Able Fire: The Next War - 2025 and Beyond

Chapter 19

Admiral Sun Wei regretted the loss of that single ship, but he was inwardly pleased that no further damage had been done. Yet now his situation was becoming precarious. By 09:15, when the attack ended, he found himself 220 miles from Karachi, leaving the Gulf of Oman behind as he began to enter the Arabian Sea. In the last two hours, steaming at 30 knots, he had been unable to close with the American ships, and he knew, instinctively, that they had been using their superior speed to stay just beyond the reach of his YJ-18’s.

Look what the simple advantage of five knots of speed can do, he mused. If I had that advantage, I would already have fired my missiles, but I simply cannot close on those carriers. It will be another 12 hours before my bombers are ready again, and out here, I am straining my fighter coverage. I am so close, just 305 miles away from those carriers, but strive as I might, we will never close that last 15 miles to fire our Eagle Strike missiles. In this fight, they are simply useless….

He turned, a solemn look on his face. “The Fleet will come about and assume a heading of 040 degrees northeast.”

He would wait for the bombers.

“Gentlemen,” said Captain Holmes, addressing the bridge officers. “About ten minutes ago, the Chinese fleet turned northeast. They tried to close on us, so we were happy to invite them to follow us out into the Arabian Sea, but they wouldn’t take that bait. So now we send in the next wave to get after them. This is going to be a low-observable strike, all F-35’s and with the GBU-53. It means the strike groups will need to get inside the HQ-9 SAM range to 60 miles before they can release, so there will be no Growlers up to let them know that anything is coming. No offense to our Growler team, but the minute you fart, the Chinese can smell it.”

That got a round of laughter, but then the Captain took a more serious tone.

“Gentlemen, this war was regrettable, and from any angle you want to look at it. China and the US have had increasingly strained relations for the last several years, but frankly, it didn’t have to be that way, or come to this. The move they made into the Ryukyus was the trigger point, but that isn’t what this is all about—not here. This fight is about sea control, and access and control over the oil that travels the sea lanes in this region. If they had left it to business, that would probably have taken care of itself, but when you get Qusay Hussein running across the border into Kuwait as he did, well, that dog won’t hunt. We couldn’t leave it at that, and we won’t.

“Now… The Chinese Navy, and to some extent that of Pakistan, wants to block access to the Persian Gulf, and as long as they do, then we’ll fight to clear the way. But understand one thing, this may not end here, no matter what the outcome, and the last thing we want is to make a long term enemy of the Chinese. There’s 1.5 Billion people in China, and we’re going to have to find a way to live with them in the years ahead. We need to do that, or we’ll have to come to this dance again in another five years. If we can find the peace somewhere in that equation, all the better, because it sure as hell is something to be preferred over this business. I don’t think the men and women on their ships out there want to be here flinging fire and steel at us any more than we do, but this is what’s in front of us.

“Now here’s the situation… Unless this conflict can move to a negotiated settlement, then we are going to have to put down that fleet out there, and make a land lubber out of Admiral Sun Wei. We’ve showed him he can’t hurt us, and now we have to show him that the inverse is not true. This next attack may not sink ships, but it’s going to pull SAM’s from under their decks like there was no tomorrow. When it concludes, I will expect Sun Wei’s fleet will be very vulnerable, at which point we get after them again. I want them bottled up in Karachi, and then we’re going to hammer that port with TacToms and put it out of the game.

“Enough said, as you were.”

The Panthers were going to have to put about 300 miles behind them before they got to their release points, but they had the range. The strike was all about stealth, and the F-35 had proven itself as perhaps the most stealthy aircraft the US had. It was very difficult to see on radar, especially from the forward aspect as the planes approached their targets.

“Firebright, this is Bertha. You are cleared to Angels 50. Over.”

It was time to gain altitude for the bomb release. The Chinese fleet was dead ahead, about 80 miles out, being watched over by an AEW plane put up by Pakistan, the Y-8F-400, known to them as the Karakoram Eagle. But it did not see those F-35’s as they climbed into the empty blue sky.

“Firebright, tally ho.”

It was time to dash on the target to gain speed for the release. Every bit of that would be imparted to those glide bombs, which were completely unpowered, and had to fall 60 miles to reach their targets. So the planes would supercruise as they reached altitude. At 10:28, the final order came.

“Firebright, Bertha, Cleared hot. Over.”

Seconds later, the weapons bays had released that deadly hail of 120 bombs, the love all spread out with about 8 bombs targeting each ship. One, the Eagle God, got 16 allocated, as it was suspected of being the flagship. The Panthers got in completely undetected, released, then turned and supercruised out of there.

As soon as that strike was detected, 12 J-20’s that had been on the way out to provide air cover all switched on their excellent AESA radars and moved forward to attack. They could see the F-35’s as they high tailed it away, but could not lock on. They could also see those metal clouds of GBU-53’s, so there would soon be plenty of targets for their PL-15’s.

