The admiral and his entourage stopped next to a J-15 fighter jet as the messenger reached them.
“Sir, from the ship’s communications room. A priority message from Beijing.”
The admiral opened the folder and removed the printed message. He waved over his chief of staff to read over his shoulder. The admiral squinted at the faded print. He had admonished the supply officer for not planning to bring enough ink for the trip. They were now stretching out every ink cartridge to the last drop. This resulted in the admiral’s increasingly blurred reading and slow loss of sanity.
His chief of staff beat him to the crucial part of the message, cursing under his breath as he read.
The admiral saw the passage.
AMERICAN MILITARY IS DEVELOPING DEFENSIVE WEAPONRY INTENDED TO NEUTRALIZE JIAOLONG-CLASS WARSHIP ON JOHNSTON ATOLL AND FRENCH FRIGATE SHOALS. MINEFIELDS WILL BE DEPLOYED SURROUNDING THESE ISLANDS AND HAWAIIAN ISLAND CHAIN WITHIN NEXT 24 HOURS. THE AMERICAN WEAPON SYSTEM AT JOHNSTON ATOLL IS NOT YET OPERATIONAL BUT MAY BECOME OPERATIONAL WITHIN NEXT 24–48 HOURS. LIAONING CARRIER BATTLE GROUP SHALL IMMEDIATELY PROCEED TOWARD JOHNSTON ATOLL WITH THE INTENT OF ATTACK AND OCCUPATION. UPON COMPLETION LIAONING CARRIER BATTLE GROUP SHALL ADJUST COURSE TO TAKE STATION WITHIN STRIKE RANGE OF HAWAII. EXPECT TO PROCEED WITH ATTACK OF HAWAII ONCE ON STATION.
The admiral looked up. “Tell the navigator and the captain to meet us in the combat operations center.”
A few moments later, the admiral stood over a digital chart table that had been adjusted to show Johnston Atoll and Hawaii.
“The minefields between Johnston Atoll and French Frigate Shoals will be enormous. Hundreds of miles apart.” He furrowed his brow.
“And hundreds of miles west of Pearl Harbor.”
“How many additional hours will the course change add to our track towards Hawaii?”
“Only two to three hours, Admiral. But we could just change the location where we launch the strike on Hawaii.”
“Hawaii is our real target. We cannot lose sight of that. But we now have a serious obstacle. We must increase our speed and ensure that the Americans are not able to set up their new weapon there.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How much longer until we are in strike range of Hawaii?”
“Approximately eight hours until we are in range with our fighters. Our land-attack cruise missiles will be in range several hours after that.”
“We will hold off our attack until both are in range in order to maximize the effectiveness.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Make the change. Send out the orders to our ships in company.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
Within an hour, all seventy-four ships in the fleet had adjusted their headings.
36
Victoria awoke to the sound of doors slamming shut, vehicle engines starting up, and boots hitting the pavement outside her trailer barracks. She went to the door and opened it. One of the DEVGRU men was in full tactical gear, throwing a bag into the back of a jeep.
“What’s happened?”
“We’ve been moved up. Meeting in ten minutes on the flight line, ma’am.”
Moved up? Victoria checked her watch. Zero one thirty. As always, Victoria was meticulously prepared. She’d filled her Camelbak before going to bed and laid out her clothing and gear. She threw on her flight suit and gargled some mouthwash while tying her boots. She was out the door in sixty seconds, helmet bag in hand, boots crunching on the gravel as she made her way to the flight line.
She could see dim green and red lights flickering over different parts of the helicopters. The flashlights of maintenance men and aircrews doing last minute checks. One of the green lights hopped down from the tail section of her MH-60R and headed her way.
“Morning, Boss.”
“Plug. You been out here long?”
“Just a few minutes. Schwartz is in the OPS tent, but he’s supposed to be here any moment. The SEALs are all ready to go.”
“Are the aircrews?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Plug seemed more serious than normal. He was focused. It was game time, she realized.
“The bird is ready?”
“Good to go.”
The four helicopters were parked twenty yards away from each other, lined up in a row. Auxiliary power carts and maintenance men were positioned in front of each aircraft. Ordnancemen had just finished their preflight weapons checks. A tense silence hung in the air. The other pilots and aircrews now stood in a group next to the special operations men, directly in front of the helicopters. Whispers and nervous laughter. Triple checks of gear and plans.
Plug asked one of the other pilots, “What time is sunrise?”
“Late. After zero seven. We’ll be on goggles until we reach our target.”
Plug nodded.
A golf cart drove from the OPS tent to the gathering on the flight line. The general’s aide indicated for Victoria and the DEVGRU commander to get in. They were driven to the OPS tent and led into a room with a large paper chart spread out over a central table. Lining the edge of the tent were computers and communications equipment. Several men wearing headphones frantically spoke and typed, funneling information to the group.
General Schwartz saw them enter. He said, “The Chinese fleet was spotted by one of our Triton drones an hour ago. Before it was shot down, we were able to intercept communications between the Chinese aircraft carrier and the Jiaolong-class ship.” The general paused and looked up. “They changed course and now are headed straight towards Johnston Atoll. Our intelligence tells us that we can expect an attack on Johnston Atoll at any time over the next few hours, with an attack on Hawaii following that.”
Victoria was eager. “We can launch anytime.”
“It’s time to tell the team what our plan really is,” General Schwartz said.
Victoria and the DEVGRU commander nodded in agreement.
A few minutes later, General Schwartz spoke to the aircrews and special operations team in front of the waiting helicopters. The group was quiet, standing in the dark on the flight line. The sound of waves on the distant Hawaiian shoreline.
General Schwartz said, “Men, for the past week you’ve been training to land at Johnston Atoll. Well, there’s been a change of plans. Your mission will be very similar to the training we’ve done. But you aren’t flying to Johnston Atoll.”
Stunned silence. Someone rolled out a cart and shined a red flashlight on it. It was filled with large white cylinders. Victoria recognized them as signal underwater sound (SUS) buoys.
“Each aircrew needs to have two of these on their aircraft.”
Then the general and some of the civilian staff explained the change in the mission. Victoria and the DEVGRU commander were already aware. They had been sworn to secrecy until now.
At last Victoria said, “There’s one more thing. With this change, we may not have enough fuel to make it back to a landing spot.” She looked over the crews. “Anyone have a problem with that?”
No one spoke.
“General, we’re ready.”
Thirty minutes later, the four helicopters taxied to the runway and took off. They flew south over the Pacific, taking turns refueling on a pair of littoral combat ships. Then they continued on, the red sun rising in the east, and the Chinese fleet ahead of them.
37
Admiral Song watched the battle unfold from his bridge, several stories above the bustling flight deck. He wasn’t thrilled about the night operations. His carriers weren’t as well versed in night ops as their American counterparts. But they would manage. Below him, the J-15 jets were being positioned for launch, missiles and fuel tanks filling them to capacity.