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Authors: Larry Bond

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Komamura’s own words frightened him. “And how will the alliance make them public?” he continued. “A secret deterrent is useless. How many weapons do we need to have a credible deterrent against an established nuclear superpower?”

He paused, then shook his head. “No, China will never let us get that far. Even if they don’t discover the program before it becomes operational, the moment the alliance announces it has nuclear weapons, the Chinese will have to strike!”

Hisagi and Orihara both looked grim. The minister replied respectfully, but firmly. “Your arguments, and more, were debated at length, and the decision was made by our national leaders, as is their duty.

“This is at least in part because of your work,
sensei
. As long as we were willing to let America guarantee our security, Japan could limit her armed forces. If we are to stand by ourselves now, as part of a military alliance, then we should build whatever we need for a proper defense.”

“Please, let me speak to the prime minister,” Komamura pleaded.

“What will you do, question his heritage as well?” Orihara responded harshly. “Put your skills to work and show us a way to break the Chinese economy. If we can do that quickly enough, then all of this is moot. One more opinion will not change anything. Events have moved forward. There is no looking back.”

13 September 2016

1300 Local Time

By Water

Halifax, Nova Scotia

He titled the piece “Shattered Trident.” Christine’s source, whom he’d dubbed “Deep Voice,” didn’t send something every day, but everything he sent was a blockbuster. The latest one had arrived less than three hours ago, and Christine was waiting for him to proof and polish the piece before giving it to her.

There. He always forced himself to read completely through each posting one final time before sending it. With the last few corrections made, he hit the “Send” link and checked his watch.

She’d use the text he wrote almost verbatim, now that she’d given him a few journalism tutorials, but she’d still have to assemble the “visuals.” That probably meant the 4:00
P.M.
feed. He wouldn’t post the article until then. Their arrangement was simple. CNN was the source, so CNN got the scoop.

All the news channels, and probably many of the intelligence services, now watched his blog closely. He wasn’t the only source of information about the war, but he had broken enough stories now so that he was a known authority—an authority with excellent sources.

This article would only reinforce his blog’s status. Laird’s source had given them The Plan: a complete copy of the Chinese operations order for something called “Trident.” While the military details were fascinating, the underlying purpose and goal were frightening. It was bad enough that China had intended to seize most of the disputed territory in the South China Sea by force, but beyond that, those in the East China Sea, and then the Yellow Sea. China’s leaders had big ambitions.

What if the plan had succeeded? He tried to imagine the entire western Pacific under Communist Chinese hegemony. This posting would change the world’s attitude about China. It could have as much effect on China’s fortunes as a traditional bombing campaign.

He’d better proofread it again.

As Mac read, he imagined what the Chinese spokesman would say. It was certain that they’d be barraged with questions, just as the Littoral Alliance spokesman had been besieged after his last major release. A detailed analysis of China’s oil infrastructure and its impact on the economy had spiked Littoral Alliance claims of imminent victory, changing the public debate almost overnight. He imagined that was Deep Voice’s real goal, although Mac couldn’t see that the pronouncements by the two warring factions had improved. Each side just used what it wanted and ignored any inconvenient facts.

13 September 2016

1430 Local Time

Pearl Harbor-Hickam Joint Base

Hawaii

Commander Garcia, the sub base XO, met Patterson’s plane at Hickam with a private car. During the five-minute ride to the sub base, he briefed her on the security. “With the war, we were already at a very high level. The special weapons requirements are on top of that, of course, but they’re not attracting the kind of attention they would normally.”

Even as he described them, the car stopped at the gate to the part of Pearl Harbor that housed the sub base. A marine sentry examined all their identification thoroughly while a dog handler walked around the car. They even checked the trunk and searched her overnight bag.

The techs had decided to do the work at the base’s torpedo shop. While moving twelve nuclear warheads from inactive storage was not a simple process, moving twelve Mark 48 torpedoes was even harder, and there simply wasn’t room at the special weapons shop for twelve torpedoes, each nearly twenty feet long and weighing almost two tons.

