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

Weiss stopped in on the way to say hello to Captain Wooten. Apparently, Captain Jones and Captain Wooten are old shipmates.”

Glass grabbed his coffee cup—no cream or sugar—and moved toward the conference table just as the other officers arrived. After greetings all around, and cups of coffee poured for all, the group sat down to business.

“As Senior Officer Present Afloat, USINDOPACOM has made me responsible for the security of the local area,” Glass told them as he opened the meeting. “If you have been keeping up with the news lately, you will already know that things are getting interesting, and from a lot of different directions. The announcement of the gold find at the bottom of the Tonga Trench has certainly focused some attention on this particular tropical paradise. The attack on our frigate and King Tofuwanga’s little performance at the UN has heightened security concerns. So has recent intel we’re getting from some well-placed sources within PLAN. This thing is a veritable stew of intrigue, apparently. The gold is only one element, pun intended. So is the recent ramp-up in the Chinese pressing their territorial claims by violent means. We’ve had very curious reports from some of our submarines that are keeping tabs on several Chinese boats. But our sources tell us that there is also some considerable in-fighting and intrigue within the Chinese military, with some high-placed individuals jockeying for power. They are apparently willing to push us close to war to achieve their goals. Besides, it appears their goals are not all the same.”

Glass took a sip of his coffee. All eyes were on him. It occurred to him yet again how far he was now from the wardroom of a submarine. “But our job is simply to watch and react to whatever all that James Bond stuff might end up being. I called us all together to see exactly what we have to play with and to set up a little planning on how we respond. Should it come to that.”

Looking around the table, Glass was pleased to see each officer nodding, listening. He went on. “For Naval assets, it looks like we have the Cheyenne. The sub should be completed with her maintenance and ready for underway in a couple of days. I’m thinking that the Puller is best kept here in Pago Pago and used as a command center.”

Captain Wooten offered his agreement. “That’s what she’s designed for. If we try to use her as a warship, she is only going to get in the way.”

“Once we get the ORCAs off-loaded and underway, we can use the Portland to show the flag when she is underway,” Glass went on.

Both Jones and Weiss started to speak, then Weiss nodded for Captain Jones to go ahead.

“We have a problem with that,” Jones reported. “ORCA TWO is down hard. Parts are being shipped in from the States, but even at best, it will take a couple of weeks to get it fixed. You don’t get parts for those submersibles at the local yacht marina. Until then, our well-deck is out of action, too. On the bright side, ORCA ONE is ready to go.”

Glass frowned.

“Not the best timing. That puts a crimp in our style. Let’s go ahead and get ORCA ONE out on mission. I want to keep constant eyes on the area that King Tofuwanga claims is his new backyard. We all know there is a reason for his choice of neighborhood. Can we do that?”

CDR Weiss answered, “No problem. As soon as we complete fueling and load the mission package, we can be underway. Say eight hours.”

Well, at least one thing is going our way, Glass thought. He turned next to the Marine.

“Colonel, it looks like you are our boots on the ground if we need them. Where are you going to be useful?”

Lt. Col. Readly sat up straight. “Captain, I have a Marine Special Purpose Force detached from the Fifteenth Marine Expeditionary Unit. I have three hundred and twenty shooters. The MSPF is qualified Special Operations Capable. You get us where you need us and tell us what you want done. We’ll get it done.”

Glass did not doubt it. Not for a second. Not from the set of the Marine officer’s jaw.

Ψ

The USS Boise slowly turned in a big arc to the east. Her skipper, Chet Allison, his eye pressed to the periscope eyepiece, watched disbelievingly as the unexpected scene unfolded. Two Chinese SSNs were broached on the surface, just visible against the night sky, barely three thousand yards away. A full moon added illumination to the scene so that Boise’s skipper could just make out the activity topside as the two submarines launched several small craft, probably inflatable boats.

As many times as he had shadowed Chinese submarines in his career, this was the first time he had actually seen one live and in color and on the sea surface. Just then, a new element was introduced into the unfolding event.

“Conn, ESM. Detecting an SPS Fifty-Five surface search radar. Just lit off. No threat to us. Probability of detection for the surfaced submarines, very high.”

Someone else was in the vicinity, also watching the Chinese boats. However, they were using radar to do so.

Lieutenant Juan Esteban, the battle-stations officer of the deck, keyed the 21MC, responding, “Conn, aye.”

So, who else was out there? Allison spun the scope around until he was looking at Dongsha Island. There was a Kee Lung-class Taiwanese destroyer anchored there. He shifted the scope to twenty-four power. Sure enough, he could make out the “bed-springs” radar antenna on the former USS Kidd-class DDG. It was slowly rotating.

“Conn, Sonar, hearing what sounds like gas turbines lighting off and anchor chain noises, bearing zero-one-three.” Chief John Vincent’s voice was calm and assured.

“Sonar, Captain. I hold a Kee Lung-class destroyer on that bearing. Sounds like he is getting underway.”

“That sounds right,” Vincent answered. It appeared the Taiwanese navy was not going to allow the Chinese to steam into their territorial waters, surface, and