The Aden Effect (42 page)

“U.S. Navy warship, U.S. Navy warship, this is the People's Republic of China Navy destroyers
Harbin
and
Shenzen
responding to distress calls from a supertanker and the oil platforms. We are fifteen nautical miles from the tanker and will be landing forces on the oil platforms to protect them. Do not interfere with our assistance.”

“We're in a shit-storm now, aren't we, sir?” Bobby asked, his eyes as big as saucers in his round face.

“At least we created this one. Hand me that ship-to-ship.” Stark took the mike and sipped more coffee before speaking. “Chinese Navy ships, this is USS
Bennington
. Thank you, but we require no assistance from you. India Navy ship
Talwar
, we respectfully request your battle group's assistance in protecting American and Indian citizens on the oil platforms, over.”

“USS
Bennington
, this is Capt. Jayendra Dasgupta in INS
Talwar
, currently closing your position. We are available to assist you as requested.”

“
Talwar
, this is
Bennington
. I thank you very much for your assistance. Chinese Navy ships
Harbin
and
Shenzen
, we have indicated our ability to restore security to the area. We respectfully request that you move off and return to your convoy duties, over.”

“
Bennington
, this is
Harbin
. To avoid a U.S.-initiated incident, move away immediately while we secure the platforms. This is your only warning, over.”

The bridge was silent as its occupants awaited Stark's response. Stark shook his head to clear it. He, like most of the crew, had been awake for more than a full day. He felt momentarily faint and put his hand on Bobby's shoulder for support as the five other sailors on the bridge watched.

“I hope you don't mind helping an old man, Ensign Fisk.”

“Not at all, sir. We're all in this together . . . Captain.”

Stark smiled at him. “If I have this right, we have about half a minute. Give me your assessment, Ensign.”

Bobby brought up his binoculars and saw the two Chinese destroyers veering to port to block the
Bennington
.

“They must have been listening to our bridge-to-bridge and other transmissions. They've watched us and waited for the right time to outnumber us. The Indian ships are still out of range, so that time is now.”

“Very good, Ensign. So what do we need?”

“A carrier strike group would be good right about now, but all of our ships are in the Gulf or off Korea.”

“You're right. And the Chinese probably know that.”

The TAO called up to the bridge. “CO, we now have several aircraft behind us, approximately ten nautical miles and closing fast.”

“Sir,” Bobby said. “The
Talwar
class only has one helo. Who else is out there?”

Rather than answering, Stark clicked on the bridge-to-bridge radio. “Indian Navy Ship
Talwar
, this is USS
Bennington
. On behalf of the Indian citizens working there, we formally require immediate assistance from your strike group in securing the oil platforms from foreign incursion.”

“USS
Bennington
, this is
Talwar
. We have transmitted this incident to the
Viraat
Carrier Group, which is operating east of us and should arrive shortly to assert India's protection of its citizens and to assist you, over.”

Stark looked at Bobby and smiled. “One carrier group made to order, Ensign.”

He clicked on the mike again. “
Harbin
, we assume you are aware of the very kind offer from the Indian Navy. I ask you again to return to your convoy duties. This is
your
final warning, over.”

After a long pause, the radio crackled. “This is People's Republic of China Navy ships
Harbin
and
Shenzen
. We are returning to antipiracy patrol in the Gulf of Aden, out.”

Stark grinned at the others on the bridge. “Well, wasn't it nice of them to offer to help?” Then he turned serious again. “Okay, everyone, we still have a problem. According to this radar, the
Katya P
. is still on course for the platforms, and it's almost certainly carrying a load of explosives. If it hits a platform, an environmental catastrophe on the scale of BP's oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico will result. It's up to us to stop it. There's an auxiliary steering station aft in that ship. Ensign Fisk, get a team ready to board and work with us.”

“Sir, we don't have any bomb experts on board.”

“Bobby, Batwing took out their bridge, and I hope most of their people. It's up to your team to take out anyone left. Just get to the aft steering compartment, swing the rudder hard to starboard and secure it, then get out of there.”

“Sir, she's only fifteen miles away from the platforms. Even a rudder shift might not be enough.”

“Do it, then get back here ASAP for the next step.”

“Aye, sir.” The ship's phone rang before he could leave the bridge. Bobby hung up the phone and looked at Stark in consternation.

“What is it, Ensign?”

“That was Engineering, sir. We've been burning fuel fast. We're almost out.”

“How much do we have?”

“About thirty minutes at this speed.”

Stark pressed his fingers to his temples. In the chaos of the past day he had neglected to ask the most basic of ship operation questions—one that even the
Bennington
's CO knew to ask—how much fuel did they have?

