Just then the door flew open and Admiral Joe Mulligan came in still wearing his big Navy greatcoat. “Gentlemen,” he said immediately, “I am really sorry about this. Hi, Boomer, Admiral. Yet another problem with that new carrier. She’s supposed to be commissioned in March, but God knows how that’s ever gonna happen. She’s supposed to be on station in the Indian Ocean by midsummer — I can’t leave the Washington out there any longer. I guess I’ll have to use Lincoln, but she’s due for refit. I wish to Christ we still had the Jefferson in service.”
“So do I, Joe,” said Admiral Morgan slowly.
He smiled at the ex-submariner who now occupied the highest chair in the United States Navy. Arnold Morgan and Joe Mulligan had known each other for many years, way back since the Academy, and to Arnold at least, it had been obvious for some time that the Boston Irishman was being groomed for the highest office in the Navy.
Joe stood six feet four inches tall. He had a craggy face carved with laugh lines. His wit was sharp, and both his hair and his eyes were battleship gray. In his youth, Joe had been a good football player, tight end for the Midshipmen in the Army game 1966. He was a submariner through and through and never wanted to operate in any other field. Former commanding officer of a Polaris boat up in Holy Loch, Scotland, Joe Mulligan ended up in one of the most sought after operational positions in the entire United States Navy — Captain of the 18,500-ton Trident submarine Ohio in the 1980s when President Reagan was attempting to frighten the life out of the Russians.
The men who drove the Tridents were regarded as the elite commanders of the US Navy — in some ways even more important than the admirals in charge of the Carrier Battle Groups. Each one of them had been blessed with that near-mystical ability not only to handle and run their giant underwater ships with chilling efficiency, but also to understand the greater picture of both the undersea world and the political world that surrounded them. They were men of stealth, ruthlessness, and absolute certainty in their own abilities.
Captain Joseph Mulligan was widely considered to have been the best of the Trident commanders. His promotional path to become a vice admiral and then Commander Submarine Force, Atlantic Fleet and Allied Command (Atlantic), had nevertheless taken many people by surprise. When Admiral Scott Dunsmore predictably moved up to become Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, there were three admirals in line to become the new Chief of Naval Operations. The outsider among them was Joe Mulligan, and when he was appointed over the other two more senior men, a lot of people were very surprised.
Arnold Morgan was not among them. He regarded Admiral Mulligan as an outstanding Naval strategist and administrator. He also knew him to be an expert on modern guided missile systems with a degree in nuclear physics. What Morgan really admired however was the new CNO’s deeply cynical view of the motives of all other nations. The two men shared an unshakable view of the proper supremacy of the United States of America.
Admiral Mulligan motioned for the President’s new Security Adviser to join him in the inner office, leaving the Commander outside for a while. He issued strict instructions that they were not to be disturbed, short of an outbreak of war, mutiny, or fire, and could someone please bring in some hot coffee and a few cookies.
Admiral Mulligan’s desk did not look too big for the head of the United States Navy, and Mulligan looked like a man who had been born to occupy the large office. Arnold Morgan smiled as the CNO growled, “Right, Arnie. What are we gonna do about these Chinese pricks?”
He then pulled a classified file out of his locked desk drawer, thumbed through the pages, and said he thought he would like his old buddy first to brief him thoroughly on the political background of the present situation.
“Okay, Joe. I want to go through this very carefully because I have a feeling there has been some kinda blockage in the flow of information. Either that, or things which I regard as critically important are not so regarded by others, which means we are dealing with a bunch of dumb-ass sonsabitches, right?”
“Right.”
“Now, this is going to take me a few minutes, Joe, so bear with me, will you? I have two points of departure, the first when I was in Fort Meade, the second now that I have the ear of the President. I guess this all began back in 1993 when the Chinese Navy first placed an order with the dying Soviet Navy for one of those Kilo Class submarines of theirs.
“Well, the Chinese Navy, even then, was in an expansionist mood, and no one got terribly excited. We were much more interested in the fact that the Iranians were in the process of ordering two or three of the same class.
“Then, in 1995, a few things began to happen, which we did not like. In January, China took delivery of her first Kilo. It arrived on a transport vessel registered in Cyprus. Took six weeks, but the important thing was, it arrived.
“Then, in mid-September, a second Kilo left the Baltic bound for China, and that arrived as well. Then, at the beginning of 1996, the Chinese confirmed they had ordered a total of eight more of Kilo Class boats. Just a few weeks later they began a series of Naval exercises in the Taiwan Strait that were clearly intended to unnerve the Taiwanese military. They started loosing off missiles very close to the Taiwan coastline, and right then we were obliged to sit up and take serious notice.
“I guess you remember we sent a CVBG in to remind them of our interest. It slowed them down a bit, and from then on, we had to keep a very careful watch on the situation. You know how gravely we would view any action by the Chinese that threatened not only our own position in the Taiwan Strait, but also that of the rest of the world’s peaceable shipping trade along those Far Eastern routes.
“Well, for a few years after that things went somewhat quiet, I suspect because the Russians were unable to get further Kilos built. You know what a goddamned mess they are in. Since the breakup of the old Soviet Navy, the shipyards have been just about moribund, especially in the Baltic. So far as we know there have been very few deliveries of any submarines.
“It is just possible that the Russians have taken note of our repeated warnings that they should not fulfill the Chinese order, but I doubt it. We stepped the pressure up this year when the Chinese exercised their Eastern Fleet far too close to Taiwan — so close you’ll remember it almost caused an international incident between a couple of our DDG’s and a group of their aging frigates. Would have been a nightmare if we’d had to sink ’em, but at least they did not have a submarine out there.
“Since then, we have called the Russian ambassador in, a half-dozen times, explaining how seriously we would view the situation if China suddenly had an efficient submarine flotilla patrolling the Strait of Taiwan. We know what damage a top-class commander in one of those boats can do. If China had a total of ten of them she could deploy three or more in the Strait. That would effectively shut us out.
“You know there is a strong feeling in the Navy that we ought not to place those big carriers in harm’s way without real good reason. And the President is very aware that if the Chinese have an operational patrol of several Kilos in there, that argument would begin to sound very, very persuasive.”
“Yeah. It sure would, Arnie. It would be very bad for the Navy, and that means bad for the USA. And the President knows that better than anyone.”
“Right, Joe. You said it. Now let me recap some of the events of September fifth, two days before our first meeting with the President. I was right in the thick of it — started about 0100 hours our time. One of our guys in South China reported in, unscheduled, something he had not seen before: the arrival of a big Russian military aircraft, landing, apparently empty, at the airport in Xiamen early in the morning. Xiamen is the Chinese Naval Base city in the very south of Fujian Province.