The Scorpion's Gate

16

“How far are you from the lead element of their battle group, Captain?” Admiral Brad Adams asked the skipper of the cruiser USS Ticonderoga on a secure voice hookup.

“Admiral, I am on the bridge and I can see one of their ships on the horizon through the glasses. Looks just like a U.S. Burke-class, and he’s closing on me,” the voice said over the speaker.

“Too close,” Adams said to Captain John Hardy, who was standing next to him in CIC. Then the admiral pressed the mike to talk to the cruiser Ticonderoga. “Captain, pull back. Maintain twenty-fivemile separation, but let him know you’re there. Turn everything up so he knows.” Hanging up the phone, he turned to his intelligence officer. “If we have to fight them, we’re going to get bloody. I don’t want to start that fight by mistake or miscalculation.” He exhaled.

“Johnny, do the Chinese still think that the Ticonderoga is us? The Reagan? Do they think we’re down there in the Indian Ocean?”

“From what I can tell from the intercepts, that’s exactly what they think”—Hardy laughed—“and from the daily plots the Pentagon issues, I’d say Washington thinks we’re down there, too!”

“And the Iranians, Johnny?” Adams asked.

“Them too,” the captain answered. “Their plane followed us out past Hormuz into the northern Arabian sea, but then it went back. I don’t think anybody knows we’ve been circling since we went EMCON and then electronically lit up the freighters from Diego Garcia to look like warships. I think the trick is working, just like it used to do with the Soviets.”

The Reagan’s commander, Captain Andrew Rucker, had been listening, and he walked over. “I gotta hand it to you, Admiral. I didn’t think you could hide a U.S. carrier battle group, let alone from the Pentagon.”

“Well, it’s a Cold War trick. You put out radar corner reflectors and radio and radar transmitters and suddenly a destroyer looks like a carrier, a freighter looks like a cruiser to the satellites and the radio intercept towers. It worked on the Chinese. The only reason that the Pentagon thinks we’re down there is because that’s what we are reporting to them. And because Bobby Doyle and a few other friends are playing along…” Adams replied in a low voice.

“But at some point, sir, we’re going to have to hightail it down there if we’re going to block the Chinese fleet,” Rucker said, looking at the location of the ships on a wall projection.

“If we have to, we will. We’ll crank the reactors and scoot, but we’ll do it under emissions control, quiet, so they don’t see us coming.” The Admiral continued: “If we get caught out by the Pentagon, I’ll take the fall. You’re just following my orders.” At the door, he turned back to the two captains. “I’m going topside to get some air. Let me know if anything changes. Rucker, you want to join me?”

On the flight deck, Brad Adams and Captain Andrew Rucker walked among the aircraft in the predawn dark, hands thrust in their pockets. They had seldom seen an aircraft carrier so still. No flight activity under way. The normally spinning radars turned off. Most of the lights out. Adams stared out at the water, wondering if he was doing the right thing. He wanted to be in two places at once, in the Gulf to stop the Iranians from invading Bahrain and Islamyah, and in the Indian Ocean to intercept the Chinese troop ships and maybe shoot it out with the Chinese fleet. Right now, he was in neither place, but bobbing up and down in the Arabian Sea.

“Andy, what we’re doing here is on the razor’s edge of insubordination. Look, I believe in civilian control of the military. It’s what has kept us from having coups and the kind of chaos other nations have had. But when the civilians’ decisions aren’t subject to checks and balances, when they distort information, when they cow the media into going along with their shit, I dunno,” Brad mused.

“Sir, they taught us at Newport how when Colin Powell’s generation of young officers came back from Vietnam, they all swore that they would never let the civilians take the Army to war again if there was no good need, no endgame, no informed popular support. Maybe we gotta get back to that attitude in the military,” Rucker suggested.

“Admiral,” John Hardy called out across the flight deck. The captain ran across the steel plate. “The Iranians have set to sea. Everything they’ve got. Amphibious assault ships, car ferries, freighters. Moving toward Islamyah and Bahrain. NSA reports that they’ve launched almost one hundred sorties from their air bases.”

“How long do you think that they can fend them off?” Adams asked, taking the reports.

Hardy shook his head. “Not long. Islamyah is holding forces in the West, in case we invade them, too.”

“Well, it’s decision time, Johnny.” Adams looked back out to sea. “I cannot go back into the Gulf. Not while we still have the Chinese coming our way.”

A sailor approached them, carrying a large manila envelope. Hardy opened it. “Shit. It’s a CRITIC from ASU Bahrain: ‘Iranian aircraft dropped bombs on Fifth Fleet headquarters at 0530 local.’ ”

“Good thing we emptied it out, Johnny.” Adams looked at the CRITIC message. “But we still have a lot of Americans nearby. Let’s go back inside.”

As they reentered CIC, the battle group commander, Rear Admiral Frank Haggerty, was directing a flurry of activity. He was speaking into the secure telephone. “Commander, this is very important. Can you confirm that the Zhou Man has done a one-hundred-eightydegree turn?”

