Shattered Trident (37 page)
Komamura replied, “You have seen part of the way toward the goal, but are still intent on striking your opponent’s sword and shield. Better to strike at the man holding them. Weaken him quickly, and his blows will cease.” Komamura paused and took in all the delegates. “Time is against us, and our task is difficult. We have made the largest country on earth our enemy, and we must bring him down quickly.”
Admiral Park nodded. “Thank you, Professor. Your logic is indisputable.”
Nehru asked, “When will you be able to give us an updated estimate of the Chinese economic situation?”
Jetlagged as he was, the discussion had revived the professor. “I can tell you right now. I’ve kept in touch with my staff during the trip.” Komamura stood, as much to clear his head as to be better seen. “Our campaign is having effects. I expect to see rationing soon, the increased use of alternative fuel sources, and efforts to find new sources of oil from other countries. We know they have tried to buy more oil from Russia, so far unsuccessfully.”
“How will we know when they are near the breaking point?” Minister Hisagi asked.
“When their attempts to compensate for shortages are no longer effective,” Komamura responded quickly. It was the schoolbook answer, and he owed them a better explanation. “They won’t know themselves, until their increasingly desperate measures to make up for energy shortages cease to be effective. Spot shortages in food and energy will become widespread, leading to a rise in black market activity, civil unrest, and internal struggles for scarce resources.
“Internal security considerations will become an important factor in their decisions. The leadership will be under great stress, which will make their domestic political situation unstable and unpredictable. Their ability to reach consensus decisions, including a decision to cease hostilities, will be impaired. This will be the time of greatest danger.”
Komamura tried to hide his discomfort as he described the effects. He knew exactly what awaited the Chinese people if the Littoral Alliance was successful. It was hard to see hunger and hardship as a worthy goal. But there was more. This was what had kept him from sleeping on the plane. He hated himself, but he had to tell them.
“The Chinese government’s greatest nonmilitary energy priority in the short term will be the harvest, which has already begun in some places. Fuel stocks dedicated to that goal should have the highest targeting priority. Also, attacks by ‘other means’ should be concentrated here as well.” They all knew he meant spies, and sabotage.
“And how much longer?” Minister Nyguen’s tone was firm. The professor could tell he expected an answer. “We are bearing the brunt of the Chinese anger.”
Minister Hisagi countered, “We have all been attacked, and suffered damage.”
“Not by ballistic missiles or airstrikes! We also have armored formations massing across our border. We just want to know—must we plan again for an extended war?”
“China will probably reach a crisis point in about a month, but not less than three weeks,” Komamura replied carefully. That was his staff’s best estimate, and he agreed with their numbers. “That is an economist’s answer. I have told my staff to brief your intelligence people on what you call ‘indicators.’ They will know what to watch for. I encourage this working group to develop plans and policy to take advantage of the situation, whenever it appears. Other alliances have missed fleeting opportunities to seize victory.”
Nehru asked, “Are you still opposed to the United States joining our side in this struggle? Some here have proposed offering inducements to the Americans to join us, or at least stop interfering in our operations. Perhaps economic incentives could be found.”
Komamura fought the urge to answer immediately, and paused, as if considering the idea, but then responded, “We cannot replace the economic pull of China. There is also the widespread destruction that would come with open war, and the issue of nuclear weapons. These days, my nightmares are uranium-fueled.
“If more nations join the alliance,” he said, bowing slightly toward the Indonesian and Filipino tables, “our political strength will become a useful tool. China is seen as the aggressor now, and has few friends.
“Our task is to not only stop Chinese expansion in the South China Sea, but convince them that the cost of any future adventures will be more than they are willing to pay. They attacked because they thought we were weak and divided, but we have shown unexpected strength. That surprised and shocked the Chinese leaders, and we must continue to do so. Only such a shock will compel them to face the true situation, and make them cease their aggression.”
Komamura sat down, a little heavily, and first one delegate, then all of them, applauded. Surprised, embarrassed, he shook his head and motioned for them to stop. Nehru, smiling, led the applause for a few more moments, then as the minister spoke, it stopped immediately.
“Your leadership inspires us all, Professor. In keeping with your doctrine, can you provide our staff with a list of targets, based on your economic expertise?”
Komamura nodded tiredly. “Of course. And I will also include facilities that could help the Chinese compensate for their lack of oil.” Even as he said it, he hated what he was doing. But it was necessary.
7 September 2016
1600 Local Time
Luzon, Republic of the Philippines
The reporter was young, in her mid-twenties, and her wide-eyed excitement carried over into her report. She stood in front of a wide concrete tarmac, with the whine of jet engines a constant background to her narration.
“Today, Clark Air Base saw an amazing scene as U.S. fighters were joined by Japanese aircraft in reinforcing the Philippines’ air defenses.
“Following President Myles’s condemnation of the seizure of Spratly Island by the Chinese, the U.S. has promised to deploy air, ground, and naval units to the area to ‘guarantee the territorial integrity of its longtime ally and to deter further Chinese aggression.’” As she spoke, images flashed by of F-22 Raptors lined up at the air base, then supplies being unloaded at a port, and finally a U.S. aircraft carrier, in formation with other warships.
“As U.S. forces began arriving, and without any prior coordination, Japanese F-15Js entered Philippine airspace. According to a Philippine government spokesman, the Japanese reinforcements include not only a squadron of fighters, but patrol aircraft, surface-to-air missiles, engineers, and JDS
Kirishima,
an advanced Aegis destroyer with ballistic missile defense capabilities.” An image of the slab-sided warship cutting through the water at high speed appeared.
“In a related development, the U.S. secretary of state, Andrew Lloyd, gave a speech yesterday at Wesleyan University articulating the American position on the conflict. While he encouraged both sides to ‘find a path to peaceful resolution’ of the conflict, the speech also carried a blunt warning to China.”
