Undetected (42 page)

“Too many for tonight,” Daniel replied, pushing to his feet.
“They supposedly don't have them miniaturized enough to put on a missile payload, but I don't know who in Japan will want to trust the accuracy of that intelligence-community guess. I'll tell Hardman and Strong a hot flare is coming. They'll want that picture—need that picture, Gina. Subs are often the first movers in a fight. If Japan acts, we'll see them putting to sea.”

“I've got a knot in my stomach that says 60 hours from now is going to be too late to be useful.”

Daniel squeezed her shoulder. “We'll take what we can get.”

She nodded as she watched the video replay. It was going to be a long night.

S
onar, control. Report all contacts,” Bishop requested as the time moved to the bottom of the hour.

“Control, sonar. Two surface vessels 50 miles out, bearing 039, USS
Michigan
, starboard side pacing us, distance 12 miles. Cross-sonar shows heavy activity to the west. The USS
Seawolf
is in and out of radar at bearing 260—appears to be moving among the seamounts. Three distant contacts identified as Japanese Oyashio class submarines along bearing 210. Two distant contacts identified as Chinese Yuan class submarines along bearing 193. Numerous surface contacts along—”

An alarm interrupted the report, and the EAM box began to flash amber. They heard Emergency Action Message traffic for every boomer at sea, not just the
Nevada
. Bishop watched the flashing light on the box mounted at eye level near the periscope and waited for the radio room's call.

“EAM traffic for the
Nevada
, sir, requiring authentication.”

The XO immediately reached for the intercom. “Alert one. Alert one.”

Bishop snapped an order while heading toward the radio
room. “XO, separate us from the
Michigan
, all speed. Make your heading 140.”

“Heading 140, all speed, aye, Captain.”

There were 15 officers aboard the boat, 5 of them currently on watch. The first two officers to reach the radio shack would begin decoding the encrypted message while the others moved to backfill roles.

The navigation officer and the weapons chief headed through the radio room connecting door to the adjoining operations control room. The captain often slept in the small room off the radio room during wartime so that messages could be passed to him as they arrived. For now, the bunk was a place to spread out top-secret code books. The radio room operators had some of the highest security clearances on the boat.

Bishop opened the room's safe, then used the commander's key to open the gray box.

“Captain, the authentication number is 24593,” the weapons chief reported.

“I concur, sir, the number is 24593,” the navigation officer repeated.

Bishop pulled the foil-wrapped package number matching 24593. Kingman joined him, and Bishop handed it to him. Kingman tore it open and pulled out the card. Bishop watched as his XO and the weapons chief worked through the long sequence of numbers and letters.

“We have an authentic message from Strategic Command,” Kingman reported briskly.

“I concur, sir,” the weapons chief said.

“Very well. Decrypt the message.” EAMs arrived with the message scrambled into four-letter block groups.

The XO flipped through the orange-covered top-secret
binder to the corresponding four-letter code leading the first message text block and entered
Nevada
's decryption key. The message descrambled on the screen, and the printer behind them activated.

Bishop read the orders, pulled the printout, and checked the authentication code against the card as a final verification. Bishop had hoped to never read this message without a three-peat of the word
DRILL
beginning and ending the message.

“We are in agreement it is an authentic message, decoded correctly?” Bishop asked once all four officers had reviewed the text and the authentication card match. The boat didn't act on an EAM action order unless four officers aboard—the captain and the XO, plus the two working on the message—concurred on the decrypted message contents and authenticity.

“I concur, sir,” each man in turn said.

“Weapons, enable the missile system.”

“Enable the missile system, aye, sir,” the officer replied. The weapons chief headed down a level to the missile control room where he alone had the safe combination and within it the key to enable the
Nevada
's missile system.

Bishop looked over at his XO, then at his officers. “I want care, gentleman, nothing rushed, with an eye to every detail. Take your stations.”

Bishop returned to command-and-control, reached for the intercom and turned the setting to 1MC. “
Nevada
, this is the captain. We have authenticated EAM traffic. Prepare to launch. This is not a drill.”

The light on the commander's panel turned green, showing the missile system aboard the USS
Nevada
was now engaged.

“Weapons, load the launch package, Nevada Echo Charlie 792 on missiles 9 and 16.”

The weapons officer read back the launch package code, confirming the order.

“Reading launch package Nevada Echo Charlie 792 on missiles 9 and 16,” the XO confirmed from his station as the guidance systems on the missiles began feeding back flight information.

“Very well.”

While classified above Top Secret, the launch packages did have a method to them. Echo Charlie was North Korea. The North Korean capital, Pyongyang, the nuclear reactor at Yongbyon, the weapons facility at Kanggyesi, underground nuclear storage and development labs—which of these locations would be hit, from one of them to all, would be determined by the fire order when it came.

Bishop's hands felt cold. If EAM traffic came in with the safe combination for the missile trigger, he would feel the full weight of this command.

They were only two EAM messages away from a missile launch, a captain's message signaling the U.S. National Command had moved to DEFCON 1, a war footing, and a fire order from the president.

That fire order would come in four parts. A numbered listing of which locations in the launch package to strike, the time window for the
Nevada
to launch the missiles—coordination necessary so that the warheads didn't explode while U.S. Air Force bombers were within the target range—along with the combination for the safe aboard the
Nevada
holding the firing trigger, and a final authentication code direct from the president.

After the arrival of the fire order message, it would take the
Nevada
roughly 12 minutes to be ready to put missiles in
the air. They would authenticate the message, come to launch depth, set launch pressure on missiles 9 and 16, and then fire the missiles within the specified launch time window. It would be the longest dozen minutes of Bishop's life.

