“Overkill,” Allen said. “The PLAN wasted a lot of missiles, and those little guided missile patrol boats don’t have reloads. They’re out of the fight.”
“Admiral, for God’s sake, you’ve got to make a decision about the northern Taiwanese frigate,” Samson said, not quite believing that Allen could be so detached and unemotional about the loss of the Taiwanese frigate and the apparent deaths of hundreds of Taiwanese sailors. “Or do you want to see the PLAN chase down and sink another Taiwanese frigate?”
“This is not my damned fight, General,” Allen shouted. “I was only supposed to observe and report. Taiwan threw the first punch, and Elliott only helped aggravate the situation.”
“So you’re going to let the PLAN sink that frigate?” Samson asked incredulously. “You’re going to sit back and watch and do nothing?”
“If it happens, it’ll be his own damned fault,” Allen said. “Anyway, the score’s even now — one PLAN destroyer for one ROC frigate and helicopter. Good time for everybody to break it up and go back to their corners.” He was handed a telephone just then. “Trident. Go.”
“This is Wrangler,” Admiral Frederick Cowen, the Chief of Naval Operations, said, using his call sign. “JCS and NSC got your message; NSC asked me to give you a buzz. What’s happening?”
“Shit’s hitting the fan, sir,” Allen replied. “Two Taiwanese frigates closed on the PLAN carrier battle group and attacked. One PLAN destroyer damaged. One of the ROC frigates has been sunk, and the PLAN’s getting ready to deep-six the other.”
“Too bad,” Cowen replied with obvious disinterest in his voice. “Til pass the word along. Any of our guys in the area?”
“Just that Thunder Pig,” Allen replied derisively, smiling when Terrill Samson turned toward him when he heard Allen’s name for the Megafortress.
“Just make sure Headbanger doesn’t pop off any of his flying wet dreams until we get a look at the situation.”
“Too late, sir,” Allen said. “Headbanger’s already launched — without permission. A couple decoy cruise missiles that suckered a bunch of PLAN anti-ship cruise missiles pretty good.”
“Dammit, Crusher knew he’d do that,” Admiral Cowen swore across the secure satellite hookup. “Crusher” was Admiral George Balboa’s call sign — and it fit his personality and management style too, both he and Allen knew. “Recall that contraption. Get it on the ground. Elliott is history!”
“Aye, sir,” Allen responded. To the TAO, he shouted, “Issue recall instructions to Headbanger. Disengage and RTB, right now.”
Samson hit a button on his communications panel. “Excuse me, Wrangler. This is Buster—”
“You give Elliott the order to launch those missiles?” Cowen snapped.
“No, sir,” Samson replied. “Headbanger reacted to protect the Taiwanese frigate when the PLAN launched an anti-ship missile and gun barrage. One Taiwanese warship’s been sunk, and the other is in imminent danger. We need permission to launch anti-radar and anti-missile weapons and, if necessary, attack the PLAN guided-missile boats with attack cruise missiles.”
“Denied,” Cowen said immediately. “Terminate the mission, recall all aircraft, and get them on the ground immediately.”
“Sir, the captain of the Taiwanese frigate, Captain Sung, reports that the PLAN carrier battle group is carrying nuclear land attack and antiship missiles,” Samson said. “We should stop the task force from—”
“What do you mean, the captain of the Taiwanese frigate reports?” Cowen exploded. “You mean, you’re in contact with the Taiwanese vessels? How—?”
“The skipper of the lead Taiwanese frigate contacted Headbanger,” Samson said. “I don’t know how — there must’ve been a security breakdown.”
“Or else Elliott gave them the UHF synchronizer codes! ” Cowen retorted. “I’ll bet he’s the damned security breakdown! This mission is supposed to be secret, General! That was your damn idea from the beginning — it was supposed to be secret even from the ROC. I want those planes recalled and that bastard Elliott…” he stopped, realizing he was breaking communications security, which made him even madder, “… put on house arrest! ”
“Sir, if Headbanger is recalled, that second Taiwanese frigate will be a sitting duck,” Samson argued. “At least authorize Headbanger to release their defensive weapons — the remaining Wolverines and the Tacit Rainbow cruise missiles. These weapons will stay in the area protecting the frigate while they withdraw. ”
“I’m giving you a direct order, Buster — recall Headbanger now!” Cowen shouted. “They are not to release any weapons except to protect themselves while they clear the area and recover. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly clear, sir,” Admiral Allen, who had been listening in, replied. “I’ll see to it myself immediately.” And the line went dead. Allen hung up the phone, then said, “TAO, issue a recall order to the bomber force, and have the order authenticated — by Elliott personally. The mission is terminated, and he’s on report.”
“Terminated?” Elliott retorted. “They can’t do this to us now!” He keyed the mike on the secure satellite link: “Hey, Earthmover, tell the squids to go to hell! We’re going to cover that frigate’s withdrawal! ”
“Negative, Headbanger,” Admiral Allen replied. “This is Trident, and it’s a direct order from Wrangler. Your orders are to terminate and withdraw. You are authorized to expend weapons only to defend yourself as you withdraw and RTB. Time now, zero-three-two-two-four-eight, authentication tango. Do you copy?”
“Hey, Billy, authenticate this: fuckyou!” Elliott shot back angrily, and he switched the secure satellite transceiver off his comm panel. “I knew they’d do this,” he said hotly. “First chance they got, they recalled us.” “We’ve done everything we could,” Nancy Cheshire said. “If we try to defend that Taiwanese frigate any more, we risk getting sucked closer and closer in toward that Chinese fleet — and that might not be as bad as the ass-kicking we’d get by CINCPAC or Balboa once we got back home. You got a heading to the refueling anchor point, Patrick?”
“Heading indicator is good back to the air refueling anchor point,” McLanahan said, calling up the coordinates on his computer and entering them into his navigation system.
“Hey, we can’t bug out of here now,” Elliott said angrily, as he connected the autopilot to the navigation computers and monitored the turn to the east. “We haven’t done squat, and we’re about to watch the PLAN sink a Taiwanese frigate and kill hundreds more sailors. Doesn’t that mean anything to you guys?”
“Sir, we were given an order to withdraw,” Cheshire said. “I know you don’t like it, but we’ve got to follow those orders.” She hesitated for a moment, then added, “Don’t we?”
“Patrick, you’re the mission commander — it’s up to you,” Elliott said. “But you know as well as I do that if Allen or Balboa had their fingers on the triggers, they’d shoot.”
“Maybe, maybe not — that’s not our problem,” McLanahan said. “We were ordered to withdraw, so we withdraw. We’ll follow orders.” The interphone got very quiet. He called up a repeater of Emil Vikram’s large threat display, superimposing it over his God’s-eye view so he could map out exactly which ships were transmitting. “Emitter, I see that carrier, the northern destroyer, and those seven northern patrol boats all hitting us with target-tracking radar. We’re under attack.”