negligible damage, but the weapon’s kinetic energy may be a risk.”
“A fragile airframe against reinforced concrete?” Torres asked. “His anti-air missiles have no penetration capability.”
“I agree in theory,” Renard said. “But even with only half its fuel remaining, the missile will weigh roughly a ton. None of us wishes to see how many three-thousand-mile-per-hour, one-ton blows the module can take.”
“The incoming weapon is too fast for anything except lasers as trustworthy defenses,” Torres said. “I don’t trust close-in weapon system bullets.”
“The close-in weapon systems may surprise you with their accuracy, and they have twice the range of your lasers,” Renard said. “I recommend using them at the cost of only several dozen tungsten bullets. If the Chinese task force commander wishes to test your defenses, then let us see how they stand up.”
“So be it, Renard,” Torres said. “But this time, I will lower the weapons subsection. Preserving the railguns is worth the concession of letting the task force commander know that he can temporarily silence them with his first anti-air missile.”
The overhead icon-based view of the landmasses receded to the corner of the front wall’s screen, as a night vision image of the railgun module from the beached landing craft took focus. With impressive speed, the twin railguns and the upper meters of concrete armor descended into the sealed obelisk. Exposed, the close-in weapon systems and laser weapons remained outside the armor.
Ninety seconds passed, and the supersonic missile reached the module’s defensive perimeter. As Renard watched the concrete bunker assume its full armored posture, the Gatling guns of the close-in weapon system belched rapid flashes of gunpowder. Seconds later, he assumed that the lasers joined in the defense with their invisible bursts of weaponized light.
“The inbound missile is destroyed,” the mid-grade officer said.
“Which weapon system destroyed it?” Torres asked.
“They’re not sure, sir. It happened so fast.”
“You may want to have weapons and sensor logs analyzed,” Renard said. “You’ll want to know which systems are effective against the anti-ship missiles. Given the complexity of this engagement, you’ll need all the tactical knowledge you can acquire.”
CHAPTER 15
Commander Wong leaned into a console and glared at the tactical display. The first railgun strike had punched linear holes from the deck of the Chengdu’s forecastle, through berthing areas, and into the sea. His crew, which stood by at battle stations to combat fires and flooding, shored the small hole in the bilge and reduced the first shell’s cut to a meaningless scratch.