Tiger's Claw: A Novel (15 page)

Read Tiger's Claw: A Novel Online

Authors: Dale Brown

Tags: #Thrillers, #Fiction, #War & Military, #General

FIVE

S
OUTH
S
EA
F
LEET HEADQUARTERS COMMAND POST
, Z
HANJIANG
, C
HINA

T
HAT SAME TIME

“Sir, our search helicopter is reporting a medium-sized helicopter approaching the crash site near our helicopters,” the controller reported aloud. “The pilot reports that it appears unmanned.”

“Acknowledged,” Vice Admiral Zhen Peng said curtly, stubbing out his cigarette. He was at the commander’s seat in his battle staff room at fleet headquarters on Hainan Island in eastern China, watching an electronic chart of the South China Sea. Thin, with a long angular face, longish jet-black hair, small dark eyes, and jutting cheekbones, Zhen at age sixty appeared to be no older than forty. He had risen quickly through the ranks after graduating from the naval academy in Beijing thirty-five years earlier, serving aboard mostly heavier warships before being given his stars and assigned to the South Sea fleet.

An unmanned helicopter, aboard a simple patrol craft? That was most interesting, Zhen thought. While he struggled every day to find and train helicopter pilots to fly off the aircraft carrier’s big deck—let alone do the much more difficult task of landing on a destroyer’s or frigate’s deck—the Americans were flying
unmanned
patrol helicopters. China needed to start doing that sort of thing right away. It was yet another reminder of the awesome military might of the United States, particularly its navy. Imagine what sort of weaponry a big-deck ship had if a lowly patrol boat embarked an unmanned patrol aircraft! Even though China was pouring trillions of
yuan
every year into new weapons systems, it would probably take an entire generation or two to build a force that could match the United States of America.

Which was another reminder of why China could not and should not try to do so, Zhen thought. China needed to think smarter and not just toss money at a losing proposition like trying to match America ship for ship, like the Soviet Union tried to do during the Cold War. It ended up bankrupting the country and left America as the world’s only superpower. China could follow the same path if it was not smarter.

There were other ways of moving the unmovable . . .
always
other ways.

“Where is the
Zhenyuan
?” Zhen asked.

“Forty kilometers south of the search helicopters, sir,” the controller responded.

“Tell Captain Zhang of the
Zhenyuan
to see to it that the American helicopter does not collide with our helicopters,” Zhen said.

“Captain Zhang reports that the American aircraft is very small, and it does not have a transponder that we can interrogate, sir,” the controller said after he made the radio call and received a reply. “He says the radar return is small and intermittent and that separation may not be possible.”

“Tell him I do not want excuses,” Zhen snapped. After a moment, he said, “The American helicopter is posing a serious hazard to our search helicopters. It is unmanned, does not have a transponder, it is beyond radar coverage of its mothership, and cannot look for nearby aircraft. This is clearly unsafe and is not permitted under maritime law.” He picked up a telephone, selected a channel, and waited for the secure satellite link to activate. “Captain Zhang.”

“I read you, sir,” Zhang, the captain of the aircraft carrier
Zhenyuan
responded.

“Deploy
Wúsheng Léitíng
against the unmanned helicopter in the search area,” Zhen ordered.

There was a slight pause on the other end; Zhen couldn’t be sure through the squeaks and pops of the secure satellite link, but it sounded as if Zhang was muttering something. It might be time for that old bastard to be replaced, he thought—how dare he question an order? Finally: “Deploy
Wúsheng Léitíng
against the umanned aircraft in the search area, yes, sir. Acknowledged.” Zhen hung up.

A few minutes later: “Sir, our search helicopters are withdrawing from the area,” the controller reported.

“Maintain surveillance,” Zhen said. “I want to know what that unmanned helicopter does.”

Yes, Zhen thought, there were many, many ways to move the unmovable.

