Undetected (40 page)

“It turned out to be a weak burst. First reflections might show up in the narrow wavelengths in a couple of hours, but the best we can hope for is the beginnings of a fuzzy picture in about 12 hours.”

Captain Strong, pacing the room as he monitored the screens, paused to join the conversation. “That will still be helpful, Gina. I need to know how many subs China deployed,
Japan, what South Korea is doing. How the boats are deployed tells me a lot about the difference between rhetoric simply for political purposes and true military intent.”

“I hope it does help, sir.”

“I'll take whatever I can get. What are the odds of another solar flare this month?”

“Reasonable, sir. A series of weak flares often indicate a stronger one is building.”

Gina looked at the ocean maps. “Any change with North Korea, sir?”

“They've moved long-range missiles to the launch area on the East Coast, but they haven't fueled them yet. So far it's just been the usual rhetoric—Armageddon-level destruction of the South Korean capital, Seoul, a fire from above raining down on Japan—nothing particularly new about the bellicose threats. But with China annoyed, there may be less restraint applied to keep North Korea from overstepping a redline.”

“Do you anticipate trouble?”

Strong smiled. “The only thing this job anticipates is trouble.” He took the message traffic the duty officer brought over, scanned it, then glanced back at her. “Let me know if there's anything you need, Gina. I can use that photo.”

“I will, sir.”

He headed over to the communications desk.

“Do you think this escalates, Daniel?”

Her friend shrugged. “China and Japan have been heading toward a collision for over a decade, but I doubt either side particularly wants a confrontation right now. The question is, what does that mutual defense agreement trigger? South Korea joining up with Japan in defending the islands in dispute? I personally think the moral claim, the legal claim,
of ownership is with Japan, but China obviously disagrees. Settling that dispute via the military is a bad outcome the U.S. would like to avoid.”

“Hence the
Seawolf
sitting there like a referee to watch both sides.”

“Yes. Your brother is good at his job. He can handle the assignment. And the
Ohio
and the
Michigan
are near enough for support without it appearing like we are deliberately trying to get involved in this shoving contest.”

She knew Jeff and the
Seawolf
were well trained and prepared, but she still felt apprehensive when she looked at what was going on in the waters around them. The world didn't feel peaceful tonight, even though no one was shooting.

Gina looked at the large blue box farther out in the Pacific, which she suspected defined the area her husband had drawn for this strategic patrol. The
Nevada
was on her own in deep waters, for now safe—if anything that carried 24 Trident missiles and a nuclear reactor aboard could be considered safe. She wanted the men in her life back onshore without incident. A photo would help that at the margins. “I'm going to go get set up for processing that photo.”

“Like some help?”

“I'd rather you keep an eye on the board and come find me if anything major changes.”

Daniel nodded. “I can do that.”

Bishop scanned the latest news bulletin. “XO, make our depth 250 feet. I want to hear commercial radio out of Japan.”

“Make our depth 250 feet, aye, Captain.”

Their patrol box was designed to keep the
Nevada
a safe
distance from any adversary while also allowing minimum flight time for the missiles to reach the most likely targets. This patrol, their area was splitting the difference between defending Japan and South Korea. The tone of the news bulletins had changed over the last five days, and things were growing more tense topside.

Bishop could feel the sweat sliding down his back, even though the boat was kept at a cool 68 degrees. He stopped by the navigation table to check their position before moving forward to the sonar room. “Where's the
Seawolf
?”

“Here, sir.” The contact was faint, visible only because they were at the southwest tip of their patrol sweep. Tactical Command was keeping a fast-attack between the two sides. It was a gutsy move if it worked, and horrifying to consider if it didn't.

“He's stationary?”

“The most I'm hearing is an occasional turn. He's holding station.”

Bishop stepped back to command-and-control. “Conn, bring us to bearing 020.”

“Bearing 020, aye, Captain.”

They would lose the
Seawolf
as they headed to the other end of their patrol box, but it couldn't be helped. They normally ran solo while on a strategic deterrent patrol. But on this deployment he hoped to see one of the missile submarines converted to carry Tomahawks—either the USS
Ohio
or the USS
Michigan
—patrolling the Pacific nearby so he could link up and use cross-sonar to gain a deeper look at the waters around the
Nevada
. Tense times in the news meant militaries got more aggressive. He wouldn't put it past China to have a number of subs out searching for a U.S. boomer on Pacific
patrol just for a show of presence, to remind them that China considered this half of the ocean theirs. Bishop wished he had one of Gina's photos on the screen in front of him right now so he could see everything going on.

