Shattered Trident

24. PREPARATION

14 September 2016

0830 Local Time

Littoral Alliance Headquarters

Okutama, Nishitama District

Tokyo, Japan

Minister Hisagi and Admiral Orihara filed out of the Hirano estate’s dojo along with the rest of the alliance’s formal working group members. It had been a short meeting. There was little to discuss militarily. Attacks against Chinese merchant ships had fallen to almost zero, and those attacks that took place were very close to the Chinese coast, where defenses were more robust. The South Korean representative reported that they had lost one of their Type 214 submarines near Qingdao in the Yellow Sea.

Submarine attacks against Chinese deep-ocean semi-submersible oil rigs were also disappointing. Only one oil rig had been sunk, requiring four torpedoes before it finally capsized. Another two were seriously damaged. Although they were assessed as repairable, they had temporarily stopped pumping oil. Unfortunately, the PLAN responded quickly to this new avenue of attack and began forward-deploying ASW helicopters to the oil rigs. Freed from their responsibility of patrolling the shipping lanes, Chinese maritime patrol aircraft now concentrated their ASW searches near the drill sites, further complicating the approach for alliance submarines.

There had been no cruise missile strikes in the last two days, while the attacking ships and submarines returned to base to rearm. Orihara again emphasized that Project Ryusei would help to alleviate the gaps between cruise missile strikes. Of greater concern were the reports from South Korea and Vietnam that they were running low on land-attack cruise missiles. The Korean representative said the production of the Hyunmoo 3 missiles had been stepped up, but it would be at least two weeks before the alliance would see an appreciable increase in their inventory. India promised to see what they could do to resupply Vietnam with 3M-14E Klub land-attack missiles. Unfortunately, a significant number of India’s stock had been expended in the opening attacks against the Pakistanis.

There was good news from the Vietnam front. Thanks to India’s transfer of two Su-30MKI Flanker squadrons, the Chinese Air Force had suffered considerable losses to their frontline air regiments. When combined with classic Vietnamese SAM traps, Chinese ground-support air strikes had been reduced by nearly half. Deprived of adequate air support, the Chinese Army’s advance had slowed significantly.

The working group took the “good news/bad news” update brief with guarded optimism, but the topic of discussion had nothing to do with the execution of the war. No, it dealt with the growing civil unrest in several Littoral Alliance nations. Tokyo, Seoul, Taipei, and Hanoi had all had large civilian demonstrations demanding an end to hostilities. Much of the anger behind the protests was directly tied to the Chinese ballistic missile attacks on the capital cities, but a number of Internet blogs and social networking sites were throwing gasoline on the fire. One Japanese Web site had leaked the existence of the Beidou jamming system, and claimed the military was using the civilian population as a shield. Hisagi was incensed.

“The individual responsible should be tried for treason,” he hissed.

Orihara laughed cynically. “The leak was undoubtedly a Chinese information operation targeted against the people of our nations’ capitals. They either discovered or deduced the countermeasure we put in place, and are now trying to shift the blame on to us for the civilian deaths.”

“The Internet is proving to be a curse,” Hisagi grumbled.

“Indeed, and some Web sites are far more damaging than others. Take that Bywater site, for example.”

“You mean the one run by the Canadian?”

“Yes! He is particularly well informed. He must have spies all over the world!” Orihara vented. “His recent analysis on the mining of Liaoning was disturbingly accurate. It was as if he was reading our own after-action reports.”

Hisagi stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed the admiral by the arm; there was great concern on the foreign minister’s face. “Are you suggesting someone in the alliance is feeding him information?”

Orihara sighed. “I don’t know, Shuhei-san. It’s a possibility, but this McMurtrie fellow is, by all accounts, a very bright man. His rendition of the Battle of Spratly Island was even more detailed than the Vietnamese Navy’s official report. Regardless, his blog has a huge following within the alliance and throughout the world. And now that he’s working for CNN, his postings carry even greater weight, and they are not necessarily in our best interest.”

