The Lian returned to Sanya a few minutes before three in the afternoon. Dr. Meng Park was one of the first to disembark. After eight days at sea, she was more than ready for shore leave.
Captain Zhou Jun waited on the pier adjacent to the gangway that connected Lian to the dock. He watched Park as she walked down the ramp, towing a wheeled suitcase and carrying her briefcase. She had traded her bulky coveralls for a pair of skintight blue jeans and a short sleeved silk blouse that flattered her breasts.
“Welcome back, Dr. Meng,” Zhou said.
“Thank you, Captain.”
“I need an immediate debriefing before you return to your hotel. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Good, my vehicle’s close by.”
“Okay.”
Captain Zhou reached forward and grabbed the handle of her suitcase. “Let me get that.”
“Thank you.”
The businesslike greetings were a charade for the benefit of the dockworkers and Lian’s crew that milled about the pier and along the decks of the ship. During the ten minute drive to Zhou’s apartment, Meng would indeed provide a summary rundown on the installation of the Viper network. But that was a pretext for the real purpose of their encounter.
Both were ravenous. They would spend the rest of the afternoon in bed before finally taking a break. Zhou had reservations at a nightclub in downtown Sanya.
* * * *
Commander Bowman summoned Yuri Kirov and Jeff Chang to the Colorado’s wardroom. Yuri and Jeff were seated at the mess table when Bowman and Lieutenant Commander Andrews entered the compartment. It was 3:07 P.M., local time.
SEAL team leader Andrews took a chair next to Chang. After Bowman filled his mug with fresh coffee, he claimed his chair at the head of the table. Glancing toward Yuri and Jeff, Bowman said, “Thanks for joining us.” He took a taste. “We’re currently about sixty nautical miles out, still in deep water. But it’s going to get shallow soon so we’ll be reducing our speed accordingly.” Colorado’s CO glanced at his wristwatch. “The current plan is to launch the SDV at zero one hundred hours this coming morning.”
“How close to shore will we be?” Yuri asked.
“Six miles.”
“Water depth?”
“Around two hundred thirty feet.”
Yuri did the math—seventy meters. “I assume we’ll be near the surface when the submersible is launched, otherwise we might need a decompression stop.”
“Correct. The launch sequence has been set up to avoid the need for decompression.”
“Good,” Yuri said. “One less issue to worry about.”
Andrews commented next. “It’ll be slack tide so the trip in should take no more than an hour.”
“Any change regarding surf conditions at the beach?”
“No. One half meter high waves.”
“Okay.”
After another taste of coffee, Commander Bowman rejoined the conversation, addressing Yuri. “When you launched the mini from the boat you were on, how far offshore of Yulin were you?”
“About twenty kilometers.”
“So, just outside of China’s territorial waters.”
“That’s right. Moscow ordered the Novosibirsk’s captain to keep the boat out of Chinese waters.”
“How close to the base were you when you and your team locked out of the mini?”
“It was close-in, about half a kilometer from the island.” Yuri wondered where this line of questioning was going. He decided to ask. “What’s the concern, Commander?”
“We just received an update from COMSUBPAC. Four autonomous surface drones were observed exercising in the Shendao harbor area yesterday afternoon.”
“New ones, in addition to those at Yulin?”
“Yes.”
Yuri muttered a Russian expletive.
“I’m worried about the sea drones,” Bowman said. “If the PLAN gets just the slightest whiff that we’re in their backyard, the mini won’t stand a chance against those things.”
Open to the sea with just a thin sheet of aluminum to protect the occupants, a single depth charge detonated a hundred yards from the Shallow Water Combat Submersible would scramble brains and macerate guts.
“Are they patrolling near our route to the beach?” Jeff Chang asked.
“No. As of yesterday, all drone activity was confined to waters within the harbor’s breakwaters. But that could change.”
Chang scowled while taking in the news. “Any idea what caused them to supplement harbor coverage at Shendao?”
“COMSUBPAC did not elaborate.”
“I think I have an idea what might be going on.” All eyes turned Yuri’s way. “It’s the carriers. They might be planning to move them from the Yulin Naval Base to Shendao. The drones will be in place for supplemental security.”
“Move them how?” Chang asked. “Aren’t they dead in the water?”
“Towing. It’s a short trip, just a dozen kilometers or so. Piece of cake with good weather.” Yuri picked up the cake idiom from Laura. He glanced at Bowman. “Any reports regarding the propulsion systems on the Shandong and the Liaoning.”
“We’ve received no recent reports about the carriers.”
