Warshot (The Hunter Killer Series Book 6) by Don Keith (top ten ebook reader TXT) 📗

The trip to periscope depth and copying the broadcast proceeded without event. But then, as Admiral Yon Hun Glo read through the intelligence summary, he noted one message that immediately raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Navy Intelligence was reporting that an American submarine was scheduled for a port call in Subic Bay, Philippines, due to arrive sometime within the next four to eight days. The analysts gave the report a very high probability based on the reliability of the sources cited within the Philippines.

Yon Hun Glo smiled to himself as he read the information and credit given to the very spy network that he and his brother maintained in the Pacific island nation. Filipino civilian dock workers at the base. A stock clerk for a supplier. Deckhands on harbor tugs. Hotel clerks, taxi drivers, dollar-to-peso currency-exchange spots, anyone who might be alerted to expect an uptick in business. Even bar maids at the many joints that ringed the sprawling Subic Bay Freeport Zone—as the former US Naval Base was now known—just as they inevitably did at any port anywhere in the world. They all seemed to know the comings and goings of ships, aircraft, troops, and other assets, all before anyone else, and with impressive accuracy. They were also happy to accept a nice payment for information that proved to be correct and useful, even if they had no idea about the source of such extra income. Many of them unabashedly trafficked info to all sides if there was money to be made.

The admiral keyed the navigation display screen to shift to a scale that showed all of the South China Sea and beyond, out into the Philippine Sea between Luzon and the Marianas. Fiddling with the controls, he back plotted several possible tracks for the American submarine and immediately saw the very real possibility that its route might well pass right by where he was leading his little lang qun. That would be disastrous. The Americans were good. They were also relentless. Though they would have no reason to suspect that four Chinese submarines were transiting in the vicinity, and despite the PLAN boats’ stealth, there was a real chance they would be detected. That must not occur.

After staring at the electronic chart for a long time, Yon Hun Glo remembered yet another one of the interminable Sun Tzu sayings that his brother was always quoting: “Be where your enemy is not.”

But how could he tell for certain where that was? How far off plan did he dare redirect their course?

Then he saw a way. The shortest, least detectable, least expected route was right through the Philippines. Head south, down into the Sulu Sea, instead of north through the Luzon Strait. Then proceed through the Celebes Sea. He was well aware most of such a track would be within Philippine territorial waters. Going through there while submerged would be an act of war. But to hell with Philippine sovereignty. Such political territorial nonsense only mattered if he was caught. And nobody was going to catch his lang qun.

“Captain Liu, come to course south and steer for the Mindoro Strait,” Yon Hun Glo ordered. “Signal the lang qun to follow you.”

The political officer, Yu, snapped around to face him.

“Admiral, with all respect, we cannot simply make course changes on our own like this. We must discuss this in the context of broader Party objectives and potential ramifications. Then, when we have an approved plan, we would need to …”

Admiral Yon Hun Glo glared at the upstart and held up a hand, palm out.

“Political Officer Yu, there was no ‘we’ in my order. Nor was there any room for opinion or discussion. Take this as your one warning. If you dare to question any of my orders in the future, you will learn about ‘broader Party objectives’ in a very hard and painful way. Do you understand?”

The diminutive officer seemed to shrink to an even smaller stature under the flag officer’s tirade. He could only nod meekly that he understood, then slink off toward his stateroom.

“Now, Captain Liu, carry out my orders. Make best course for the Sulu Sea and then through to the Celebes Sea.”

For an instant, Yon Hun Glo actually hoped the submarine captain would question his orders, too. Then he could unleash the full wrath and power of his exalted position in the People’s Liberation Army Navy.

No such opportunity. The naval officer was well indoctrinated into doing what he was ordered to do by a superior without question. He promptly gave the orders to assume the new course. If there was an issue, it would be between the admiral and the political officer. And, as the Americans would say in their western movies, “Let the chips fall where they may.”

Ψ

HMAS Audacious was exactly where Commander Geoffrey Smythe wanted to be, doing a barrier search fifty miles to the west of the Paracel Islands. The Chinese wolf pack would surely turn south after clearing the shallow water around Hainan and head down the South China Sea. The Australian submarine was perfectly positioned to detect them and then fall into trail behind them to try to learn what they were up to.

Smythe knew that the Type 2076 sonar with which Audacious was equipped was far superior to the Yuan’s sensors. He also knew that his boat was quieter than anything the Chinese had afloat. It would not exactly be easy since he was outnumbered, but he also figured that four-on-one was about even odds.

The first leg, from west to east, had come up cold. It was time to turn around and do an east-to-west leg.

“Watch Officer, come left and steady on course two-seven-zero,” he ordered.

The big diesel submarine had just begun its turn when Sonar reported, “Possible contact on the 2065 towed array just before the turn. Best ambiguous bearings zero-three-zero and one-five-zero.”

Smythe smiled broadly as he grabbed the microphone. “Sonar, classification on the