Both men suddenly went silent as they saw Komamura walking down the hall toward his office. His head was down, his posture slumped, and his feet moved in uneven small steps. Hisagi shook his head in disappointment and pity. “He’s been drinking again.”

“I’m afraid so,” Orihara replied sternly. “He’s been very depressed since his discovery of the improved warhead. That knowledge is weighing heavily on him.”

“It’s the memory of his mother,” Hisagi volunteered. “She died from cancer caused by radiation from the Nagasaki bombing. Her death was slow and painful. Her death haunts him.”

Orihara looked again at the retreating figure. His face now showed understanding and compassion instead of disdain. “I did not know this. It explains much,” he said.

The admiral turned back to Hisagi. Orihara stood almost at attention and swallowed hard. “Forgive me, Minister, for what I’m about to say, but I must. I believe Professor Komamura is becoming a significant security risk. His questionable mental and emotional stability is becoming a threat to the very alliance his genius has inspired.”

Hisagi’s expression suddenly became pained, and he turned away from the admiral. Orihara expected the minister to lash out in anger, but instead he slowly looked back; there was a sad look on his face. Nodding, he said, “As much as I hate to agree with you, Admiral, I find your concerns to be valid. We cannot remove him, though. The other alliance members would never tolerate that. But we can watch him closely. For his own good, as well as that of the alliance.”

14 September 2016

0800 Local Time

August 1st Building, Ministry of National Defense Compound

Beijing, People’s Republic of China

General Su pointed to the map of northern Vietnam with his laser pointer. “As of early this morning, PLA units now control all five northeastern provinces and most of Lai Chau, an adjacent northwestern province. Our rate of advance has slowed, due to the arrival of Vietnamese reinforcements and reduced air support.” Su made sure he had eye contact with General Wang, head of the PLAAF, when he finished the sentence.

“Our casualties are running higher than expected, but not excessively so,” Su continued. “The 13th, 41st, and 47th Group Armies have suffered the most and have been reinforced by the 20th and 31st Group Armies. This leaves only the 54th Group Army as an operational reserve; however, three reinforcement group armies have finished embarking their trains and are en route to the Guangzhou Military Region. That concludes my summary. Are there any questions?”

“General Su,” opened the minister of defense, “in committing two of the reserve group armies to the northeast so soon, I’m concerned that we are leaving the northwest flank open to counterattack. How long before the reinforcements arrive and are combat ready?”

Su nodded and illuminated that area on the map. “General Wen, once the reinforcements arrive, I plan to shift the 54th Group Army to the west to shore up that front. This should be accomplished in approximately one week. Fortunately, the hideous terrain affects Vietnamese tanks as much as it does ours. Moving mechanized units just takes more time. While there is some risk with this deployment, I believe it is acceptable.”

Ye Jin, the head of the logistics department, was next. “General, with the reinforcements, we will have committed two-thirds of our frontline army units to the assault on Vietnam. Shouldn’t we consider mobilizing some units of the ready reserve?”

Su frowned. Mobilizing reserves was a political hot button. Militarily it was the right answer, but some members of the CMC argued that it would have a negative effect on an already unhappy people. To hell with their concerns, Su thought. He was a soldier and he would give a soldier’s answer. “You are correct, General Ye. We’ll need more troops as garrison forces for the provinces we’ve occupied. I don’t have an accurate number for you right now, at least several divisions, but the sooner we start, the better.”

If Zhang or Shi were unhappy with Su’s response, they didn’t show it. Chen had been ambivalent on the issue, his views shifting back and forth depending on who had talked to him last. However, it was the president who responded. “Very well, General Su. This commission will consider your recommendation. Please provide us with the force requirements and mobilization timetable and we’ll discuss it later.”

“Yes, Comrade President. You’ll have the figures by this afternoon,” replied Su. The president’s answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but at least the topic was now formally on the commission’s docket for discussion.

Chen rose and cleared his throat, commanding the commission’s attention. “Fellow members, I appreciate the effort and forethought you put into your progress reports. But while they are encouraging, I’m beginning to sense stagnation in our war effort.

