' The Longest Night ' & ' Crossing the Rubicon ': The Original Map Illustrated and Uncut Final Volume (Armageddon's Song) (44 page)

“How do we deal with the time differential, those submarines
and also their eyeballs on the ground in Panama?”

General Carmines solution for dealing with China’s agents who report all shipping movements in the Panama Canal was a simple one, and met with the president’s approval before moving on to the question of timing.

“As regards the time differential, well the lead convoy slows for the remainder to catch up well before the Suez Canal, which is a sensible move, tactically sound as it increases the number of escorts so that will not raise any suspicions.” The General tapped a finger on the screen, right above the Indian coast. “India and Pakistan are, as you know, about to begin hostilities with China. India has a sizeable fleet and it has good ASW capabilities, plus of course they have something we need desperately, diesel electric boats and they are already moving into the waters we want them in, prior to their countries openly declaring for NATO. In return for their active participation they of course get a greatly weakened bully of a neighbour for a time, at least that is the plan. If nothing else, Tibet may get its sovereignty back. India and Pakistan will for once be fighting someone other than each other, so that could be a benefit in the future.”

“And
Dumb Blondes
.” put in Joseph Levi, the Chief Scientific Advisor to the President. “Pakistan has a couple of those.” It was an old and tricky solution to the problem of otherwise quiet, diesel/electric submarines requiring air to run the noisy diesels periodically in order to recharge the batteries. By making their own supply whilst submerged, the submarine remained constantly silent instead of periodically noisy.  Instead of snorkelling near the surface, or even running the diesels on the surface, a ‘dumb blonde’ remained deep and extracted oxygen from concentrated hydrogen peroxide using steam turbines and a potassium permanganate catalyst. Britain had for a while led the way into the development of the system after WW2 with HMS
Excalibur
and HMS
Explorer,
which the crews soon nicknamed HMS
Excruciator
and HMS
Exploder
due to the high risk of fire and explosion.
The official name for such systems was the harmless sounding ‘Air Independent Propulsion’ however.

The General and Sally waited silently now as the President mulled over the situation in his head, looking for brickbats.

“What is your best estimate for the life expectancy of
‘Evensong’
?”

“Seven hundred and sixteen hours, twenty three minutes, Mr President.” answered Sally Peters, glancing at the wall clock. “The remaining time until
‘Vespers’
begins, but in the meantime we are currently doing to them what they did to us, only better.”

Once ‘Operation
Vespers’
began and the first parachute appeared then ‘Church’, their ace in the hole, would be redundant. China would know that they had been compromised.

“Zoom in on that first convoy again.” requested the president.

To him it looked exactly like a view from a photo reconnaissance feed, even down to a squad performing PT on the upper deck. There was not repetitive action at all; no wave was exactly like any other.

“And this is O’Connor’s work?” 

“Yes Mr President.”

“The young lady has talent.” The vivacious redhead had read the Peridenko file and had deduced what the late Russian KGB chief had in store for her at his dacha, had she accepted his amorous offer. It only added fire to her determination to get even for the way she had been manipulated over her seemingly
purely commercial work Peridenko and Alontov. The file had recently been updated with an account by an air stewardess of Peridenko’s death. The air stewardess had also been close to ending up in a shallow grave in the woods but for the arrival of Alontov.

“As her handiwork for Peridenko helped persuade China to enter a war against us, she was eager and willing to assist with the payback.”

“Okay, let us move on to
Vespers
as we are committed now, and it beats the hell out of reading their mail but not being able to act on any of it.”  

The satellite view moved again, centring over the Philippine Islands.

“Reconstitution by the European airborne forces has been a problem as they were scattered all over the Red Army’s rear areas in Germany. They took a real beating but they did an outstanding job there. However, units like Britain’s ‘2 Para’ and Belgium’s 3
rd
Lanciers-Parachutists were all but wiped out. An 85% casualty rate, in their case.”

The view zoomed in over the Southern Bisayas.

“Their 3 Para fought as infantry in Germany and were excluded from the airborne operation at the end, so they are itching to jump into action again, and if nothing else 1 and 2 Para will never let them live it down if they finish the war without jumping out of some perfectly serviceable aeroplanes even if there is no one waiting to take a shot at them when they land.”

