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

all my economics classes, Papa Tom, but something tells me a discovery like this could have a negative impact besides just all the greedy shenanigans it would—and already has—set loose.”

Tom Donnegan took a long sip of his Hawaiian mai tai—a variation of the cocktail known locally as mia tia—without tasting it. He frowned as he gazed out at the breathtaking view, not seeing it, thinking.

“If the world’s markets were to get wind of this, and if there was a reasonable chance somebody has the technology to go way down there and get the stuff...Lord help us. That alone is more than enough to collapse the entire world economy.”

Ψ

Jon Ward had another stop to make while he was on Oahu. This one was not going to involve pupus or mai tais. He needed to get over to Camp Smith, the headquarters for the US Indo-Pacific Command. There, he would meet with Admiral Rufus Clark, who ran that command.

Although he could easily see Admiral Clark’s office building from Tom Donnegan’s lanai, it was across a deep canyon. Ward had to retrace his route down from Aiea Heights and then climb back up Halawa Heights to Camp Smith, all while fighting traffic and the ill-handling subcompact rental car.

Admiral Clark met Jon Ward at the entrance to the headquarters building and immediately ushered him down to the SCIF, which was buried in the building’s basement, safely away from prying eyes.

Ward well knew that Admiral Clark and his staff were extremely busy, frantically moving the fleet to counter the Chinese threat against Taiwan while also juggling all the other crises in an area of responsibility that covered half of the globe. Ward eschewed the normal pleasantries and got right down to business.

“Admiral, I asked to meet with you to discuss the current Chinese submarine deployment,” he began, “and to brief you about a capability that you may not have been read in on.” Ward went on to quickly explain how his Office of Naval Intelligence and a certain three-letter government agency had cooperated in developing and deploying a very sophisticated undersea tracking system. And how it had come about under the cover of being a seismic warning system for the Taiwanese Office of Earthquake Preparedness. They had the system operational and had recently successfully tested it. This had been accomplished without the Taiwanese and very few Americans being aware of its existence or its many capabilities.

Clark shook his head. “Jon, you sure this thing actually works? Sounds awful Buck Rogers sci-fi to me.”

“It’s what we used to detect and track the Boise and then warn her of that noisy screw problem she had. A real-world test, if you will. If we can detect and track one of our own boats that far away, I’m pretty confident that we can track the Chinese right there on top of the system.”

Clark again shook his head and frowned. The frustration was heavy in his voice. “That’s all fine and dandy, but as you know, the president has our hands firmly bound with the rules of engagement he required. Basically, we can’t get within four hundred miles of Taiwan and we can’t shoot at anything or anybody unless we have already been shot at. He’s afraid we’re going to get all trigger-happy and start World War III unless we are firmly hog-tied. And he’s pretty sure such a thing might affect his chances for re-election or prevent him from getting the Nobel Peace Prize or something.”

Ward scratched his chin but grinned. “I figured that might be the case. But I think I have the solution. We won’t violate the president’s orders and we won’t shoot at anybody. The key here is we need to chase the Chinese subs back into their ports and blow the doors off this phony embargo. And the people who can do that are the Taiwanese. We simply vector them to the Chinese subs, based on the seismic warning system data we’re collecting, and give them a way to ring the subs’ chimes without sinking them.”

“You got a way to do that? Cause if you do, I’m damned impressed.”

“Actually, I think I do,” Ward answered. “We give them the positions of the PLAN submarines without telling them where the information came from. Then we provide them with a planeload of our new very lightweight torpedoes. Something called a CRAW, a Compact Rapid Attack Weapon. Those babies are programmed to go after a boat’s screw when we use them for ASW. They’re not big enough to really do any serious or deadly damage to anybody’s modern boats, but they will take out a screw. We just happen to have several pallets of them over at the torpedo facility at West Loch. If we get moving, we can have them loaded and ready to use by Taiwanese P-3s by tomorrow morning.”

Admiral Clark gave Ward a long, hard look.

“Damn, Jon. Buck Rogers ain’t got nothing on you!”

Ψ

Jim Ward looked up and then smiled broadly as his father walked into his room unannounced. The young SEAL had been doing some calisthenics, trying to ease his sore body back into some level of fitness. The traffic he had been perusing as he passed it on to the ONI in the Pentagon suggested he might soon need to be agile, mobile, and hostile. His Taiwanese bodyguards had set up some gym equipment in the suite, but they still were not allowing him to roam around Taipei alone. That made it impossible for him to get back on his running regimen. Not that he was sure his body was up to it yet, anyway.

The younger Ward grabbed a towel and wiped some of the sweat from his hands and arms before grabbing his father in a bear hug.

“Dad, great to see you again, but I assumed you were back in DC...”

Jon Ward returned the hug, vigorously enough to shut off any questions.

“Great to see you, too, Jim-boy!” He pulled back and gave his son a look. “Hey, looks like