Fourth Crisis: The Battle for Taiwan (34 page)

BOOK: Fourth Crisis: The Battle for Taiwan
7.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The Paveway pierced the hangar roof and entered,
uninvited.
 
Its ton of high explosives detonated
and sparked the fueled airplane within.
 
The hangar burst, and wall and roof panels blew away and fell as leaves
caught in the wind.
 
Crackles echoed as
Chinese anti-aircraft batteries fired angrily and blindly into the clear
afternoon sky.

Li and the American watched the fireball rising from the
airport.
 
Neither man realized how close
they had come to a mushroom cloud rising over Taipei.
 
Tired of violence, Li rubbed his eyes.
 
He pictured his daughter and wife, and hoped
the surgical strike would help end the war and get him home.
 
Hoping the same, Captain Whidby methodically
powered down the laser designator-rangefinder and began its disassembly.

“Thanks for your hospitality,” Whidby said.

“Do you think it will all be over now?” Li asked the
American Marine.

“Chief Master Sergeant, it ain’t over until the fat lady sings
–an American idiom,” Whidby answered with a wink.

◊◊◊◊

Despite one gimpy shaft,
Liaoning
’s
turbines drove the giant to near 30 knots.
 
On picket guard were the destroyers
Harbin
and
Qingdao
, the frigates
Maanshan
,
Xiangfan
, and
Zigong
, as
well as several fast patrol boats.
 
They
formed a ring of protection around the Chinese aircraft carrier, training their
anti-ship missiles on the horizon.
 
Submarines
#286 and #342 struggled to keep up with the battle group, but were still available
to the Chinese admiral sitting high in
Liaoning
’s
armored superstructure.
 
One of the
group’s JZY-01 radar planes reported in.
 
It had detected surface contacts.
 
The Chinese ships turned toward the enemy and reported the Americans’
position to the mainland

The People’s Liberation Army fired East Winds.
 
The medium-range ballistic missiles were tasked
to saturate the area ahead of the American warships in order to corral and
channel them toward a freshly sown minefield.
 
It was the admiral’s plan that, as the Americans absorbed mine and
missile hits, shore- and carrier-based aircraft would finish them off.

◊◊◊◊

The horizon was colored twilight pink, even though the sky
still showed shades of dark blue and gleamed with hanging stars.
 
US Navy Task Force 24 had slowed for
replenishment some 300 miles from the Chinese carrier battle group, and the
oiler
Yukon
steamed alongside
Ronald Reagan
with wires and hoses
strung between the two big ships.
 
With
the transfer of aviation fuel and supplies complete, this link was
severed.
 
Yukon
peeled off and opened the distance.
 
Rear Admiral Kaylo watched from
Ronald Reagan
’s flag bridge.

A sailor delivered a message: The US submarine
California
had encountered and engaged
the Chinese carrier battle group 300 miles from
Ronald Reagan
’s current position.
 
Kaylo knew his combat air patrol had just knocked down a Chinese
maritime patrol aircraft as well.
 
With
the news from
California
, he was
certain they would be having full-blown combat by lunchtime.
 
He turned back to his planning table, which
displayed small blue models that represented the ships of the Task Force.
 
Ronald
Reagan
held the table’s center point.
 
The old mariner leaned over them.
 
Kaylo’s guided-missile ships—the frigate
Thach
; the destroyers
Gridley
,
Mahan
, and
Winston S. Churchill
; the cruiser
Lake Champlain
; and the littoral combat ship
Fort Worth
—were all arrayed around the supercarrier in a diamond
formation.
 
There were several green
models on the table as well, at the table’s east side; they represented
Essex
and the other amphibious assault
ships of the group.
 
In addition, at the
table’s northern edge lurked a small, blue submarine,
Connecticut
.
 
The sub steamed
at the forward edge of Kaylo’s armada.
 
Then the American rear admiral found one last small blue model and picked
it up.
 
This one was shaped like a modern
day
Monitor
: low to the waterline and
with a faceted castle.
 
It represented
Kaylo’s newest warship, the stealth guided-missile destroyer
Michael Monsoor
.
 
Kaylo placed
Michael Monsoor
next to
Connecticut
on the table as these two warships sailed on a special mission.
 
He went to the window and peered at the big
cruiser that steamed nearby.