A list of units that were taking part in the airborne element of
Vespers
now appeared upon the screen. Two entire brigades from the US 82
nd
Airborne Division would take the airfield and two bridges that connected the small island of Mactan with the main island, Cebu. It was a task best performed by a division, but the 82
nd
had been a significant contributor to SACEUR’s airborne gambit in Germany and the brigade that had taken part needed to rebuild significantly. The reserve brigade for
Vespers
was instead an Anglo/French unit comprising the French Foreign Legion’s 2 REP, Britain’s 3 Para and their supporting artillery and combat engineers.

The naval side of the operation was primarily the US Navy delivering the 3
rd
US Marine Expeditionary Force once the airborne units had seized the targets airport.

“The operation is a simple concept Mr President. Cut off the Chinese 3
rd
Army from resupply by taking its forward logistics base from the air, and then reinforcing by sea via the nearby port before the Chinese 6
th
Army comes and takes it back.”

“How long will the paratroopers have to wait before they are relieved?”

“Twenty four hours at the very outside, Mr President.”

Some plans don’t even survive until first contact.

CHAPTER Four

PNS Kar
achi, Cebu Strait, 2 miles south west of Mactan.

“
Conn, sonar
…stationary object, range zero six nine, bearing zero two two…classify as anchored sea mine.”

The ultra-low frequency sonar, similar to a Chinese
‘Mouse Roar’
, in the bow of Pakistan’s very quietest of her submarines, identified yet another mine in a comprehensive series of mine fields protecting the vital Chinese base in the southern end of the Philippines archipelago. The
Karachi
had begun the dangerous task of identifying minefields and safe channels a two full weeks before Pakistan declared war on the People’s Republic of China. Captain Muhammad Khan was proud of both his vessel and his crew, with just cause. The majority of his country’s navy joked about his vessel and would resign in order to avoid being assigned to its crew. They nicknamed the
Karachi
the
Bipatā
, ‘The Calamity’ owing to its air independent propulsion system. In truth there was no such thing as a ‘minor’ accident as even a slight leak in the system could result in a catastrophic fire whilst submerged, merely by the volatile fuel making contact with low grade steel or aluminium. The benefits though, were an ultra-quiet boat that did not need to snorkel or surface in order to recharge its batteries; they made their own air and discharged the exhaust into the ocean. Her hull was lined with triple layered rubber panels to complete the acoustic vanishing act once submerged.

“Both engines back… slow together.”

“I think that is about it Captain.” His First Lieutenant said as he marked the mines position on the chart.

It had been a long and perilous two weeks mapping the minefields in preparation for an upcoming operation of some kind. The PLAN had mined the area extensively to guard against incursions by both submarines and surface vessels. To the north of Mactan the minefields extended from the treacherous Calituban Reef, off the island of Bohol, across the Cebu Straits to encompass the single beach north of Cebu City
that was suitable for amphibious landings. The only break in the dense field of anchored sea mines and acoustic mines was a temptingly inviting channel that was in fact a trap. The only safe channel was a deceptive dog-leg affair at the southern end of the straits, which led first into a safe fishing zone before angling sharply northwest. From the town of Carcar to Talisay City the coast was a rock garden. The Americans had previous experience with the Talisay beaches from WW2 where they had come ashore to take back the island from the Japanese, but the waters off Talisay were now also heavily mined. This left only the inner safe channel from the safe fishing zone to the Mactan Channel, and
Karachi
had yet to map that as a possible route for assault ships. 

“Will we transmit the results now, Captain?”

It was possible that there were remote controlled, command activated, acoustic mines in the inner channel. A flick of a switch at the first sighting of an invasion force could turn that channel into a death trap.

“Yes, we will carefully retire and send our results to date, but before I can announce that we are done here I want to follow a freighter all the way in, and use the low frequency sonar to check for any surprises.” No other submarine in the Pakistani, or Indian Navy for that matter, could have achieved what his vessel and crew had done. “There is no way I am going to have our work here criticised as being incomplete, not after all the hard work everyone has put in to it.”

