“Sir?” Naamah had gone to the lifts on the left hand side of the lobby and called one in. It was open and waiting. Ramsey
Chalk stepped in and felt the red-painted doors close behind him as Naamah took him into the basement of the National Security Building.
Bridge, USS Austin LPD-4, Eastern Mediterranean
“Gentlemen, we have a serious situation. I am afraid I have to confirm what you have almost certainly heard via the ship’s bush telegraph. Just over an hour ago, an RB-58 belonging to Strategic Aerospace Command was shot down by Caliphate forces. As far as we are aware, the crew ejected safely and are somewhere in the Sinai desert, our best estimate is no more than ten or twelve miles inland.”
“Right then.” Commander Thomas stood up. “I’ll roust out the boys and we’ll be on our way. It’s getting near dusk, we’ll insert just after sundown, that’s when people’s eyes will still be adjusted to daylight and they won’t be seeing right. Captain, please flood the docking bay and we’ll be out of your hair.”
“Commander Thomas, there are a couple of problems.” Captain Pickering’s mask slipped and the anger showed up from under. “I have received orders from the Attorney General not to undertake any rescue operations or to conduct any hostile actions against forces deployed by the Caliphate.”
There was an explosion around the bridge. “Gentlemen, please. Firstly I doubt the legality of this order. I do not believe that the Attorney General has the authority to issue such an order. In the event, I am advising you as Captain of this vessel that this order is null and void. I have conferred with the commander of this amphibious warfare group and the Captains of the other ships and we are of one mind. Commander Thomas, I am ordering you to prepare and execute a rescue plan as per your standing operational procedures. If there is any fall-out from that order, it will begin and end with the Admiral and the Captains.
“That brings me to the second point. We are close in to a major Caliphate base area, Gaza. We don’t know what they have there, that’s what the aircraft SAC lost was trying to find out. One thing we do know, they have something new and nasty in stock. We haven’t lost a bomber in combat since The Big One almost twenty years ago. SAC has never claimed its bombers are invulnerable, merely that trying to shoot one down is incredibly foolish. The Caliphate has been incredibly foolish and the problem is, we don’t know how they did it. Whatever is in there brought down a B-58 so it’s dangerous. As another result, we don’t know what SAC have in mind for retaliation, we may have to pull you out fast, regardless of whether you’ve found the missing crew.”
“Captain Pickering Sir, standing orders are, when aircrew down are in enemy territory, we have to go in and get them. They say nothing about us having to come out.”
“Understood Commander, but you will be very close to a major enemy base. The opposition is likely to be very severe. I do not criticize the quality of your SEALS but you are twelve men, you could be facing a regiment or a division or more.”
“So we’ll have them outnumbered. “ Thomas grinned. “Captain, if we get into a shooting-match, we’ve failed anyway. Do this right, the Caffs will never even know we were there.”
“Don’t underestimate the opposition Commander. It’s not just the Caffs we have to worry about. Model’s Janissaries are in Gaza and they are the toughest survivors of a very tough bunch. They know we’ll extract by sea, so they’ll try to block the beaches. Getting in might not be a problem but getting out will be.”
“Not if we hold the beach first Sir.” Lieutenant Colonel Soren cut in. “We’ve got a battalion landing team here, infantry, tanks, artillery. After Jeffs taken his hooligans in, we’ll seize a beach-head and hold it. That way, he’ll have a secure base to fall back on. And the more of us who take part in this, the less likely we are to all get court-martialed.”
A ripple of laughter spread around the bridge. “Good, Colonel, make it so. You are in command of the landing force so make up a plan and I’ll forward it to the Admiral. We haven’t got much time so we’re going to have to work this one out this on the run as it were. Damn, I wish we had some air support we could rely on. Until we find out what brought down that RB-58, we can’t put helicopters too close to Gaza. Wait one.”
A signalman came onto the bridge from the radio room. Captain Pickering read the flimsy and relaxed slightly. Sanity was returning to the world.
“People, change in situation. This is a message from the CNO, Admiral Theodore, via Commander Mediterranean Fleet, Admiral Mahan. By Presidential directive the orders forbidding a rescue attempt are countermanded and canceled. For our information, Ramsey Chalk and Robert McNorman have both been relieved of their offices. President Johnson has ordered that the missing aircrew be rescued by whatever means necessary. Admiral Mahan has delegated command of the rescue operation to this amphibious group. For our information, the Shiloh and Enterprise battlegroups are merging and closing on our position to cover us. The Bull Run and Seven Pines battlegroups are entering the Mediterranean at flank speed to reinforce us. When they arrive, there will be ten carriers in the Eastern Mediterranean. That leaves the Atlantic bare but that’s no great worry.
“Gentlemen. We’re cleared to do what we were going to do anyway. A final note from Admiral Mahan. He reminds us that if we fail to rescue these men, there are postings enough in Alaska for us all. Good luck, and God Speed.”
Magasay Palace, Manila, Philippines
“Damn, I knew it was going to happen. It’s been hanging over us for five years now.”
Sir Eric Haohoa looked at the Ambassador. She’d let her guard down and her voice had contained a mixture of annoyance, amusement and relief.
“How so Ma’am?”
“The Americans. We owe them much for the help they gave us during the start of the Burma Campaign. Now they are calling in the debt. One of their bombers has been shot down.”
“Good God! Which country has ceased to exist?”
“They are all still with us. For the moment anyway. The Americans are concerned, they are not sure how their bomber was brought down. They know it was a missile of some sort, almost certainly one supplied by Chipan, but they do not know the details of how it made the intercept. So they want us to find out for them.”
“How can we do that ma’am? Our intelligence on Chipan is mostly political, very good political, but political none the less.
Our sources on military systems are much less comprehensive. Most of our well-placed informants were killed during the Showa Restoration Coup. As for technical capability, we are at least a decade behind the Americans if not more. We still import all our most advanced military technology from them. How do they expect us to get information that they cannot even guess at? I think their demand is unreasonable.”
“Perhaps. Let us put that to one side for a moment. Now let us proceed to a quite unrelated matter. We have received another communication from Admiral Soriva in Taiwan. He is quite desperate to find a source of supply for military equipment, especially aircraft and armored vehicles. He is keen to buy Gnats from India plus Monash II tanks and Nulla long-range artillery from Australia. Previously we have ignored such requests.”
A light bulb went on in Sir Eric’s head. “The Americans want us to agree to the sale of military equipment provided Admiral Soriva gives us the technical information they need! He’ll never agree to that, he may be in a state of rebellion against the Tokyo government but he’s a loyal Japanese officer, he won’t hand over classified information. Anyway, how can Taiwan afford equipment on the scale he’s speaking about?”