Susan stood up and the screen changed to an image of a very odd-looking container ship.
Susan said, “They call them the Jiaolong class. It’s a battleship. Or the PLA Navy’s take on what a modern battleship should be. This picture was taken several weeks ago, when the ship was under construction. It’s the only one we have. It’s big. It’s secretive. And beyond that, we don’t know much about it.”
David studied the image. The container ship was painted haze gray, like a warship. A tall superstructure with a wide bridge on the aft end. Strange-looking platforms extended outward amidships, two on each side, and two tall towers protruded upward from the fore and aft section of the ship. Scaffolding surrounded the towers. It reminded David of the Washington Monument when it was being refurbished, although these towers appeared to be metallic, and functional components of the massive ship.
Someone asked, “What’s with the towers?”
“We think it may be a new type of radar.”
“And those are flight decks?”
“We don’t know. But HUMINT sources in China reported that at least one of these ships has left port this week, under the cover of darkness. We believe it’s now accompanying the aircraft carrier Liaoning as part of the Chinese Southern Fleet.”
David looked up at the map on the screen. He could see a group of American Navy near Guam. Surface Action Group–121. David’s sister Victoria was on one of those ships, the USS Farragut. The expanding circle showed where the Chinese Southern Fleet could be. It was approaching her ship. And in another week or two, that circle might extend closer to Midway Island, near the USS Ford. His father was there.
General Schwartz continued the brief. “The US military is reinforcing Guam. If hostilities resume next week, it will become a major hub for US air power. If the Liaoning Strike Group tries to reattack Guam, they’ll have a surface action group and significant air power to deal with. We’re already planning offensive operations if the Chinese Southern Fleet comes within range. The problem is still in locating them. We have the submarine USS Columbia located in between Guam and where the Chinese fleet might be, but that’s past the one forty-fourth east longitude line, and we’re very nervous about her getting too close without a full understanding of this new ASW technology. Satellite recon birds are still a week from launching, our UAVs have proven highly susceptible to electronic attack, and the U-2s would be sitting ducks against Chinese SAMs.”
David frowned. “Sir, when I was with In-Q-Tel, I worked on a project that involved the…” He looked around the room, suddenly aware that he wasn’t sure whether he was allowed to discuss the program.
Seeing this, General Schwartz said, “Spit it out, son. We don’t have time for the normal bullshit.”
“…the SR-72. The Air Force’s future aerial reconnaissance aircraft, with the scramjet propulsion. It’ll be high and fast, and able to get imagery well over the one forty-fourth without being impacted by electronic attack. And it’s too fast for SAMs.”
General Schwartz shook his head, “That program is several years away. They don’t even have a full-scale prototype.”
David smiled. “Sir, I beg to differ.”
18
Colonel Johnny “Flipper” Wojcik crept around the outside of his aircraft, examining every rivet. Each step he made was under the close watch of Air Force security services. This hangar had five armed guards at any given time, and it was only opened at night. Tonight was special, however. Three additional men were also watching Wojcik conduct his preflight. Two had recently traveled here. The third was a defense contractor, there to provide support on behalf of his company.
Colonel Wojcik had been a pilot for the last thirty years. A test pilot for the last twenty. The last eight years, though, had been spent in the arid Nevada desert, at Tonopah. This was where the fun stuff happened. The projects that didn’t exist. The jets that no one knew about. Colonel Wojcik was one of the few active-duty military men that got to take part in all of this. The others were all former military, now contract test pilots. While they had more expertise, it was his active-duty military status that had made him the right choice for this particular assignment.
There were two identical-looking aircraft in the hangar. Dark metal, futuristic. Sleek aerodynamic angles rounding out the fuselage. Colonel Wojcik had spent a few hours a day for the past few years in this hangar, and he still thought the thing looked like a goddammed spaceship. The SR-72 had all the sex appeal that a top-secret reconnaissance aircraft should have, he thought to himself. The engineering design team had outdone themselves with this one.
He conducted tonight’s preflight with love. Colonel Wojcik felt like a jockey brushing his prized racehorse before the Kentucky Derby. Don’t let me down now, baby. We’ll win this together.
The operational capabilities of the optionally manned prototype he was about to fly were known only to a few people in the world. Articles on the Air Force SR-72 program had been put out by his company, of course. That helped generate buzz around Capitol Hill, which helped ensure funding.
But only a few knew the specifics. One of those men happened to be David Manning, a former employee of In-Q-Tel, the CIA’s private equity firm. David was now watching the colonel conduct his preflight inspection of the aircraft.
“So they made you come all the way out here to watch me take off?”
“Actually, sir, I won’t see you take off. I leave for D.C. in about fifteen minutes. My new bosses wanted me to make sure we effectively communicated the mission requirements, since communications haven’t been particularly good of late.”
The colonel’s hand paused on the smooth surface of the left wing. He turned to meet David’s eye.
“What are you headed to D.C. for?”
David hesitated, and the colonel saw the look of discomfort and held up his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ve been doing this long enough. I know when I don’t need to know. You have effectively communicated the mission requirements to me, Mr. Manning. I am to go fly halfway around the world and take some pictures of a Chinese super-fleet, then fly back and get those pictures to the thirty-pound brains so they can figure out what the hell is killing our submarines.”
The thick-mustached test pilot looked up at David again and winked. “That about sum it up?”
David smiled. “That’s about right, sir.”
“Let me ask you a question, Mr. Manning. Those towers you showed me on the top of the ships — any chance that’s why you’re headed to D.C.?”
David smiled again, remaining silent.
“That’s what I thought. Told you I been doing this awhile.”
David and two other members of the SILVERSMITH team had been flown to Nevada once the Air Force and Lockheed had agreed to use the SR-72 prototype for this mission.
“Now, Johnny, you will need to be careful once you get her above Mach 4.”
“I know, Al. I know.”
“And we haven’t tested any of the ISR pods they made us install. Those were meant for the U-2. We did the best we could to integrate the systems, but… well, it’s possible that you’ll fly out there and have nothing to show for it.” The company guy was getting all worked up. “There’s a big difference between operational capability and a prototype for reusable hypersonic aircraft! This was something we explained to In-Q-Tel when Mr. Manning was here last year.”