Empire Rising (51 page)

“How long will it take to clear the virus and restore our communication and tactical networks?”

There was a pained expression on the General's face as he answered. “It will take weeks to recover, Mr. President. All infected computers must be wiped clean—their hard drives erased, reformatted, and software reloaded. The IP links to other command centers and every unit in the field will have to be manually reentered.”

“How did this happen? We made an enormous investment in cyber warfare, and it was the one area we had supremacy over the Americans.”

“We
have
made an enormous investment,” General Cao replied, “and our command and control networks are impervious to outside attacks. However, we did not consider an attack from within, from inside the Great Hall of the People. That was our shortcoming.”

There was a momentary silence before Xiang turned to Admiral Tsou's image on the monitor. “What is the impact on the People's Liberation Army?”

Admiral Tsou replied, “All communication and tactical links are down, and the virus has also infected individual combat units, taking their IP voice circuits off-line. All of our newest, networked weapon systems are inoperative, leaving only legacy weapons, most of which have been destroyed by Tomahawk missiles and air strikes. As a result, America has control of the sky over Japan, protecting their Marine Expeditionary Forces, which are off-loading onto a beachhead on Honshu's eastern shore.

“Additionally, our submarine fleet has been devastated in only a few hours. It's hard to get a clear picture of what is occurring, but several of our submarines that have been sunk have relayed information via their emergency beacons on the surface. The American torpedoes can no longer be shut down by our submarine sonar pulse. It appears they are also now able to home on our submarines when they attempt to shut the torpedo down. The American fast attacks have sunk all of our submarines screening Honshu and have penetrated the Nansei Island chain, and they will soon cut off all reinforcements and supplies flowing onto the Japanese islands. If we don't react quickly, our troops on Japan will become stranded.”

There was a long silence as Xiang and the other Politburo members absorbed Admiral Tsou's words. America had defeated them. And if they didn't act soon, hundreds of thousands of men would become prisoners of war.

China must retreat.

Xiang's eyes moved around the table, surveying each member of the Politburo. Without asking, he saw the consent in their eyes. Xiang was about to address Admiral Tsou when Huan interjected.

“What about the PLA Air Force? If we sink
Reagan
and her escorts, can we continue the campaign?” There was desperation in Huan's voice.

“Yes and no,” Tsou answered. “The PLA Air Force has fared well thus far in our campaign against Taipei and Japan, but the main reason is because we have avoided engaging American aircraft and their carrier strike groups, attacking them with missiles instead. Our aircraft technology and pilot training are no match for that of the Americans. However, we have a significant numerical advantage, and if we commit the PLA Air Force to a direct assault on the
Reagan
Task Force, I believe we can overwhelm their defenses and destroy
Reagan
and her escorts, along with their amphibious ships. Unfortunately, we will suffer significant losses—several hundred aircraft—and only delay the inevitable.

“With American submarines controlling the water between China and Japan, we will be unable to ship adequate supplies to our forces in Japan; our airlift capacity is insufficient. Also, once the four Atlantic Fleet carriers arrive, we will lose control of the airspace again, since we can no longer prevent the carriers from approaching Japan. Our new missile systems and submarines that were supposed to keep the carriers away have been defeated.

“America's Marine combat units have already been transferred ashore, and although we can destroy their amphibious ships and whatever material remains aboard, we cannot dislodge the Marines from Honshu before the Atlantic Fleet carriers arrive. Once America has control of the airspace and is able to build an airfield for their Air Force to operate from and land Army units, it's over.”

“We must make America pay,” Huan replied, turning toward Xiang, “in every way possible. If we can sink yet another carrier strike group, then we should. It will help teach the Americans a lesson.” Huan paused, then revealed the true intent of his recommendation. “There will be severe political implications once the people learn we have been defeated and so many lives lost for nothing. However, if we can claim we have destroyed the entire American Pacific Fleet, it will soften the blow. We can even retool the intent of our offensive, ending America's domination of the Pacific.”

