Tipping Point: The War With China - the First Salvo (Dan Lenson Novels) (43 page)

He looked at the overhead. “Finally, we can’t talk about a major conflict without addressing Taiwan. If the fat goes in the fire, the mainlanders will ramp up to get that settled once and for all. Carrier access denial in the strait would affect our operations tremendously. Meaning a lot of our surface and potentially subsurface assets not being able to break out of Yokosuka or Guam.”

He beckoned to a four-striper who Dan assumed was the chief of staff. “However, it’s important to remember: we’re not yet at war. Right now, we’re just redeploying to support our allies. I don’t want to get into internal politics, but the wounding of General Zhang in Mumbai has brought the hawks in Beijing out in force. China has been beating the drums about being isolated and surrounded for years. They may see this as the opportunity to break out.

“More immediately: as we move east, our major choke point will be the Malacca Strait.” A new image came up, zoomed in, and Dan recognized the narrowing northwest-to-southeast slant. “South of Kuala Lumpur, three hundred miles of narrow passage, ending at a melee of islands and the Singapore Strait. I won’t kid you, we’re vulnerable in close quarters.” Simko searched faces, found Dan’s. “But not helpless. As Captain Lenson showed us recently in the Strait of Hormuz. Dan, good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too, Admiral.”

“As most of you know, Captain Lenson commands USS
Savo Island,
the first of our TBMD shooters. If this mess goes hot, he’ll be our umbrella. Dan, stick around after this breaks up. Got some things I’d like to go over with you.” Simko turned away without waiting for an answer, and beckoned the four-striper up.

His first slide read:
POLITICAL ALIGNMENTS IN SOUTHEAST ASIA
. “All right … negotiations are ongoing, as you might imagine. Right here, right now, is where we find out who our friends are.

“Burma—Myanmar—is firmly in the Chinese camp. So far, we have commitments to provide facilities and protect our passage from Indonesia, Thailand, and Malaysia. Also, interestingly, an offer of refueling and logistics from Vietnam.

“As to Singapore. As many of you know, we’ve had a repair and logistics agreement there since ’92, in Sembawang. But they have a large Chinese population and a lot of investment. The mainland’s their largest source of imports, especially food. So far, indications are we’ll probably get unmolested passage, but no fuel or other services. They might give us back-channel I and W and contact reports. I’ve got the naval attaché working it … but right now, they’re trying to play both sides. Can’t really blame them, given the pol/mil geometry.

“The Europeans sound like they’re going to stand clear too. Especially since the Russians are making trouble again over gas deliveries and eastern Ukraine.” The captain looked at the slide. “We may get lip service from the Brits, but that’s all. New Zealand’s announced its neutrality. On the other hand, the Australians are with us, though it means they’ll lose a lot of their raw-materials exports. We had to promise to buy their whole production for the next three months.”

Dan shivered. Why did this still feel so much like 1914? The fire wasn’t burning out. If anything, it was spreading. The nations were separating into opposing camps, and not always on the side they’d seemed to favor in prewar calculations. Each with its own ambitions and humiliations, throwing them onto the growing bonfire.

The briefer glanced at the sealed door, and the sentry beside it. With one outside, at the ladder landing, too, no doubt. “All right. Gentlemen, ladies … Everything from here on out is classified TS.”

The group stirred; notepads and PDAs were turned off and put away. The first slide read:

This Briefing Is Classified

(TOP SECRET/SACHEL ADVANTAGE/IRON NOOSE)

OPLAN 5081

CHINA

Dan blinked, recognizing the same op plan Niles had showed him at the Pentagon. The next slides backed up and amplified aims, intents, and threats. The slide after that read

This Briefing Is Classified

(TOP SECRET/SACHEL ADVANTAGE/SABER POINT)

OPLAN 5027

NORTH KOREA

The four-striper pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. “OPLANs 5081 and 5027 have been activated. 5081 is operations against China. 5027, against North Korea. After a good deal of to-and-fro with civilian leadership, JCS has managed to get the trigger pulled on the time phased force and deployment orders. Which is why we’re headed east.

“Obviously, we’re never going to invade and conquer mainland China. For one thing, they have a thermonuclear arsenal. For another, we couldn’t defeat the Chinese army in 1953, so we sure aren’t going to now.