Now Admiral Sun Wei looked over his shoulder and saw what was coming on radar. He knew exactly what it intended to do—weaken his SAM defense, for while these bombs were too small to threaten to sink a ship with one or two hits, they would still do serious damage to ship systems, and so they had to be killed. He still had the SAM’s, and he would use them, but deep down, he had the feeling that he would have been better off to simply stay in Karachi. The song here remained the same….

He watched as the vast cloud of white enveloped his fleet, until no ship could even see another in the big formation. His lethal arrows emerged from that cloud, hunted down the incoming bombs with their radars, and one by one, they killed each and every one. His ships had just over 300 HQ-9B’s before the attack. When it was concluded, they had 82 left, and the Admiral knew that it would not be easy to replace them in Karachi.

Defensively, we are still able to weather at least two strong attacks, he thought. But now comes the danger zone, when our long range defensive missiles begin to run low. Now we must return to home port to replenish. How many missiles will be waiting there for us? I was told to expect the trains to arrive on the 20th. Will there be enough for one more round of this stubborn duel? They have not hurt me, and I cannot hurt them, yet we wrestle with one another nonetheless.

That said, our very presence here is a victory on one level. We are a fleet in being, still a threat, but when the missile trains no longer come to Karachi, what then? We will become a paper tiger. That said, and for the moment, I still rule the Gulf of Oman. They have not been able to enter, and as long as I can keep them ay bay, I fulfill some strategic purpose here. I shield the southern coast of Iran, and access to the Persian Gulf that would expose them even further. We are still a viable force.

He wondered, does this set the template of what will happen later? Is this the shadow of the war that will eventually come to the South China Sea, the East China Sea? There we will be much stronger, and with all that remains of the air force behind us. We will resist, that is certain, and therefore this war is far from over. They have made gains, and yes, we have seen our shortcomings, but we are not defeated—not by a long road. It was then that a junior officer came to hand the Admiral the latest intelligence briefing.

It was news of Wu Jinlong….

Aboard Roosevelt, Captain James Simpson an order he did not expect, though it wasn’t all that surprising. He was to transfer existing ordnance to Independence, then move immediately to Salaha to replenish his carrier there. That was not uncommon when two carriers were on the beat, or when one was relieving another on regular rotations. It allowed a single carrier to stay operational, and also made it easier in port with only one big flattop to service at any one time.

So the order went down to begin emptying out the magazines of the most common ordnance used in battle, and vertical replenishment operations began, with the helicopters loading up and ferrying the ordnance over to Independence. Only select weapons would move. As Independence had zeroed out its allocation of the LRASM, they sent all 36 they had remaining, along with all 172 GBU-53’s, and 60 SLAM-ER’s. To these they added 50 AIM-12D’s, and that topped off the Independence on the most vital weapons to enable her to stand the watch while Roosevelt went home to Salaha.

Looking at the status of the escorts, Holmes noted that his CG-21 Class cruiser Portland had exhausted all its SAM’s, so it was a good idea to detach that ship and get it replenished in port. Simpson agreed to take on the impoverished cruiser with his strike Group, and he sent the Ticonderoga Class Vicksburg over to Holmes, which still had 66 ESSM’ under the hood. These changes made, the two ships winked at one another and parted company, with the Roosevelt breaking off to the west and Independence carrying on due east.

Now Captain Holmes had to decide whether to plan and mount another strike on the retreating Chinese ships before they could reach port. He and his XO Cooper were chewing the fat over that one.

“We’ve got ‘em on the run now sir. They won’t be weaker. Once they get into Karachi, they’ll rearm and come out like a tiger again.”

“That’s a good point, but at the moment, Roosevelt is 435 miles from Salaha. At 25 knots, they won’t get there until sunrise tomorrow, and then they’ll be all day replenishing on the 21st—maybe even into the 22nd before they can come out to fight again. Yes, if we throw now, we might get some hits, but how many? We just topped off the tank, but we still don’t have any SM-6 left, nor does Roosevelt.”

“We could break off and make a rendezvous with Asgard, sir.”

Cooper was referring to a replenishment and supply convoy out of Diego Garcia, which was the other big supply depot, 1600+ miles to the southeast. The US logistics chain was pulling ordnance and supplies from the west coast ports, and then moving them to Pearl Harbor. From there, some went to Japan, but the lion’s share was being sent to Darwin, and then a good chunk of that continued on to Diego Garcia. Other convoys reached Diego by moving from Atlantic ports around the Cape of Good Hope. After that, Convoy Asgard would sea ferry the ordnance north to Salaha, but as the USN had made underway replenishment a standard drill for the last several decades, it was possible for the Independence group to pick over the stores now on the water headed for Salaha, and get first dibs on the missiles they needed.

