Empire Rising (11 page)

“On the naval front,” General Hodson added, “China has sortied seventy-two surface combatants and fifty-eight submarines to sea, with several hundred landing craft ferrying troops across the Strait. In response, we have five carrier strike groups at our disposal in the Pacific—
George Washington
based in Japan, the
Nimitz
Strike Group currently eight hundred miles east of Taiwan, with the LANT carrier
Lincoln
in the Persian Gulf.
Vinson
and
Stennis
are departing from their homeports of San Diego and Bremerton. Additionally, every available submarine in the Pacific is heading toward Taiwan.”

Hodson handed the remote control to the Marine Corps four-star General to his left. “General Ely Williams will discuss our amphibious response.”

General Williams pointed the remote at the back wall, and the monitor shifted to a map of the Pacific Ocean. “We have two Marine Expeditionary Forces in the Pacific, ONE MEF based in California and THREE MEF in Okinawa. THREE MEF is loading aboard their amphibious assault ships and should be underway by tonight. ONE MEF will be headed across the Pacific by tomorrow.”

Williams pressed the remote again, and the display zoomed in on the island of Taiwan. “To avoid significant losses to our MEFs as they land, it's imperative the Republic of China retain control of at least one beachhead.” Eight beachheads on the eastern side of the island illuminated in green. “To ensure Taiwan holds out long enough, we need to provide air support, slowing the Chinese advance. We also need to clear Chinese submarines from the approach lanes to the beachheads. Admiral Grant Healey is responsible for both of those efforts.”

General Williams handed the remote to the four-star Admiral seated next to him, who zoomed the display back out to the entire Pacific Ocean. Another click and red and blue icons appeared, with Chinese units indicated in red and American naval forces represented by blue.

“Our initial goal is to provide air support to ROC ground forces,” Admiral Healey began, “and we'll do that with Air Force fighter jets from Kadena Air Base on Okinawa, plus the
Nimitz
and
George Washington
Carrier Strike Groups operating east of Taiwan. Unfortunately, that places both carriers within range of the Chinese DF-21 ballistic missile, which can disable an aircraft carrier with a single hit. To protect our carriers against the DF-21, Admiral Vance Garbin at Pacific Command has decided to wait until the
Nimitz
Strike Group joins
George Washington
, so we have enough Aegis cruisers and destroyers, with their SM-3 missiles, to provide an adequate ballistic missile defense. Of course, their success will depend on the density of the incoming missile barrage.

“As far as submarines go,” Admiral Healey continued, “we have thirty-two fast attacks in the Pacific, but with two in deep maintenance and another three sunk, that leaves us with twenty-seven fast attacks to counter fifty-eight Chinese submarines. The first three fast attacks—
Texas,
which was already on her way to the Persian Gulf, plus two more submarines surging from Guam, will support
George Washington
and
Nimitz
, with the remaining submarines arriving with the other three carrier strike groups. Our submarines will clear a path to Taiwan for the Marine Expeditionary Forces while the carriers provide air cover—and once the MEFs have landed, our strike groups will sweep inside the Strait, cutting off supplies streaming across from the mainland. Without resupply, it will be only a matter of time before the Chinese ground forces are defeated.”

There was a long silence as the president considered the military's plans. Before he spoke, Captain Brackman broke in. “Sir, there's one wild card in play.”

The president looked down the table toward Brackman. “What's that?”

“Christine was detained after a meeting with President Xiang, but escaped to a CIA safe house in Beijing with the assistance of a CIA agent in the Central Guard Bureau's Cadre Department. In the process, the CIA agent gave her a flash drive we hope contains information about China's military offensive. We haven't been able to access the information on the drive, so we're going to transport it out of Beijing to a facility with the ability to extract the information. We're hoping we can use that information to our advantage.”

The president said nothing for a moment, reflecting on the detainment and subsequent escape of his national security advisor. “How are we going to get Christine out and obtain the flash drive?”

