A few seconds later, another deafening explosion rocked the ship and knocked the crew to their knees. Suffering from shock, the crew moved to the port side and struggled with another lifeboat. They stopped when they heard the first sounds of helicopters approaching the ship.
Two SH-60B Seahawks arrived overhead Kapitan Zhirnovsky. The cruiser USS Princeton and the destroyer USS Benfold raced at flank speed to reach the stricken vessel.
As the helicopters slowed to a hover, both navy rescue swimmers motioned for the crewmen to abandon the badly listing ship and swim clear. Panicked, the men again tried to launch a lifeboat. They stopped when seawater began sloshing over the main deck.
The cargo ship was in the final throes of dying when a third Sea-hawk helicopter arrived. With little warning, the Kapitan Zhirnovsky commenced a very slow roll to port and began to slip below the waves. A minute later, the bow dipped beneath the ocean and the stern rose out of the water.
The crew, with no other option, umped into the water and swam as hard as they could to get away from their ship. One at a time, the three helos dropped down to rescue survivors, until there was only one man left. When the SH-60B moved in closer to the crewman, the Kapitan Zhirnovsky exploded a final time as the trapped air and gases blew the stern open.
The huge concussion rocked the helicopter and forced the pilot to make another approach. The ship disappeared under the ocean while the helo hoisted the sailor aboard. With all the survivors safely in the helicopters, the Seahawks set course for USS Abraham Lincoln.
When Scott cleared the taxiway and brought the Harrier to a smooth halt next to their spare TAV-8B, he and Jackie noticed Juanita Trujillo patiently waiting for them. The slight woman appeared to be relaxed and unaffected by the tragic confrontation with the Chinese.
Scott keyed the ICS. "You think she's my escort to the firing squad?"
"Well, she isn't armed."
Scott began shutting down the jet. "Getting into hot water is always a lot easier than getting out."
She unfastened her kneeboard. "Let's close the shop and find out how much trouble we're in."
"You're not in any trouble."
"Both of us were up there. And both of us know that we brought the Phantom in too low."
After securing the Harrier, Jackie and Scott climbed down and greeted Juanita. She quickly assured them that President Macklin and Hartwell Prost were very pleased with the operation, notwithstanding the sinking of the cargo ship.
"According to the president," Juanita said, "the loss of control over the Phantom was an accident caused by his excessive enthusiasm. He made it very clear that you and Mr. Craine are not at fault."
Nothing else was said after they drove away from the flight line.
When they reached the hangar, Hartwell's navy Huron utility transport was just arriving. Prost stepped off the military version of the popular turboprop and explained that Wyatt Craine was staying on San Nicolas Island to complete the accident report. Prost talked with Juanita for a few minutes, then joined Jackie and Scott in a private office in the hangar.
"Well," Hartwell began as the threesome sat down at a conference table, "it's good that we now have two Washington-Moscow hot lines to try to avoid misunderstandings and surprises."
Scott and Jackie looked perplexed.
"The State Department is using one of the lines to read from our Official Apology Manual while the president is on a secure line trying to calm Beijing and Moscow. The ship sank, and we're pretty sure the Russians are in bed with the Red Chinese on this laser weapon system."
"How many casualties?" Scott asked.
"We don't know." Hartwell removed the new brown leather flight jacket the Marines had given him. "Three navy helos rescued nine survivors. However, before they could get them to the carrier, the Chinese ambassador, the Chinese foreign minister, the Russian foreign minister, and the Russian prime minister were screaming bloody murder. They wanted the survivors flown directly to Long Beach and turned over to Chinese authorities. The word immediately was used often and loudly, along with a constant reminder that no one was to attempt to interrogate the crewmen."
Scott's head sagged and then he looked up. "Well, I made a mess of things — don't know if we can keep our role secret."
"Let us deal with it," Hartwell said. "No doubt the Phantom did extensive damage to the ship; however, we believe there were explosive charges placed at strategic locations to make sure the ship would sink before prying eyes could see what was inside."
"I don't doubt it," Jackie said.
"Beijing sent a strongly worded message to the White House and the State Department to inform us that a Chinese salvage vessel would soon be over the site of the sinking. Their foreign minister has made it clear that Beijing will not tolerate any interference."
"It may be a diplomatic mess," Jackie said, "but we now have proof that the Chinese are using some type of laser-based weapon to bring down airplanes — U.S. warplanes."
Hartwell's sour expression gave him away. "Unfortunately, we don't have a recorded event. We need a video or a series of pictures, where a laser beam actually strikes an aircraft and destroys it.
Jackie sensed something was wrong. "Are you saying we risked our lives for nothing? We have video."
"No, that's not what I'm saying. We wanted them to shoot down the drone, but the aerobatic maneuvers seemed to cause a problem with the laser locking on to the plane."
Scott caught Hartwell's attention. "You think it's manually aimed and not radar locked?"
"Maybe, at this stage of development, but it won't be too long before they adapt to using radar. Then we'll have a bigger problem."
"So, where do we go from here?" Jackie asked.
Hartwell seemed to perk up. "Let me set the stage, then we'll discuss our options. As I've told you, we have a lot of geostrategic problems bubbling to the surface. Over the past two days, we quietly extracted our ambassador to China, his immediate staff, and his security detail. The Chinese discovered it about two hours before you took off this evening."
Hartwell poured himself a glass of ice water. "Our spacecraft detected heavy message traffic between the Chinese ships and Beijing, and between Beijing and Moscow. After the encounter with the Chen Ziyang, headquarters in Beijing forbade the master of the Kapitan Zhirnovsky to fire his laser. It was okay to use the decoy, whatever it is, but the order was clear about not firing the laser."
Prost drank half the glass of water. "We have a dangerous dance going on with the China-Taiwan situation, and the Koreas are on the brink of open warfare. Either situation could trigger a reaction from the other powder keg and cause open warfare in the region."
"Are any of our carriers in the area yet?" Scott asked.
"The Kitty Hawk will be on station shortly in the Taiwan Strait, and Roosevelt will be in the South China Sea before too long."
Hartwell fell silent for a moment, the strain of his responsibility showing in his eyes. "The president is calling for an emergency meeting in Bangkok. He wants to work with the Association of Southeast Asian Nations and its Asian and Pacific partners to try to mend fences with China and Russia. He knows this is going to be tantamount to playing football in a minefield, but he is determined to try this approach."
A smile touched Hartwell's mouth. "Although President Macklin wants to mend the rift with China, he has no intention of giving Beijing an inch of ground. In fact, he wants to go to Bangkok with overwhelming evidence to show all the ASEAN partners that Beijing is fielding a very destabilizing laser-based weapon system. He also wants the world to know how China gained the knowledge and expertise to develop the weapon system."
"Why do I suddenly feel uncomfortable?" Scott asked. Hartwell's expression turned serious. "We don't have much time. The president needs an answer by tomorrow morning."