“ I think that will be the order,” said the Captain. “If Roosevelt was going to be with us, I’d attack, but as we’re standing the watch alone for the next two to three days, we’ll play it safe and gird ourselves for the next round. But we can’t sit out here and shadow box with these guys indefinitely. We’re going to have to land punches and hurt them soon.”

“We’ll get at them, sir,” said Cooper, always the optimist.

“Good enough,” said Holmes. “Any news on the Black Dragon?”

“New Jersey? She’s coming north, sir, and with the rest of what the British had at Singapore.”

“What about Grant and Sherman?”

“Grant is pretty beat up, sir. She’ll need a week or more at Mumbai, but Sherman is ready there.”

“Then let’s get Sherman out to sea. Order her to meet up with the New Jersey.”

“Will do, sir. Say, Captain… What was the story on that British F-35 that we took on a while back?”

“It went on its merry way days ago—ferried back to the Gulf of Aden.”

“But what was he doing out there, sir? Wasn’t he a thousand miles from his carrier?”

“That he was, and the man had quite a tale to tell. Says he was out on point with his flight and went forward to investigate some persistent radar contacts. Word from the British is that he then vanished from all their radar screens, and they went so far as to report him MIA. Then he just turns up again, hours later.”

“How do you figure it, sir? How could he be out there that long? He’d run out of fuel.”

“Well, this is where it gets strange, Mister Cooper, so keep this under your cap. This man, Campbell was his name, said he was only out of contact on the network about 20 minutes until he picked us up on radar and vectored our way.”

“Twenty minutes? Strange, sir. That doesn’t jive with what the Brits said.”

“Damn right, but that was the easy part. The man says he lost contact with all friendlies, but then his systems started picking up a lot of unknown contacts, and a good number were vectoring in on his position.”

“He never identified any of them, sir?”

“Nope. But it got real spooky. They were silently closing on his position, and from multiple compass headings.”

“Air contacts?”

“Yes, and surface contacts too.”

“But sir… We were out there, and had a Hawkeye up as usual. Those contacts they investigated were all ghosts—probably just radar bounce from the Chinese fleet, which was north of that position at the time. We saw nothing else at all.”

“That’s what we all thought, mister Cooper, but he says something took a pot shot at him. A surface contact put a missile out after him, and he had to evade. Right in the middle of that, he felt his plane shudder and thought he was hit, but then seconds later his whole screen lit up again, and he saw us out there. Said he was never so glad to see some friendlies in his life. The man was real spooked. You could see it in his face.”

Cooper took a deep breath. “I’ll keep that to myself, sir.”

Chapter 20

Admiral Sun Wei got some most unexpected orders as well, emerging from a heated discussion at the headquarters of the Chinese General Staff. Present were Zhen Bao, Chief of Naval Operations in the Littoral Seas, Zhang Wendan, the Chief of the General Staff, and Shen Jinlong, Commander in Chief of the Navy.

Zhang Wendan had consulted with the political leadership in Beijing to weigh their opinions and wishes in this matter, particularly that of the President. It was clear to all that the war was not going well. China had lost control of the Med, the West Atlantic, Red Sea, Gulf of Aden, and southern and central waters of the Indian Ocean. The Navy had neutralized Singapore, in effect pulling the cork out of the bottle where the Malacca Strait was concerned, but they had not yet been able to drink the wine. As midnight passed on the 19th and rolled over to January 20th, some very hard decisions were now to be taken.

“I am here to tell you both that the political leadership has lost faith in the Navy’s ability to prevail in the operations presently underway.”

That announcement was greeted with silence, and both the Admirals present knew that it had surely stemmed from the great setback suffered by Wu Jinlong in the Celebes Sea. There was nothing like the sinking of another aircraft carrier to turn heads and get the grumbling started in the civilian leadership. But it was more than that, it was the Party leadership, which had absolute authority concerning the conduct and progression of China’s war at that moment. So Zhang Wendan was merely there to dictate what had been decided, though he wished to hear the opinions of his Admirals, nonetheless.

“Operation Sea Eagle must now be deemed a failure,” said Zhang. “We were unable to destroy any of the three American Pacific island bases, and in fact, saw two of our valuable bases in the Philippines severely damaged, with significant losses to the valuable aircraft stationed there by the Air Force. Certainly the Party expected some losses… but not this. The sinking of Zhendong made this all the more difficult to swallow. Admiral Shen, given that Wu Jinlong has now seen two carriers lost under his leadership, the decision has been made to relieve him of command, effective immediately. Do you object”

“I have no objection,” said Shen Jinlong, knowing the decision had already been made by the General Staff.

“Good enough,” said Zhang. “Gentlemen, we must now take some hard decisions. First I must ask you if the Navy can recover from our fallen Sea Eagle and hold the South China Sea secure?”

