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

on a submarine short of something requiring a drydock. This saved almost two weeks of steaming each way for any boat operating in Southeast Asian waters.

The big 767 slapped down on Pago Pago’s main runway and taxied over to an out-of-the-way corner of the apron. Glass could see a pair of C-17 Globemaster airplanes being unloaded directly to a pair of CH-53K heavy-lift helicopters. He smiled. That was certainly one of the benefits of using the Chesty Puller. She came with her own heliport.

“Proper preparation prevents poor performance,” Glass muttered under his breath as he slid from his seat and pulled his sea bag from the overhead rack.

“Sir?” a sailor in the aisle in front of him asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just something a former skipper of mine used to tell us.”

Ψ

Vice Deputy to the Minister of National Defense Soo Be Xian sat at his desk and watched the large monitor hanging on the far wall of his office. In split-screen on the other end of the video conference were Colonel General Xiang, Commanding General of Southern Theatre of Operation, and his Chief of Staff, Major General Shun. General Shun had just spent the last fifteen minutes explaining the tactical positioning of the three brigades from Fourteenth Army in the heavily forested highlands overlooking Lao Cai on the Red River in the far southernmost reaches of China. His elaborate maps and animation clearly showed how the mounted infantry units and armor brigades could be driving into Vietnam within an hour of receiving such operational orders.

Shun shifted the map to the east, down to where the border was depicting a decided bend into Vietnam to form the Muc Nam Quan border crossing. The bulge on the map, barely two miles wide and roughly four miles long, moved the border from the ancient Ming Dynasty Friendship Pass further into what had once been eight square miles of Vietnamese territory. This seemingly minor result of the 1979 Sino-Vietnamese War still rankled Vietnamese pride, even after all these years.

“We have moved the One-Twenty-Third Infantry Division to the Daxiang Reservoir area,” Shun was explaining, waving his laser pointer to an area on the map only a few miles north of the disputed border crossing. “The Fifteenth Armored Brigade and the One-Twenty-First Motorized Infantry Brigade are both encamped in the hills just east of Youyizhen.” He waved the pointer to an area a little further south.

Soo Be Xian nodded, understanding. The two generals had done exactly what he had ordered. However, the Vietnamese reaction so far had been much more measured than he had expected. They had only moved a few more companies of border guards north. Even the Coast Guard attack on the fishing fleet had only resulted in a minor diplomatic clamor and a Vietnamese request for still more arms from the US. He apparently needed more provocation if he was going to goad them into some action that he could turn right around and claim as a preemptive attack by the Vietnamese. A reaction in response to their unprovoked assault on the Middle Kingdom’s sovereignty.

“General Xiang, I want you to move a battalion of main battle tanks right up on the border at the Muc Nam Quan border crossing. I want them so close to the border that if a mosquito flies out of the gun barrel, it will be in Vietnam. Am I clear?”

General Shun smiled. He, too, was disappointed their activities so far had not resulted in the opportunity for his forces to demonstrate their might in defense of China.

“Honored Vice Deputy, the Twenty-Second Tank Battalion is a Rapid Reaction Unit. It is equipped with the latest Type 99B main battle tanks. They can be lined up at the border crossing in two hours.”

The screen showed an animated video sequence of a dozen tanks charging ominously down the Nan You Gao Su Road toward the border crossing.

Clearly impressed, Soo Be Xian smiled.

“Excellent! Make it happen now. And I have something a little more lethal that I want you to put in motion. From that Special Operations Brigade that you have in Guangzhou, I want you to move the best platoon of covert operators down to Fangcheng. From there, make arrangements for the team to do a covert insertion across the border into Vietnam. There is a Texhong facility just outside Quang Dien that must be destroyed. The extraction can be noisy. In fact, very noisy would be better for our purposes.”

General Shun nodded grimly. An attack on the well-known yarn company’s factory at the industrial park was required. It was not his role to question why. But the slight grin that crept onto his face assured that he was pleased to do his commander’s bidding.

“Honored Vice Deputy, I have the best covert operations team in the PLA. And, for once, they will not be nearly so covert.”

10

Yon Hun Glo watched carefully as the quartermaster plotted the latest GPS position on the submarine’s electronic chart. When he was completely satisfied that the sailor had accurately plotted Wushiwu’s position, the admiral ignored all the technology available to him and used his thumb and index finger to walk off the distance to the Mindoro Strait. He really wanted to make the transit through the narrow strait between the islands of Busuanga and Mindoro under the cover of darkness. That way there would be much less chance of being detected in that narrow and heavily traveled stretch of water.

Yon Hun Glo did the familiar time/distance/speed calculation in his head. They needed to make four hundred and seventy kilometers. At their current twelve-knot speed, they would arrive in the straits in the middle of the afternoon. Not acceptable.

“Comrade Captain Liu Zhang,” the admiral said, glancing up at the submarine’s captain. The admiral no longer made any effort to avoid sounding condescending when he spoke to the commanding officer. “Please signal the lang qun to come left to course one-four-seven and slow to ten kilometers per hour.” Yon Hun Glo stopped, watching the toady little officer constantly nodding