“The side that strikes first will gain a significant advantage. When the light turns green, we will move rapidly to disrupt command, control, and communications, breaking the kill chain that allows hostile forces to localize and target us. That includes deep strikes by Air Force stealth … and other measures to degrade space and cyberspace assets and sensors.”

For some reason, Dan got a glance then too.

“Meanwhile, we take, hold, or neutralize offshore assets that threaten the inner island chain, while our allies mobilize and we bring up additional battle groups from the States and the Med.

“Incidentally, the cyberattacks against the continental U.S. have been traced to China. We also expect major efforts in anti-access areas and area denial, along with a push to degrade and compromise our own C4I.”

The briefer shrugged. “There may be initial confusion, minor initial losses, but once we’re fully mobilized, have sealed off their exits and mined their ports, we can sit tight and wait for them to come out. The East and South China Seas and the Sea of Japan will be kill zones.

“The biggest factor in our favor is economic. The U.S. and most of our allies are self-sufficient in food and energy. But China has to have imports,
and
exports. Our estimates are that they’ll run out of oil and food within six months. They’ll have to lay off millions, and ration food. Unemployment, inflation, food shortages: either the Zhang regime falls, or it has to deal. Economic exhaustion, hunger, plus force attrition … leads to the conference table, and conflict termination.”

The chief of staff looked to Simko. “That concludes my briefing. Admiral?”

The battle group commander flicked to a final slide, with bulleted points. “Our terms are: regime change; renunciation of their claims to Taiwan, the Senkakus, and in the South China Sea; an end to support of North Korea; and a significantly reduced conventional order of battle. Leaving us in control in the western Pacific, and China weakened and with a more democratic government.”

Simko inspected the overhead again. “Faced with those choices, we expect—or maybe it would be more accurate to say,
Washington
expects—their leadership to back down. Withdraw from India, and de-escalate with Japan. If they don’t, a short war, with a compressed time frame and limited aims.

“But success will depend on speed and coordination. Strike Group One has to be ready. We will conduct a combined exercise en route to Singapore.” He glanced at the door. “Your go-home packages contain a training schedule and briefings outlining the OPLANs just discussed. Restrict access and read-in to TAOs, intel, comms, strike, and AAW officers. A supplement specifies what crypto to draw and which broadcasts, settings, and other terminations to set up for follow-on data. Also, expect unannounced MDUs and practice strike operations.”

Simko clicked the display back to the group logo. “All right, maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves, but I wanted you all to have the SI picture as we see it at the flag level. So there won’t be any doubts, or surprises. Questions?”

Dan sat knitting his fingers. A war without doubts or surprises? The Air Force was going to conduct deep strikes, and the Chinese weren’t going to retaliate? What if they thought their nuclear deterrent was being targeted?

A hand, in the back. “You mentioned the Russians, Admiral. Any idea where they’re putting their chips?”

Simko shook his head. “Russia and China have been close over the past few years. A lot of arms deals. But Zhang’s also mentioned a Chinese claim to Siberia. My sense is, Moscow will try to profit from both sides.… No other questions?” He caught Dan’s eye again. “Captain Lenson, come back to my in-port cabin before you fly off.”

A petty officer wheeled in a cart and began handing out sealed packages and getting signatures. The aide called “Attention on deck,” and everyone rose as Simko left.

Dan blew out and stood. Even if escalation could be avoided, why should the Chinese, with the biggest army on the planet, sit on their hands until they ran out of oil and food? That didn’t sound like Zhang. He was already feeding troops and support into the Chinese periphery—Pakistan, Bhutan, Myanmar, maybe North Korea. His cyberattacks had crippled U.S. transportation, financials, and security markets. Actual hostilities hadn’t even started, and already both sides were wrecking each other’s economies.

Brinksmanship. Bluff. And if they failed, a “six-month” war. The optimistic phrases echoed all too familiarly.

But there didn’t seem to be anything concrete he could object to. And no one else had any more questions—or at least any they voiced. Leaving in the enclosed air only a stir, a subdued murmur. Above it, the aide called out the order in which they should report to the flight deck.

Trying not to look as doubtful as he felt, he started to follow the others out. Then remembered: Simko. He turned in midstride, and went through a back door into the admiral’s cabin.