“At the moment,” said Shen Jinlong, “we see no immediate threat to that region, which is not to say that one might not materialize in the days ahead. The Americans were able to defeat Operation Sea Eagle because of two things—their long range bombers at Guam, and the fact that they were able to shift a second Carrier Strike Group south to join their Enterprise group. It was the bombers that did the damage at Beiying,[6] not the American Navy. And it was the Siberians that sunk Zhendong, not the Americans. This must not be forgotten.”

“I am well aware of that,” said Zhang, “as is the Party leadership. That is why the decision was taken to turn matters over to the Army. The Siberians have been a thorn in our side, and they must be taught a lesson, once and for all. The Army is now fully mobilized, and we will now reopen hostilities on the Amur River line, as a direct reprisal for the continued Siberian hostility in the naval theater.”

“A wise decision,” said Shen Jinlong. “In spite of the Armistice. That regained most of the territory they seized in their offensive. If the Army can take it back again, all the better.”

“Yes? Well, that is not all. We have seen that while our client states and allies have been useful in peacetime in supporting our naval outreach programs, they are less so in wartime. Iran and Iraq started their Operation Desert Sword auspiciously, but we underestimated the resolve of the Europeans and Americans. That situation has now also suffered a severe reversal of fate, and as it is something the Navy cannot resolve, the matter there will also be turned over to the Army, and the Air Force. The following decisions have now been taken. 13th and 21st Armies have been moved by rail through Tajikistan and Turkmenistan to Iran. They will be deployed to secure and defend the major oil fields in Southern Iraq. I must ask you now to give me an estimate—how long will the Gulf of Oman and Persian Gulf remain under our control? And please be realistic.”

Shen Jinlong scratched an eyebrow. “That will depend on the outcome of the fighting underway there. The most recent engagement must be seen as a draw. Our losses were minimal, just one older frigate. Admiral Sun Wei is competent, and he has my every confidence. As long as he is supplied, with adequate ordnance and supporting aircraft, I believe he will hold for some time.”

“And if Karachi were to be attacked and destroyed—what then?”

“That would make things… difficult. You believe this will occur?”

“Pakistani aircraft have been participating in the fighting, have they not?”

“Only in supporting roles. They have inadequate range to serve in the strike role, given the American tactics.”

“Indeed,” said Zhang, “but as they have flown in support of our forces, and opened their bases to our bombers and fighters, that makes those same bases legitimate targets.”

“You have intelligence to relate on this matter?” asked Shen.

“ I do… The Americans are now transferring more of their long range strategic bombers to their base at Diego Garcia. If they are able to do to Karachi what they have just done to our bases in the Philippines… Well, you can understand the concern.”

Admiral Shen pursed his lips, but yes, he understood. Without Karachi, his fighting Admiral Sun Wei would lose his support base, and the loss of his entire fleet would surely follow. He sensed now that a tectonic shift was about to play out in the naval war, but waited to see what the Chief of Staff would say next. It was as he feared.

“Shen Jinlong, the General Staff wants you to withdraw the Indian Ocean fleet at once.”

“Withdraw? Abandon the Persian Gulf? Abandon our allies in Pakistan?”

“You expressed no concerns when we ordered our Mediterranean Squadrons to move to the Indian Ocean.”

“That was different,” said Shen. “We knew we could not operate there for long, well before the war. The plan was always to relocate those forces to the Indian Ocean theater.”

“And it was well executed. That said, while Admiral Sun Wei sunk many British ships, he seems unable to sink the American ships any more than Wu Jinlong could prevail in his operation. There were forty ships in our Indian Ocean Fleet a month ago. Now there are twenty. It is the opinion of the General Staff that the fleet is now overmatched, and because the outcome of the land war in Iraq will decide everything, the mission of that fleet is now diminished. Yes, Sun Wei controls the Gulf of Oman, and sits as a naval shield for both Pakistan and Iran, but not for long, particularly if Karachi is destroyed. I ask you—how long?”

“In that event, it would be a matter of weeks before those ships could no longer operate… Perhaps more like a matter of days.”

“Correct,” said Zhang, “and I appreciate your forthright assessment, as difficult as it may be. We must face facts now, not wishes. The General Staff does not believe that those twenty ships can prevail, any more than the twenty we gave to Wu Jinlong were able to succeed. So yes, the order to withdraw will be given. Sun Wei is to move south at once and attempt to reach Colombo as his next support base.”

“But the Americans spent all last week attacking Sri Lanka.”

“Indeed, but we will repair that damage, as we will also repair the damage to Beiying and Davao. They truth is this, the Army will now move to support Iran and Iraq, as I have said, and that cannot operate in an environment where they have no air cover. Therefore the Air Force assets presently covering the Indian Ocean Fleet will be transferred further west to bases in Iran. That fleet has been deemed a liability where it presently sits, and we believe a window of opportunity has opened to allow it to withdraw. The American carriers are replenishing, one at Salaha in southwest Oman, the other deep in the Indian Ocean in an underway replenishment operation.”

