Gannet slammed into the parked UAVs, the warhead blasting and shredding the parked drones. Osprey followed close behind. Secondary explosions followed as the drone’s warheads exploded. Woody Island lit up as flames towered into the air. Fire trucks attempted to tackle the blaze but were beaten back.
At Duncan Island, it was a similar story. The bulk of the built-up area was to the east. Pelican came in from the north flying over the landscape and calibrating its navigation computers. It turned hard to the west and flew down a causeway. Pelican slammed into the drone storage area. The blast devastated the area flames leapt into the sky. Penguin, Gull and Puffin soon added to the carnage.
IT WAS OH TWO FORTY hours. USS Stonewall Jackson hung at 110 feet deep off Bamboo Wanjiaotou point, east of Yulin naval base Hainan Island, the main Chinese nuclear submarine base. Operation Joshua, the bugging of underwater communication cables, was underway. Innes and Alves had been out there for ninety minutes.
“We have a signal from the sail sir,” said the COB.
“What?” They hadn’t been out long.
A while later after decompression, Nathan walked back to the lower hatch. It opened and some water spilt on the deck. Innes and Alves climbed down and the two seamen helped them with their rebreathers and the rest of their gear. If this had been a success, then they’d gone further than anybody could expect.
“What went wrong? How did it go?”
“Fine sir. The bug’s in place. I think they were so confident, they only had one trip wire laid out.”
“So all’s well?”
“Yes sir. Operation Joshua’s completed.”
Nathan shook his head. It could be that way when you’re lucky. The crowning point of the mission had been easy. Nathan grinned. “Well, I thought it was going to be a bag of dicks out there.”
“No sir, it was easy.”
“Great. Get some chow. Let’s get out of here.”
Nathan reported that Operation Joshua was completed. An hour later, Lieutenant Commander Lemineux, the boat’s Communications Officer, handed Nathan a communications slip.
“Message from COMSUBPAC, sir.”
PRIORITY RED
R 241347Z OCT 88 ZY09
COMSUBPAC PEARL HARBOR HAWAII//N1//
TO STONEWALL JACKSON
PACFLT// ID S072RQ81//
NAVAL OPS/02
MSGID/PACOPS 6722/COMSUBPAC ACTUAL//
MSG BEGINS://
CONGRATULATIONS USS STONEWALL JACKSON FROM A GRATEFUL NATION.
PROCEED TO GUAM FOR THREE WEEKS SHORE LEAVE. TRANSPORT WILL BE LAID ON TO PEARL OR SAN DIEGO FOR ANY CREW MEMBER. YOU WILL RETURN TO GUAM AS THOUGH AFTER A LOW KEY EXERCISE. THIS MISSION NEVER HAPPENED. COMPETE AND TOTAL SECRECY TO BE MAINTAINED. MISSION STATUS CODE RED ALPHA PLUS. REPEAT. CODE RED ALPHA PLUS.
MSG END//
Code red alpha plus. That meant that the release of any mission information could result in the offending crew member’s execution, followed by an official cover-up.
Nathan knew that they’d just carried out a black operation of the highest order. He rubbed his temples. Code red alpha plus, why me? Why me?
THE BOAT RETURNED TO Guam in the early hours of the morning, the crew took their breakfast and readied for departure. Nathan returned to his cabin to find a personal letter on his desk. He opened it.
“Your presence is required immediately, at the Tamuning Hotel, South Marine Drive. I need your attention and I need it now. Yours, Nikki.” Nathan smiled, then readied his bag, left the boat and took a cab from the front gate.
PAUL LOOKED AT THE airport monitor. His flight was there, listed on the Washington Dulles departure board. It had been a rush to buy his ticket, but there’d been time.
Zhi Ruo had disappeared from the cabin in West Virginia after the clash between the FBI and the CIA.
Paul Wicks hadn’t seen nor heard from her in three weeks. He’d been told under strict secrecy restrictions by his Director that nothing of what had happened in West Virginia had actually happened. Zhi Ruo didn’t exist, he’d never heard of her.
The clash had been hushed up and had officially never happened.
If he spoke about any of this to anyone, he’d be in a world of shit.
He missed her badly.
The letter had been delivered by hand to his sister yesterday morning; whoever delivered it was Asian, that much he knew. He opened it as soon as he got it home. Its contents were the last thing he expected.
Paul Wicks opened the 11 x 8.5 letter yet again.
It was a personal letter from Zhi Ruo.
She wasn’t an MSS agent at all. It turned out that she’d actually framed the Chinese Ministry of State Security.
She was employed by the National Security Bureau; her country’s intelligence service, but her country wasn’t The People’s Republic of China. Her real name wasn’t Zhi Ruo, either. It was May Hsin.
He read her letter for the hundredth time.
“Paul, I’m sorry for deceiving you, but I had to do it.
Please come and visit me in my beautiful city. I will explain everything. I miss you, May.”
He looked at the photograph of her in a green leafy park looking down over a city. She was smiling. He knew he had to see May Hsin again.
Behind her, to her left, was a tall tower looking like a series of upside down pyramids. The 101 tower had been the world’s tallest building until recently.
Paul looked at the airport departure board. It was time to leave for the gate; the flight to Los Angeles LAX would leave soon. Then it would be the cross Pacific flight. May Hsin waited for him in her beautiful city. Paul’s onward flight was to Taipei. Taiwan.
AFTER THE CONFLICT, CIA investigations had determined that the sinking of the huge Chinese container ship, COSCO SHIPPING SCHELDT, by a submarine, had been carried out by a Taiwanese boat to draw the People’s Republic into hostilities. It had meant that much to Taiwan.