 

U.S. C
OAST
G
UARD CUTTER
M
OHAWK

A
SHORT TIME LATER

“Bridge, Tactical,” Fells radioed, “Mohawk Zero-One reports he is retrieving what appears to be a victim. He will RTB immediately after hoist is completed.”

“Thank God they found one,” Sheridan muttered to himself. “Very well,” he replied. “Is the airspace still all clear?”

“Affirmative, sir. We can see into the original southern search box, and we have radar contact with the Eagle Eye. It appears the Chinese helicopters have departed the area.”

“Excellent,” Sheridan said. He was glad they departed, but he immediately became suspicious. Why would aircraft from an aircraft carrier pay any attention to orders from a foreigner aboard a ship a fraction of its size, not even a true warship? “Comm, Bridge, any response from our hails?”

“None from the Chinese, sir,” the communications officer replied. “Commercial vessels and a Filipino frigate responded and said they will remain clear but stand by in case they’re needed.”

Finally, Sheridan thought, some cooperation and a friendly warship to help out. He would’ve preferred it to be an American frigate, but any friendly help would be appreciated. “Very good. What’s the frigate’s position?”

“Thirty miles southeast of the southern search box. About two hours’ steaming time.”

“Request that they move closer to the box but remain clear for the time being, and pass along my . . .”


Bridge, Tactical, lost contact with the Eagle Eye!
” Fells interjected, using the direct “CALL” function of the intercom to interrupt all other communications.

Sheridan swore aloud. “Shit! What the hell happened, Ed?”

“Don’t know, sir. No malfunction annunciations. The thing just went dark.”

“Crap,” Sheridan muttered. All they had in the southern search box was the Global Hawk now. On the radio, he spoke, “Mohawk Zero-One, how’s it going?”

“Swimmer’s in the water,” Coffey replied. A moment later: “Sir, swimmer says the person in the water is
alive
! He’s busted up very badly and may not survive the return flight, but right now he’s breathing!”

“Sweet Jesus, that’s incredible!” Sheridan said. “Head back to the barn at best speed as soon as your swimmer’s aboard.”

“About five more minutes, sir.”

“Call sick bay, tell them we have a survivor inbound, ETE about an hour,” Sheridan said to the officer of the deck. “I want this guy alive.” He switched channels on the telephone. “Tactical, Bridge, Ed, any ideas on what the hell happened to the Eagle Eye?”

“None, sir,” Fells replied. “But from the initial reports I read about the P-8 incident, they reported the same thing: sudden loss of contact, no indications of a malfunction. It’s possible that whatever hit the Poseidon hit the Eagle Eye too.”

“Hit it? Like what? A missile, fired from a sub?”

“Possible, but unless the missile was some kind of a magical silver bullet, the aircraft would have reported multiple malfunctions before losing contact—engine fire, electrical, hydraulics, so on,” Fells said. “Whatever hit the P-8 and the Eagle Eye shut them down in the blink of an eye, before any malfunctions could be reported.”

“Mohawk One, Zero-One is RTB,” Coffey radioed.

Thank God, Sheridan breathed. With first the Poseidon gone and now the Eagle Eye gone but hopefully automatically on its way back, the South China Sea suddenly felt like a very dangerous place, and the quicker he got his last air asset back on the deck, the better. “You got the Jayhawk on radar, Ed?”

“Affirmative, sir,” Fells reported. “He’s doing a hundred knots, and his fuel reserves look good.”

 

S
OUTH
S
EA
F
LEET HEADQUARTERS
, Z
HANJIANG
, P
EOPLE’S
R
EPUBLIC OF
C
HINA

T
HAT SAME TIME

“Admiral Chen of the
Zhenyuan
is on the phone, sir.”

Admiral Zhen picked up the telephone. “Go ahead, Admiral Chen.”

“Sir, radar reports another aircraft, possibly a patrol helicopter, heading north away from the search area,” Chen said. “It was observed hovering for several minutes in an area just north of the search box.”

“A second search helicopter?”