“Yes, I am aware of this. I’ve seen the intelligence,” said Shen.

“Of course. Then in this situation, Admiral Sun Wei must move south as quickly as possible.”

“General… it is 1500 nautical miles from Karachi to Colombo, and we have no friendly bases or supply ships anywhere along that route… Unless you will now tell me that India is joining our side in this war.”

“Not likely,” said Zhang Wendan. “In fact, the inverse may soon be true. All the more reason to get Sun Wei out of there while we may still have that chance. Can this be done?”

Shen Jinlong rubbed his forehead. “It will be very dangerous. He will have little air cover, and then no air cover as he gets further south, but if this is ordered, then it must be done quickly, while the Roosevelt Carrier Strike Group is replenishing at Salaha. That port is 1300 nautical miles from the coast of India, and Sun Wei must stay as far east as possible. It will mean he may have to face at least one US carrier, but not both—assuming he moves quickly. There is also a small American Task Force coming up from the south, and the British forces that abandoned Singapore.”

“So be it,” said Zhang. “You must give the order at once.”

Admiral Shen nodded gravely, but it was clear he was not happy. This was now going to cede control of the entire Indian Ocean to the enemy, and it was a matter of time before they controlled the Gulf of Oman, and the Persian Gulf. Zhang Wendan saw the look of distress and disappointment on his face, and spoke again.

“Admiral,” he said quietly. “You have fought well, and without adequate support. That was our fault. Take no shame in this. It is a strategic decision taken by the Party itself. The matter comes down to this: if the Army cannot prevail in Iraq, then our fleet in the Indian Ocean is only a target, and it will surely be lost. Yes, it could hold stubbornly in the Gulf of Oman, holding sea lanes that will never be traveled by tankers from Iraq if we lose that fight, and it could only hold a short time. So we want it home. Our losses have been heavy, and those ships will now be needed for operations in the Pacific Theater. The mission is therefore to reinforce our Pacific Fleets, and assure that we do not relinquish any of our gains in that theater.”

“I understand,” said Shen.

“Good,” said Zhang. “Give the order, and with urgency. The route you choose home will be up to you, but it will be imperative that you at least reach Colombo safely.”

“Of course,” said Shen. “If the fleet cannot refuel there, then it could not proceed further east. Can you assure me Sun Wei will not arrive to ruin and fire at Colombo? What if those American bombers you mention strike there?”

“We are seizing Trincomalee as well, the fifth largest natural harbor in the world.”

“Seizing it?”

“Again… A matter for the Army. Airborne troops have been relieved in the Ryukyus and they will do what is necessary.”

“Yes? Well, it will need to be a matter for the Air Force as well.”

“Certainly. They will move fighters to Sri Lanka from our bases in Burma. And the new commander you appoint to replace Wu Jinlong will operate in the South China Sea so as to provide air cover over the Strait of Malacca. Do you believe Sun Wei should attempt that route?”

“It will be difficult in such constricted waters, but if he attempts the Sunda Strait instead he will get little air cover there, if any—unless it comes off the deck of Taifeng.”

“Exactly,” said Zhang Wendan. “Now, as we lose them one by one, we see just how valuable our aircraft carriers were.”

“Indeed. I must order Laoning to move from the Yellow Sea into the East China Sea to relieve Guandong, then that ship can move to the South China Sea to further support Admiral….” He hesitated, realizing Wu Jinlong was to be relieved of command.

“A good question, eh?” said Zhang. “Who will be the new Commander for South Seas Operations?”

At that point, they both turned to the third man in the room, Zheng Bao. He had been listening quietly, with great concern, and now he saw Admiral Shen give him a wink. It was obvious to him that he would not have been summoned here unless the General Staff already had their eye on him.

“Zheng Bao,” he said. “It seems you would be available for this post, and I cannot think of a better man.”

When his adjutant handed him the communication from Naval General Headquarters, Admiral Wu Jinlong took it stoically. “I will be in my ready room,” he said. “but I do not wish to be disturbed.”

“Understood, sir.”

The message was on paper, but with it the Adjutant handed him a memory key, because a video transmission was also sent, and directly from Navy Chief Shen Jinlong. He watched it, eyes heavy. The Navy Chief had tried to say he was needed at home, and that he was to be promoted to operational Commandant of all naval facilities on Hainan, now responsible for organizing and planning the defense of the South China Sea.

“I need a thinker there,” said Shen Jinlong. “I need a planner. As you cannot do this while still managing tactical affairs, that duty will pass to another….”

That duty will pass to another….