Within a few minutes of the RHIBs coming alongside the
Katya P
., their VBSS teams had rappelled up each side and retaken the ship. They found a few dead Somali pirates in the ruins on the bridge, but otherwise the ship was deserted. They increased the ship's speed and turned it hard to starboard as ordered.

As the
Bennington
approached the tanker a nautical mile away in a port-to-port passing, Stark turned the ship 180 degrees to allow the VBSS teams to reboard. Bobby was out of breath when he got back to the bridge.

“Mission accomplished, sir. Ready for whatever's next.”

“Ensign Fisk has the conn,” Stark announced. “You ever hit anything, Bobby?”

“Uh, only a channel marker, sir. But this is my first deployment. Why do you ask? Uh-oh,” he exclaimed when he realized his CO's intent.

“All hands,” Stark called over the 1MC, “proceed immediately to the port side of the ship and stand by for collision to starboard.” The collision bell sounded as the crew complied.

The
Bennington
pulled up even with the oil tanker, then moved closer and closer as the few people remaining on the bridge watched in fascination.

“What's the distance, Conn?”

Bobby shouted, “Two hundred feet,” as he steadied the range finder.

“Call out every thirty feet. Helm, steady on course at one-five knots.”

The
Bennington
passed the tanker's superstructure.

“One hundred seventy feet . . . one hundred forty feet . . . one hundred ten feet.” The
Bennington
was now dangerously close to touching the tanker, and a vortex began developing between the two ships. The cruiser was nearly at the bow of the tanker. “Eighty feet . . . fifty feet . . .”

“All hands, brace for collision!” Stark called out. “Right standard rudder, starboard engine ahead one-third, port engine ahead full! Bobby, get the hell in here.”

Bobby dove in from the bridge wing just in time to hear the sickening sound of metal on metal, far louder and more painful to his ears than hitting the channel marker had been.

“Helm, stick us to them. Right full rudder. Bobby, get a damage control report from the bow. Make sure our landing was soft enough.”

“Aye, sir.”

Slowly, the whale of a supertanker turned, the
Bennington
acting as a giant tugboat. The Navy ship shuddered and began to lose way as one of its great screws stopped churning.

“NAV, how are we doing?”

“Projected course now due east of the platforms. We're in the clear, sir.”

“Keep us with her, helm. All right, we need fuel, and I need ideas, no matter how crazy they sound.”

“Sir?” Bobby Fisk chimed in. “I read something in
Proceedings
,” referring to the monthly publication of the 140-year-old Naval Institute, “about a procedure where a Military Sealift Command ship was refueled by a tanker. I asked BM1 Garcia in my division about it when I was working on my quals, and he told me that it works only with the newer tankers. Older tankers burn heavy fuel oil that's incompatible with our engines. I checked the registry, and the
Katya P
. is only two years old, which means she has multifuel burners.”

“And?”

“Garcia's a qualified rig captain, and we can do a stern-to-bow transfer instead of the traditional UNREP.”

“Make it happen, Ensign.”

A few minutes later, Stark watched from the bridge wing as Hessian 2 motored toward the tanker. Ensign Fisk and a boatswain's mate sat huddled together over a naval ship technical manual trying to figure out exactly how they would do what the ensign had just told the CO he could do.

Hours later, when the tanker was well clear of the platforms and the
Bennington
had enough fuel to continue its mission, a crew took control of the
Katya P
. to return it to its owners. Back on the bridge, Bobby Fisk asked his skipper a nagging question about the engagement.

“Sir, we never got verification of the
Viraat
Carrier Group. Shouldn't they have arrived by now?”

Stark laughed. “I've been waiting for you to ask. How much of your naval history do you remember from the Academy, Ensign?”

“Sir?”

“Battle of the River Plate, 1939.”

Bobby searched his memory.
South America . . . early World War II, before Pearl Harbor . . . Got it
! “The German pocket battleship
Graf Spee
was in a neutral port—Montevideo—and three smaller British ships—
Achilles, Ajax
, and
Exeter
—were waiting for her to come out. The
Graf Spee
was going to engage, but then the British ships contacted a larger strike force over the horizon and the
Graf Spee
intercepted the message. Instead of coming out, the skipper scuttled the battleship.” Relieved that he had managed to pull that out, Bobby swore to read more naval history in the future.

“What about the British force?” Stark asked.

“It didn't exist. They were false messages sent out to deceive the
Graf Spee
. It worked . . . just like today.”

“Just like today,” the captain said. “Almost. We had help from two Highland Maritime ships and their helos.”

“But how did the Indian ship know to do that?”

“Be grateful to Ambassador Sumner. She worked it out with the Indian ambassador. I spoke with the Indian naval attaché a couple of days ago in Sana'a before he boarded the
Talwar
, and he agreed to step in and help if we were outnumbered. Fortunately, he had studied the
Graf Spee
incident as well.”