Overhead a whoosh sound flew by, he knew it must have been a shell or missile. Whoosh, another. Shit they’re here. Willis turned his head, he saw on their faces that they understood what was going on. All of them wore CAM cream, faces were set in grim determination. He shouted to his men.
“Ok Rangers, they’re here. Tell em if they want to cross this bridge you have a body bag they can climb into first.”
“BENSON, WHERE ARE TANGO’S one and two?”
“Sir, Tango one is eight miles west northwest and Tango two is nine miles northeast.”
“Ok that’s good,” Nathan thought for a few seconds. “Planesman ahead two thirds. We’ve got some ships up there. Let’s meet uncle Joe’s target navy.”
Nathan used submarine service terms, in their eyes the surface Navy were either skimmers or targets. The boat slid on through the deeps towards the Chinese task force.
“Sir we’ve passed by the two subsurface contacts. I don’t think we’ve been detected. The first ships are twelve miles away.”
Nathan walked over to the XO’s station. “Let’s pick our gung-ho skipper.”
“Benson. Get me whatever ship ID’s you can in the leading wave.” Benson took off his headset rubbed his ears and replaced it. He turned two dials on his screen. Nathan looked at the dripping oily paint like display and shook his head.
After several minutes Benson looked over. “Sir, I have two best candidates. A Jangkai II frigate and a Luyang III Destroyer. The Destroyer is ahead a little and half a mile closer to us.”
“Ok, he’ll do. Course to get in front of him?”
“Steer 020 degrees Sir.”
“Planesman, steer 020, Benson let me know when we’re in his way.” Several minutes later Benson had it. “That’s it sir we’re in his way, his range is 12 miles.”
“Let me know when he gets to 10 miles to go. Planesman, up bubble 15, trim fore and aft for ascent. Come to periscope depth.”
“Periscope depth Aye sir.” The boat’s deck tilted up towards the bow.
Nathan looked at Benson and waited.
“Range ten miles sir, he’s heading right for us.” Nathan touched controls on his screen.
“Ok, XO. All masts are raised.”
“Weaps, set sonar narrow beam setting. Make one ping at the Destroyer.”
“A ping sir?”
“One ping, now.”
The boat’s hull reverberated with the sound. “Ping.”
ABOARD CHENGDU MAY Hsin was on the port outside deck, returning from conducting a ship’s disciplinary hearing. She’d fined two men and assigned one to head cleaning duties for a week. It wasn’t her normal day, but she had to fit in while onboard. Suddenly two teams of sailors scurried toward the aft of the boat. A Helicopter crewman followed wearing his bone dome helmet with the oxygen feed hose hanging loose.
“What’s going on Lieutenant?”
“Enemy Sub sir.” He ran on. May heard the two Isotov turboshaft jet engines spool up and roar as she watched as a Kamov Ka-28 ASW Helicopter lifted away from the flight deck. Its noisy contra-rotating propellers were driven by the two engines developing 4,460 hp. The Kamov soon gained altitude and headed off to the south.
THE PERISCOPE PEERED above the waves, on his monitor Nathan saw the Kamov launched from the rear flight deck.
“That’s him. The Captain’s taken the bait.” He placed the aim reticule on the helicopter and selected, track. “Weaps, power up Vulture’s Stare.”
“Aye sir.” Nathan transferred his view screen to Weaps.
Huge banks of Lithium Ion batteries below decks were slaved in.
“On and ready setting full power, Vulture’s eye on track.”
“Call out his range.” The beam had taken out targets at 7 miles, Nathan knew the Yu-7 homing torpedo the Kamov carried had a range of 7.6 miles, he figured, no hoped they’d wait before release.
“Eight point five, miles. Eight point one, seven point eight, seven point four.” Come on, wait please thought Nathan, he felt his neck sweating. Come on. “Seven point three, seven point one, seven, six point eight.”
“Beam release,” barked Nathan.
“Beam release, beam tracking, tracking.” The helicopter lit up as if the devil himself held a flaming torch to it. The Kamov rolled and moved to the left. Smoke trails sprouted. Its windshield was unnaturally bright with the reflected energy, 150 Kw of power were focused on that small area, something had to go. The grey camouflage paint at the forward end of the aircraft fried off first, the crew were blinded, their optic nerves cauterised. Plastic fittings in the cabin melted, the windshield softened and buckled inwards. Electrical sparks flew from hot fittings on the rear bulkhead. A fire extinguisher burst and blew CO2 gas, filling the cockpit. The crew screamed in agony their eyes burned deep into their skull and uniforms melted into their chests. The fuel tanks erupted in a great fireball and the helicopter fell burning into the sea.
Nathan withdrew all masts down into the sail.
“Dive, dive, dive, flood forward one, trim for depth. Planesman come about and make your depth 1,200 feet. All ahead full.”
“Aye sir, south at 1200 feet, all ahead full.” Nathan leaned back away from the bow to stay upright.
“There you are Nikki, he took the lure and attacked us. They made a hostile move. We now have open season on the PLAN Fleet, and we didn’t get a fish running after us. Good idea. Well done, you cunning son of a…
Lt Commander Lemineux, report this action to COMSUBPAC.”
“Sir.”
Nathan knew it was a good and clever move, to put the blame in the enemy’s lap. But still, there was the PLAN fleet out there, and they were just one boat. Good as they were, it was a one-sided match. They needed more luck than they could reasonably expect. A lot more.
COMMANDER GEORGE “HOUND” Bassett, the ship’s CAG watched as the F/A18 Super Hornet was hooked to the steam catapult. A deck Petty Officer crouched down, he looked left and right to check all was clear and then looked to the aircraft. He saluted and dropped his arm decisively. The catapult flung tons of aircraft forward and off the flight deck. The Hornet’s engines pushed it skyward. The next F/A18 Hornet was pushed forward to catch the wire.
The Stennis was launching a medium strike group in the direction of the Straits of Taiwan. Their target. The PLAN fleet mounting an invasion of Taichung City.
Nick “Hole” Green applied pressure to the left rudder and the nose of the F/A-18 Hornet call sign Cocaine one came to the west, he looked out of both sides of the cockpit. He saw 31 Hornets out there, all running for the Straits on the far side of the Island.
“Looks mighty fine out there Thong.”
“Yeah, not seen this many birds out before.”
His rear seat Weapons officer Lily “Thong” Stripling, double checked her bird’s systems.
“Diamondbacks, your due a drink soon, we’re approaching your left side.” He looked and there in the distance were three KC-46 Pegasus tankers, no doubt they’d flown out from Guam. “Hole” flew over, lined up and caught the hose.
“Good connection Cocaine one. Here you go, it’s Miller time.”
The strike had been debated at length, the younger officers favoured a standoff strike.
This was dismissed by the experienced Gulf war pilots as Annapolis ass. Their view was just get in among them and shit em up. The mission tactics had been agreed.