Any fighting Admiral who has ever come to realize he was now leaving the flag bridge and heading for a desk ashore would have reacted badly to the news, no matter how much it was dressed up as a promotion. For a long time after, Wu Jinlong sat in silence, head in hands, with the red burn of shame on his neck and back. If he had been a Japanese Admiral in WWII, he might have contemplated something more, but ritual suicide was not in the Chinese character. So he would bear up, do what he could to salvage his face and honor, and go on.

An hour later he emerged from his ready room, not even looking at the bridge crew as he left the bridge and headed down to the officer’s dining room. When he entered, he was shocked to see all his senior officers in dress whites. They snapped to attention, and at the back of the room, the ship’s band played an anthem. Each man saluted him in turn, and then they all bowed, a sign of great honor and respect.

“So,” he said, trying to smile. “I was going to make an announcement this evening, but the rice is already cooked! It seems an Admiral’s private messages have become common knowledge, but I will not ask why. Very well, let me say that it has been an honor to serve with each and every one of you. I have been ordered to assume a post at Hainan, thinking and planning things you all will be doing in the coming weeks, and I will remember you all when I do so. But that is not all….”

He looked at them one at a time, as if trying to see their individual fates in the days and weeks ahead.

“Admiral Sun Wei is in a most difficult situation at Karachi. We have seen that the bases we use to support our operations are also subject to interdiction by the enemy, just as we tried to do the same to the American bases. So Sun Wei is coming home, and it is very likely that this fleet will be the welcoming committee. I know each of you will do your utmost, even if I must depart this very night to fly to Hainan. Captain Yang Chen will therefore assume tactical control of the fleet until a senior officer is sent from the homeland. Now… Let us eat.”

He gestured to the great round table in the center of the room, laden with freshly cooked dishes that had been rushed up from the galley. They would eat, and toast one another, but mostly the Admiral, and it was good to spend those last few hours with them. He did not know it at that hour, for one never knows these things, even if they can sense something in the moment, just beneath the strained smiles and restrained tears, but he would never see any of them again….

Chapter 21

Wu Jinlong’s fleet had reached Zamboanga by 18:00 on the 19th of January, when he learned that the Americans were now striking the newly provisioned airbase at Davao with their infernal Tomahawk missiles. All that he had labored to build was now under threat of destruction. Yet he could not wallow in this any longer. He packed away a few personal effects, then boarded a two seater J-15 and rose into the darkening skies with an escort of three J-31’s. He would be flown 540 miles to Subi Reef, landing there to meet briefly with Admiral Zheng Bao, his nominal superior for South Seas Operations, and now the man assuming overall tactical command of the fleet.

“Bad fortune,” said Zheng Bao. “The plight of the bombers at Beiying was most disturbing.”

“I cannot answer for that, as the Air Force is responsible for defending the Philippines. But the loss of Zhendong was my responsibility, and I fully accept that burden. I must tell you that we will most likely lose DDG’s Xining, and Yueshen as well.”

“The Moon God? I heard it was damaged, but not sunk.”

“Those two ships are still in the Celebes Sea, probably about 100 miles from Zamboanga now. The Moon God is still trying to control her flooding, and can only make 2 knots while that effort is underway. I fear the submarine that first attacked the fleet there will surely finish the job.”

Zheng Bao nodded grimly. “How did it happen?”

“We were ambushed from two sides. The torpedoes were first spotted off our aft port quarter, so the fleet turned and ran the other way. I believe Taifeng was the initial target, but I was able to maneuver the carrier to safety, and the torpedoes selected other ships. Then, we were suddenly attacked from the starboard side, by a wide spread of four torpedoes. There we were, running right at them….” The Admiral shrugged, taking a deep breath.

“Zhen Bao, we must find a way to strike at the bases they will use. The bombers made two big attacks, but the Americans were able to defend those islands with their naval and air assets. Their ships all carry land attack cruise missiles, and we have little that can be used in that role unless the Air Force brings it. That is what really broke the back of my operation, the American Tomahawks… and the Siberians.”

Zheng Bao placed a hand on Admiral Wu’s shoulder.

“Rest, Admiral,” he said. “You went there seeking no fame or glory, and now you return and shirk no blame. That is honorable. Now there will be much for you to do on Hainan. I have reserved my own office for you there. The Strategic Rocket Corps will be delivering DF-21’s, and I will be calling on you to use them, rest assured. You must now plan the defense of the South China Sea, provisioning all the reef island bases there. We must get more YJ-12 batteries and SAM sites established, and then you will also command the deployment of all naval assets there. Submarines must be moved to access sea lanes, patrols established, and expect a visitor. Carrier Guandong is moving into your zone from the East China Sea. Laoning will relieve that ship.”

“Laoning? I thought it was still designated a training ship.”

“It was. We have just graduated another class of carrier trained pilots. There are plenty now, and so the decision was made to make Laoning combat ready. It will help guard our position in the Ryukyus.”

“Am I to go to sea when Guandong arrives?”