Although his stateroom was nearby, just a few passageways
away,
Lake Champlain
’s tactical
action officer had fallen asleep in the combat information center, slumped at
the table next to the radio monitor.
 
Captain Ferlatto sat in CIC as well, sipping a cup of bug juice, the Navy’s
neon version of fruit punch.
 
He was
about to wake the sleeping officer when a clattering printer did it for
him.
 
The tactical action officer jumped
up, ripped the paper, and then wobbled.
 
The
sailors guffawed.
 
The TAO smiled,
blinked away sleep, and read.

“What’s up?” Ferlatto asked.

“Sir, Commander, Pacific Fleet has informed us of a Chinese
missile launch.
 
Initial plots have them
splashing down in our neighborhood.
 
We
should be picking them up any second now.”

Rear Admiral Kaylo ordered
Ronald Reagan
to come about and double back on her course, and also
notified the rest of the task force about the inbound enemy rockets.
 
The ships of the task force spread out to
give the supercarrier room and prepare for a coordinated wheeling
maneuver.
 
Ronald Reagan
slowed down for the turn while
Lake Champlain
’s radar began to scrutinize the Chinese attack.

In the guided missile cruiser’s CIC, Aegis presented a
frightening picture: lines extended from the belly of China and reached for the
American task force.
 
Each represented a ballistic
missile track.
 
Mesmerized by the scene, Captain
Ferlatto stood.

“My goodness,” was all Ferlatto could muster.

“Sir, SM-3s assigned to the outer kill basket,” the tactical
action officer told the captain.
 

Gridley
and
Mahan
’s weapons have been slaved to Aegis.”
 
The fire control station sported a block of
green lights.
 
Its technician called out:
“Weapons ready.”

“Fire at will,” Ferlatto said.
 
He was handed a telephone.
 
The American rear admiral planned to
reassemble the ships on the leeward side of the turn and land a few
airplanes.
 
Although Rear Admiral Kaylo
and the task force currently played defense, he also held a dagger behind his
back: the stealth destroyer
Michael
Monsoor
.

Michael Monsoor
steamed
at high speed.
 
Instead of riding the waves,
her pointed tumblehome hull pierced and broke them over the weather deck.
 
The foamy wash splashed her retracted deck
guns.
 
Half as big as the supercarrier,
Michael Monsoor
’s faceted hull absorbed
and refracted radar.
 
It sucked in seawater
that then piped around the ship to cool engine exhaust and electromechanical
systems, making
Michael Monsoor
nearly
invisible in most of the spectrum.
 
Riding shotgun 300 feet below
Monsoor
was another stealthy beast: the nuclear attack submarine
Connecticut
.
 
Both American
warships were tasked to outflank the Chinese group’s forward element and
attempt to sneak up on
Liaoning
.
 
A column of seawater erupted from atop
Michael Monsoor
’s black monolithic
superstructure.
 
Replacing bulky
antennas, the water column pulled in transmissions from
Lake Champlain
.
 
The report concerned
Thach
.
 
Michael
Monsoor
’s captain read that rising mines had
hit and damaged
Thach
,
and Chinese ballistic missiles continued their advance on the task force.
 
In
Michael
Monsoor
’s bridge/combat information center, a sailor announced that
Liaoning
’s electronic emissions had been
localized, and firing point procedures for the ship’s electromagnetic rail guns
were set in motion.

Horizontal sea doors on
Michael
Monsoor
’s forward gun vaults opened.
 
Barrels rose from the stealthy containers.

“Two bells,” the fire control technician announced.
 
“We’re charging now.”
 
Electricity coursed into capacitors—some 40
megajoules—and two horns sounded.
 
“Charge has stopped.”
 
A video
screen showed the stealth destroyer’s forward deck.

Michael Monsoor
’s
sea-search radar activated and fed targeting information to the fire control
computer.
 
The rail guns swung over.
 
Stabilized by gyroscopes against the pitch
and roll of the hull, the guns maintained a fixed point-of-aim.
 
The gunner closed the firing circuit, and electricity
shunted to magnets that lined the gun barrels.
 
With no telltale flash, recoil, or report, both
Michael Monsoor
’s deck guns discharged in unison.
 
The projectiles were already hypersonic when
they departed the gun bores.
 
