Shattered Trident (19 page)

Joanna was pouring coffee and almost dropped the pot. She did spill some, and had to force herself to carefully set it down before answering. “I don’t suppose the Indian government’s issued any statement about the South China Sea lately.”

“Not a one,” Kirkpatrick said calmly. “We should be so lucky. The latest sensor dump from
North Dakota
’s UUV shows
Chakra
sinking a Chinese tanker. You can pull it up and watch it later, if you have the time. You probably won’t. Squadron Fifteen says they are ninety-five percent certain of their analysis. Commander Mitchell’s crew came up with the same conclusion. That isn’t why I woke you up, though.”

Patterson had just started processing the implications of Indian involvement in the crisis. “What could be worse than that?”

Kirkpatrick pointed at the screen displaying the South and East China Seas. It was overlaid with the four subs’ patrol zones. “Commander Dobson’s boat,
Oklahoma City,
is up in the East China Sea, and he sent in a disturbing contact report that Squadron Fifteen just forwarded. He picked up a very faint submerged contact and spent almost an hour trying to close and get a better look. It moved off before he could identify it, but he is convinced that it was quieter than any Chinese boat or a Vietnamese Kilo.”

“He lost contact?” Patterson was surprised.
Los Angeles
subs had very capable sonar suites, and could maneuver quietly at speeds that would exhaust a diesel’s batteries in a few hours.

“Oh, he’s still looking,” Kirkpatrick explained. “In fact, according to Commodore Simonis, he’s pissed. He’s not used to losing. More to the point, this was the first indication…”

A naval officer, almost breathless, came up to the pair, stopping short, but then offering Kirkpatrick a sheet of paper. “Another sinking,” the officer explained, “the tanker
Da Ming Hu,
84,855 GRT, Chinese flagged, near Wenzhou, north of Taiwan.”

“That’s in Dobson’s patrol area,” Patterson remarked.

“The first one that far north, as well. Look,” he said, pointing to the Chinese fleet boundaries, “and the first one in the East Sea Fleet area.”

“So the Vietnamese … and the Indians have the southwest, and somebody else the northeast?” Patterson asked.

“Does Mongolia have submarines?”

“Don’t joke about it, Ray,” scolded Joanna.

“India seems about as likely,” Kirkpatrick countered. “And now somebody else? We don’t even know why Vietnam is fighting. The only thing India and Vietnam have in common is that they both see China as a threat. So who else doesn’t like China?”

“That’s a long list,” Joanna replied.

“Good point.” Already frowning, Kirkpatrick asked, “How do we know it’s only one more player?”

She didn’t bother giving the obvious answer. Patterson felt frustrated by being so clueless, and fearful for the future. If you don’t know where you are, it’s hard to know where you’ll end up.

She thought about the latest tanker to be sunk. The printout said 84,855 gross registered tons, deadweight tonnage 160,000 tons. Deadweight tonnage was a measure of a merchant ship’s carrying capacity.

Years of working on environmental issues kicked in. At a little more than seven barrels per ton, that meant something over a million barrels of crude oil was spreading though the East China Sea. The prevailing winds would carry the slick into the Pacific Ocean …

“Now you know why I called you in,” Kirkpatrick observed. “I’m forming a crisis team. You’re in charge, of course. I’ve already notified State, DoD, and CIA to send reps, and not low-level ones either. Also, you’re getting someone from the council of economic advisers. We have to know just how much pain China’s feeling. If you think of anybody else, don’t even bother asking me first, just grab them and fill me in when you can.”

She’d done this before, Joanna reminded herself. But she still felt chills. War was breaking out, and they didn’t even know who was fighting, or why. And she had to find answers.

“My charter is to give the president options to guide U.S. policy. I believe the best U.S. policy right now is to find out what the hell is going on.” Kirkpatrick sighed and took a long drag on his own coffee cup.

“You haven’t slept yet, have you?” she asked.

“No, and I have to brief the president at 0700 hours this morning. That gives you,” he glanced at his watch, “less than three hours to come up with intelligent suggestions for me to offer the president. Don’t be subtle. The rest of the world is going to start reacting to the sinkings very soon. Wake people up, reach out to anyone in the government you think can help. I’ll be back here at 0630.”