That was the uncomfortable question Zheng Bao hoped he would not be asked, but he gave his friend and longtime associate a straight answer.

“For the moment, the General Staff wishes to avail itself of your organizational skills on Hainan.”

“I see…. Very well, Admiral. I will do all I can. And Admiral… Please accept my humble apology. I promised you a victory and instead—”

“Say nothing more, my friend,” said Zheng.

Admiral Wu would board another plane for the last 500 miles to Hainan Island three hours later, and Zheng Bao would fly to Zamboanga to see the long flight deck of Taifeng below in the Basilan Strait. He could see eight ships making that transit, and there were five more docked at the harbor. By the time he landed on Taifeng to assume command, his work was well cut out for him. Successive waves of cruise missiles were striking the airfield and port at Davao. SAM’s were depleted there, and only brave FFG Jinzhou was left on defense at the harbor, quickly exhausting its 32 HQ 16 SAM’s.

The Tomahawks quickly found the ship where it was docked at the pier, and destroyed it. the diesel fuel tanks were flaming, and Sasa Wharf destroyed. For all intents and purposes, the garrison troops there were now guarding nothing. The Flying Leopards were caught on the ground at the airport and savaged half way through their rearming cycle. All the strike assets that the Air Force had delivered to Wu Jinlong were now mostly destroyed or marooned on the damage airfields. Only the fighters were able to redeploy to other bases. Zheng Bao ordered any thirsty ship to quickly replenish at Zamboanga, and then continued on through the strait into the South China Sea.

As Wu Jinlong had feared and warned, the USS Franklin crept up on the foundering Moon God, and ended its misery with another torpedo at 17:48. No long after that, the last straggler, Type 052D destroyer Xining would suffer a similar fate. A Chinese Fuchi Class supply ship was in the area, but it would be spared to allow it to come to the aid of the stricken ships.

The defeat was complete now. Clark and Davao had been wrecked, killing bombers and all but six of the Flying Leopards sent to support the operation. Eight ships and one sub had been sunk, including a carrier and two irreplaceable Type 055 destroyers. None of the American bases was put out of operation for more than a few hours, but both Shenandoah and Chancellorsville had gone down in close fighting with the enemy fleet during the action. Those were two significant losses, but the USN had cut its pound of flesh in reprisal.

As the evening wore away, Admiral Cook took stock of his situation in the bottleneck of the Makassar Strait. He was looking at his carrier magazines, and aside from what was already mounted on strike planes, he had the following ordnance left: 12 x Slammers, 87 AAMRAM’s, just 25 of the newer AIM-260’s, and 8x HAWC’s. All the LRASM’s were gone, along with all his GBU-53’s, but he still had JSOW glide bombs and plenty of anti-radiation missiles. What he had mounted on the planes now would probably constitute his last effective strike. After that, he would have to undergo replenishment.

So he sent a message to Darwin to that effect, indicating that he wanted to move back into the Java Sea and await a replenishment convoy there. Just getting that far south was a 400 mile journey, and Carrier Strike Group Washington was now available to move into the Celebes Sea and take that watch.

Replenishment Group Forger out of Darwin was in the Timor Sea heading for the Java Sea at that hour with a tanker, ammunition ship, and the FFG (X) Class frigate Tavua, but that rendezvous and replenishment operation was going to take 48 hours.

It seemed that the naval situation was ‘under control’ in both theaters, and that a period of a few days quiet would settle on the seas. The next day, however, on the night of the 20th of January, Admiral Sun Wei sortied again from Karachi. His last desperate dash to Colombo was now underway.

US Satellite intelligence didn’t get a good look at what was happening until dawn on the 21st, but by 08:00, Captain Avrey Holmes had the data.

“These guys pulled a fast one,” he told his XO, Lt. Commander Cooper. “They turned it over last night and were out to sea before sunrise. Satellites picked them up 60 miles south of Karachi, but on a heading of 150. That’s right down the coast of India, and they’re just 30 miles beyond their territorial waters.”

“Now they don’t want to pick a fight with India,” said Cooper.

“I would think not, but there are also two Pakistani surface action Groups following in their wake. Time to get finished up here with the UNREP and head east. Just where, exactly, are we, Mister Cooper?”

“660 miles west of India, sir.”

The Captain took that in. “That means we wouldn’t get into strike range until about 20:00 this evening. Did Sherman leave Mumbai as ordered?”

“Yes sir, she’s about 120 miles south of the port now.”

“Well I’m sure Hap Turner got this same intel, but just in case he missed it, let him know that we think something is fishy here. Unless the Chinese turn west soon, they may be up to something. Tell him we’re heading east at once.”

“What about Roosevelt, sir? They just arrived at Salaha this morning, and we made off with all their loose change.”

“They’ll be on the bench for this one. If the Chinese keep this heading, then they may be attempting to withdraw. That’s good news and bad news, because they’ll be making for Sri Lanka now, and we’ll have to stop them. It’ll be up to Independence and New Jersey, so we’ll have to step lively.”