They were due to move up to hard-alert status in 48 hours, taking over from the USS
Henry
 M. Jackson
as the lead boomer for the northern watch. He looked at his watch, walked over to the drill instructor. “Show me the last missile test times,” he said. The boat felt ready, drills had been running smoothly, but he'd run another one if they could still improve execution times.

Gina counted 38 submarines in the waters stretching from South Korea down to Taiwan. Rear Admiral Hardman stood beside her, watching the photo develop. “An incredible sight, Gina, and very useful.”

“Thank you, sir. Another four hours, I may have enough resolution to tell you sub type, and from that, nation of origin. It was a weak flare, and it's taking some time to get enough reflections.” She'd been baby-sitting the data streams since the day before, watching the reflections slowly accumulate.

“China, Japan, South Korea—you don't want them playing in the same sandbox when one of them is mad. Find me when you have the detailed data. It's the South Korean subs that have me most concerned. They're farther south than they normally travel.”

“I will, sir.”

“Captain Strong, has the
Michigan
reached the patrol box yet?” Hardman asked.

“Twenty minutes, sir.”

“Send an informational EAM to the
Nevada
and let her know that
Michigan
's coming. I want them to link up and start a cross-sonar quiet search focused on the waters south of Japan just as soon as it's feasible. Find me that South Korea sub that should be docked in Japan and isn't.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Control, sonar. New contact bearing 078. It's the USS
Michigan
, sir.”

“Very well,” Bishop replied. He moved to scan the navigation table. “Conn, come to heading 090, make our depth 400 feet.”

The order was repeated and executed. They had the towed array deployed. They could run a parallel track about 15 miles apart, cross-link sonar, and get their first good look at what was out there to their west. If they were fortunate, the range would give them visibility as far as the
Seawolf
.

“Sonar, control. Cross-link sonar with the
Michigan
as soon as we are in range, then run a cross-sonar ping focused on the last known position of the
Seawolf
.”

“Control, sonar. Cross-sonar on the first opportunity, then ping, aye, Captain.”

The
Michigan
was a ballistic missile submarine of the same class as the
Nevada
, but the
Michigan
had been converted to carry Tomahawk missiles rather than Trident II D-5s. If a land war broke out, the
Michigan
would bring conventionally armed missiles to the fight. A submarine could fire the first missiles of an engagement without warning, while an air force bomber could be seen leaving base or be picked up
on radar. The early shots tended to go to submarines. The
Michigan
had been in battle several times over the years. If a skirmish started, they would need to be prepared to disengage and separate quickly since the fired missile would give away the submarine location. But for now, the
Michigan
was welcome company.

Bishop watched on the navigation table as the distance closed between the two subs.

“Control, sonar. I have a cross-sonar link with the
Michigan
, sir. Beginning cross-sonar with an active ping now.”

“Very well. Report all new contacts.” Bishop deliberately made himself relax. The sweep would give him a very good sense if the
Nevada
was still sailing in clear waters or if they had unwelcome company.

“Control, sonar. Clear waters, sir, out 200 miles. We have reacquired the USS
Seawolf
, same location. Reading six distinct contacts in his vicinity, surface and submerged. Working to identify now, sir.”

“Very well.”

Jeff's
Seawolf
had been holding station over the seamounts south of Japan for the last several days. He could hide in and among the seamounts, rise toward the surface and show the boat on radar, be a quietly watchful presence to keep both sides honest. One side couldn't fire a shot and then claim self-defense with the
Seawolf
recording what occurred, able to prove who started the fight. It was a kind of brute-force diplomacy, the presence of the U.S. fast-attack keeping the peace. Bishop quietly said a prayer for his friend and new brother-in-law, then turned his attention back to the
Michigan
.

“Sonar, control. Start a cross-sonar quiet search. I'm curi
ous if we can pick up anything north of Japan. In particular, what's South Korea doing?”

“Control, sonar. Starting a quiet search, aye, Captain.”