Combat Control Central (CCC)
Nanchang (101)
Type 055 guided-missile destroyer
Strait of Taiwan in trail of the USS Jason Dunham
No matter whether he was standing or sitting, Captain Shen could not find a comfortable position. The rib he’d cracked tackling Colonel Sun was really bothering him and the unyielding pain was making it difficult to concentrate. The pain also was putting him in ill temper, which was only exacerbated by the anxiety he was feeling over breaking ranks with his counterpart and incarcerating the political commissar like a mutineer.
“Captain, here is your tea and the other item you requested,” the on-watch messenger said, handing him a saucer with a teacup and two painkiller tablets.
“Thank you, Seaman Peng,” Shen said, wincing as he shifted positions in his captain’s chair.
The young man bowed and stepped back.
Shen popped the two pills into his mouth and dry swallowed them because the tea was still too hot to drink.
“Attention in Combat Central—missile launch detected,” the combat coordinator announced. “Bearing one-three-two, range thirty-nine miles. Classification is probable supersonic anti-ship missile. The system is calculating the missile’s trajectory…Estimated target is either the USS Jason Dunham or our ship.”
Shen turned to look at the large display showing the missile’s current location and projected track over water on the bird’s-eye-view contact management display known as the tactical geoplot. The Nanchang’s Type 346 active electronically scanned array, aka Dragon’s Eye, was tracking the inbound missile flawlessly.
“It looks like the missile was launched from Huayu island,” Shen said, squinting at the screen.
“Yes, Captain,” the coordinator said, then added, “Second missile launch detected. Bearing one-three-two, range thirty-nine miles. Classification is probable supersonic anti-ship missile. Trajectory matches the first missile.”
Shen shifted his gaze from the tactical geoplot to the streaming video of the Jason Dunham, which the Nanchang was trailing at a range of one nautical mile off the Americans’ port stern quarter. He did not see any outward signs of activity on the U.S. destroyer, but he assumed the Americans were seeing the same thing with their SPY-1D radar and readying a response.
“Captain, we have an incoming bridge-to-bridge radio hail from the Jason Dunham,” the communications officer, Lieutenant Kwok said in a loud voice.
“Answer the hail, Lieutenant,” Shen said to his Commo, who was fluent in English and had handled all of the communications with the Dunham thus far.
Shen tightened his core muscles to brace himself as he prepared to rise from his chair. A flare of pain shot up into his armpit as he got to his feet. The messenger, who was always hovering within several meters, lunged forward to help him.
“I’m fine,” he said, stopping the young man with a wave of his hand.
“USS Jason Dunham, this is PLA Navy warship Nanchang, go ahead,” Lieutenant Kwok said into the handset as Shen walked up to stand beside the communications terminal.
“Nanchang, this is Jason Dunham actual,” the voice of the American captain said over the speaker. “We are tracking two inbound supersonic missiles. Based on velocity, trajectory, and altitude, we have classified them as Hsiung Feng III anti-ship missiles. It is my intention to shoot these missiles down, and I am informing you of this action in advance. The Jason Dunham will fire a two-missile salvo targeting the inbound threats. If the first salvo does not achieve kills, we will fire a second salvo. This is not offensive action against the Nanchang. I repeat, this is not offensive action against the Nanchang. Confirm you copy and understand.”
Lieutenant Kwok swiveled in his chair and translated the message, then waited for Shen’s response.
Shen took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding. It was smart of the American captain to notify the Nanchang of their intent to take defensive action against the missile launch. And it was also a gesture of respect. But why would the ROC Navy fire missiles at the American destroyer?
It wouldn’t, he realized. Which means that the inbound salvo is meant for us…
“Captain, how do you want to respond?” Kwok asked, feeling the pressure as the seconds ticked by.
“Tell the American captain that we appreciate his offer to shoot down the inbound missiles, but that the Nanchang is fully capable of defending itself. Tell him that we will shoot down the Hsiung Feng III missiles targeting our ship, and that his assistance in this matter is not desired or required,” Shen said.
“Yes, sir,” Kwok said, and began relaying the message in English.
“Combat coordinator, prepare a defensive salvo to down the inbound Taiwanese missile threat,” Shen said, which would be his next move as soon as Kwok delivered the message to the Americans.
The combat coordinator acknowledged the order and got to work prepping the salvo.
Shen turned back to the comms terminal expectantly, awaiting the American ship driver’s response. But instead of responding on the radio, the Jason Dunham took action.
“Attention in Combat Central—missile launch detected from the American warship. Contact 27 has fired a two-missile salvo,” the coordinator announced. “Classification is SM-6 surface-to-air missiles based on velocity and trajectory.”
Shen turned to look at the tactical geoplot and saw two missile tracks heading southeast away from the Jason Dunham on an intercept course with the inbound Hsiung Feng III missiles. He shook his head, but a smile curled his lips.
Well played, Captain Kreutz…
“Captain, two missile salvo is ready, targeting inbound missiles designated tracks 49 and 50,” the coordinator said.
“Very well, coordinator. Hold fire,” Shen said. “It appears the Americans are first to take action.”
“Captain, a word,” said the ship’s XO, Commander Tan, and motioned that Shen join him where he was standing a few meters away.
Shen nodded and walked over to caucus with his second-in-command.
“Permission to speak freely, Captain?” Tan asked.
“Always…”
“Why would the Americans shoot down missiles that are clearly fired by the ROC Navy targeting our vessel?” Tan whispered. “I fear it could be a trick.”
“A trick how?” Shen said, his curiosity piqued. He’d not expected this line of reasoning and was intrigued to see what Tan might have thought of that he’d missed.
“Maybe they are making us think they will destroy the missiles, but plan to miss on purpose. Then it will be too late for us to launch our own counter salvo.”
Shen considered the scenario, but quickly dismissed it. “The SM-6 has a seeker. It uses active-radar homing for the terminal kill phase of the engagement. What you describe is not possible. Also, they reacted very quickly. I estimate the intercept will happen at ten nautical miles from our position. If the SM-6s fail to do their job, we will still have time to launch.”
“But why would they defend us? And why has Taiwan fired? Operation Sea Serpent is still hours from commencement.”
Shen nodded. These were the questions and concerns he had been wrestling with himself. Then, possibly sparked by Tan’s skepticism, a germ of an explanation was beginning to form in Shen’s mind.
“It’s possible this is a false attack orchestrated by the Americans in conjunction with the ROC Navy. Maybe the plan is for the Jason Dunham to take credit for shooting down a pair of rogue missiles accidently fired, thereby saving the Nanchang. It would help validate the narrative of our ship as the aggressor and the Dunham as the de-escalating actor in the strait. This could be the American’s clever response to politicize our warning shot and turn it into an international incident.”
“So, what do we do?”
“Nothing,” Shen said with a pitiful smile.
Tan arched an eyebrow. “Nothing?”
“Yes, nothing. Thanks to Colonel Sun’s rash stupidity, we find ourselves in this difficult position. So, we accept the American captain’s generous offer to use two missiles from his inventory and waste ten million dollars of his countrymen’s tax dollars to protect us, while we save our complement of missiles to service our next set of orders.”
Tan pressed his lips together into a hard line, then nodded. “A wise choice, Captain.”
Shen gave a little snort. “We will see, XO…We will see.”
“Captain,” Lieutenant Kwok called from his console. “We have new orders. Flash traffic from Southern Theater Command.”
Shen walked over to Kwok’s terminal. When he looked at the message on the screen, a lump immediately formed in his throat.
Oh no…If I do this, it guarantees war.