Onboard HMS Sutherland, South China Sea
THE OPS ROOM onboard Sutherland was even more cramped, crowded and noisy than that of her more modern equivalent, Daring. What they had in common was an incredible concentration of high-spec electronics and technology that, despite this Royal Navy frigate’s near thirty years of age, gave her eyes and ears that reached far beyond the horizon.
Against one bulkhead there was a jumbled and confusing bank of screens and monitors, festooned with cables. On one screen streams of coordinates in red and on another a blue radar map showed the ship’s position in relation to nearby vessels. Royal Navy operators in dark blue working dress sat at their consoles, sleeves rolled up, silver-coloured headphones clamped over their ears, eyes straining in concentration.
‘So not a sign, then?’
‘Nothing, ma’am.’
One of the two figures conversing near the operators was Sutherland’s Principal Warfare Officer, while the other was Commander Stewart, the Captain. They were standing at a console known as the general ops plot, staring at a computerized screen showing the positions of all the shipping in that part of the South China Sea out to a twenty-four-mile radius. Sutherland, like any modern warship, was carrying a suite of electronic support measures used to analyse any transmissions in the area, both radar and radio comms. As a form of passive surveillance, it allowed the ship to gain a bearing on a contact without giving away its own position.
The ship’s intel cell had already received a full classified description of Ulysses Maiden, its predicted current position and direction of travel. The intel had been collated and sent by PJHQ at Northwood, a whole 10,600 kilometres away, with input from Defence Intelligence and Vauxhall Cross. Registered in the Pacific island nation of Palau, the suspect vessel was a 16,000-tonne carrier and, having been launched in 1997, she was nearly as old as Sutherland. Her tracking data showed that after departing the port of Macau she had headed out to sea on a north-easterly course, on a bearing of 55 degrees, in the direction of Taipei. But it was at just fifteen nautical miles out from the coast of the Chinese mainland that Ulysses Maiden had simply ‘gone dark’ by switching off her AIS tracker. Finding her without that, somewhere in the South China Sea, would be like hunting for the proverbial needle in a haystack.
Shortly before dawn, the Merlin, flying close to the limit of its range, had landed on Sutherland’s deck from Manila with its human cargo of Special Boat Service operatives. Buffeted by a headwind it took several seconds for the helicopter to settle on its wheels. The men from Poole were then given a hot meal, a bunk to grab some sleep on and a space to prep their weapons. At 0850 the Captain summoned the Assault Team Commander, Major Barrett, with her Principal Warfare Officer and the Merlin Flight Commander for a briefing in her cabin.
‘Come in, come in, take a seat,’ Commander Stewart greeted them briskly. ‘Hope your team managed to get their heads down for a few hours, Major?’
‘We did, thanks, ma’am.’
‘Good. So let’s just recap where we are. Our priority task right now is to locate, intercept and board Ulysses Maiden. We need to do this in international waters or it gets complicated.’ She allowed herself a grim smile. ‘And I, for one, do not intend to spend the rest of this deployment sitting in the Taipei harbourmaster’s office arguing with lawyers. My understanding – and please correct me if I’m wrong, Major – is that a high-value person, an illegally detained British national, is onboard that vessel and that your mission is to rescue them and bring them out alive. Is that correct?’
The SBS Major nodded, his face impassive. It still bore faint white lines along the temples from weeks of wearing wraparound sunglasses in the searing Omani deserts of Dhofar.
‘But we have a problem, don’t we?’ She looked around the table, from one to another as she spoke. ‘Because, as it turns out, Ulysses Maiden is a wrong ’un. They’ve gone and switched off their AIS tracker, so we know they don’t want to be found, by us or by anyone. So, Tom …’ She turned to her Principal Warfare Officer seated on her right. ‘Take us through the options, will you?’
Lieutenant Commander Tom Carnell, an engineer by training, looked older than his years. Still in his thirties, his hair had started to recede even before he had completed the forty-five-week PWO course at HMS Collingwood in Hampshire. His brain positively bulged with technical data, like the integrated use of Sutherland’s weapons systems and sensors, her anti-submarine warfare capabilities and all her communications and electronic warfare systems. But this was the first time he had been tasked to hunt down a rogue vessel plying the South China Sea.
‘Well, we’re running blind here,’ he began. ‘Ulysses Maiden went dark almost the moment she left Chinese territorial waters. So we have to start with the data we have, working from her last known position and course. Normally –’ He was looking directly at the Assault Team Commander as he spoke. ‘– we would work on the basis of the furthest-on circles. That allows us to predict with some accuracy where a vessel is likely to be, based on an assumed speed – ten to twelve knots in this case – after a certain period of time. But Ulysses Maiden’s last-known position was several hundred nautical miles north-west of here so that spreads the arc of her possible current location too far and wide to predict with certainty.’
Commander Stewart watched the SBS Major’s face for a reaction as this scenario was set out for his benefit. There was barely a flicker. ‘Right,’ she said crisply, glancing at her watch. ‘Let’s move on to courses of action.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ replied Carnell. ‘From where we are now, positioned north of Luzon, we should soon have a clear radar surface picture of every vessel heading towards the coast of Taiwan, from the smallest fishing boat to a Panamax tanker. Anything the size of Ulysses Maiden that’s got its AIS switched off will automatically become an immediate vessel of interest.’ He was now facing the ship’s helicopter flight commander as he spoke. ‘But I don’t propose we sit passively waiting for her to pop up on our radar. We need to take proactive action.’
He looked to the Captain, who nodded for him to continue. ‘So, I propose we deploy the Merlin on a schedule of spaced four-hour sorties on a hundred-mile radius, using her suite of electronic support measures to identify the target. I suspect we might have a better chance at night using infrared. Once the target is located it is then obviously the Captain’s call to deploy Major Barrett to execute the mission. Any questions?’