“Where will the drone go if it stays on its preselected route?” Darius asked.
“The range we’re seeing this at…” Khan shrugged. “The drone might drift off in a different direction. The program should cause it to veer toward those carriers. But you can never be sure when the sighting is so slight. These drones have a built-in glitch—”
“We’re the eyes and ears of Task Force A,” Darius muttered.
“Yes, sir,” Khan said. “But if the Chinese know we’re here…”
Darius chewed his lower lip. What was the correct decision? He wasn’t sure. He could ask the Chief of the Boat, an ancient enlisted man with by far the most experience. In fact, he should ask for opinions. But would that make him look weak-willed?
Allah, grant me wisdom, he prayed silently.
Darius squinted at the screen, and he felt more confident. He was the eyes and ears of Task Force A. He needed to do his job. “Give the drone a short burst command,” he said in a soft voice. “I want a closer look at those ships.”
“Yes, Captain,” Khan said, although the small man hesitated.
Darius noticed, and he waited for someone to tell him he was wrong. No one did, and Khan sent the transmission.
Old Admiral Niu Ling commanded the carrier group from the supercarrier Sung. There were two flattops under his orders, together with their escorts of one battleship, some cruisers, more destroyers and various supply ships, submarines, helicopter tenders and other necessary vessels.
Sung was massive, displacing one hundred and eight thousand tons. She had fought in the Alaskan War in 2032 and helped launch the amphibious assault at Santa Cruz, California in 2039. The supercarrier had missed the Battle of Oahu in the Hawaiian Islands where the Chinese had annihilated the last American flattops. Instead, the super-ship had been near the coast of Australia with the waiting Chinese invasion fleet.
In 2032 during the Alaskan War, Sung held ninety modern fighters, bombers, tankers and electronic warfare planes. Now she had one hundred and sixty smaller UCAVs, giving her nearly double the punch. Her sister carrier had half as many drones. The North American War had devoured Chinese air power, just as the war kept eating the nation’s carriers.
Ling had been old during the Alaskan invasion. As always, he was missing his left arm, as he’d rejected a prosthetic replacement. He had the empty sleeve pinned against his uniform so it wouldn’t flap around at inopportune times. He’d lost the arm many years ago in a flight accident while attempting to land a plane on a carrier. The left side of his face was frozen flesh, although he had a new eye that gleamed with hideous life. Ling found that the artificial eye intimidated people more than his rank or age ever did.
He stood in the ship’s command center, once again off the coast of Australia. The Americans had finally come out with a fleet. It amazed him. They fought well enough on land. On the sea, however, their time had passed. This was still China’s hour.
Oh, he admitted to himself the Americans had come up with technological surprises. Even during the Alaskan invasion, his fleet had been forced to withstand anti-ship ballistic missiles. What a terrifying experience that had been. Fortunately, superior Chinese technology had blunted the attack. Two years ago, the crafty Americans used THOR missiles and ICBMs against the powerful GD Atlantic fleet. Combined with US airpower, the North Americans had annihilated the GD vessels. That had been impressive, although Ling wouldn’t allow that here.
Yes, the Americans knew how to use submarines. Grudgingly, Admiral Ling admitted that to himself. The Japanese during World War II had learned a similar lesson.
He had some surprises in case the Americans dared to attempt THOR attacks against his carrier group. The sole battleship had an experimental particle beam cannon, able, the technicians said, to knock down the THOR crowbars. The carrier group also possessed tested, laser-armed cruisers, while destroyers carried SM-4B missiles.
Despite that, Ling’s stomach churned. He admitted to worry. He was also far too old for any of this. Why couldn’t the Leader let him lay down his command? He did not care for nuclear depth charges or the nuclear-tipped torpedoes. The Americans used those, and now so did China.
In truth, Admiral Ling feared for his land. They had played the Game of Great Nations too boldly. Perhaps it would have been better in the beginning to tie down American forces with a powerful Mexico. Then the Chinese navy could have snatched up the entire Pacific basin. With Australia under their belt…
Could the Americans really believe they could lift Australia out of China’s hands? That was so preposterous. Yet sometimes, there was power in doing the unexpected.
He studied the command center personnel. No one seemed to watch him, but that didn’t fool Ling. They always watched him, usually out of the corner of their eyes. His electronic orb recorded everything for him. Even a year ago, he would sit alone in his office and study the videos from his mechanical eye. The sessions had taught him much about human nature. Now he no longer bothered to watch the videos. He knew all he wanted to know about human proclivities.
Despite the knowledge that everyone watched him, he touched his artificial eye. Yes, the doctors had told him the thing would not hurt, but it often did during times of increased stress. Did several officers recoil at his touch of it? That was possible. He could check recordings later, but why bother. How would it help him to know if they found him repugnant or not?
He was too old for this. He knew the depth of human depravity, and—
“Sir!” one of the ratings said, a young boy with such smooth skin.
Admiral Ling made an easy gesture. He might look and act as an ancient wreck, but he still had strength in his withered muscles.
“I’ve just picked up a radio signal,” the rating said.
Ling clapped his hands. It’s all he needed to do.
The command center burst into life. He had a well-oiled machine in these men. He was old enough to appreciate something well oiled.
That was another age. Electronics dominate this one.
“Sir,” a deck captain said. “I believe we can pinpoint the signal’s origin.”
“Please do so,” Ling said quietly.
Three minutes later, the captain put his discovery on the big screen. With an electric pointer, the meticulous man circled an area of sea.
“The signal must have originated from somewhere in there,” he said.
He means submarines, likely American ones. “Launch several drones,” Ling said. “Scour the area for underwater vessels.”
“I’ve spotted an enemy drone, sir!” the smooth-skinned rating shouted.
Ling allowed the boy this breach of protocol. These days, he hated it when others shouted. Everything should be done with decorum.
“Show me,” Ling said quietly, trying to teach by example.
“Transferring it to the big screen, sir,” the deck captain said.
Ling leaned forward. Oh yes, he saw it, a tiny thing really. “What am I seeing?” he asked.
“That is a Seagull-3,” the captain explained. “They are usually launched from Avenger VII submarines, using stealth broadcasts so we cannot pinpoint the location of the mother ship.”
“What did the signal you picked up earlier tell us?” Ling asked.
“The submarine captain must have sent the drone a movement order. In my opinion, Admiral…”
“Please, tell me,” Ling said.
“The Americans have spotted us.”