“We’ve finally contained the submarine threat in our waters, and Admiral Wei has said that the first convoys will be ready to set sail in a few days. However, the performance of our own submarine campaign is less than impressive. I understand there are many reasons for this, but comrades, we have to find a way to do better.

“And I’m not just singling out our navy. The picture in the air and on the ground shows progress, but the rate of improvement is slow. Let me be blunt. Our military position in this war has improved, but it’s not improving fast enough.”

Chen walked over to the theater map on the large-screen display and pointed to three formations in the middle of the Philippine Sea. “The Americans now have three carrier strike groups within a day’s travel of the South and East China Seas. All four of their SSGNs have deployed, and the two in the U.S. Pacific Fleet are likely within striking distance as I speak. Their submarine forces in the Pacific have also been sortied—there are currently four attack submarines at Guam. Three of them are of the new Virginia type. The United States has amassed a huge armada on our very doorstep, and should they become directly involved, we will be hard-pressed to stop them.”

Alarmed, General Xiao interrupted, “But Comrade President, surely our anti-ship ballistic missiles will keep them at bay?”

“We are still in the process of developing the entire system,” cautioned Hu. “The missile flies, and flies well, but there are problems involved with targeting the weapons that we are still working on. In addition, we’ve redeployed many of the launchers to augment the attacks on Japan, South Korea, and Vietnam. We might be able to handle one carrier, but not three.”

“It’s their submarines that will break us,” interjected Wei firmly. “They can wreak far more havoc than the Littoral Alliance could ever conceive of doing. The two SSGNs alone can carry more land-attack missiles than have been fired on us thus far. If the United States joins the Littoral Alliance, and follows their strategy, the vast majority of our oil infrastructure is within range of their Tomahawks.”

“This is an unnecessary academic discussion,” objected Wang, obviously frustrated. “Ambassador Yang’s reports clearly show the United States is heavily divided. Many of its people and political leaders are strongly advocating neutrality, particularly after the Littoral Alliance rebuffed their president. And history shows that when America is divided, it usually doesn’t act.”

“You’re correct in saying America is divided, General Wang,” observed Shi Peng, the chief of the political department. “But the ambassador also notes the division is almost a fifty/fifty split between neutrality and joining the alliance. In short, President Myles will anger half of his population regardless of what he does. This makes him potentially very dangerous, much more so than the statistics would suggest. And may I remind you that we haven’t accepted his proposals either.”

Vice President Zhang Fei looked depressed. “If the Americans are considering joining the alliance, perhaps a limited nuclear demonstration, say on a Japanese target, would give them something to consider.”

Both Chen and Su strongly disagreed. “Absolutely not!” cried Su. “My apologies, Comrade Vice President, but if the United States is sitting on the fence, then such a move would only push them over onto the alliance side.”

“I agree with General Su,” stated Chen strongly. “Such a move would almost certainly work against us.”

“Then what can we do?” asked Zhang.

“We must push harder, move faster,” declared Chen. “Commanders, we currently have the advantage, and we need to exploit it to the fullest extent possible. I expect you to be bold, even daring. We must take more risks if we are to conclude this conflict in our favor. If this war descends into a long-term struggle, then even if we win, we lose.”

14 September 2016

1030 Local Time

Squadron Fifteen Headquarters

Guam

The summons to the squadron headquarters arrived mid-morning. Frankly, Jerry was very surprised that the call hadn’t come earlier—it had been over thirty-six hours since the VTC on Monday night. He suspected Simonis was still deeply troubled by his recommendation to the president to use nuclear weapons as a war-ending strategy. The commodore had been in a state of total disbelief when the VTC ended, and left without saying a single word. Everyone stood in amazement as he just walked out of the conference room. No ranting, no orders, nothing.