“The high-endurance American cutters embark two rotary-wing search aircraft, sir, one manned and one unmanned,” Chen said. “The unmanned aircraft has been neutralized, but the second one is heading north at high speed.”

Heading back to its mothership, Zhen thought. And if it was hovering, it means it could have found something—and if that something could implicate China in the downing of the American search plane, his mission would have failed.

“Bring down that second patrol helicopter with
Wúsheng Léitíng,
Admiral Chen,” Zhen said. “I do not want that helicopter to return to the Coast Guard vessel.”

“Stand by, sir,” Chen said. Zhen’s anger rose as the seconds ticked by. Finally, Chen reported: “Sir, the helicopter is out of range of Silent Thunder.”

“Then order one of your screening vessels to shoot it down.”

Another maddening pause; this time, Zhen anticipated the reply: “Sir, we have no destroyers or frigates in position.”

“Then launch the alert fighter, Chen,” Admiral Zhen said. “Shoot down that helicopter.”


Repeat that last,
sir?” Chen asked in a high, squeaky voice, obviously not expecting that order whatsoever.

“That is the second time you questioned an order,” Zhen said. “I repeat, shoot down that damned helicopter! I do not want that helicopter to get back aboard that cutter! Acknowledge my order!”

“But sir . . . sir, none of our pilots are night carrier landing qualified, sir,” Chen said.

“What did you say, Chen?” Zhen thundered.

“Sir, this was a shakedown cruise for the deck handlers and propulsion section crews, not for night flight operations. Our pilots are day carrier landing qualified only!”

“I do not want excuses, Chen!” Zhen shouted. “Get a fighter and your best pilot airborne
now.
I do not care if he has to recover on a land base or if he has to ditch, but I want him airborne
now
!”

 

A
BOARD THE
P
EOPLE’S
L
IBERATION
A
RMY
N
AVY CARRIER
Z
HENYUAN

T
HAT SAME TIME

“Acknowledged, sir,” Admiral Chen responded, but the secure connection had already been broken. He immediately selected the telephone channel for carrier flight operations.

“Flight operations duty officer Lieutenant Wu, sir.”

“Captain Zhang,
immediately.


Shì de, xiânsheng,
” the duty officer replied. A few moments later: “
Hai Jun Shang Xiao
Zhang, sir.”

“Captain Zhang, launch the alert fighter,” Chen said. “Vector the pilot to an American helicopter flying north. I want it shot down immediately.”


Dui-bu-qi
,
xiânsheng?
” Zhang replied in disbelief.

“Immediately, Captain,” Chen said in a completely toneless, almost dead voice.

“Sir . . . Bolin . . .” Zhang said. He was one of the few junior officers on the entire vessel—in the entire
fleet
—allowed to call the admiral by his first name; they had known each other for years. “Are you damned sure you want to do this?”

“I have orders directly from South Sea Fleet headquarters, Peiyan,” Chen said in a low voice. “Directly from Admiral Zhen.”

“But you are still the captain of the
Zhenyuan
battle group, Bolin,” Zhang said. “You took a chance by complying with that order to shoot down the American patrol plane if it appeared it would not crash. I think you can escape retribution for that. But shooting down an unarmed patrol helicopter?”

“I have my orders, Peiyan.”

“I say again, you are the commanding officer of this entire battle group, Bolin,” Zhang said. “You have the ultimate authority and responsibility to refuse any order that might endanger your men or your vessels. Shooting down that helicopter will certainly result in immediate American counterattack on this battle group. Their carrier battle group will be within striking range in just a few hours!”

Chen hesitated for several moments, scanning the bridge and noting the duty officer and a few of the watchstanders glancing in his direction, wondering what the captain would do. Finally, Chen straightened his shoulders. “Launch the alert fighter, Captain Zhang. Immediately. Attack and destroy the American helicopter. Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged, sir,” Zhang responded in a voice even deader than Chen’s had been. “I will fly the sortie myself. Then, if we are shot or imprisoned as murderers, we will do so together.” And the connection was terminated.

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