“Missile alert! Active seekers bearing two nine zero. Missiles identified as SS-N-25s,” shouted the ESM operator.
Park’s head snapped back toward the master display; four bearing lines pointed in the direction of the incoming weapons. “How did…” The captain shook his head; there would be time to ask questions later, assuming they survived. For now, he had to act.
“Energize all radars! Weapons are released! Engage surface and air targets.”
“Comrade Vice Admiral,” Song cried. “Multiple hostile radars bearing red one six one!”
Gong raced to the port bridge wing and stared aft. On the horizon he could see one glowing flash after another. Missiles were being launched. “No!” he growled.
Spinning about he yelled at Song, “Order the missile squadron to engage! All ships, missile alert to port!” As Song began repeating the orders over the radio, Gong looked back to see the Soju missile boats already peeling away. He could only hope there weren’t many ships in the imperialist’s formation, otherwise they would all be dead.
The Soju missile boats began shooting their elderly Russian Styx missiles. One after another, each missile leapt from the launcher and arced skyward. There was nothing else to do but wait. It could be several minutes before the missiles would appear over the horizon.
“Missile alert! The Osa missile boats have launched,” yelled the TAO. There was fear in the man’s voice.
Park saw the sixteen new radar tracks, the icons showing the missiles’ location as they sped toward his ships. They had somehow walked right into a trap. Park knew his SAG was in real trouble. Even though the Styx missiles were less capable, there were more of them and they were closer. “Engage Styx missiles with SM-2! Have Yangmanchun prepare to engage with Sea Sparrow! All ships stand by with countermeasures!”
The KDX–II destroyer’s forward vertical launcher erupted in flames as SM-2 surface-to-air missiles thundered out of their launch cells and raced toward their targets. Moments later, two explosions marked the deaths of a Styx missile. More SM-2s were launched, but this time the intercept was a lot closer.
Park watched as his flagship downed six Styx missiles in rapid succession. Now, Yangmanchun began firing her shorter-ranged Sea Sparrows. Confident that the threat from the older antiship missiles was being dealt with, Park turned his attention back to the newer SS-N-25 Switchblade missiles that had been fired earlier, but from further away. His formation was in an optimum position to deal with the Styx attack, but not so well against the more modern threat. Specifically, the least capable ship, Masan, an Ulsan-class frigate, was the closest to the incoming attack. She had no missile defenses and most of her guns were manually aimed. They would be next to useless against a small sea-skimming target.
“Bridge, CIC, signal hard left rudder, new course two four five. All ahead flank. Execute immediately,” barked Park over the intercom. By changing course to the left, he hoped to unmask his aft director in time to get a shot off. If not, he needed to bring his point defense gun to bear, just in case. It was going to be close.
As the three ships started their turn, the SS-N-25 missiles cleared the horizon, their seekers looking for a target. Choi Young fired another two SM-2s, but only her forward director had a clear line of sight. Yangmanchun was out of the fight, her directors blocked by the flagship, but the KDX–I destroyer began popping chaff to try and lure the missiles away from the formation.
One of the SM-2s faithfully guided in and destroyed an antiship missile — splash one. But by this time, one of them was now heading directly to Choi Young; the other two had locked onto Masan. Park ordered the RAM operator to fire two rolling airframe missiles at Masan‘s assailants, then engage the one missile homing in on his ship. At a distance of half a mile, one of the RAM missiles locked onto the Switchblade’s infrared signature, homed in, and exploded — splash two.
Masan was not so fortunate. The point defense missiles couldn’t turn fast enough to catch the crossing targets as they flew by. The frigate’s guns had opened up, and tracers were streaming from all along the hull. One of the SS-N-25s was hit and detonated a hundred meters from the ship, pelting the hull and superstructure with high-speed fragments — splash three. But it was the fourth missile that killed her. It hit the frigate right at the waterline, burrowed deep inside her, and detonated. The force of the blast ripped the hull apart and broke the ship’s back. Masan was split in two. With both parts engulfed in fire, she slowly began to sink.
Gong knew the missiles were close when all four Soju missile boats suddenly exploded, bursting into flames. The fleet began firing all its guns in the general direction of the attacking wave, but there was little hope they’d do much good. Then explosions started dotting the port and center columns. The smaller gunboats simply disappeared after the massive blast, vaporized.
The 30mm Gatling guns on the frigate began roaring as they spewed projectiles toward the oncoming Harpoon missiles. One was hit and pitched into the sea, but another plowed into the hull amidships. The shock threw Gong to the deck. The lights flashed and then went out, as all electrical power was lost. The mortally wounded ship began leaning to port. The sound of fire raging below decks could be heard on the bridge. Great Leader was dying.
The admiral pulled himself up and struggled to the port bridge wing. Many of his ships were on fire, sinking; some were just gone, burning fuel marking their last known position. Then Gong saw the three Hantae-class landing ships. All had been hit. One had already capsized and another was being consumed by a firestorm. The South Korean onslaught of twenty-four Harpoons had ripped the heart out of his fleet.
The eleven members of the Central Military Commission sat in complete silence, awestruck by what they were hearing. An army senior colonel from the Second General Staff Department’s Second Bureau was wrapping up the intelligence assessment on the North Korea situation. The news was all bad.
“Late this morning, elements of the ROK Third Army overran the General Staff faction’s defenses at Sariwon,” said the senior colonel as he pointed to the large map display. “Resistance was limited, as the South Koreans had an overwhelming advantage in numbers and airpower. As of noon today, South Korean forces had penetrated over one hundred kilometers into DPRK territory in the west, and nearly seventy kilometers along the eastern coast. At their current rate of advance, both Pyongyang and Wonsan will fall in the next two to three days.”
President Wen sat quietly while the other members debated amongst themselves. This was the CMC’s sixth meeting in the last four days, and there was a growing consensus that China had to do something — but exactly what still eluded them.
“Senior Colonel,” injected the PLAN commander. “You say Wonsan could be taken by the South Koreans rather quickly. What about that General Staff amphibious attack force you told us about yesterday? Were they successful in landing and flanking the KWP positions?”
The senior army officer took a deep breath. What he was about to say wouldn’t go over well. “Admiral, the intelligence information is only a few hours old, and there is still considerable analysis to be done, but the initial estimate is that the General Staff faction landed only about half of their troops. The rest were lost when a ROK Navy missile strike inflicted severe casualties on the attack force.