There was more security at the torpedo shop itself, the building literally surrounded with marines, weapons at the ready. And was that a machine-gun position?

More salutes, and more identity checks at the door, but at least she’d left her overnight bag in the car. Inside, she was greeted by Captain Marino, the sub base commander, and Colonel Thomas, head of the technical team. “My people will supervise loading the torpedoes onto each sub, and the arming.”

“Did you have any problems with the authorization process?” she asked. She’d been briefed about the strict rules controlling what the United States called “special weapons.” There was the two-man rule, requiring that all work on a nuclear device, however trivial, be done by two people, and thoroughly documented, of course. Each weapon also had to be under positive control at all times. This meant that until it was to be launched at a target, a weapon was guarded at all times and could not be armed, which required authorization from the president.

Thomas explained, “President Myles has signed an executive order declaring that this use of nuclear weapons is not an attack on any country, but a ‘controlled detonation for peaceful purposes.’ The SECDEF has also verified the order. Each weapon will be prepped just before it’s put in the tube, in the presence of the sub’s captain, weapons officer, you, and myself.”

That was why she was there. She was the president’s personal representative. She carried the Permissive Action Link, or PAL security codes, for the nuclear warheads. This was definitely not the way things were done normally. But the submarines’ fire control system lacked the ability to insert the PAL code while at sea, so the codes would have to be manually entered just as the torpedo was loaded into the tube. Without a proper PAL code, a warhead could not be armed. It would be by her action that eight nuclear weapons would be detonated in the South and East China Seas. It didn’t seem quite real.

“Once we verify that the weapon is properly prepared, it goes in the tube and we padlock the tube door. The only way it leaves the tube is either by being fired, or offloaded when the sub returns to base. The captain and weapons officer of each sub will have access to the keys, in case of emergencies.”

“But the subs only have four torpedo tubes,” Patterson protested. “You’ll be tying up two of them until they get back to port. Can’t they wait to load them until they’re in position to fire?”

“Not and maintain positive control, ma’am. Too many people have access to the torpedo room. And we’ll be using three tubes, actually,” Thomas clarified. He ignored her alarmed expression.

“Each sub will have a third weapon as a spare, in case there’s a problem with either of the first two. So, yes, until they fire, they will only have one tube available for self-defense. But once they do shoot, they can unlock the tube doors and use them normally.”

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or more concerned. Of course, the four boats would not be looking for a fight when they sailed, but poor
Santa Fe
demonstrated that plans didn’t always work out.

They walked down the length of the shop, escorted by Warrant Four Harris, the officer in charge of the facility. The interior was crowded with not only navy torpedomen, but the nuclear weapons specialists of Thomas’s team. Complex mechanisms filled every corner of the shop. The sounds of different tools combined to form a constant background to their conversation.

Harris explained that the warhead sections from the torpedoes were easily removed and replaced with an exercise module. It was a straightforward process, and was covered by established maintenance procedures. “We normally separate the sections as part of a torpedo’s overhaul.”

“They fit?” Patterson asked. It was obvious they did, but she was curious.

Harris nodded. “Easily. We’re using W-80 warheads from Air Force B61 tactical nukes. The device is smaller in diameter and shorter, so volume isn’t an issue. It’s also not that far off weight-wise. The real challenge was securely mounting the warhead inside and then figuring out how to ballast the weapon so the torpedo’s center of gravity didn’t shift. That would have thrown the guidance completely off.”

They reached the far end of the shop, where the torpedoes already converted were being cased for shipment. Thomas said, “We’ll start loading the weapons onto the trucks shortly. There’s a C-17 prepped and waiting to take the weapons, you, my team, and our security detachment to Guam. If you’d like to rest, Warrant Officer Harris’s office—”

“That’s fine,” Patterson answered. “I’d like to stay here, if that’s all right. I’ll keep out of the way.” Maybe if she watched for a while, it would begin to sink in. She’d been going through the motions, doing what needed to be done, but the enormity of it all was overwhelming. She couldn’t decide if she was in shock or had just become numb.