“India has ships at Mumbai, sir. What if they sortie?”

“Under the circumstances, it would not be very wise for that eel to come out of his cave, but I don’t like those two Pak TF’s trailing along with the Chinese. That could get someone’s dander up in New Delhi.”

“Let’s hope they mind their manners, sir.”

“Fedorov, how are things below decks,” said Karpov. “I haven’t had time to walk the ship of late.”

“Well enough,” said Fedorov. “Orlov has really warmed to his promotion. Now he walks around with his dress Captain’s hat on all the time. It’s almost comical, and some of the men mock him behind his back. But secretly, I think they are proud of him. They know what he does down there, and they are glad to see him get a leg up on the ladder.”

“Good, I meant it as a way to give him something I think he has been sorely needing—respect. I’ll be having dinner with him soon, and try to do that one-on-one with him more regularly. But tell me, is Lenkov still in one piece?”

The grim humor of that forced a smile from Fedorov. “Thankfully, he is, and there has been no further instance of that aberration in the reactor room. But Markov and Volushin haven’t reappeared, and it’s a little disturbing that none of the men have asked about them.”

“You are worried that no one remembers them?”

“Correct.”

“But Dobrynin remembered Markov easily enough.”

“Yes, but that may be because he was made aware of his disappearance from the very beginning. He was right there in the reactor section when it happened. You don’t forget something like that.”

“What about the others there?”

“Dobrynin clued them in on what had happened. I haven’t asked anyone yet, but I wonder if other crewmen on the ship would remember him now. Well, at least we accomplished a few things in the Celebes Sea.”

“Yes, we sunk another aircraft carrier,” said Karpov with a smile.

“And we got rid of Rod-25,” Fedorov followed quickly. “Yet I understand Tyrenkov had something to say about our last kill.”

“Yes,” said Karpov. “He called me on the secure comms last night. Says he thinks the Chinese are building up along the Amur River line, and he doesn’t like it. There’s been a lot of negative press in China—all state monitored and controlled, of course, but Siberians are not well liked there these days. He actually asked me not to sink anything more for a while. Can you believe that?”

“Well, I suppose I can see his point. An Armistice was signed, and here we are sinking a brand name capital ship like we did. The Chinese are probably pissed.”

“Are they?” said Karpov dismissively. “Well I don’t have to remind you that they killed my brother, Fedorov. They killed me. So they get what’s coming to them when they cross my path. That said, it looks like they’ve had more than they bargained for out here. Tyrenkov tells me their Admiral Wu has been recalled to Hainan—relieved of his command. He’s been replaced by Zheng Bao, his nominal superior, and the Chinese fleet has moved back into the Sulu Sea. Enterprise is heading south to replenish, and I suppose we should as well.”

“So where are we headed now, back to Surabaya?”

“Yes, we have a ship there with a few more missiles. We need the Gargoyles, and they have another eleven Zircons—the last in theater on those missiles. No matter. With the way they perform, we have plenty. But there more intelligence from Tyrenkov. He tells me the Chinese are pulling the remainder of their fleet out of the Gulf of Oman. They’re heading south as we speak, trying to get to Colombo on Sri Lanka, I suppose.”

“I thought the Americans sent cruise missiles against that port.”

“They did, but the Chinese have had engineers down there working day and night. You can only knock down a land base temporarily, Fedorov. Remember Pearl Harbor. It’s only a matter of time before it gets up and running again.”

“So what does this mean? Will the next fight be in the Indian Ocean?”

“Most likely, so I want to head that way as soon as we replenish. Enterprise is going to maneuver to the west Java Sea again to cover Singapore, but that’s boring. Let’s get out into the Indian Ocean.”

“That’s a big place,” said Fedorov. “Remember, we can’t use the Sunda Strait, and I wouldn’t advise the Strait of Malacca either.”

“All the more reason not to tag along with the Enterprise. What’s a good course, Mister Navigator?”

“Due south to Surabaya,” said Fedorov. “Then we sail out around Bali and take the Lombok Strait into the Indian Ocean. The Australians have Christmas and Cocos Islands out there.”

“Good sea room,” said Karpov.

“So will we get in on another fight?”

“Possibly. But the Americans are moving to cut off this Admiral Sun Wei before he can reach Colombo. It’s going to be a hard sea road for the Chinese. There’s no turning back. They’ll have to forge ahead, no matter what if they want to get to Sri Lanka, and I think they’re going to lose a lot of ships. One way or another, that fleet was doomed. The American Carrier Strike Groups have proven to be very effective—war winners. And I suppose we had something to do with it all as well.”

“We certainly did,” said Fedorov. “Perhaps more than we know right now.”

It was another of those ominous statements Fedorov would often make, and it was quite true.