Jerry again skipped the car ride and walked to the squadron headquarters building. It was a pleasant morning and the stroll helped to clear his head. He fully expected a major blowout with Simonis, and he needed to be thinking clearly. After signing in at the quarterdeck, he collected his visitor’s badge and passed through the turnstiles, taking the left-hand passageway toward the squadron admin spaces. As he passed by one of the offices, a voice called out to him, “Commander Mitchell!”

Jerry turned to see someone poking his head out of an open door. It was Commander Walker, Simonis’s operations officer. “Do you have a minute, Captain?” he asked.

Glancing at his watch, Jerry saw he still had five minutes before his meeting with Simonis. “Yeah, sure. What can I do for you?”

Walker motioned for Jerry to come into his office, then closed the door behind him. He looked a little agitated. “The order to implement your nuke demo suggestion came in earlier this morning. We’ve been tasked to carry it out, and the commodore is not a happy camper. He’s been bubbling like a stopped-up volcano all morning. Your meeting won’t be very pleasant, I’m afraid.”

Jerry nodded. “I figured we’d get the job. I was pretty sure the air force didn’t have a weapon that could get as deep as we need to go.”

“Well, I wouldn’t admit that if I were you. It’ll only make him madder.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, although I don’t think it will matter one iota what I say. He’s not very open to people who disagree with him.”

Walker smiled wearily. “You got that right.”

“Thanks for the heads-up, though. I’ll try not to antagonize him any more than I already have.” Jerry turned to leave, but Walker spoke up again.

“Ah, Captain… I also wanted to thank you for sticking up for Warren Halsey the other day.”

Jerry pivoted to face Walker again. Confused, he said, “I wasn’t aware that Halsey needed defending. I only presented what I believed had happened.”

“Warren was a close friend,” Walker explained slowly. “He wasn’t the best submarine skipper, but he was a competent one. Unfortunately, that’s not good enough for our commodore. It didn’t help that Santa Fe was not in the best of shape. Warren and Captain Simonis had a pretty tumultuous relationship; the commodore can be brutally harsh at times. I just wanted to let you know that I appreciated someone, other than myself and the CSO, speaking up for Warren, that’s all.”

“You’re welcome,” Jerry replied. “And I’m sorry that you lost a friend. It’s never easy, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” responded Walker quietly. Jerry could see there was still pain in his eyes. Clearing his throat, he added, “If there is anything I can do for you, just let me know. I like to pay my debts.”

Initially, Jerry was going to tell Walker that wasn’t necessary. But before he could say anything, a nagging question resurfaced in his mind. “Now that you mention it, there is something I’d appreciate you looking into.”

“Name it!” Walker said eagerly.

“Can your intel shop get me any information on the current CO of the Indian Akula, INS Chakra? The guy is a certified pain in the ass, and we’re likely to run into him again. I’d like to know who I’m dealing with.”

“I’ll get the request into the system immediately and ask for an expedited response.”

Jerry thanked Walker and shook his hand. Jerry then marched quickly to the commodore’s reception area. The first-class yeoman in the outer office saw him approaching and immediately rose. “Good morning, Captain. I’ll let the commodore know you’re here.”

Jerry smiled and nodded. His eyes wandered around the outer office as he waited for the yeoman to return. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Sir, the commodore will see you now.”

Thanking the yeoman, Jerry walked smartly into Simonis’s office and snapped to attention. “Commanding Officer, USS North Dakota, reporting as ordered, sir.”

Simonis was over by his side table, refilling his coffee mug. Without even looking in Jerry’s direction he ordered, “Please close the door, Captain. Then take a seat.”

Jerry carefully shut the door and strode quickly to the conference table. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Simonis walked slowly by his desk, and picked up a folder. He threw it onto the table and sat down. Jerry noticed the commodore hadn’t bothered to offer him any coffee this time, a bad omen.

“Congratulations, Captain, your harebrained scheme has been approved by the president,” Simonis began sarcastically. “And it gets even better. My squadron has been ordered to carry out this fool’s errand. Your ditsy buddy, Dr. Patterson, is leaving Hawaii within the hour with twelve modified Mark 48 torpedoes. She’ll arrive around 1930. Shortly thereafter we’ll begin loading three nuclear-armed torpedoes on each submarine. North Dakota will be the first to depart at 1200 tomorrow.”