Xiang did not immediately respond, evaluating the situation and Huan's proposal. Finally, he sat up, his shoulders straight as he spoke to Admiral Tsou's image.

“Send orders to our PLA commanders through whatever communication circuits remain and begin their extraction from Japan. However, leave our units on Taipei. I will use our occupation of Taiwan as a bargaining chip during negotiations with the United States.”

Xiang paused for a moment, then continued. “Commit the PLA Air Force. Destroy the
Reagan
Task Force.”

Admiral Tsou acknowledged Xiang's order, then his image faded from the display. There was a painful silence in the conference room as the men around the table digested the sudden turn of events. Finally, Xiang stood to leave, as did the seven junior members and Huan. Xiang stepped into the hallway and Huan joined him at his side, the two men flanked by Cadre Department bodyguards, who had been waiting outside the conference room. As the four men headed down the corridor toward the president's office, Huan brought Xiang up to speed on what had occurred earlier that morning.

 

74

USS
RONALD REAGAN

Off the eastern shore of Honshu, Captain CJ Berger leaned forward in his chair on the Bridge of USS
Ronald Reagan
. His eyes scanned the video screens mounted below the Bridge windows as he listened to
Reagan
's strike controllers over the speaker by his chair. So far, things had been quiet in the air, and everything was proceeding smoothly ashore. The Marine Expeditionary Forces were incredibly efficient, rapidly off-loading their troops and equipment. All ground combat troops were ashore and their Harrier jets and Viper and Venom attack helicopters had been striking targets inland all morning. Within twenty-four hours, their remaining equipment would be off-loaded. In the meantime, it was the task force's job to protect the vulnerable amphibious ships. That responsibility fell largely on
Reagan
.

The Atlantic Fleet submarines had cleared a safe path to Honshu's shores, then expanded outward, preventing China's Navy from approaching close enough to become a threat. The PLA Air Force, however, was another matter. They fielded over one thousand fourth-generation fighters, while the
Reagan
Task Force, augmented by the Marine Joint Strike Fighters, mustered only ninety-six fighter aircraft, of which only half were on station. Three of
Reagan
's fighter squadrons, along with one of the Marine squadrons, were flying CAP—Combat Air Patrol—with one squadron on its way out to relieve and another squadron on its way back for replacement pilots and refueling. On the Flight Deck, the sixth squadron of
Reagan
's fighters were performing
hot-pump crew switch
—refueling with their jet engines still running, turning off an engine on one side of the aircraft long enough for the pilots to swap out.

Against potential Chinese air attack, the
Reagan
Task Force employed a layered defense. The aircraft were on the perimeter, with
Reagan
's escorts—only two cruisers and four destroyers—forming an inner ring, with
Reagan
and the amphibious ships in the center. The maximum range of Chinese air-to-surface missiles was debatable, but Intel's current estimate was that the range of the most capable missile variants was 150 miles. As a result,
Reagan
had established its Combat Air Patrol at 250 miles to allow time for their fighters to engage and destroy any inbound Chinese aircraft before they could launch their air-to-surface missiles.

Any Leakers—hostile aircraft that made it through
Reagan
's Combat Air Patrol—would be shot down by Standard SM-2 and extended-range SM-6 missiles launched by the task force's cruisers and destroyers. Any missiles launched by the Chinese jets would also be engaged with Standard missiles. And finally, if Chinese missiles made it past the SM-2s and SM-6s,
Reagan
and the other ships would employ their close-in Ship Self-Defense Systems, which on
Reagan
consisted of the ESSM and RAM missiles and the CIWS Gatling guns.

Berger preferred to have his Combat Air Patrol farther out, but the Air Warfare Commander aboard the Aegis cruiser USS
Chosin
had made the decision to pull them closer in. Their aircraft were already stretched thin at 250 miles. Thankfully, half of the task force's fighters were the new Joint Strike Fighters. They were extremely capable aircraft—on paper. None had been tested in combat. But that might soon change.

