As surrounding ships came into view, the reporter continued. “Bernard, as you can see, the USS James Webb is a huge aircraft carrier, with a displacement of 110,000 tons fully loaded, the biggest ship in the U.S. Navy’s arsenal. The number 80 is the hull number. They call this CVN-80, for carrier vessel nuclear. The ship has two nuclear reactors, four turbines, and four screws, and has a crew of five thousand men.”
“Coming into view next to the Webb are the other two aircraft carriers of the fleet, and as you can see, they are forming a triangle, the lead ships in this mighty armada. On the top of your screen is the USS Kinnaird McKee, CVN-81, and at the bottom you should be seeing the third carrier, the USS Franklin Roosevelt, CVN-82. Behind the three aircraft carriers, in two rows of five, are the ten Aegis cruisers assigned to the task force. Behind them, Bernard, are three rows of seven ships, the destroyers and frigates.”
The chopper climbed even farther, so that the ships behind the carriers came into view. They were beautiful, sharp daggers slicing into the sea, their positions precise in the formation, their wakes ruler straight.
“Behind the warships are six support ships. As you can see, these ships are quite large, the oilers and supply vessels. The ships are sailing in absolutely straight rows and columns. It looks like a parade, except a parade at sea. All the ships are flying giant American flags, and, Bernard, the formation is sailing so precisely that even the radars, the big structures rotating in circles, are synchronized, rotating together. It is just amazing. Then, Bernard, come the troop ships of this convoy. It is absolutely breathtaking seeing so many huge ships. These ships look like toys from up here, arranged in a precise formation of five ships across, fourteen rows of them, a total of seventy troop ships carrying the 375,000 troops of the Rapid Deployment Force.”
The helicopter circled back and flew down the row of ships, seeming to stretch all the way to the horizon.
“Bernard, despite the ships steaming five and six across, the convoy is three miles long! It is perhaps the largest show of naval force ever put to sea.”
“Christie,” an off-camera voice asked, “how will these troop ships get the men ashore? Is it expected that these ships will just dock at a harbor and offload the men?”
While he’d been talking, the lead ship of the convoy, the Webb, came back into view. The camera panned in, the ship growing to its true formidable size, taking up the entire on-screen view.
“Well, Bernard, we’ve been told that of the seventy troop ships, the first twenty are amphibious vessels. By amphibious, we mean that the ships can either half climb up on the shore or have front-loading doors or both, with some of them offloading by opening giant doors in the back and letting off hovercraft and swimming troop transports, even some tanks that come ashore like boats, but that then just keep driving up on the beach and on into the countryside. The amphibious ships all contain the U.S. Marines, and we’ve been told that the Marines will be landing first. Once the beachhead is secured, the Army troops will follow. The other fifty ships are more like standard cargo carriers, with containers that will be offloaded later in the invasion, Bernard.”
The deck of the carrier had come close again, until the view resembled its earlier patch of deck and sea and sky. The chopper bounced on the deck, and then the view became steady. The background noise that the reporter had been shouting over suddenly died, a whooshing sound coming as the rotors wound down.
“Christie, has there been any word on the location of the landing?”
“No, in fact, Bernard,” the reporter said as she climbed out of the helicopter. Handing her helmet back, she flashed her dazzling television newscaster smile at the Navy petty officer. “We’ve been prohibited from going anywhere near the navigation equipment or charts of any kind. In addition, our computers have all been checked to have the satellite-positioning software removed. At this point we can only guess what our position is, but from some of the flyovers done by charter aircraft, and by guessing our speed, we estimate that within the hour we should be crossing the line of the Ryukyu Island chain, which is the border of the East China Sea. From there we’ll be heading to our beachhead on the White Chinese coast. Once we get to the beach, the name of this operation will change to Operation White Hope. Back to you, Bernard, this is Christie Cronkite, onboard the USS James Webb, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, reporting for SNN World News.”
“Thank you, Christie, and now we pause for these words…”
“This is Christie Cronkite, onboard the USS James Webb…”
“Turn it off,” Pacino said.
Since Donchez’s last words had deleted themselves from the screen twenty minutes before. Pacino had stared out the window for most of that time. Finally he’d pulled himself together, blinking, his eyes scratchy and swollen. The first thing he’d done was call for Paully to put on SNN, to see what had happened to the Whites.
Once he saw how the ships were steaming in a rank-and-file formation, he’d been shocked speechless.
“Warner didn’t listen,” Pacino said finally.
“I would have thought for sure she would listen to you this time,” Paully said. “After all, didn’t she say she guaranteed she’d listen?”
“I guess she listened but didn’t act,” Pacino said between clenched teeth. “I can’t believe this. Those ships are sitting ducks. If any of what Donchez said is true, that fleet could be doomed.”
“Is there anything we can do about it? You want to talk to O’Shaughnessy? I can patch him in.”
“Why? I said my piece. Somehow the word didn’t get through. Now, those Rising Suns may be out there. They’ll pick off those ships in the convoy like shooting fish in a barrel.”
“We’ve got some work to do, boss. And we don’t have any time.”
“Okay, how far to Pearl?”
“About three hours.”
“Time enough. I’m going to change my mind. Get O’Shaughnessy on the video. While I’m talking to him, you’ve got to find Tanaka.”
“Admiral Tanaka? Can I ask what’s on your mind?”
“Tanaka designed the Rising Sun subs practically by himself, we’ll need him. Next, get on the horn and find out the status of the Pearl Harbor boats. I want every unit to get out to the East China Sea as soon as possible. Tell them to throttle up to emergency flank.”
“Emergency flank? Are you serious? You’ll be throwing away twelve nuclear reactors, you know that. You’re talking about two hundred million dollars of replacements, with drydock time piling up to a year for each boat. Emergency flank will make every ship radioactive up to the forward bulkhead of the torpedo room.”
“Paully. Emergency flank. Now.”
“Aye, sir. Your fleet. Your stars.”
Exactly, Pacino thought. The stars that he needed to earn once more, and damned quickly. White moved aft to where he’d piled his computer equipment, and began working. Pacino looked out the window. The clouds were all far beneath the plane, and nothing was visible above but the brilliant stars. The past will forgive you, Pacino thought. Follow your instincts, Mikey.
“Admiral? The CNO is up and on the seat screen.”
“Thanks, Paully.” Pacino punched the fixed-function key, and a glowering O’Shaughnessy came up, his hair rumpled, wearing a robe. His face was stubbled, his eyes puffy. “What do you want?” he said, his voice flat.
“What happened after I left. Admiral? The fleet’s steaming like ducks in a shooting gallery.”
“We were overruled. The fleet’s making a max-speed run for the coastline. Warner’s not in the mood to zigzag. Or to execute a feint. They should hit the beach in a matter of hours, and it’ll all be over.”