19

The South China Sea

THE
sun roared, sundering the sky. The sea shimmered flat in a burning summer heat. Already over a hundred degrees, and not yet 0800. Dan leaned over the splinter shield of the bridge wing, careful to keep his bare skin off broiling-hot steel. Looking down into a bright, deep blue, heart-stopping, sight-inviting, pulling the gaze and the mind down along the slanting shadows
Savo Island
cast like the beams of black searchlights. And here and there, every so often, a sea snake lifted its head, trailing a glittering V.

He was contemplating, once more, the advice Tim Simko had had for him, before Strike Group One had begun threading the strait. His actions off Pakistan were being viewed with disapproval in Washington.

“
Grave
disapproval, or so Fleet says,” Simko had told him, the two classmates alone in the in-port flag cabin, high in
Vinson
’s island. “But in view of the situation, I asked to hold on to you. There’s no one else I can slot in to command my only antiballistic missile unit. They can fight until the cows come home about whether you should’ve shot or not, but you’re still maintaining a 50 percent knock-down record. Which I gather is better than anyone back at Dahlgren expected.”

Dan had rubbed the back of his neck, where it usually hurt. Actually, where it almost always hurt, if he was honest about it. “Uh, that’s due more to my team than to me. I wouldn’t count on those numbers every time. But … you stonewalled them?”

Simko had grimaced. “Yeah. I stonewalled, Dan. And not just because you were a good midfield back at the Boat School, or because we have the same class number on our rings. I’ve absolutely got to have
Savo
at 4.0 readiness if the shit hits the fan. Anyway, if this situation goes hot, they’ll have a lot more on their plates at JCS than disciplining one trigger-happy officer.”

He’d sat forward, gripping his knees. “
Trigger-happy,
Tim? I took down those missiles to protect civilians. Just like it says to, in my ROEs.”

“Take it easy! I’m not saying
I
think that. Or even that it’s DoD. Just that certain elements, I gather on the congressional side, have a real hard-on for you.”

He’d known then exactly whom Simko meant. Who was behind the push for his disciplining and recall: Sandy Treherne. And probably others who hadn’t liked his response at the congressional hearing. The hard-liners. Like Ed Szerenci? Maybe. His old professor had always believed in overkill. “The last side to make the rubble jump will be the winner.” Had he really said that? Well, something a lot like it. “Tim, I heard you saying the administration expects the other side to back down. And those terms you mentioned—they sound like an ultimatum.”

“They do, don’t they.”

“I worked in the West Wing. I’ve seen the disconnects there, between what they wish they could do, what they eventually persuade themselves they can do, and what we can actually pull out of the fire for them. Just between us old Second Batt guys, how realistic is it that the Chinese will just … roll?”

Simko had just lowered his head. Not said anything. Until Dan had gotten the message, and stood. “Thanks, Tim. Guess I’d better catch that helo. Thanks for the vote of confidence.
Savo
will be there if you need her.”

Simko had risen too, and shaken his hand, and said he was confident she would be. And wished him well. But in a tone Dan wasn’t sure he liked. There’d been that ever-so-faint, yet unsettling, the-lights-are-going-out-all-over-the world ring to it.

Now he lifted his head, scalp baking in the burning sunlight, to survey distant clouds over islands that shimmered like fever dreams, with names from a Joseph Conrad tale. Pulau Mapur. Pulau Repong. Kepulauan Anambas. The morning sun slanting down to the east illuminated what looked like more of them, though these weren’t really there. Just mirages. Illusions. Quivering chromium islands afloat on molten, glittering gold.

The Sunda Sea. The Asiatic Fleet had died here. USS
Houston
and her aged cruisers and four-pipe destroyers, the cobbled-together ABDA command. Poorly prepared, badly led, outnumbered, outgunned, and outmaneuvered, they’d gone under in a hail of fire. So completely wiped out that even their fates had been matters of conjecture, until the few surviving POWs had emerged from the hell-camps at war’s end.

He looked back at ship after ship emerging between low, shockingly green islands. Destroyers, cruisers, and far behind them, like a thundercloud, the immense square bulk of the carrier. Specks glittered and swam around her; helicopters, searching the shallow seas as they negotiated the channel out. A submarine could lie doggo, hugging the bottom, to all intents and purposes part of it. Until it rose, and struck.