“All we are doing at the moment is looking at the data feed from the Peoples Liberation Army’s, Sixth Army headquarters on Leyte, to the Central Committee headquarters.” Terry explained.
“That doesn’t effect the outcome of the war by one iota, because we’re merely spectators, we are not doing anything with the data. However, once we act on what we see, or even start to feed disinformation to them on the basis of what we can see here, then from that moment on in we are running the risk of them changing the locks on us, or god forbid, they feed us what they want us to see.”
The President was silent as he looked at the board.
“So what exactly have we got here, what does it give us?”
“We know where every single satellite of theirs is, what each one does and we see and hear everything that they do. We can read all the data passing through them, we know where every single PRC military unit is, what its equipment and supply state is and where it’s heading to.” Terry had asked these exact same questions of his experts only an hour before.
“We know what hardware they have scheduled to go up and we can see precisely what they know about our own satellites, for instance, I now see that we need to start producing more communications satellites, because they will start prioritising their destruction in the next forty-eight hours.”
“Won’t that affect our RORSAT and photo reconnaissance satellite replacement program?”
“Of course it will, but we don’t need them as desperately as we did before Mister President, because we can utilise the PRC’s own satellites now, but of course we will still need to put some up for them to shoot down, otherwise they may get suspicious. All we do is keep sending up something that emits radar waves, I’m sure there must be a warehouse full of 1960s and 70s satellite technology gathering dust somewhere?”
“We are also working on the possibilities of a hack, perhaps to shut down their communications totally, or even write a disinformation program similar to the one they stiffed us with.” Terry had already ordered the writing of several programs, but although they may never be used, it always helped to have something available if the opportunity came up.
“We couldn’t just do that now?”
“No sir, we are peeping over their shoulder, that’s all.” Terry said.
“Our safest bet is to continue to do so, too.” He added with feeling.
While the President and the CIA boss were speaking, Henry was studying the screen. It was all being downloaded elsewhere by NSA and Henry could look at it again anytime he wanted, so he wasn’t too vexed when someone in China pushed a button to bring up the Indian Ocean and Australia. He nodded to himself after taking a moment to see where the PRC thought the allies ships, aircraft and land forces were in that region, and he conceded the PRC had a pretty accurate picture of their deployment, they even had his kids’ ships up there but something else caught his eye and made him feel cold all over.
The President saw Henry stood close to the screen and apparently taking a professional interest in the PLAN and Red Fleet ships heading south across the Indian Ocean. He didn’t know the names of the ships although they were right there on screen, right next to the icon representing the vessel in question, but it was all in Chinese characters of course.
From where the President was stood he could make out a solitary icon trailing along at the rear of the invasion fleet.
“What ship is that Henry has it got engine trouble do you think?” he moved from his seat to stand beside the big marine.
“Looks kinda lonely all by itself back there.” The President removed his glasses from a pocket and polished the lenses before putting them on and leaning forward, peering at the solitary vessel.
It was a small submarine icon and lacked any I.D beside it accept a tiny Australian flag.
“Oh my god, Henry…”
Henry’s expression was grim.
“Yes Mister President, apparently they have discovered that the Hooper is shadowing them.” The exact course, speed and depth were displayed beside the icon.
“It must be difficult to move about without being heard if you’re half deaf, yourself?”
Terry Jones took a look at the screen and then at his boss, he knew exactly what the President was thinking, and as soon as he opened his mouth Terry cut him off.
“We can’t warn them Mister President.”
“But they’ll sink her if we don’t, the Chinese will kill them all!” The President looked from one man to the other, but neither showed anything except grim acceptance. He tried anyway though.
“Those men and women probably won’t hear them coming in time to escape!”
“We can do nothing to help them Mister President, not whilst there is the slightest chance that the enemy may guess how we knew that they had discovered the presence of HMAS Hooper.”
“But….”
“We have here a tool that could help us defeat the Chinese, IF we use it right Mister President. We will take direct action as a result of what we discover, but only if the stakes are high enough sir, because the more often we do so increases the chance of the enemy guessing how and why we did what we did.”
The President looked from CIA chief to top soldier, but Henry shook his head sadly.
“He’s right sir, the only reason the enemy hasn’t sunk her yet is because they are waiting for the right opportunity, probably when the time comes to change course for their intended destination. Until that time arrives they will try and use her to deceive us as to their real intentions, and we also have to let them think we are buying it. If they change course for New Zealand we are going to have to do something there, just to make them think we don’t know any better …I’m sorry Mister President, but we can’t do anything to save them.”
The President took a last look at the tiny icon that was far from home and forcing himself to ignore the men and women it represented, he strode from the room.
The commencement of a massive artillery bombardment announced the arrival of the Red Army at the last line of organised defence that NATO had. Shells and rocket artillery began pounding the Royal Marines of 40 Commando in their fighting holes to the front of the wooded feature, and also isolating them from help by laying a wall of exploding steel to their rear.
On the marine’s flank the Foreign Legionnaires were also receiving some serious attention.
In his battalion CP, Pat Reed could feel the detonation of the nearer high explosives through the soles of his boots, and despite, or maybe even because of having endured the attentions of the Red Army’s guns at Magdeburg, he felt a sense of apprehension growing. The marines to their front were the buffer, the thing on which the Soviet’s would expend valuable munitions, and of course time upon, whilst the lightly armed and equipped British troops picked away at the Soviet fighting vehicles as best they could.
Pat was aware that the new men, the US Paratroopers and British Guardsmen who had arrived in the last couple of days would be listening to the sound of the guns and wondering how they would fare once 40 Commando gave ground and fell back through their lines. He would have liked to be able to tour the positions once more but his place was in the CP now.
Jim Popham was having the same thoughts at the battalion’s alternate CP set 500m to the rear of Pat Reed’s location. Ptarmigan showed the latest sitrep from brigade, 40 Commando was reporting the return to their lines of sub units of their ATGW Troop, anti-tank guided weapons. 40 Commando didn’t expect any more of their anti-tank element would be re-joining owing to the losses they had sustained. The forward screen of the leading MRR had reached the edge of the first obstacle; a deep ditch dug part way across their frontage by the Royal Engineers in the apparent hope of channelling the Soviet’s into a prepared killing ground. An update by the brigades’ intelligence cell identified the leading unit and Jim Popham wondered why that particular unit should ring bells with him. A field telephone near him buzzed for attention, Lt Col Reed was on the other end of the line.