She’d spent part of the flight out to Hawaii trying to determine more accurately how bad the environmental damage was going to be. Terms like “best case” and “conservative estimate” didn’t really seem appropriate. In the end, she could only draw broad limits around an unhappy answer, but the damage from the nuclear explosions was still going to be considerably less than what had already been inflicted by the sinking of nearly three dozen tankers. And then there was the political “fallout” that was likely to be just as devastating. But the war had already killed tens of thousands, and threatened to slip over the edge into a nuclear nightmare.

Any choice had costs. She could accept paying this price if it could stop a war.

 

24

PREPARATION

14 September 2016

0830 Local Time

Littoral Alliance Headquarters

Okutama, Nishitama District

Tokyo, Japan

Minister Hisagi and Admiral Orihara filed out of the Hirano estate’s dojo along with the rest of the alliance’s formal working group members. It had been a short meeting. There was little to discuss militarily. Attacks against Chinese merchant ships had fallen to almost zero, and those attacks that took place were very close to the Chinese coast, where defenses were more robust. The South Korean representative reported that they had lost one of their Type 214 submarines near Qingdao in the Yellow Sea.

Submarine attacks against Chinese deep-ocean semi-submersible oil rigs were also disappointing. Only one oil rig had been sunk, requiring four torpedoes before it finally capsized. Another two were seriously damaged. Although they were assessed as repairable, they had temporarily stopped pumping oil. Unfortunately, the PLAN responded quickly to this new avenue of attack and began forward-deploying ASW helicopters to the oil rigs. Freed from their responsibility of patrolling the shipping lanes, Chinese maritime patrol aircraft now concentrated their ASW searches near the drill sites, further complicating the approach for alliance submarines.

There had been no cruise missile strikes in the last two days, while the attacking ships and submarines returned to base to rearm. Orihara again emphasized that Project Ryusei would help to alleviate the gaps between cruise missile strikes. Of greater concern were the reports from South Korea and Vietnam that they were running low on land-attack cruise missiles. The Korean representative said the production of the Hyunmoo 3 missiles had been stepped up, but it would be at least two weeks before the alliance would see an appreciable increase in their inventory. India promised to see what they could do to resupply Vietnam with 3M-14E Klub land-attack missiles. Unfortunately, a significant number of India’s stock had been expended in the opening attacks against the Pakistanis.

There was good news from the Vietnam front. Thanks to India’s transfer of two Su-30MKI Flanker squadrons, the Chinese Air Force had suffered considerable losses to their frontline air regiments. When combined with classic Vietnamese SAM traps, Chinese ground-support air strikes had been reduced by nearly half. Deprived of adequate air support, the Chinese Army’s advance had slowed significantly.

The working group took the “good news/bad news” update brief with guarded optimism, but the topic of discussion had nothing to do with the execution of the war. No, it dealt with the growing civil unrest in several Littoral Alliance nations. Tokyo, Seoul, Taipei, and Hanoi had all had large civilian demonstrations demanding an end to hostilities. Much of the anger behind the protests was directly tied to the Chinese ballistic missile attacks on the capital cities, but a number of Internet blogs and social networking sites were throwing gasoline on the fire. One Japanese Web site had leaked the existence of the Beidou jamming system, and claimed the military was using the civilian population as a shield. Hisagi was incensed.

“The individual responsible should be tried for treason,” he hissed.

Orihara laughed cynically. “The leak was undoubtedly a Chinese information operation targeted against the people of our nations’ capitals. They either discovered or deduced the countermeasure we put in place, and are now trying to shift the blame on to us for the civilian deaths.”

“The Internet is proving to be a curse,” Hisagi grumbled.

BOOK: Shattered Trident
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