“Are you going to get some sleep, I hope?”

“No, I’ve got a few bodies of my own to exhume. If they have anything useful, you’ll be the second one to know.”

9

TIDINGS

31 August 2016

0700 Eastern Daylight Time

CNN Headline News

The two anchors on the CNN morning broadcast did their best to look grim. Happy faces were not appropriate to the news. “War has broken out off the coast of China, although so far a one-sided war, and a secret one.”

The image on the screen was frightening, but fascinating. “This was the Chinese-owned and -flagged tanker
Hai Tun Zuo,
en route from the Persian Gulf to Shanghai, loaded with over half a million barrels of crude oil.” The massive vessel, broken in two, listed drunkenly on the ocean’s surface. The two parts of the ship were enveloped by flames, fed by a dark black slick that spread out hundreds of meters. The bow and stern were elevated as the torn midsections took on water, exposing the red lower hull. The white upperworks on both parts were scorched and stained. Rescue ships stood off upwind from the oily black smoke that half-hid the shattered vessel.

“At a little before dawn local time,
Hai Tun Zuo
suffered a disastrous explosion, leaving her on fire and sinking. Normally, a disaster like this would have to be investigated and its cause determined, but this was not an isolated incident.”

A map replaced the burning tanker, with a flickering point of fire marking the ship’s location to the west of Hainan Island. The map then began to fill with other points of flame.

“In the past forty hours, over a dozen merchant ships, all Chinese tankers loaded with oil, have suffered deadly explosions, dotting the ocean with desperate calls for help. Naval experts all agree that someone has begun torpedoing Chinese tankers.”

The image shifted to show a white-painted rescue vessel with a red band angled across the bow and Chinese characters along the side. “China’s Maritime Safety Agency, responsible for search and rescue at sea, has mobilized its entire force to respond to the distressed vessels, any one of which is a major disaster. The Border Guard, a separate Chinese paramilitary force, is also assisting, as well as hurrying to the defense of other Chinese vessels.

“Other merchants have approached the distressed vessels and offered what aid they could, but the wrecked ships are often on fire, and many of the survivors require more medical care than the civilian ships can provide. In all the attacks so far, at least seventy merchant sailors are known to be dead or missing, with twice that many injured.”

Images of stretchers being carried away from a helicopter were replaced by a seated Chinese official, flanked by military officers. Chinese characters scrolled across the bottom of the screen. “Officials in Beijing have condemned the sinkings as ‘terrorism,’ but have refused to identify their attackers, or explain this refusal. The Chinese ambassador at the UN also declined to comment, and would not speculate on possible Chinese actions. The only conceivable reason for not naming the perpetrators of the sinkings is because the Chinese do not know who they are.

“Insurance rates are already rising, although so far only for ships headed for the new war zone. And within the last hour, Lloyd’s has announced it will no longer issue insurance for Chinese-owned or -flagged ships.

“The belligerents’ goal is obvious: to starve the world’s largest nation and fastest-growing economy of oil. Rumors of other measures, including cyber attacks against Chinese interests and sabotage of Chinese refineries, are circulating, but have not been confirmed.”

The Lloyd’s of London logo was replaced by shots of Chinese warships steaming in formation. “Although called ‘terrorism’ by the Chinese, no known terrorist group has the resources to operate even a single submarine, and naval experts agree that an attack on this scale would require several vessels. The U.S. Navy refused to speculate on the identity of the mystery subs, and categorically denied making any attacks. They would neither confirm nor deny the presence of U.S. submarines in the South China Sea. The White House is preparing a statement for release later in the day.”

The picture shifted back to the stricken tanker. “In the case of
Hai Tun Zuo,
the crew was able to send a distress call, and because her emergency beacon was activated, rescuers were able to arrive relatively quickly.” The camera panned over to a helicopter hovering while a sling was lowered to a bright orange lifeboat.