A clip of Lloyd at a podium showed him speaking forcefully. “U.S. forces are deploying to guarantee the security of our longtime allies. There should be no misunderstanding about the dire consequences to China of further aggression.”
The reporter continued, “There has been no official communication between the Littoral Alliance and the United States, but an ad hoc conference between the on-scene commanders is taking place as I speak. These two onetime enemies, flying from a former battleground, must find a way to coexist in a volatile international situation and work toward the goal of guaranteeing Philippine security.”
16
DEPRESSION
7 September 2016
0500 Local Time
By Water
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Mac returned to his computer with a fresh steaming cup of coffee. It had been another long night, and he was still feeling a bit groggy. Looking out his office window, he could see the sun just peeking over the horizon. It was a glorious sunrise, with dazzling fiery oranges and deep reds. He frowned as the old adage “Red sky in morning, sailors take warning” popped into his mind. He’d have to check the weather forecast; it looked like a storm was brewing. But that would have to wait; there was a major blog entry he had to finish on the storm raging on the other side of the planet. Mac turned and looked again at the images on the flat-panel display. The photos of the two ships showed they’d both gone through hell.
The first photo was a crisp close-up shot of a Vietnamese Molniya-class guided missile boat, hull number HQ-380. The PTG had limped into port some four hours earlier, displaying incredible damage to the superstructure.
Hell, the entire superstructure has been practically stripped off,
Mac thought to himself, shaking his head. It was a miracle the little boat even made it back.
He shifted his gaze to the second photo. It had been taken from farther away, and while not as sharp, the ship was still easily identifiable. The Type 052C destroyer was under tow. Three huge blackened holes contrasted starkly with the pale gray hull. Streaks of soot along the upper decks spoke of a severe fire. Mac shuddered as he imagined the men desperately fighting the raging inferno. They had little choice; there is nowhere to run on a ship at sea. He took another sip of coffee before setting the cup down, his fingers slowly returning to the keyboard.
The Great Pacific War of 2016
Posted By: Mac
Subj: New – The Battle of Spratly Island
Evidence of a pitched naval engagement off the Vietnamese-claimed Spratly Island started to surface earlier this morning. According to eyewitness accounts, the Vietnamese Navy sortied one of their Russian-built Project 11661 Gepard 3.9 frigates with four Molniya (Project 1241.1/Tarantul V) guided-missile patrol boats in an attempt to relieve the garrison that was under siege from a PLAN amphibious assault force. Battle was joined late in the afternoon on 5 September and culminated in a massive exchange of missile fire. Patrol boat HQ-380 <
Vietnamese sources claim they sank four Chinese ships and crippled two others. While these claims have not been verified, a photo of the PLAN destroyer
Lanzhou,
DDG 170 (Luyang II class, Type 052C) <
This is, without a doubt, the largest naval battle of the missile age, with the Vietnamese squadron alone carrying 72 SS-N-25 Uran anti-ship missiles. Assuming the PLAN formation carried approximately the same number of YJ-62 and YJ-83 missiles, casualties on both sides would be significant. The losses the Vietnamese have suffered are consistent with this assumption. There are no reports of collateral damage; however, if a fishing boat were hit by any of the aforementioned missiles, it would be obliterated immediately. Only time will tell if any innocent civilian vessels fail to return to port.
Finished, he paused to read the entry one last time before posting. Suddenly, Mac felt cold. Here he was, writing a sterile, dispassionate article about the greatest sea battle since the Pacific campaign of World War II. And while it was his “job” to give as accurate a depiction as he could, he’d largely ignored the cost in human life. Undoubtedly several hundreds of sailors on both sides had perished in that incredibly short, but equally intense battle. When one added the loss of life from the two PLAN frigates and over thirty-six Chinese merchant ships that had been torpedoed, the grand total was somewhere on the order of two thousand souls. At first, the number “felt” small, then Mac remembered that the war was only in its ninth day and he hadn’t included any of the casualties on land. Depressed, Mac hit the “Post” button on the screen, and then went to the kitchen to find something to fortify his coffee.
7 September 2016
1915 Local Time
Squadron Fifteen Headquarters
Guam
Captain Glenn Jacobs hurried into the conference room and sat down by Simonis; he still had five minutes to spare. The commodore said nothing; he just took another sip from his insulated travel mug. Judging by the smell, he was drinking peppermint herbal tea.
“Good evening, Commodore,” greeted Jacobs.
“Is it, CSO?” Simonis grunted quietly.
“It’s no worse than the others.”
Simonis only snorted. He then looked around the room, taking roll of the required attendees. After the first pass, a frown appeared on his face. When he finished the second, he looked at his CSO with irritation. “Where’s the OPS officer?”
“Rich stopped by the comms shack. We’ve received a message from
Santa Fe
. He should be here in a couple of minutes.”
“About time Halsey reported in,” growled Simonis. “He’s been out of touch for nearly forty-eight hours. I was about to declare him missing.”
“Warren’s had a pretty rough time, Commodore. His boat’s material condition has been a challenge for the past year. She’s an old boat that needs an overhaul.”
Simonis sneered. Halsey wasn’t his favorite commanding officer—the man had problems keeping to the schedule and his boat always seemed to have mechanical issues at the most inconvenient time. Jacobs’s defense only irritated the commodore more. “You don’t hear Dobson complaining. And his boat is even older.”
“That’s true, sir, and while
Oklahoma City
isn’t fresh out of an overhaul, she also isn’t overdue for one either.”
Simonis let it go. There was no point in discussing the issue further. At that moment, Walker entered the conference room, walking briskly. He made a beeline to Simonis, a single piece of paper in his right hand.