They immediately
found GPS’s precise positioning service and adjusted their flight paths
accordingly.
 
The guns discharged
again.
 
Two more projectiles were sent at
the Chinese.

The frigate
Xiangfan
steamed at the outer edge of
Liaoning
’s
defenses.
 
Suddenly, something slammed
into her forecastle and shook the ship to her keel.
 
It pierced the forecastle’s steel and
penetrated to an ammunition elevator.
 
A
deep rumble emanated from within
Xiangfan
.
 
A massive explosive bulged and then ripped
open her decks.
 
Flame and smoke jetted to
the sky.
 
An accompanying torpedo boat
skimmed over on hydrofoils.
 
As it
neared, it slowed and settled back into the water.
 
Deckhands prepared to pluck several of the
burning ship’s sailors from the sea.
 
Chinese
diesel-electric submarine
#342
had surfaced,
and watched through her periscope.
 
Disgusted
and filled with hatred and the desire for revenge, the submarine dove again and
leveled out at 200 feet.
 
342
’s introduction to
Connecticut
was not a pleasant one:

“Submarine.
 
American.
 
Seawolf
-class.
 
Torpedo in the water.”
 
These were the last frantic words spoken
aboard the Chinese submarine...

Meanwhile, moving at over 1,000 miles-per-hour, Lieutenant
Pelletier pulled her Lightning II through 50,000 feet.
 
She flew at the outer boundary of
Ronald Reagan
’s air defense zone with
two Super Hornets flying lower and 20 miles behind her.
 
Pelletier kept her radar off and instead
pulled in data from the less stealthy Super Hornets.
 
A beeping drew her attention downward, where
several bogeys had shown up on the radar screen.
 
They failed to return identification.
 
Therefore, the computer immediately
reclassified the bogeys as bandits, and listed their approach altitude,
bearing, and speed.

Six of
Liaoning
’s
Flying Sharks rushed the Super Hornets.
 
The Chinese heavy fighters fired off Lightningbolts at extreme range.
 
The Super Hornets then fired back with their AMRAAM
air-to-air missiles.
 
Pelletier added
four of her own AMRAAMs to the Hornet’s counterstrike.
 
The missiles streaked off.
 
Their smoke and vapor trails lined the sky
and crisscrossed as they headed toward their opposing targets.
 
Pelletier hit the afterburner and maneuvered her
Lightning II to get in behind the Flying Sharks.
 
The Super Hornets continued their merge with
the raiders and prepared for the imminent arrival of enemy missiles.
 
Chaff bloomed behind both aircraft formations.

The Flying Sharks broke into two groups of three planes
each.
 
One group went high, the other,
low.
 
One of Pelletier’s missiles speared
a Flying Shark and the ones fired by the Super Hornets took out two more.
 
A Lightningbolt struck a Super Hornet and
zapped it from the sky.
 
Another of
Pelletier’s missiles detonated in the face of a Flying Shark, killing the pilot
and ripping the Chinese warplane’s nose off.
 
Confused by the multi-axis attack, the last two Flying Sharks dove to
gain speed.
 
They squirted chaff and
flares as they rolled over.
 
The Super
Hornets fired two Sidewinder heat-seekers as Pelletier brought her Lightning II
around.
 
Should the Sidewinders fail to
bring down the Chinese heavy fighters, Pelletier decided she would come in from
the side and fire her own close-in missiles.
 
The Sidewinders chased down the two Flying Sharks and practically flew
up their tailpipes before their warheads exploded.
 
Both Flying Sharks became burning balls that
somersaulted and ripped apart in the sky.
 
Pelletier looked around for parachutes, but spotted none.
 
One
airplane for six
, she counted.
 
Having lost one friend for six strangers, the cost was still too steep,
she determined, although the admiral would certainly be happy.
 
The Super Hornet peeled off for the
boat.
 
Pelletier turned to meet another one
that had already pulled tanker duty.

Other books

Cunt by Inga Muscio, Betty Dodson
Our Song by Ashley Bodette
Translator by Nina Schuyler
Sailing to Capri by Elizabeth Adler
Tiger's Quest by Houck, Colleen
Presumption of Guilt by Archer Mayor
Variable Star by Robert A HeinLein & Spider Robinson
Fearless by Francine Pascal
Caroline by Cynthia Wright