“One of our guided missile submarines,
Michigan,
is on its way to Taiwan. She'll insert a SEAL team into the coastal city of Tianjin while the CIA escorts Christine to the port, where she'll meet the SEAL team and be brought aboard
Michigan
. Hopefully, we'll be able to extract the data from the flash drive using the submarine's onboard systems. If not,
Michigan
will launch one of her UAVs with the flash drive aboard.”

Brackman fell silent and the men around the table waited for additional questions from the president. After none were forthcoming, SecDef Jennings spoke, his voice subdued. “Mr. President. Request permission to engage the People's Republic of China.”

As Jennings waited for the president's response, the only sound in the Situation Room was the faint whisper of cold air blowing from the ventilation ducts above. On the wall across from the president, the display flickered silently.

Finally, the president gave the order. “Engage the People's Republic of China with all conventional forces at our disposal.”

 

GAMBIT ACCEPTED

 

15

USS
MICHIGAN

Five hundred feet beneath the ocean's surface, Captain Murray Wilson felt the vibration through the submarine's deck as he leaned over the Navigation Table in Control, examining the ship's progress toward their new operating area. The main engines were straining, pushing the eighteen-thousand-ton submarine forward at ahead flank speed, through the Luzon Strait into the Philippine Sea. During their transit, Wilson had slowed every twelve hours to proceed to periscope depth to check the broadcast for new messages. No new orders had been received, expounding on their original, ambiguous
proceed to designated operating area
.

Wilson checked the clock in Control. It was midnight and Section 2 had just relieved the watch. The watchstanders were settling into their routine in the chilly Control Room, and the Fire Control Technician was wearing a green foul weather jacket to keep warm. A few years earlier, his face would have been illuminated by the green combat control display, the hue of his features matching the color of his jacket. Tonight however, a myriad of colors played off his face.

Although
Michigan
was a Trident submarine, it was a far different ship today than when it was launched over thirty years ago. When the START II treaty went into effect, reducing the allowable number of ballistic missile submarines from eighteen to fourteen, the Navy decided to reconfigure the four oldest Ohio class submarines as special warfare platforms, replacing the
Kamehameha
and
James K. Polk,
which were approaching the end of their service life. Even better, in addition to carrying Dry Deck Shelters with SEAL mini-subs inside,
Michigan
and the other three SSGNs could be configured with seven Tomahawk missiles in twenty-two of the submarine's twenty-four missile tubes. Only seventeen of the tubes held Tomahawk missiles on this deployment, however. The two Dry Deck Shelters covered four of the twenty-two tubes, with Unmanned Aerial Vehicles in another.

During the conversion from SSBN to SSGN,
Michigan
and her three sister ships received a slew of other modifications. The combat control consoles were now the most modern in the submarine fleet, as were
Michigan
's new Sonar, Electronic Surveillance, and Radio suites.
Michigan
's old legacy combat control system—green screens, as the crew called them—had been replaced with the advanced BYG-1 Combat Control System, the dual multicolor screens on each console reflecting off the operator's face.

Wilson turned his attention to the electronic navigation chart and Petty Officer Second Class Bill Coates, on watch as Quartermaster. The young Electronics Technician was busy analyzing the ship's two inertial navigators for error.

“How're we doing, Coates?”

The petty officer looked up. “Good, sir. Both inertial navigators are tracking together.” Coates reviewed the ship's projected position as
Michigan
continued its northeast advance. “Will we be staying at ahead flank the entire way, sir?”

Wilson nodded. “That's the plan, except for excursions to periscope depth. How long until we reach our operating area?”

Coates mentally converted the distance to their destination into time based on the submarine's ahead flank speed.

“Ten hours, sir.”

