Shattered Trident - Страница 84

Komamura leaned forward and laid the hard copy he’d gotten from Miyazaki in front of Orihara. “By my estimates, the improved warhead for the Ryusei has a yield of about fifteen kilotons. It’s a plutonium implosion design, correct?”

He was watching for Orihara’s reaction, and the admiral seemed genuinely surprised by the question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. The improved warhead—”

“Cannot achieve the described level of destruction using any known conventional explosive,” Komamura interrupted. Now that he’d said it out loud, he felt unexpected anger, and fought to control it. “Damage over such a large area can only be achieved by a nuclear weapon.”

Orihara did not answer immediately, but instead picked up the phone and punched a number. After a short pause, he said, “Please ask Minister Hisagi to come to my office immediately.”

As he hung up, Komamura asked, “How did you get permission from the Diet? I was surprised that they approved the ballistic missile, even with a conventional warhead, but this? Wait. Do they even know?”

“The prime minister, the defense minister, and the head of the Japanese Atomic Energy Agency know,” the admiral answered. “As you can imagine, security is extremely tight.”

“Is ‘extremely tight’ good enough?” Komamura asked, his voice rising. He paused for a moment, then spoke more softly. “If China learns of a nuclear weapons program in Japan, it almost guarantees instant devastation.”

There was a knock on the door, and Orihara answered, “Come in.” Hisagi stepped inside quickly, closing the door again.

The admiral announced, “Dr. Komamura has deduced the nature of the Ryusei’s ‘improved’ warhead.”

Hisagi’s face registered surprise, then it went blank for a moment before he carefully responded. “That is unfortunate, Doctor. You were not supposed to be briefed into the project.”

“I’m not surprised. You certainly knew what my reaction would be. I’m repelled by the very idea.” Looking at the two, he asked harshly, “Are either of you truly Japanese?”

Both reacted to the insult as if they’d been slapped. The use of nuclear weapons in World War II had scarred Japan’s national psyche. You didn’t have to have family near Hiroshima or Nagasaki, or have met someone suffering from radiation-induced illness. It was enough to have been born and raised in Japan.

Orihara answered carefully, “Your opinion is respected, Doctor, even now, but this was a matter of national and alliance policy. You were never part of the decision process.”

Suddenly he felt helpless. He’d caught Orihara’s slight—“even now”—and the admiral had referred to him as an academic, instead of the “sensei” everyone else used. His message was clear. I don’t care who you are.

“I cannot imagine a Japan that possesses nuclear weapons. What about the other alliance members? Do they know?”

Hisagi answered, “They all know. Like the ballistic missiles, the weapons will be jointly owned, and based in all of the alliance countries.”

“Why not just procure some Indian ballistic missiles, then?”

“India has reservations and refused. The other nations agreed that it would be better if we developed our own nuclear technology. These will be alliance weapons, not just Japanese. We’ve had the technical capability; we’ve just chosen not to develop them.

“It will proceed very quickly. The MOX fuel used in our nuclear reactors is seven percent weapons-grade plutonium. We already have several labs at work chemically separating the element, and we only need a few kilograms for a small implosion warhead. The Indians have agreed to provide assistance, as well.”

Komamura remembered the officer working with Kasugi. “And you’re already picking out targets. It’s unbelievable.”

“We have no intention of using them,” Hisagi protested, “but think, sensei. Not a single ballistic missile has fallen on Indian soil. The reason is obvious, as is the solution. Deterrence works, and these will be our shield against future attacks.”

“Unless the Chinese decide that seven more nations with nuclear weapons is too many,” Komamura argued. “We are frighteningly vulnerable now, with a secret worse than the existence of the alliance initially was. Remember our fears then of being discovered? If China learns of the program, she’ll immediately strike every location she can think of that might be involved in their development.”

Komamura’s own words frightened him. “And how will the alliance make them public?” he continued. “A secret deterrent is useless. How many weapons do we need to have a credible deterrent against an established nuclear superpower?”

