Shattered Trident - Страница 5

Hieu remarked, “And those approaches are completely open water. A submarine captain can pick his course. He will have to go into shallow water,” he mused, “but not dangerously so.”

“Bottom mines?” Duan asked.

“Of course,” Hieu answered. “Russian MDM-6s. Banh Mi is in port at Nha Trang. I know Captain Thu well, and he’s more than capable of executing this mission. We’ll get her crew loading while our specialists figure out the best pattern. She can be under way tomorrow morning.”

Ty had been working with the chart. “It’s six hundred and seventy kilometers from Nha Trang to Yalong Bay. Transiting at fourteen knots, it will take her twenty-six hours to reach the target. I know Thu as well. He’ll shave some time off that figure.”

Hieu nodded. “Good. That gives her two days to scout the harbor, one to lay the mines, and a day to clear the area.”

Komamura felt a little out of his element. These professionals were planning an attack on another country while he watched and listened. But he had a question. “Isn’t Yalong Bay near Yulin, a commercial port? Won’t other ships also set off the mines?”

Ty answered. “The MDM-6 is triggered by a combination of a ship’s pressure wave, and its acoustic and magnetic signatures. We can adjust the mine to watch for a combination of all three—a combination unique to Liaoning. A single mine won’t sink her, unless they’re very unlucky, but detonating twenty meters away from her bottom?” Ty shrugged, but he was smiling.

“They’ll have to move her from Yalong Bay back to the yard at Dalian, possibly under tow, then put her in dry dock. She will be out of action for months, and by then the seasons will have changed. They need over a week of good weather to tow the platform to the Spratlys and anchor it.”

Phai grinned. “I like it. ‘The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting,’” he quoted.

“A Chinese proverb?” Komamura asked.

“The great master Sun Tzu himself,” the political chief explained. “There is still a risk of lives being lost, but it is much reduced compared to an armed occupation, or a battle at sea.”

“Absolutely,” Komamura agreed firmly. Then he asked, “Has any of this intelligence been shared with the Philippine government?”

Phai sighed. “There has been some discussion at very high levels, but even forewarned, the full weight of the Philippine military could not stop the Chinese operation. And telling them greatly increases the risk to our source.”

Komamura asked, “Should Liaoning successfully sail, would you reconsider?”

“I understand your concern, Professor,” Hieu answered solemnly. “Vietnam will not allow Philippine soldiers and civilians to suffer a Chinese attack without warning. As Commander Ty said, it will take the Chinese almost a week to tow their platform to Thi Tu Island. That’s more than enough time for the Filipinos to evacuate the island—or reinforce it, if they are insane enough to defend it.”

“You wouldn’t mind them leaving, though, so you could exercise Vietnam’s claim to the island,” Komamura prompted.

“Absent a Chinese task force, perhaps,” Hieu answered. “We will press our claim in the proper forum. But if the Chinese occupy the islands and the adjoining seas, everybody loses.”

Phai turned to Hieu. Using a slightly more formal tone, he said, “The Political Directorate approves of this plan. I will notify the Defense Council of this operation, recommending it as the only possible way of stopping the Chinese invasion without challenging their armed forces directly and risking open war. I’m sure they will approve it.”

Then turning back to Komamura, he added, “And we owe you our thanks, Professor. Our intention was to ask for Japan’s help in the hopes that they would find a way to assist us. It appears they have already sent us their best weapon.”

“I’m sure I thought of nothing original,” the professor insisted. “If you can drive me to the Japanese embassy, I will contact Admiral Kubo on a secure line.”

“Of course,” Hieu answered. “I know you have a flight back to Japan later today, but would you consider extending your visit? I will fly down to Nha Trang this afternoon and visit Banh Mi and her captain. Would you like to accompany me?”

Komamura smiled broadly. “I would like that very much.”

2. MISSION COMPLETED

19 August 2016

August 1st Building, Ministry of National Defense Compound

Beijing, People’s Republic of China

Admiral Wei Zi’en sat dispassionately as his staff officer briefed the Central Military Commission on the vengeance strike against Vietnam. Beneath the stoic exterior, Wei was a troubled man. The Trident operation hadn’t even formally begun and already they had experienced a serious setback. It wasn’t fatal, but doubt in the People’s Liberation Army Navy’s ability to successfully execute the operation had risen immediately.

