Hanson nodded. “This is the first boomer sailing that they’ve had in over a year. It’s also apparently taken place under extreme security. Given the current situation in China, we can’t afford to see this as being a coincidence.”
Childress’s breath trickled from between his lips in a whispered sigh. He sank down into one of the padded observation seats that looked out across the warroom.
“All right,” he said. “Is there any chance at all that we could be reading this wrong? That this could be some kind of routine evolution?”
Hanson shook his head. “Everyone has been running projections on the China crisis, CIA, DIA, NSA, RAND, everyone. And, for once, everyone is in agreement. They are all stating in no uncertain terms that the Communists are losing the war. Their backs are to the wall and the only option they might have left is to use the bomb … soon.
“God Almighty.” It wasn’t a profanity. It was a prayer.
The Security Adviser relentlessly pushed the point home.
“Mr. President, Red China’s reactivation of a major nuclear strike system at this time can have only one meaning.”
President Childress shook off the effect. “Where’s the Secretary of Defense?”
“Still at the Advanced Joint Services Fighter Trials in St. Louis. I’ve already had a sitrep relayed out to him. The same to the vice president. Do you want them recalled, sir?”
Childress nodded slowly. With his elbows resting on the chair arms and his fingers interlaced, he stared into the future.
“The Secdef, yes. Immediately. The vice president, no. In fact, I specifically want Stan to stay put out there in Utah. Do we have an E-4B in at Hill Air Force Base?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Then we’ll just put an enhanced communications and liaison staff in at his summer place. It might be a good idea to keep the National Command Authority dispersed for a while.”
“I concur, sir,” Hanson approved. The president was beginning to react to the crisis in much the same way he had to an in-flight emergency aboard one of his old ANG C-130s.
“What about the secretary of state?” Childress asked. “Has he been advised?”
“I got off link with Secretary Van Lynden just a couple of minutes ago. He wasn’t surprised. He indicates that this tracks with certain events that have been developing within the crisis-reduction talks over the past few days. Harry agrees with the assessment and he believes that the potential for a nuclear event does exist. He’ll be standing by to confer with you at your convenience, Mr. President.”
“Very well.” Childress nodded. “Hold a line on standby for me. Now, how about the military end of this thing?”
“General Landry is standing by with the word.”
America’s senior military officer straightened at Childress’s approach, the cluster of aides and advisers he had been in consultation with falling back respectfully.
“Mr. President.”
“The short version, Morrell. What do we have?”
The JCS chairman turned and indicated a map display on the repeater console beside him. “I’m certain that the National Security Adviser has already given you the basics, sir.
At about oh eight hundred Washington time, the Reds sortied a three-boat wolf pack out of Shanghai. Two Han-class hunter-killers and a late-model Xia missile boat. The NAVSPECFORCE destroyer that made the sighting was able to make a solid ID on all targets. Unfortunately, our ship was also spotted and was driven off under fire, losing the contact.”
General Landry indicated a glowing arc line on the graphics display of the East China Sea, Shanghai at its central point.
“Given the performance envelope of the involved classes of submarine, we know they still must be somewhere within this area. This zone of uncertainty grows, of course, for every minute we fail to reacquire contact.”
“What are we doing about it?” Childress demanded.
“Admiral Tallman, commanding Task Force 7.1, is currently deploying his forces to sweep for the boomer. CINCPAC has also made this Red wolf pack a priority tasking for our Okinawa-and Korea-based Orion squadrons. The problem is that the high belligerency level of the Red Chinese is probably going to make any kind of inshore ASW operations extremely difficult. Task Force 7.1 is already being sharked by Red air force units.” Landry hesitated for a moment, then continued. “In addition, sir, on my own authority, I have ordered Looking Glass One scrambled.”
Looking Glass One, the angel of death. The airborne command post that would assume control of America’s nuclear response forces should Washington, D.C., suddenly become an incandescent cloud of radioactive plasma.
Moving slowly and deliberately, Ben Childress removed his glasses. Taking a handkerchief from his suit pocket, he polished the lenses and asked himself for the ten thousandth time why anyone would become a president, or a military officer, or a teacher, or anything else that would place the destiny of another human being in their hands.
He redonned the glasses with a single crisp movement.
“All right, General. That’s what’s been done. What do you advise we do next?”
“The CNO wants to move a second carrier task force into the East China Sea as well as to move additional submarine and land-based ASW assets in-theater. I concur on all three actions. I feel that getting and maintaining a fix on this boomer is an absolute priority.
“In addition,” Landry continued, “I suggest we forward deploy the 336th Composite Strike Wing into our bases in Okinawa and Korea. They’re on Flyaway Alert now, and we can probably have the first elements in the air within four hours.”
“We’re talking about a major escalation here, General.”
The JCS chairman nodded. “Yes, sir, it is. Normally, I’d say that if we need to send a message, we use Western Union. However, if we’ve got somebody out there who’s even thinking about taking the nukes out of the box, we had better show them, and the entire world, that we’re taking it damn seriously.”
“Anything else?”
General Landry and Sam Hanson exchanged glances.
“Nothing more at this time, sir.”
“Very well. Proceed on all points.”
24
“What do you think, Arkady?”
“About what?”
“Submarine hunting.”
“Mucho divertimento. Very interesting work if you can get it.”
They were heading home, back to the Cunningham. Surfing low over the ocean’s surface, the Sea Comanche’s rotor wash whipped spray up behind her, spinning a rainbow in her wake as the wave crests flickered beneath her. Arkady was again flying with all stealth protocols closed up, seeking to avoid undue attention. Snowy contrails arcing across the blue of the sky marked the passing of other aircraft in the higher reaches, exact identity and intent unknown.
“What’s your opinion of the tech we’re going to be facing?”
Amanda persisted. She knew more than a little about the subject herself, but Vince Arkady was a dedicated LAMPS helo pilot. As such, he was perforce a master of the trade.
The aviator considered for a moment before replying.
“Better than first gen, anyway. The Reds are running albacore hulls and single-screw propulsion trains. I’d call the Han attack boats the equivalent of an early mark Permit class or an augmented Russian Victor 1. Early-seventies stuff, maybe with a few systems updated with imported tech.”
“How about the missile boat?”
“The same, only more so. Have you ever seen pictures of a surfaced Xia? They have a free-flooding deck casing around their missile tubes. I bet when that sucker maneuvers, it sounds like somebody flushing the John.”