She read the last section a third time, detailing how they would build her into an assassin, or toss her if she couldn’t handle it. She was floored. The report contained details that no one could have known unless they were present.
Dong’s voice was a whisper now.
“Your father betrayed you. He sold you to Jinshan to help relaunch a plateaued military career. You owe nothing to that man. Even now, you don’t use your family name. Lena, I recognize you for who you are. I will continue to empower you and cherish your contributions. But I need your help. Jinshan and the Russian president have both given you power. And anyone with power to wield will have to make a choice when Jinshan dies. You must choose me over General Chen.”
A buzz, and Dong picked up his phone from his chair’s armrest. “This is Dong. Yes. Good. I’m coming now.” He hung up, then said to Lena, “Good news. The naval battle has begun. I must go. I suggest you destroy that document. But remember what I said.”
He turned and left.
Lena stared out the window at the night sky, her jaw clenched.
27
Captain Davidson and his crew knew this might be a suicide mission.
But if the American battle plan was to succeed, the Chinese Jiaolong-class warships needed to be taken out. And based on months of probing Chinese naval operations, PACFLEET felt this was their only chance.
Captain Davidson said, “Officer of the Deck, on our depth five-zero feet.”
“Officer of the Deck, aye. Pilot all ahead one-third.”
“All ahead one-third, pilot aye.”
Captain Davidson watched his officers and crew perform their duties in the control room of America’s newest fast-attack submarine. Much had changed since he was a junior submarine officer. His officer of the deck was a woman. Physical periscopes had been replaced by joystick-controlled photonic masts. The sonar room had been eliminated, its watchstanders thrown into the control room with everyone else.
But the real change, the one his Command Master Chief might never get over, was the way they drove the submarine. Unlike its Los Angeles-class predecessor, Virginia-class submarines had pilots, just like airplanes. The dive, chief of the watch, helm, and outboard watch stations had been replaced by pilot and co-pilot.
Admiral Rickover was turning in his grave.
At first, Captain Davidson thought he would hate it. But after deploying on the USS Delaware, he had to admit that the new configuration was remarkably efficient. He could only hope that their new tactics would be as well.
“The Orcas are in position, Captain.”
“Range to target?”
“Orca Alpha is forty thousand yards from CPA with the enemy surface action group. Orca Bravo is thirty-two thousand yards.”
Each of the Orca Extra Large Unmanned Underwater Vehicles (XLUUV), like the USS Delaware, were at periscope depth.
“Slow us down and launch the UAV,” said Captain Davidson.
The control room echoed his command. Within a few moments, the submarine had slowed to the minimum speed it needed to control itself. The Delaware released a three-foot-long buoy from a specialized compartment in the rear of the vessel. Upon release, it began floating to the surface, still connected to the submarine by a cable.
Once surfaced, the buoy opened its water-tight hatch and out flew a twenty-pound quad-copter drone containing encrypted datalink antenna and communications gear designed especially for this purpose.
“UAV deployed, Captain, standing by for link… link established. We have good up and down link with both Orcas, sir.”
“Good link, aye. Let’s move, folks. We’re on the clock.”
“Yes, sir.”
Captain Davidson’s Virginia-class fast-attack submarine was now communicating with the two Orca drone submarines, which were miles away. The Delaware transmitted its encrypted information to the aerial drone, which had established line-of-sight encrypted datalink connections with the two Orca submarine drones’ periscope antennas. This allowed the two drone submarines to communicate with the USS Delaware in real time, but it was risky. While the electronic emissions were encrypted, any electronic signal would quickly be picked up by Chinese surveillance satellites, surface ships, and aircraft.
Within moments, the Chinese would know that something was close by. For an attacking submarine, that knowledge was deadly.
Captain Davidson watched on a nearby display as the Orcas beamed their sonar and electronic intelligence data to their mothership, the USS Delaware. “Mothership” wasn’t really the right word, thought Davidson. The drone submarines never actually joined up with the USS Delaware. All three vessels had launched from Naval Base Kitsap, periodically surfacing their antennas for data syncs.
“Officer of the Deck, Orca data sync complete, UAV returning to buoy. UAV safe on deck, hatch closed. Ready to retrieve.”
“Retrieve buoy.”
“Roger, standby. Twenty seconds, sir.”
Normally the data transfers were made from submarine antenna to drone antenna, at close range. During this crucial attack period, however, the transfer of information had to be executed with the UAV buoy, allowing the underwater drones to ambush their target at an increased distance from the Delaware.
“Conn, Sonar, new contact bearing zero-one-zero, designate track Sierra-Four-Two. Classify as hostile.”
“Sonar, aye.”
Captain Davidson said, “Type of sub?”
“Sonar signature looks like a Han-class, sir,” replied the sonarman.
Captain Davidson swore softly to himself as he walked over to the sonar station. There, a chief and a first-class petty officer sat side by side, headphones on, studying waterfall displays on square monitors. Captain Davidson looked over their shoulder, then pointed across the room and said, “Get me a firing solution on that track. Wait for my order. Priority remains the Jiaolong-class ship.”
“Aye, sir.”
His heart was beating faster, and the tension in the room was palpable. On the digital readout, Captain Davidson could see that the Chinese surface group of twelve warships had closed within a few miles of their position.
The Chinese ships were headed northeast, protected by the mighty Jiaolong-class ships, only a few of which had been sunk since the war began. Their deadly ASW dirigibles were spitting sonobuoy after sonobuoy, surrounding their warships with protective barriers. Each of the Jiaolong-class ships were mounted with Direct Energy Weapons, lethal air defense weapons with giant radars that could instantly detect and focus their powerful beams of energy at any inbound missile or aircraft that came within fifty miles.
If the Chinese navy was to be defeated, the Americans needed to take out the Jiaolong-class ships. And if that could be done, it would be by using this new tactic Captain Davidson was about to employ.
“Range to target?”
“Twenty-five thousand yards.”
Captain Davidson wiped sweat off his brow and looked at the clock overhead. He realized that everyone else was looking at it, too.
“Ten seconds,” said the weapons officer. “Three… two… one… time.”