Jerry was angered by Simonis’s disrespectful tone when he spoke of Joanna, but Jerry kept his response short and professional. “Understood, Commodore, we’ll be standing by to receive the weapons by 1915. Is there anything else?”

“Anything else? I would think starting a nuclear war is quite enough, don’t you, Captain?”

“I don’t believe this demonstration will trigger a nuclear exchange, Commodore,” Jerry answered tersely. “And apparently neither does the president.”

“Well, I’m sure that will be of great comfort to the survivors after a city or two is vaporized,” sniped Simonis.

Jerry had had enough. “Permission to speak frankly, sir.”

“By all means, Captain.”

“If you disagree so strongly with this course of action, why don’t you ask to be relieved?”

“Because it wouldn’t do any good. They’d just bring in someone who’d follow the orders of an asinine academic who’s trying to get reelected!” Simonis replied angrily.

“So, you’ll just sit here and badmouth the president, the deputy national security advisor, or anyone else who happens to disagree with you. Contempt of an official is a UCMJ violation, Commodore, Article 88 if I remember correctly,” Jerry shot back.

Simonis became enraged. Jumping to his feet, he howled, “HOW DARE YOU LECTURE—”

“YES, COMMODORE! I DO DARE,” shouted Jerry just as loudly. “Your behavior is unprofessional and a disgrace! IF you are so convinced these orders are a disaster in the making, then show some courage and ask to be relieved! Otherwise, stop this passive-aggressive bullshit and do your job!”

Simonis sat back down, stunned; he was unaccustomed to subordinates fighting back. His jaw was tight, his fists balled, he was visibly shaking. “And what makes you so damn sure this will work? How do you know you’re right!?” he growled through clenched teeth.

“How do I know it will work, Commodore?” replied Jerry with a lower, less adversarial tone. “Honestly, I don’t know. But in looking at the president’s likely options, it seems to be the path with the least risk.”

“Least risk!?” Simonis wailed. “You obviously don’t see the big picture, Captain. The least risk is for us to remain neutral. Stay out of the fight completely!”

“Is that really true, Commodore?” pushed Jerry. “Let’s analyze that hypothesis. Staying neutral all but ensures the fighting goes on for a whole lot longer. Eventually, China will likely win, but their economy will be down the toilet. This will cause a global economic meltdown as bad, or conceivably even worse, than the Great Depression of the 1930s, that will drag us down as well. Just look at the economic impact the war has already had on the U.S. and Europe. A collapse is unavoidable; our economies are too interconnected. Every newspaper article and official government report I’ve read all say the same thing—unprecedented unemployment, soaring poverty, and the government safety net can’t possibly catch them all.

“Politically, the U.S. will be viewed as untrustworthy. At the very least we’ll be pushed out of the Pacific Rim, because we refused to honor our treaty commitments. I know that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but the blame game isn’t exactly logical. We’ll be blamed for their loss, even though the Littoral Alliance rejected the president’s repeated attempts at mediation. This will also raise doubts with other countries as to whether we’ll honor our security agreements with them. Coupled with our own economic problems, U.S. influence will be severely compromised.

“And I haven’t even begun to address the humanitarian disaster this war will cause if it continues. Every continent will be affected, some far worse than others. Definitely China and the Littoral Alliance will suffer more civilian casualties, but the impact on developing nations following the economic collapse will be catastrophic.

“No, sir. The bigger picture painted by staying neutral is dismal, even if we ignore the significant loss of life, worldwide, this war will cause. The U.S. will emerge from it fiscally broke, politically feeble, a superpower in military terms only. Which is why the president has already chosen not to adopt that strategy, you know this better than I. PACOM has already started implementing major parts of OPLAN 5077. Come tomorrow, one way or another, my boat leaves for war.