“Sonar, control. Where's the
Michigan
?”

“Control, sonar. Separating rapidly, bearing 310, 32 miles.”

Bishop looked to his second-in-command, read the contained tension he too was feeling. His question about how Kingman would handle command was going to be resolved by the end of this patrol. He trusted Kingman to be his second tonight, helping double-check every detail and order. “XO, make a visual inspection of the missile system to confirm our control board readings,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir.” His XO moved into the heart of the sub.

“Radio, control. Who else received directed EAM traffic in the last 20 minutes?” The messages might be encrypted, but the destinations told him a great deal.

“
Michigan
,
Ohio
,
Kentucky
,
Henry Jackson
, and the
Seawolf
, sir.”

“Very well.” That list told him the
Michigan
would also likely be sitting with missiles hot right now, prepared to fire. If a fire order came, he hoped it would be for conventionally armed Tomahawks rather than Trident II D-5s. He wanted to know what had just happened in the world to trigger this. Strategic Command would inform him soon.

He waited. And he hoped this order was only a precaution.

A warble alarm sounded in the command-and-control center. The EAM's amber light began to flash.

“Informational EAM, sir, for the
Nevada
, captain's eyes only.”

“Very well.” Bishop went to the radio room and accepted the printed message, stepped into the operations room, found the four-letter code block and the
Nevada
's decryption key, entered it into the system along with his captain's code. The printer came to life behind him. He tore off the message and took it with him into the command-and-control center, reading as he went.

North Korea fired a missile, which hit in the Sea of Japan. Attempt to intercept the missile by U.S. only partially successful. Explosive warhead aboard. Believed at this time to be conventional. North Korea has second missile at launch site fueled. Launch deemed likely, but may not be imminent.

Bishop now had the reason for the launch-package order. Had that explosive payload been nuclear, the U.S. would already be laying down ordnance across the launch site and all nuclear facilities in North Korea, and the U.S. president would be in the Situation Room, deciding if a nuclear strike was required to take out North Korea's underground nuclear storage facilities believed to house its developed warheads. If their commander in chief gave the order, the
Nevada
was going to be on the receiving end of a fire order EAM. If it stayed with a conventional response,
Michigan
would get the fire order for her Tomahawks.

What Japan did in retaliation, what China might choose to do to influence North Korea . . . the situation was both volatile and unpredictable. Japan could hit North Korea back herself, or Japan could prevail on the U.S. to respond on her behalf. But the one thing Bishop knew about nations mov
ing toward war, this wasn't going to unfold based on some rational plan, but as a series of provocations and responses based on the information at hand, whether complete or not.

Bishop passed the EAM message to his XO. Kingman read it, then quietly asked, “Do you still think the torpedo fired at the
Seawolf
was an accident?”

“I think it's China trying to provoke the other side into firing first. They rattled a South Korean submarine captain into making a mistake by firing on a U.S. sub. Now they're using North Korea to stir the pot and get a response from Japan.”

“China wants the islands and the gas field as their price for exerting influence on North Korea not to fire another missile.”

“That would be my read of it,” Bishop replied. “It's going to be an interesting few days while that missile sits on a North Korea launcher, fueled and ready to fly. Our intercept missile didn't score a direct hit on the first one. That's going to rattle the nerves even more.”

“Does Japan back down? Concede the islands under dispute?”

“There are a lot of islands that are basically two rocks and a seal sunning itself,” Bishop said. “Japan can't afford to set a precedent by surrendering on this dispute, but neither does it want to lose men and treasure defending rocks in the ocean. It's the gas field that is the real territorial fight, and it extends into international waters. They both want to develop the field. The U.S. has a hard call to make: fire a Tomahawk and take out the North Korea missile at its launch site, and by doing so enter the conflict, or continue to try to monitor and influence what unfolds, try to keep the two sides from a collision without directly stepping in.”

“We can hold ready for launch for days. The crew is solid.”

Bishop nodded his agreement. “That second missile is North Korea's leverage and their threat—what payload is on it, what it might hit. I think they're going to use it for maximum advantage. The odds are good they wait a day or two. They'll want the public outcry from the first missile to sink in first. They fire number two when they perceive it's to their advantage.”

Bishop picked up the phone. “Sonar, control. Report all contacts.”

“Control, sonar. Clear waters within our own sonar range. Surface ship traffic is now off scope to the east, the USS
Michigan
off scope to our north.”

“Very well.”

He considered where he needed the boat for the next two watches. He looked at the navigation map. “Navigation, put us in a diamond pattern for the next 12 hours, 3 hours per leg, squared off to the patrol box center.”

“Yes, sir.” The navigation chief traced in the plan and ran a vector. “Recommend
Nevada
turn to bearing 210 degrees.”

“Conn, make your bearing 210 degrees, depth 600 feet.”

The conn officer repeated the order and passed it on to the helmsman and planesman.

The problem with a boat waiting with her missile system engaged and a launch package loaded was the adrenaline every sailor aboard felt. Managing his crew was going to be as critical as managing the boat. Bishop picked up the intercom. “
Nevada
, this is the captain. If you are not on watch, find a bunk and get some sleep. That's an order.”

He placed his hand on the shoulder of the man watching over the
Nevada
's internal systems. “Lieutenant, set all audio channels to my personal playlist for the next hour.”

The man smiled, the first seen in the command-and-control center in the last hour. “Yes, sir.”