He paused, then shook his head. “No, China will never let us get that far. Even if they don’t discover the program before it becomes operational, the moment the alliance announces it has nuclear weapons, the Chinese will have to strike!”

Hisagi and Orihara both looked grim. The minister replied respectfully, but firmly. “Your arguments, and more, were debated at length, and the decision was made by our national leaders, as is their duty.

“This is at least in part because of your work, sensei. As long as we were willing to let America guarantee our security, Japan could limit her armed forces. If we are to stand by ourselves now, as part of a military alliance, then we should build whatever we need for a proper defense.”

“Please, let me speak to the prime minister,” Komamura pleaded.

“What will you do, question his heritage as well?” Orihara responded harshly. “Put your skills to work and show us a way to break the Chinese economy. If we can do that quickly enough, then all of this is moot. One more opinion will not change anything. Events have moved forward. There is no looking back.”

13 September 2016

1300 Local Time

By Water

Halifax, Nova Scotia

He titled the piece “Shattered Trident.” Christine’s source, whom he’d dubbed “Deep Voice,” didn’t send something every day, but everything he sent was a blockbuster. The latest one had arrived less than three hours ago, and Christine was waiting for him to proof and polish the piece before giving it to her.

There. He always forced himself to read completely through each posting one final time before sending it. With the last few corrections made, he hit the “Send” link and checked his watch.

She’d use the text he wrote almost verbatim, now that she’d given him a few journalism tutorials, but she’d still have to assemble the “visuals.” That probably meant the 4:00 P.M. feed. He wouldn’t post the article until then. Their arrangement was simple. CNN was the source, so CNN got the scoop.

All the news channels, and probably many of the intelligence services, now watched his blog closely. He wasn’t the only source of information about the war, but he had broken enough stories now so that he was a known authority—an authority with excellent sources.

This article would only reinforce his blog’s status. Laird’s source had given them The Plan: a complete copy of the Chinese operations order for something called “Trident.” While the military details were fascinating, the underlying purpose and goal were frightening. It was bad enough that China had intended to seize most of the disputed territory in the South China Sea by force, but beyond that, those in the East China Sea, and then the Yellow Sea. China’s leaders had big ambitions.

What if the plan had succeeded? He tried to imagine the entire western Pacific under Communist Chinese hegemony. This posting would change the world’s attitude about China. It could have as much effect on China’s fortunes as a traditional bombing campaign.

He’d better proofread it again.

As Mac read, he imagined what the Chinese spokesman would say. It was certain that they’d be barraged with questions, just as the Littoral Alliance spokesman had been besieged after his last major release. A detailed analysis of China’s oil infrastructure and its impact on the economy had spiked Littoral Alliance claims of imminent victory, changing the public debate almost overnight. He imagined that was Deep Voice’s real goal, although Mac couldn’t see that the pronouncements by the two warring factions had improved. Each side just used what it wanted and ignored any inconvenient facts.

13 September 2016

1430 Local Time

Pearl Harbor-Hickam Joint Base

Hawaii

Commander Garcia, the sub base XO, met Patterson’s plane at Hickam with a private car. During the five-minute ride to the sub base, he briefed her on the security. “With the war, we were already at a very high level. The special weapons requirements are on top of that, of course, but they’re not attracting the kind of attention they would normally.”

Even as he described them, the car stopped at the gate to the part of Pearl Harbor that housed the sub base. A marine sentry examined all their identification thoroughly while a dog handler walked around the car. They even checked the trunk and searched her overnight bag.

The techs had decided to do the work at the base’s torpedo shop. While moving twelve nuclear warheads from inactive storage was not a simple process, moving twelve Mark 48 torpedoes was even harder, and there simply wasn’t room at the special weapons shop for twelve torpedoes, each nearly twenty feet long and weighing almost two tons.

There was more security at the torpedo shop itself, the building literally surrounded with marines, weapons at the ready. And was that a machine-gun position?