“So, either we shock the crap out of both the Chinese and the alliance, get them to see the oncoming train wreck, or we start shooting Chinese targets. And once we push their back up against the wall, the Chinese will feel compelled to resort to a nuclear demonstration to stave off defeat. That’s when a city or two will be vaporized. They may not be ours, but that distinction won’t matter a whole hell of a lot. After that, things will go downhill really fast.”

“I don’t buy the use of nuclear weapons, period, Mitchell,” said Simonis, still strained. “It is too easy to misinterpret the message we’re trying to send.”

“I’m not saying there isn’t any risk, Commodore,” argued Jerry. “All I’m saying is that the risk of a preemptive demonstration out in the middle of the ocean is lower than escalation to the point where nuclear weapons are used against an actual target.

“Think about it. There really is very little to misinterpret. The first warning the Littoral Alliance and China will have is when the warheads detonate. They’ll know they went off, and they’ll know they went off far from their homelands. That’s why our squadron got tasked with this mission; we’ve got the stealth and the weapons to pull it off. This has to be a bolt out of the frickin’ blue, no warning, just a lot of big bangs that will shock the living daylights outta them, hopefully enough to bring everyone to their senses.”

Simonis didn’t respond immediately. He just sat there, his mind working its way through Jerry’s explanation. On the plus side, the crimson hue had drained from the commodore’s face and his hands were no longer clenched tight. After nearly a minute of silence, Simonis took a deep breath; he seemed calmer, but his voice was still tense as he spoke. “Thank you for your explanation, Captain. I’m still not completely convinced this is the right thing to do, but I now see there is some logic behind it. I must admit that I’m greatly concerned about the possibility of a Chinese retaliation. This island makes for a splendid demonstration target.”

Jerry smiled weakly. “The thought had occurred to me as well, sir. I just didn’t think it would be very constructive for me to bring it up.”

“You’re correct, it wouldn’t,” replied Simonis sternly. “I have a lot of people and their families here, Captain, and I’m responsible for their welfare. It’s difficult for me to watch this situation as it deteriorates, and know that I have absolutely no control over what’s going on. It’s not a pleasant feeling being helpless.”

“I completely understand, sir. I believe that was the point you had to ram down my throat earlier.” Jerry grinned as he spoke. To his relief, Simonis broke out laughing.

“I guess I’d make a rather poor psychiatrist. Beating one’s patients about the head and shoulders is usually frowned upon.”

“Well, I can certainly vouch for the effectiveness of the treatment,” Jerry said with a wink. “But your bedside manner could use some work.”

Simonis smiled as he nodded. “Got it. I’ll make sure it’s on my next counseling form.”

Rising, the commodore extended his hand to Jerry, who grasped it firmly. “I expect you and your crew to carry out your assignment flawlessly, Captain,” remarked Simonis firmly.

“Understood, sir. I’ll try not to disappoint you.”

“I know you won’t, Captain.”

14 September 2016

1930 Local Time

Andersen Air Force Base

Guam

Simonis watched as the C-17 Globemaster III transport aircraft pulled up to the hangar. The immediate location was swarming with air force security personnel. The roads to the submarine piers had been closed to civilian traffic, and marines lined the entire route. Security was so tight, one would have thought the president of the United States was coming for a visit.

As the aircraft’s turbine engines wound down, the cargo ramp began lowering; more security personnel jumped out of the back of the aircraft and quickly set up a perimeter. Marine guards ran forward with the trucks as they moved into position to receive the “special torpedoes.” Soon Simonis saw the forward crew door open. The access ladder extended out and reached for the tarmac. Once the ladder was down, Dr. Patterson emerged from the airplane along with a small entourage. Simonis walked briskly up to meet her.

“Welcome back to Guam, Dr. Patterson.”

“Thank you, Captain,” she replied. Joanna then pointed to the two officers accompanying her. “Captain Simonis, this is Colonel Thomas and Chief Warrant Officer Four Harris, they’re in charge of preparing and supervising the loading of the weapons. Gentlemen, Captain Simonis is the commodore of Submarine Squadron Fifteen.”