A voice responded over the speaker box on the wall. “Yes, sir, Admiral. I’m looking at her stern through the periscope. She did a big wide turn.”

Adams went over to Haggerty. “Who is that?”

“It’s the CO on the Tucson. She’s been submerged, following the Zhou Man. But I also have the P-3 that’s been tracking the Chinese Ro-Ros. It’s reporting that they are sailing in toward Karachi. Ticonderoga says the destroyer that was out front turned around, too. I think they’re bugging out, Brad.” Haggerty was clearly excited. “What the hell happened?”

“Admirals, if I may, a couple of things happened,” Captain Hardy said, poring over his papers. “Almost all of the Indian Navy has put to sea in battle formation and they were sailing up behind the Chinese.” Hardy almost chuckled. “And the Zhou Man and Zheng He both got a high-precedence, special encryption message from Beijing. But we don’t know what it said.”

“I do,” Adams asserted. His colleagues looked surprised. “It was sent over five hundred years ago from the Chinese Emperor to Admiral Zheng He in the Indian Ocean. It said, ‘Return at once.’ When he got back, the Emperor burned the fleet and almost every record of its great expeditions. Later, the Emperor relented and let him go to Mecca on the hajj…but without the fleet.”

Adams walked to the small podium sometimes used by briefers in the CIC. “Gentlemen, and ladies, here is the situation as I see it. We are unable to complete our mission to intercept the Chinese ships because they are either headed into port in Pakistan or have turned tail and are heading back to China.

“On the other hand, we have a CRITIC saying our headquarters in Bahrain has just been bombed, and we have intelligence that Iran has begun an amphibious assault on both Bahrain and Islamyah. I don’t need orders when I am told Americans are under attack.

“Captain Rucker, bring the Reagan about into the wind. Launch both Enforcer squadrons with full weapons loads across Oman toward Bahrain and Islamyah. Execute Plan Ten Zero Nine, as modified. Forty-third Squadron is to take out the Iranian Navy. Fortyfourth is to take out the Iranian coastal air and Navy bases. The U.S. Air Force Raptors in Oman will escort.

“Admiral Haggerty, get in touch with the Gulf allies. Tell them what we’re doing and ask them to execute, as planned in last week’s modification to Plan Ten Zero Nine. We will recover the Enforcers in Qatar, refuel, and rearm. That wing of new Super F-16s the Emirates have, they will be flying over Hormuz as we go through. If anything moves on the Iranian islands, they’ll pickle it.

“Captain Hardy, terminate the deception operations. Let’s light up the battle group’s electronics and let the Iranians know we’re coming.

“All right, everybody. Any questions?” Adams almost yelled. A loud “No, sir” rang in CIC. “Then let’s go to war. Captain Rucker, strike the battle ensign.”

The lights on the tower of the Reagan lit up, its radars began to spin, a horn rang out, and a small blue flag covered in five-pointed white stars was run up the flag mast. The huge ship lurched forward, accelerated, and began to execute a U-turn, spreading a giant curving wake behind it. Giant elevators rose from below, carrying aircraft to the flight deck. Men and women in brightly colored jumpsuits ran to the planes, in red, in green, yellow, purple…

Back in CIC, Captain Hardy waited until Adams had walked around the command center, checking on the execution of his orders, patting the seamen on their shoulders. Then Hardy quietly asked the Fifth Fleet commander, “What modification to the plan?”

“The one the Gulf allies got from me last week,” Adams mumbled while reading a message board. “The one approved at CENTCOM headquarters by General Bobby Doyle.”

“Not by the CinC, General Moore?” Hardy asked.

“Bobby’s the J-F. He can approve plans, Johnny.” Adams smiled.

“And did you also arrange to have the entire goddamn Indian Navy, including its two little aircraft carriers, sortie out to trap the Chinese in between our two fleets, Admiral?” Captain Hardy whispered back.

“You overestimate me, Johnny. I think maybe Secretary Conrad had that little maneuver planned. God only knows what he gave them to do it.” The admiral laughed as he handed Hardy the message board. “But that’s not why the Chinese turned back. Look at the message traffic. The government of the Islamic Republic of Islamyah formally requested that the Chinese terminate their military assistance program and withdraw all Chinese military personnel. Abdullah bin Rashid’s office announced it publicly late last night!”

“No fuckin’ way — ah, excuse my French, sir,” Hardy said, flustered.

Admiral Haggerty joined the discussion. “Looks like I missed something. Anyway… Admiral Adams, shall I send a message to Tampa and Washington telling them what we’re doing?”

“Of course, Frank, that’s standard operating procedure. And we always follow standard operating procedure. Bring it to me to sign out,” he said, looking at his watch, “in about a half hour or so. I’m going out to watch the air wing launch. Maybe after that.”

Haggerty and Rucker both laughed. Haggerty saluted. “Aye, aye, sir.”

The Iranians may bomb the Ministry of Defense, but I doubt they will attack this bank,” the Bahraini Defense Minister, General Ibrahim, said to Brian Douglas. “And from here we have good lines of sight and communication.” Behind him, soldiers were connecting radios and telephones, setting up long-range telescopes and television monitors. Below, in the city, Brian could see fires and smoke rising from several locations throughout the area, where the predawn Iranian air raid had penetrated the Bahraini air defenses.

