Suddenly, the chief sonar operator jumped in his seat and placed both hands on his earphones. The tactical officer, who was holding an earphone over one ear said, “Sir, someone’s been hit by a missile or torpedo! Wait, there’s three more. Oh shit! Multiple detonations! Sir, the war has started!”
“Steady now, Lieutenant,” the captain was calm and reassuring. “Target the Shan with two torpedoes. Target the Jiangweis with one each. Target the Haiqing with one. Let’s keep one ready in case we get unexpected company. Prepare to fire.”
The boat’s torpedo tubes flooded with water in preparation for launch.
“Sir, I’m picking up more explosions. Sir, this isn’t good, two of our ships are no longer under way, we’ve lost contact.” When using passive sonar, the submarine relied on the noise produced by a vessel to make an identification of the ship’s type and location. While not perfect, especially in shallow coastal waters with the layers of salt and fresh, warm and cold water, modern tracking and processing equipment made the job much easier and more reliable.
“Transient to our rear! 1,500 meters!” The tactical officer was almost beside himself.
“Retarget four torpedoes on the new target area and fire when ready, then fire on the Shan after the first four torps are gone!” Hsaing directly addressed the enlisted weapons technician. Now the boat’s captain was excited. He wasn’t thinking of death, only of doing the job he was trained for as quickly and expertly as possible. “Go active at 750 meters and cut the wires!”
The boat softly trembled with the launching of the torpedoes. “Set the torpedoes for the Shan wake home at 2,500 meters. As soon as all torpedoes clear, launch three decoys and come about to 100 degrees, then slow to two knots and let’s find bottom.”
The boat shuddered twice more with the last two torpedoes.
“Sir, there’s two torpedoes in the water heading our way. Both from the same vicinity. I still hear nothing else. Pinging! One of the torpedoes is pinging for us! Pinging. We have two pinging for us!” The tactical officer was pressing the earphone so hard into his ear it looked as if he was going to crush the side of his head.
He resisted the urge to run. To order flank speed and make the noise that would make the enemy’s task of finding him and killing him that much easier. “Helm, all stop! Cut the power and drift to the bottom. We’ll hide in the mud.”
The tactical officer spoke, this time more calmly, “Sir, the torpedoes appear to be heading towards the decoys. Our torpedoes should start pinging soon.”
“Any read on what fired those torpedoes?” He almost wished it was one of the Kilos.
“No sir. We can hear nothing out there.” The tactical officer sounded sorry. “Our torpedoes are searching! I hear the pings.”
Maybe they’d get away this time, the Captain thought. Six shots off! Or, maybe we’ve landed the first blow to connect with the enemy in a long, long time…
“One of the inbounds has gone to continuous ping. It’s at 300 meters and closing!” The tactical officer was pleading with his captain, his eyes betraying fear.
“What’s the status of our torpedoes?” The Captain wanted his quarry.
“Still in search mode.”
“Drop four decoys! Hard right rudder, all ahead flank! Get to periscope depth. Come on, move it!” His only hope lay in rising rapidly to the layer of warmer and fresher surface water. Perhaps then the torpedo’s sonar return would be deflected or distorted enough that they could break its lock.
“It’s closing. 100 meters, sir.” The tactical officer was pale and quiet now, resigned to his fate.
Well, that was a quick war. The enemy torpedo struck aft. Its explosion shattered the boat’s hull. The pressure of 150 feet of water did the rest. There were no survivors.
The hijacked Il-76 combi jet (passenger and cargo) had touched down at 8:00 AM. The senior controller ordered the aircraft to proceed to the end of the runway (where the hijackers would either give up or be killed by the special security police).
The senior controller’s headache wasn’t any better. This flu was bad — might as well be at work. He felt too sick to enjoy the nice day. There was only a high cloud cover and it wasn’t supposed to rain for at least a day — or until that typhoon east of the Philippines started to affect the weather with increased humidity and scattered thunderstorms. The high was forecast at 88 degrees. Nice summer day. The pain in his skull brought him back to focus on work.
He radioed the hijacked aircraft. No reply. He had five flights stacked up waiting for approval to land. Better send them to CKS, this may take awhile. He had no need to tell security; they were already monitoring his communications with the aircraft.
The senior controller folded his hands behind his head and arched his back, looking out the top of the control tower window at the northern sky. He saw a flash. Simultaneously the control tower erupted in a bang as every radio spit sparks and the acrid smoke of burning wire insulation filled the air. “What the…? Get the fire extinguishers!”
The tower personnel were too busy to observe the Il-76. The aircraft rippled with small puffs of smoke. Fifty to one hundred yards away, small canisters began spewing smoke. A dozen grenade launchers had been attached to the aircraft. These devices, usually bolted to armored vehicles to quickly dispense smoke grenades in combat, were being employed instead to conduct a preemptive strike on the surrounding security forces. Some canisters held tear gas, others, the same agent used at almost the same instant some 20 miles to the west at CKS International Airport.
The leader of this commando team, a major, wanted to use non-persistent nerve agent in his assault. His request was vetoed by Beijing. First, Beijing wanted moral high ground of claiming (truthfully) that no lethal nuclear or chemical agents were used in its attack. Second, tear gas worked instantly, nerve agent took a few minutes. The commandos intended to be gone before anyone could react — they certainly didn’t have the time to be waiting around in chemical protective gear until the last policeman finished convulsing and died.
The cargo ramp at the rear of the Il-76 rapidly lowered. The surprised security police were scrambling to get their protective masks on. Some weren’t equipped and were already choking on their own mucus, violently retching and trying to get air. The ones lucky enough to get their masks on quickly had to blink back tears and could barely see to fire on the three armored cars that came racing out of the Il-76.
One security officer had only just arrived on the scene riding his motorcycle, an old, but reliable Yamaha. He stayed upwind from the spraying canisters and was soon shocked to see three Taiwanese LAV-150 Commando armored vehicles rolling down the aircraft’s ramp. What were these ROC Army vehicles doing in this “hijacked” aircraft? He tried to call base with the news. He didn’t know that the circuit boards in his state-of-the-art hand-held radio were destroyed by the high-altitude E-bomb attack.
Inside the second armored car, the major was quietly confident that all would go as planned. He was sure he could complete his mission. All he had to do was lead his team from Sungshan Airport downtown only 7.8 kilometers to the Presidential Building where they would arrest the so-called President of the Republic of China on Taiwan — or kill him while trying.