After a brief exchange of greetings, both Thomas and Harris excused themselves and marched over to the cargo ramp to supervise the unloading. Patterson, her two guards, and Simonis headed toward a row of parked cars.

“The entire route from here to the submarines has been cordoned off, and there are Marines stationed in armed HUMVEEs every half mile. The air force security forces squadron has set up patrols all around the base perimeter. To quote the base commander, ‘a seagull would need a pass to get in here,’” Simonis reported.

“Excellent, Captain. Did the governor give you any grief?”

Simonis chuckled. “There was some friction at first. He wasn’t happy with us shutting down several of the main streets for a couple of hours, but the call from the secretary of state solved that problem.”

“Good! The sooner we get these weapons on the boats, the happier I’ll be,” Patterson exclaimed.

For the rest of the brief walk to the cars, Simonis and Patterson were silent. But as Simonis opened one of the car’s rear doors for Joanna he finally said, “Dr. Patterson, I must admit I’m not a particular fan of Mitchell’s proposal. It would make my job a lot easier if I knew this plan had been thoroughly discussed with the president before he made his decision.”

Joanna initially looked puzzled, then a grin slowly lit on her face. “Ohh, yes, Captain, there was a long, and at times very heated discussion. The president basically convened an impromptu meeting of the NSC right after the VTC and he heard everyone’s views. I can assure you the topic was discussed in detail, and his decision was not made lightly.”

“I see,” said Simonis, somewhat satisfied. “If you’re allowed to say, I’d like to know what some of the objections were.”

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I’m not at liberty to go into details of the discussion with the president,” replied Joanna. She saw the disappointment on his face, but she was also sympathetic to the issue he was wrestling with. Joanna took a deep breath and spoke softly. “What I can tell you is that there were two strongly held opinions. But by the end of the meeting, only one member objected to implementing Jerry’s idea. The rest, including myself, felt it was the best option available to us.”

Simonis nodded his understanding. “Sounds very much like the same conversation I had with Commander Mitchell this morning. He doesn’t back down much, does he?”

Joanna laughed, clearly amused. “No, Commodore, Jerry has a stubborn streak in him. He’s also not the greatest at being tactful, a trait I fear he learned from my husband.”

“Your husband?” asked Simonis, confused. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“You know my husband was Jerry’s first CO, on USS Memphis, don’t you?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes, I’m aware of Mitchell’s record,” Simonis responded, still uncertain as to what she meant.

Patterson nodded and continued with her explanation. “Lowell ran a very tight ship, and even he admits he could be a difficult man to work for. He and Jerry went at it, hammer and tongs, on more than one occasion. Both men can be stubborn as mules, God knows. But Jerry was able to hold his own, largely by being brutally honest and straightforward, and Lowell begrudgingly respected him for it. They are now very close friends. No, sir, if Jerry Mitchell has a strongly held position on a topic, he won’t back down, regardless of the personal cost. Which is why the president finds him so refreshing.”

Joanna slowly scooted into the backseat, and after she’d been flanked on either side by her marine escort, Simonis closed the door and walked quickly to the passenger side. As the convoy left Andersen Air Force Base, Simonis was mentally chewing on the new information Patterson had provided. There was more to Jerry Mitchell than he’d originally thought, much more. And if the vast majority of the president’s advisers felt Mitchell’s idea was their best option, after fighting about it amongst themselves, then perhaps it really was the right thing to do.

14 September 2016

2230 Local Time

Squadron Fifteen Headquarters

Guam

“Attention on deck!” shouted Captain Jacobs. The assembled group quickly came to attention as Simonis and Patterson walked into the conference room.

“As you were,” Simonis boomed. The commodore marched straight up to the podium; he wasted no time in getting the predeployment briefing started.

