The Harpoons’ terminal sea-skimming trajectory worked perfectly and the Chinese Ludas did not even know that the missiles were heading toward them. The missiles were flying so low that the Chinese destroyer’s “Eye Shield” and “Bean Sticks” radars — the NATO designation for the Russian-derived radars on board — did not even detect the oncoming missiles.
Cheyenne was still relatively close to the two destroyers when the sonar room report came in.
“Conn, sonar, we have two explosions, sixteen seconds apart, bearings 002 and 006… ”
Before the sentence was completed, the sonar supervisor revised his report, “Correction. We just got a third explosion. This one sounds like a secondary explosion, also bearing 002.” He paused, then added, “Conn, sonar, we’ve now got breaking-up noises on that same target, bearing 002. It’s a goner, sir.”
The Luda destroyer at bearing 002 was a scene of death and destruction. It had a complement of 280 sailors and officers. Within forty-five seconds of the Harpoon’s arrival, 180 of them were dead, killed in the fire and melting deluge of metal and fuel that had ignited following the impact. Over forty bodies were scattered around the warship, lifeless and bobbing in the water. Next to these dead sailors were live ones, floating on their backs, trying to adjust to the sudden, ferocious attack and doing anything in their power to stay above the water.
There were only fifty sailors who had managed to abandon the doomed Luda destroyer. The remaining sailors and crew of the sinking warship were trapped inside with no chance to escape. No matter how hard they struggled, they would die, either of smoke inhalation or the burning of the ship around them.
Quietly, and slowly, the Chinese destroyer sank beneath the waters of the Formosa Strait. The crew — those who lived and those who died — never even knew where the incoming missile had come from.
The destruction was not so complete on board the second Chinese Luda, but still the damage was enormous. The Harpoon’s 510-pound warhead had detonated at the aft end of the vessel, and the destroyer had lost nearly a quarter of its personnel.
When the Chinese naval commanders received word that both of these powerful Chinese warships had been hit, their immediate assessment was that a lightning strike of F/A-18s had taken part in these ships’ destruction. Worried that more American aircraft were operating in the area, the Chinese were afraid to send any aircraft to patrol the seas and, since they had already withdrawn their Akulas, they had no assets in the area capable of detecting Cheyenne.
Mack had no way of guessing at the Chinese naval commanders’ thinking, but when no enemy vessels showed up hunting Cheyenne, Mack secured from battle stations. Traveling at four knots, Cheyenne quietly slipped farther away from the area.
Mack and the officers of Cheyenne were amazed that here, as close to the Chinese shore as any American warship had ever ventured during this war, there were few operational enemy warships. Mack had had no run-ins with any targets that represented any type of threat to his submarine, and for the first time in a long time, everything was under control and working perfectly.
As Cheyenne neared the southern exit of the Formosa Strait, Mack realized that this delousing and reconnaissance operation had revealed the condition the Chinese navy was in. As soon as Mack passed back into the South China Sea, he brought Cheyenne to sixty feet and raised the communications mast.
Word was soon passed throughout the Navy that Cheyenne had completed her mission of delousing in the “perilous” strait. Warning also was sent concerning the moored minefield, along with the exact locations of the minefields, and the safe zones. Mack also made a point of sending word that Cheyenne and her crew had added three more kills, one Kilo submarine and two Luda destroyers, to their long list of successes.
As soon as the communications mast was lowered, Mack headed back to his stateroom to get some well-deserved rest. He had returned the conn to the OOD after ordering the navigator to set course for Tsoying Naval Base, Taiwan.
This mission had been very successful, but Mack couldn’t count on the next one going so well. He was looking forward to returning to the submarine tender McKee. This war was far from over, and he was sure that he was going to need all the weapons he could get.
13. Typhoon Hunt
The combat systems officer and engineer officer and their other division officers remained on board Cheyenne to take care of the weapons loading from McKee and reactor start-up preparations. Captain Mackey, along with his executive officer, operations officer, and navigator, proceeded to the headquarters of the Tsoying Naval Base for their pre-underway briefing. They weren’t sure why the briefing wasn’t in McKee’s war room where their previous briefings were held. Although the hospitality of the Taiwanese was fantastic, it was still hard to be sure whom they were talking to when the Chinese were just across the strait.
Upon entering the conference room on the second floor, the captain was happy to see that security personnel from the CTF 74 staff were conducting an electronic sweep of the room, hunting for listening devices. This had been standard practice when the foe was the Soviet Union and now it continued as standard practice no matter who the foe was or where the meeting room was.
After Cheyenne’s officers arrived, and before they could settle into their places, a couple of heavies preceded what appeared to be a distinguished Chinese gentleman. He was Chinese; he turned out to be President Jiang. The heavies were two of his bodyguards.
Mack wasn’t too sure about this. A war patrol briefing with the Chinese there?
Noting Mack’s concerned expression, President Jiang told him to rest easy. He had only wanted to meet the famous Cheyenne captain Bartholomew “Mack” Mackey, and to thank him for his feats of fortune on behalf of all his people on the mainland. In direct defiance of the renegade Li Peng, songs were being written about Cheyenne in nearly every province of his country, children walked to school chanting “Cheyenne, Cheyenne,” and Wyoming had become the main subject of United States geography lessons.
After an uncomfortable exchange of pleasantries, Jiang left as quickly as he had arrived. Mack, who had been taken completely by surprise, was pleased to see him go. Cheyenne’s commanding officer wasn’t much for Chinese politics.
His war was a different story; Cheyenne was following orders. It didn’t matter much who the enemy was since the Russians were supplying submarines to nearly every Third World country that could afford the bill. Mack and his officers had become intimately familiar with the Romeos, Kilos, Alfas, and Akulas by now.
When President Jiang left, the briefing began. The Chinese had heard of Jiang’s surfacing in Taiwan, so they spent some of their dwindling currency on the purchase of a Russian-built Typhoon-class SSBN. Apparently they couldn’t trust their own Xia SSBN to be much of an intimidation factor, what with numerous CSS-N-3 ballistic missile test-launch failures, so they took delivery of a North Fleet Typhoon that had already completed its under-ice transit and was nearing the South China Sea. The briefing officer also mentioned that the Typhoon probably had some North Fleet Akula II SSNs “riding shotgun.”