“Contact with the Vietnamese merchant Vinaship Sea was made yesterday at 0826 local time, here.” Senior Captain Deng highlighted the area on the South China Sea chart with his laser pointer. “In compliance with his orders, the commanding officer of submarine hull 407 conducted a complete search of the area and waited until Vinaship Sea was isolated from any nearby traffic. He closed to a range of six kilometers, visually confirmed the target’s identity, and fired two Yu-6 torpedoes at 1347. The weapons hit, causing a catastrophic secondary explosion that sank the merchant very quickly and with no survivors.”

“You are certain of this?” asked General Wen Feng, the minister of national defense.

“Absolutely, sir. The South Korean container vessel Hanjin Malta reported seeing a large plume of smoke on the horizon over the international distress channel at 1349. They approached the source of the smoke, and issued a general distress call at 1447 when they came upon the wreckage. They found no survivors.”

General Su Yide, chief of the general staff department, added, “The large secondary explosion confirms the merchant ship was carrying military arms for their outpost on Nanzai Island. This proves beyond any doubt that the Vietnamese are aware of our upcoming operation.”

Wei bristled at Su’s remark. “General, the Vietnamese showed their hand when they mined the entrance to Yalong Bay. And while the result of their audacious attack is inconvenient, it does not significantly affect our overall plan.”

“My point, Admiral,” sneered Su, “has nothing to do with your precious aircraft carrier, but rather that our plan was heavily predicated on the element of surprise. I think you would agree that we have lost that!”

President Chen Dao tapped the table loudly with his fingers. “Gentlemen, the question is how do we compensate for these events, not whether we carry out our plan. The operation must continue. The circumstances that have compelled us down this path have not improved. On the contrary, they have only gotten worse.”

The president’s reference to the growing economic crisis ended the argument abruptly. China’s well-being was threatened. Scoring political points wouldn’t matter if the economy came crumbling down around their ears.

Despite the economic turbulence in Europe and the United States, the Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party had successfully managed a gradual slowdown of the economy—at least that was what the Chinese government claimed officially. In reality, the dip was far lower than desired. China had the resources, but like a juggler with an unexpected ball tossed into the mix, its rhythm was disrupted. It wouldn’t take much of a jolt before balls started dropping. That jolt was oil.

Nearly two-thirds of China’s annual petroleum demand came from outside the country, with half of it coming from the Persian Gulf, primarily Saudi Arabia and Iran. When scandal and the Arab Spring hit the Persian Gulf, the flow of oil began to wane.

The release of the data on Iran’s failed nuclear program happened just before Iran’s 2013 presidential elections. It triggered demonstrations and protests that were larger and more frequent than in 2009, plunging the country into chaos. By the end of 2015, strikes and outright sabotage began cutting deeply into Iran’s exports.

On the other side of the gulf, Saudi Arabia was embroiled in demonstrations demanding democratic elections. Clerics issued fatwas calling for work stoppages. Maintenance “accidents” happened more frequently. And the second largest oil producer in the world began to waver.

By the spring of 2016, the shortfall had become severe enough that China was pulling from her strategic oil reserves to meet the economy’s daily needs. At the projected rate, the shortfall would deplete China’s meager strategic reserve within a year. After that, the economy would feel the reduced flow of oil directly. None of the economic estimates presented to the CCP painted a rosy picture; some were downright dire.

The leaders in Beijing quickly eliminated Africa and Latin America as alternatives. Africa was too unstable, and Latin America just didn’t have the capacity. Russia wasn’t even briefly considered, due to security concerns. Then China’s leadership looked southward toward the huge oil and gas reserves right in their own neighborhood, in the Nansha Islands.

The Nansha Islands, or the Spratly Islands as they were known to most of the world, were scattered over hundreds of thousands of square kilometers of the South China Sea. Although made up of over a hundred small islands, atolls, and reefs, they couldn’t come up with five square kilometers of dry land between them. Beneath the waters surrounding them lay potential oil and gas reserves rivaling that of Kuwait, OPEC’s third-largest oil producer.