“Most of the twenty-three-man crew were rescued, but three are known dead and another five are still missing. Pushed by the prevailing winds and ocean currents, the slick is expected to arrive at the Leizhou Peninsula in a day or two.

“As of this morning, the Chinese are losing a war with a phantom submarine fleet. It remains to be seen if they can stop or even identify their enemy. Please stay tuned for further developments in this fast-moving crisis. A list of all the vessels attacked is available at our Web site.”

31 August 2016

0900 Local Time

By Water

Halifax, Nova Scotia

Mac had split off everything about the sinkings onto a new daughter blog. He’d also shelved all his projects in a desperate effort to keep up with the insane amount of traffic. It wasn’t the news of the sinkings themselves. There’d been eleven in the past twenty-four hours, and after the first three, he’d set up an online database to display what was reliably known: location, identity, casualties, and so forth.

He’d been very careful to post only official information, and that only after he’d thoroughly reviewed it. The Chinese government wasn’t obligated to tell the truth, after all.

War had not been declared, but truth had already become a casualty. His notoriety in the naval community was now working against him, as would-be contributors inundated him with rumors. Most were disappointed when they found out that their data was old, inaccurate, or just plain wrong, but they accepted it. Others were convinced of their information’s accuracy, gleaned from some “inside source” or “inspired deduction.” Those individuals would not take no for an answer, and accused him of being narrow-minded or biased, except for one person who accused him of being in the pay of the Chinese! Mac loved a good exchange of information via e-mails. These were nothing like a good exchange.

But he wouldn’t stop reading and answering his mail. There’d been a few gems. Reports of a fire at a Chinese shipyard had been confirmed indirectly by the local media. His correspondent at Lloyd’s had allowed him to break the news about suspending insurance on Chinese tankers. Christine had appreciated his phone call on that one, although she’d acquired the same information only moments after he did.

Now he was calling her again. She’d given him her cell number, because she was so rarely in her office. “Mac!” She sounded rushed, but also pleased. “What news by the water?” she joked.

“It’s about
Vinaship Sea
.”

“That’s last week, Mac.” She sounded a little disappointed. “Have you seen the news today?”

“I won’t dignify that with an answer,” he huffed, but both knew he was joking. “There is a connection, Christine.”

“What? I may not be an expert, but
Vinaship Sea
was Vietnamese, and it wasn’t a tanker.”

“Bear with me for a moment.” Mac spoke quickly. “I’ve had several correspondents in Asia tell me about information that’s being leaked on Chinese blogs and Web sites, probably by a government office or the intelligence service. It claims to be a list of
Vinaship Sea
’
s
actual cargo—a surface-to-air missile battery, anti-aircraft guns, and ammunition, all destined for the Spratly Island chain.”

“That would explain the large explosion!” she remarked, almost happily.

“That part fits, but more important than that is her destination,” Mac explained. “I’ve plotted her course based on the new information, and it matches the location where she was sunk perfectly. The Vietnamese lied about her destination, and even filed false position reports. So if she was torpedoed, it had to be by someone who knew her true position.”

“And the Chinese knew,” she concluded. “Doesn’t this mean the Chinese are saying they sank the ship?”

“Indirectly, yes. The Spratly Islands are contested by Vietnam and China, among others. If Vietnam was secretly moving arms to the area, China may have decided to stop them just as secretly. And now they want other people to know.”

“So the tanker sinkings are payback by Vietnam?” She sounded skeptical. “That’s a lot of revenge for losing one ship.”

“And it’s also a lot more ships than the Vietnamese Navy could possibly sink. They only have three diesel-electric submarines. We did the math. You need a lot more than three.”

“So probably the Vietnamese and almost certainly some other navy are trying to damage China’s economy by sinking tankers.” She paused, then said, “That’s not a real strong headline.”

“It’s more than you knew five minutes ago,” he countered. “How about, ‘A Secret International Conspiracy, Aligned Against China’?”

“That sounds much better. I’ll have to rush, but we can probably get this into the next hourly feed. Please send me what you’ve got. And I’ll make sure your name gets mentioned.”

He pressed a key. “You have it.”