“My apologies for the late hour of this briefing, but it was unavoidable. As you know, Dr. Patterson has been jumping from boat to boat getting the special weapons prepared and loaded into the torpedo tubes. As her presence was absolutely necessary, we had to wait until she had finished inserting all the PAL codes and had witnessed all the torpedoes being locked in their tubes before we could drag her away for some dinner. I may be able to flog you guys like rented mules, but I have to be a little more lenient with senior administration officials.”

The audience’s laugh was genuine, and Joanna just shrugged her shoulders. Simonis then punched a few buttons and brought up the first briefing slide on the large-screen display. In big, bold letters, the slide was titled OPERATION MINERVA. A low murmur grew from the crowd, along with some snickering.

“All right, pay attention. ‘Operation Minerva’ is the code name for the deployment of eight modified Mark 48 torpedoes with nuclear warheads in the deep-ocean areas adjacent to the South and East China Seas. And I don’t want to hear any guff about the name. I don’t write this crap, so we’ll just have to suffer together. Some faceless bureaucrat named the operation after the Roman goddess of useful knowledge and wisdom—which would be apropos given the goal of this mission. Now, moving on…”

Jerry was following along with the copy of Simonis’s presentation in his briefing binder, but as he turned to the page, he found a single sheet of paper sitting on top of the second slide. It was a hard copy of an e-mail from ONI concerning the commanding officer of INS Chakra. Jerry eagerly began reading its contents. Simonis’s voice faded into the background.

Jerry’s eyebrows rose when he read the line about completing the Perisher course. When he got to the part where it said the Indian was highly rated, he whistled softly and whispered, “Whoa!”

Thigpen heard his skipper and looked over with curiosity. Jerry gave him a stern look and waved a finger at him, signaling that he should be paying attention to the commodore. One of them had to, but at the moment Jerry was busy getting to know Mr. Samant.

After finishing the e-mail, Jerry immediately ran through the three encounters he’d had with the Indian captain. Everything in the ONI e-mail matched his impressions. Samant was as good as Jerry suspected. No, scratch that. If a Royal Navy Perisher Teacher thought he was good, then the Indian was damn good! It suddenly became obvious that Jerry had seriously underestimated the man during the last two meetings. Which is why I lost, he thought to himself.

The rest of the briefing was basically a blur for Jerry. His mind was elsewhere, in the middle of the South China Sea, and focused on a very capable adversary. Strangely, Jerry felt encouraged by the e-mail. He now had something to work with, a man’s identity, an idea of his capabilities. Information Jerry could use to begin planning for their next encounter. And he was absolutely convinced there would be another.

Suddenly, Jerry was jerked back to the predeployment briefing by Simonis’s loud voice. He was a little shocked to find out he’d missed all of Joanna’s presentation. Chagrined, he looked over at Thigpen’s steno pad and saw his XO had taken copious notes.

“L-hour is tomorrow at 1200 local time,” Simonis announced. “Commander Mitchell, North Dakota sorties first. You’ve got the farthest to go and you’ll have to fly at flank speed for a good portion of your transit.”

Jerry nodded as he acknowledged the order. “Understood, Commodore.”

“Commander Nevens, North Carolina will leave four hours later. Followed by Texas and Oklahoma City. In seventy-two hours you have to be in the launch boxes articulated by Dr. Patterson. H-hour is 1200 local time on 18 September. At precisely that time, each submarine will fire two nuclear-armed torpedoes on the assigned courses and at medium speed. You’ll then promptly put your ass to the blast, come shallow, and run like hell. Clear?”

“Yes, sir!” answered the four commanding officers.

“Very well,” replied Simonis. “Now I suggest you finish up any preparations you may have left before you deploy tomorrow. I’ve augmented the duty staff and they’ll assist you with whatever you need. Just call and get things moving, we’ll follow up with the paperwork later. Any questions?”

There were none.

“All right, I’ll see you all tomorrow morning at Santa Fe’s memorial service. Afterwards, we’ll honor our shipmates by ending this war. Dismissed!”

14 September 2016

1800 Local Time

By Water

Halifax, Nova Scotia