Berger's attention shifted from the video screens on the bulkhead to the speaker by his chair. The strike controllers were directing the squadron of Joint Strike Fighters returning to
Reagan
to turn around and head back out.

*   *   *

In
Reagan
's Combat Direction Center, Captain Debbie Kent watched airborne contacts populate her display. Their E-2C Hawkeyes, flying high above the task force, were transmitting tracks to the cruisers, destroyers, and carrier. Kent looked up from her console, examining one of the two eight-by-ten-foot displays on the Video Wall. It was littered with several hundred contacts streaming toward the
Reagan
Task Force from three directions—over Honshu and around the northern and southern ends of the island.

Kent waited as the E-2C Hawkeyes above queried the incoming aircraft using the IFF—Identification Friend or Foe—system. If they were friendly aircraft, the transponders aboard would transmit the correct response to the Hawkeyes' challenge.

The inbound icons began changing color, switching from yellow to red.

The aircraft were Hostile.

A few seconds later, the Air Warfare Commander's voice emanated from the speaker next to Kent. “Alpha Papa, this is Alpha Whiskey. Divide your CAP into three segments and engage incoming Hostiles. You are
Weapons Free
.”

Kent acknowledged the order, then relayed it to the Tactical Action Officer, who directed the strike controllers to begin vectoring their fighters toward the three streams of incoming aircraft. There were too many contacts for the strike controllers to individually assign to their aircraft, so targeting would be handed over to the pilots. This was going to turn into a free-for-all. She dropped her eyes to her Cooperative Engagement Capability display, reading the summary. There were over four hundred inbound aircraft: 4-to-1 odds.

This was not going to turn out well.

 

75

BEIJING

In the South Wing of the Great Hall, Christine leaned against the edge of the desk, checking her watch for the hundredth time. The last four hours had ticked by slowly, and she had spent the time alternately pacing the floor and leaning against the desk, periodically examining her captive to ensure she was still securely bound. The entire time, she worried the security guards would conduct another search. She had fumbled her way through the first one, but if they swung by again, she was done for. There was no way to hide her captive, taped to the chair. While she waited impatiently for lunchtime, her mind raced, reviewing her makeshift plan.

Earlier this morning, when she stepped from the communications center, she had pulled up the schematics of the Great Hall on the plasma panel, examining the locations of the security checkpoints, searching for an unguarded route out of the Great Hall. There were none. But in the process, she discovered there were no checkpoints between her and the Politburo's main offices in the heart of the South Wing. She couldn't make it
out
of the Great Hall.

But she could make it
in
.

She had a clear path to the president's office. She had no idea how effective the virus she had uploaded was, but she figured a pistol to the head of the right man could end this war. Even if it didn't, she could hold the man responsible for China's aggression accountable. It was a preposterous plan and at one point she almost laughed out loud. But she told herself repeatedly it could work. At the moment, her confidence was brittle but intact.

Glancing at her watch again, she decided it was time.

Christine examined her blouse, eyeing the woman's badge clipped to her lapel. There was no way the badge would pass close examination, but the picture on the badge was small and the hair color the same. As long as she kept moving at a decent pace, the dissimilarity between the picture on the badge and the woman wearing it shouldn't be noticeable. For good measure, however, she unfastened the highest button of her blouse, revealing the top of her ample, rounded breasts. Anything to keep people from comparing her face to her badge. She figured she had the men sufficiently distracted.

Retrieving the Glock from the top of the desk, she slid it into the woman's purse. She slung the purse over her left shoulder, leaving the top of the purse open so she could easily retrieve the pistol.

Badge. Purse. Glock.

She was ready.

After a final glance at her captive, Christine opened the door to the office, engaging the lock in the doorknob. Pulling the door shut behind her, she stepped into the corridor.