“My guess,” Yuri said, “and that’s all it is at this time…is that the PLAN has given up trying to restore ship power for both carriers at the Yulin base. The EMP damage to the utilities systems on the piers and shoreside facilities was catastrophic. However, the pier and upland system at Shendao were not damaged. In fact, the pier was specifically designed to service aircraft carriers.”
“Hmmm,” Bowman mumbled. “That does make sense.”
“If they move the carriers,” Chang said facing Bowman, “they might pass right over the Colorado.”
“We’ll be listening. If that happens, we’ll head back into deep water until they’re out of the way.”
“That makes sense.” The CIA officer turned toward Andrews, “What’s the latest intel about our target area?”
“Nothing new has been directed our way about S5. When we arrive at the launch site, we’ll get another update.”
“Okay, thanks.”
After the briefing broke up, Yuri returned to the compact quarters he shared with Chang. As Jeff showered, Yuri stretched out on his bunk. Lieutenant Commander Andrews suggested that they both try to rest before the mission started.
Yuri stared upward at the bottom of Jeff’s bunk. Yuri’s comfort level with Chang and the Ghost Riders increased each day he spent aboard the Colorado. He was also impressed with Commander Bowman and his crew.
So far, so good.
Yuri hoped for a smooth mission―a quick in and out without detection.
Maybe we can really pull this thing off. That was Yuri’s last conscious thought before drifting off.
After ninety minutes, the familiar nightmare abruptly returned Yuri to reality.
This mission is all wrong!
* * * *
While the USS Colorado crept toward Hainan Island, the Russian attack submarine Novosibirsk approached the Luzon Strait at twenty knots. The waterway extended from Taiwan’s southern coast to the north shore of Luzon Island. Novosibirsk’s planned route across the passage was about eighty nautical miles south of the path Colorado had navigated the day before.
Captain Petrovich caucused with his key officers in the wardroom. A bulkhead mounted HD wide-screen monitor at the aft end of the room displayed the digital image of a navigation chart of another sea passage—the Novosibirsk’s final destination.
“Gentlemen,” Petrovich said, “this is the area where I intend to begin our seeding operations.” He clicked on a handheld laser pointer, highlighting the waters near the island city-state of Singapore and the the eastern end of the Strait of Malacca. Sandwiched between the Malay Peninsula and the Indonesian island of Sumatra, the Strait of Malacca was the world’s most frequently traveled shipping channel. Nearly a hundred thousand commercial vessels navigated the passageway each year.
“It’s very shallow in that area, Captain,” the navigation officer noted. “How close in do you plan to bring the boat?”
“We’ll stay within our normal operating parameters plus all seeding ops will occur at night.”
The Strait of Malacca and the connecting Singapore Strait were both shallow. With a hull diameter of almost fifty feet, the Novosibirsk needed to take care not to run aground while submerged. And to avoid visual detection of the hull by aircraft and watercraft, night operations were mandatory.
“Magnetic fuses still the plan?” asked weapons.
“Correct. All of the targets are merchantmen with steel hulls. No concerns over degaussing with them.” Degaussing was a procedure to reduce the magnetic field of a ship, typically used for submarines and surface warships.
Petrovich keyed the pointer again. “I want to place the first units in the main channel in this area. After seeding that channel we’ll proceed . . .”
The installation procedure for each grouping of the mines was finalized and the briefing ended.
The goal of Operation Vortex was to create mass confusion and terror within the world’s shipping community. The indiscriminate mining of one of the globe’s most vital marine transportation corridors was designed to paralyze China’s already delicate economy. Until the mine threat was eliminated, oil laden tankers from the Middle East and gigantic container ships loaded with Chinese goods bound for European markets would avoid the route that linked the Indian and Pacific oceans.
Conceived by the Kremlin, Vortex was designed to deter China from seeking revenge for the nuclear detonation in Qingdao and the e-bomb attack on the Yulin Naval Base. Simply put, Moscow’s message to Beijing was: Don’t think of attacking Russia. We can repeat the mining operation anytime we choose.
Vortex was a bold plan, one that appeared bulletproof to the Kremlin and Russia’s military elite. To achieve success, however, it required Russia’s most modern and stealth attack submarine to cross the South China Sea unnoticed.
A PLAN bottom mounted hydrophone in the Luzon Strait detected the faint acoustic signature of the Novosibirsk’s propeller as it cruised into the South China Sea. It took just a minute to relay the alert via encrypted subsea and satellite comms to S5 headquarters on Hainan Island.