“We are protecting the mouth of the port with patrol craft, divers, our frigate, and a U.S. cutter. And we and the Americans laid a minefield last night. The Americans SEALs are assisting. They did not sail away with everything,” the Bahraini general said, pointing to the east.

“How much damage did the Iranians do at the air base?” Douglas asked. Sheik Issa Air Base was behind them to the south, a view blocked from where they stood.

“Pretty bad, but we had rolled some of our F-16s off the base and moved others to the corners of the International Airport, so we still have eight or nine F-16s operational,” the Bahraini general admitted. “We expect the Iranian landing to be at the northern beach area, and that’s where I have most of the army. We have some American-built multiple launcher rocket systems, and I have them aimed there.”

The sky was turning from black to gray in the north, the direction from which the attack would come. In the east, fingers of light pink were appearing on the scattered clouds as the sun began to rise. “I have a visual. I can see their fleet,” an officer yelled in Arabic. Brian looked through his telescope. He could see through the midst the hulk of a destroyer and then a smaller warship to the west. Then, between the two, he saw water sprays, and below the sprays fast-moving hydrofoils laden with armored vehicles and trucks. “They will be within range in two minutes,” Ibrahim said. The sun broke the horizon and shone brightly, blinding those who looked east. Brian slipped on his polarized sunglasses just as the flying wedge of American F-35 Enforcers appeared from out of the sun. He swung the telescope around and focused in on the aircraft. They were smooth, with no external missiles, bombs, or fuel tanks. As he focused the lenses, missiles shot forward from inside the aircraft. To the north, Iranian MiG-29s appeared over the ships. To the west, the first wave of Bahraini rockets soared up from the MLRSes near the beach. Brian looked north again. Almost simultaneously, the Enforcers’ missiles hit several ships, the rockets from the beach smashed into other ships, and Iranian aircraft exploded in midair. Above and behind the Enforcers, a line of Air Force Raptors were firing on the MiGs. As he tried to make out Raptors, Brian saw an Enforcer explode, hit by a missile from one of the MiGs. Then the windows shook as something blew up at the mouth of the harbor. A ship had hit one of the mines.

“I guess the Iranians lacked the element of surprise,” Ibrahim said to Douglas, “thanks to you.”

“General, I’d say it’s beginning to look like maybe two of the three scorpions have been stopped at the gate,” Douglas replied.

From behind Ibrahim, another rocket volley shot up from the beach. “By the way, Brian, the Shi’a imam from their big mosque is on the beach urging on our troops, along with our Crown Prince,” the general said, giving himself a thumbs-up.

Sweeping west from behind the bank tower, Douglas saw the contrails of another group of Enforcers and Raptors speeding west. Iranian MiGs flew after them, firing missiles. Douglas turned to General Ibrahim. “What Churchill would have given for a view like this over London during the Battle of Britain!”

“May we fare as well as he did,” the general replied. “Inshallah.”

The windows shook again, and below them, a wing of the Bahraini palace exploded.

Meanwhile, off the coast, the bulk of the Iranian force was heading toward Islamyah’s beaches. Hovercraft carrying light armored vehicles and trucks flew just above the water and then just above the sand as they came ashore. Above Islamyah’s beaches, Iran’s MiGs and Sukhois were dogfighting again with the American- and Britishorigin fighters that Islamyah could still get to fly. What had been the Royal Saudi Air Force was significantly smaller in number now because of cannibalizing for parts, and the Iranians were winning the air combat by putting more fighters up than Islamyah could, even over its own territory.

Behind the hovercraft came rehabilitated amphibious landing craft, disgorging troops into the surf. Islamyah’s forces rained artillery and tank fire down on the landing zone with deadly results, but some Iranian troops were getting ashore and off the beaches. Islamyah had more shoreline to defend than Bahrain and so the defense forces were more spread out. Iranian special forces employing mini-subs and semisubmersibles were placing commandos ashore in port areas, their goal to seize control of facilities for Iranian ferries and Ro-Ros to dock.

It was not going well for Islamyah. The general in charge of the Protectors in the Eastern Province, in a bunker in Dhahran, was beginning to think he would have no choice but to order his units to fall back to regroup against the Iranians, when he received reports that several Iranian troop-carrying ships had just exploded offshore. Seconds later, Islamyah’s AWACS reported that another wave of Iranian fighters coming across the Gulf had also erupted.

What was going on? Islamyah’s forces were not responsible for this, the general knew. There were no solid radar images of any new Air Force units arriving. Who was killing the Iranians?

Then the Iranian flagship Zaros was reported hit. In his Dhahran bunker, the general turned to the chief of his battle staff, who grinned and said, “I just picked up their comms, sir. It’s Enforcers. Raptors.”

What was it the Americans said in those movies? The cavalry was coming?

The general nodded to himself. Yes. The cavalry had come. Al-Hamdu Lillah.