The lighting in Control shifted to Gray, catching Wilson's attention. The watch section was preparing to proceed to periscope depth, and the Officer of the Deck's eyes would need time to adjust to the darkness above. The Officer of the Deck, Lieutenant Kris Herndon—one of three female officers aboard—was standing on the Conn between the two periscopes. She called out an order to the Helm, and
Michigan
began to slow and swing to starboard, checking its sonar baffles for contacts behind them. A few minutes later, the lighting was extinguished, drowning Control in darkness aside from the glow of red, green, and blue indicators on the submarine's Ballast Control and Ship Control Panels. Another order from the Officer of the Deck, and
Michigan
returned to base course.

Lieutenant Herndon stopped next to Captain Wilson. “Sir, the ship is on course zero-two-zero, speed ten knots, depth two hundred feet. Sonar holds three contacts, designated Merchant, all far-range contacts. Request permission to proceed to periscope depth to copy the broadcast and obtain a navigation fix.”

“Proceed to periscope depth.”

*   *   *

The ascent to periscope depth was uneventful, and
Michigan
was soon tilted downward, returning to the ocean depths. After the lighting returned to Gray, then White, a Radioman entered Control, message clipboard in hand, stopping by Captain Wilson.

“New orders, sir.”

Wilson flipped through the message, reading the pertinent details.
Michigan
's Tomahawks were being held in reserve. It looked like her SEAL detachment would get a workout instead.

 

16

BEIJING

Twilight was creeping across the city beneath a blanket of dark gray clouds as Christine exited the CIA safe house, stepping onto a sparsely populated sidewalk. A cold wind whipped down the narrow street as she moved toward a blue sedan containing a driver and a single passenger in the back. A third man held the rear door of the car open, and Christine slid into the sedan. Although she had never seen the driver before, she instantly recognized the man seated next to her.

Peng Yaoting had grabbed her from behind in the courtyard three days ago, leading her to the rear entrance of the CIA safe house. Peng explained he'd been notified of her impending arrival, intervening just in time. Once safely inside the CIA town house, Christine had offered Peng the flash drive, but the data couldn't be extracted—it was a secure flash drive, which required a password. More sophisticated equipment would be required to extract the data. That, of course, was why she was on her way to the port city of Tianjin with the flash drive in her pants. Her assignment as the courier pigeon would kill two birds with one stone.

Peng nodded to the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror and the car eased into traffic. Peng said nothing during the short trip to the Beijing South Railway Station. Christine knew the basic plan: a high speed bullet train to Tianjin, where she'd be picked up at the station and taken to the port, where an awaiting SEAL team would take her to a submarine loitering off the coast. They hadn't explained how she would get from the port to the submarine, but the fact they had encased her flash drive in a waterproof pouch told Christine the transit from Beijing to the submarine wasn't as straightforward as they made it seem. Especially in light of the checkpoints that had been set up to capture her if she attempted to escape Beijing.

Every transit system was being monitored. Cars were being stopped along every road leading out of the city, and passengers were being examined at the airport and rail stations prior to boarding. Fortunately, there were no road checkpoints between the safe house and the rail station, but exactly how she was supposed to board the train without being detected was still unclear. Her disguise was not particularly effective.

Christine's hair had been dyed a lustrous black and makeup applied to add color to her skin. And although she wore a black scarf framing her face, one direct look into her blue eyes would give it all away. A pair of dark sunglasses offered superficial protection, and Peng had assured her a Caucasian woman wouldn't be an unusual sight at the rail station. Despite China's invasion of Taiwan, citizens and tourists had continued their daily business and sight-seeing, safe from the carnage offshore.

As the car turned left onto Kai Yang Lu Street, Christine examined the Beijing South Railway Station in the distance—an oval-shaped structure of steel and glass, larger than most international airports. It was the second largest railway station in Asia, covering the equivalent of twenty football fields. Peng had briefly described the five-story facility—three levels underground and two above—explaining it was the best exit point from Beijing due to the sheer number of patrons; over thirty thousand passengers boarded trains every hour from twenty-four platforms, with a waiting area capable of holding ten thousand. If there was ever a place she could get lost in a crowd, it was the Beijing South Railway Station.