Several hours after transmission they returned to the end of the inner channel and sat on the bottom of the safe fishing zone, just waiting for something big enough to tailgate. A large Chinese fleet supply vessel eventually approached, and following the usual procedure that
Karachi
had listened to on many occasions in the last two weeks, it stopped outside the entrance to the inner channel and awaited a pilot to guide them safely through. What they could not of course see was the securely locked metal case that was handcuffed to the pilot’s wrist as he transferred from the pilot boat to the ship.

With the fleet auxiliary back underway the
Karachi
moved carefully and quietly beneath her wake with the mine-seeking sonar active.

Just inside the channel proper
, the deckhands on the auxiliary flinched as a large explosion a hundred yards off their stern caused the sea to heave up a huge geyser of water and debris, laced with rubber acoustic panels.

Talisay City, Cebu.

It was proving to be a busy week for Sergeant ‘Bat’ Ramos of the Philippine National Police. His was the responsibility for all incidents, criminal and accidental, along the coastline that lay within the bounds of Talisay City. First of all had been the appearance of bodies washing up on the beaches, all of them Pakistani Navy personnel. The local commander from the occupying PLA 6
th
Army had come along in person, and had even posed for a photograph beside the corpse of a Pakistani submarine captain.

The photograph would probably be used to help support the fiction that the garrison was in 100% control of the island. It was questionable as to whether the adoption of Mactan as a major military base would have occurred so quickly if China’s high command knew what the real situation on the two islands was, even before the arrival of special forces.

Bat would have expected that the Chinese would have been more concerned about the defences being compromised, but at least as far as sea defences were concerned they now acted like householders whose expensive burglar alarm had worked as advertised. They were smug rather than worried.

Since the second, successful, invasion of Cebu the police force had been disarmed, relieved of such equipment as radios, and put back to work as usual but with some supervision by Chinese Military Police. Bat did not have anyone looking over his shoulder two days later when he attended the second incident of the week on the beach, the PLAN navy were already there when the call arrived so an MP dogging his steps was
thought unnecessary. A small ferry, the
Henrietta
, had been beached, its hull damaged by an explosion of some kind, and it had settled in the shallows before the tide had gone out, leaving it looking rather forlorn.

PLAN marines stood guard and looked him over as he approached but assumed his MP watcher must be nearby. They did not stop him climbing aboard or even from approaching the bridge where raised voices could be heard.

The ferries Master was standing shamefaced beside a Chinese pilot who looked even more wretched. The Chinese naval officer in charge of harbour traffic was beside himself with fury, pointing frequently at a portable TV set beside the ships wheel and a metal case with a handcuff dangling free from its carrying handle.

Bat was pretty much ignored as he stood on the fringe of the little drama, listening carefully whilst managing to look harmless and ignorant of any foreign language skills.

China was rapidly expanding Mactan International Airport and the attached, former Philippines Air Force base. The work force, all forced labour, had initially come from those residing on Mactan. However, after the existing runway was repaired after the disastrous initial invasion attempt, it was widened and lengthened. Two further runways were added and all this expansion displaced many of the small islands inhabitants. Eventually there was no Filipinos left living on the island of Mactan as it became a high security zone. Workers and labourers were still required however; vast storage depots and warehouses do not build or maintain themselves. The two long road bridges across the causeway between Cebu and Mactan proved inadequate for the increased traffic and therefore ferries were required to ease the strain and tailbacks.
Henrietta
was one of a limited number of non-Chinese-military vessels that were permitted to move workers to and fro, but under guard of course. The ferries had some kind of device attached to the hull which kept them safe from a new type of sea mine, but the device only worked if connected to another device which the pilots carried with them in the metal cases. Bat would have loved to have just gone over and had a look at what the fuss was all about but that would have been most unwise. He stayed where he was, looking like a dumbass flat foot copper as he heard how the pilot had boarded the ferry and connected his device to the ferry’s electrical supply before giving in to his weakness for alcohol. With the pilot below in the captain’s cabin sharing a bottle of scotch, and the Chinese bridge sentry asleep on a chair on the wing, the helmsman had decided to watch his favourite TV show as he went about his duties. There was only one plug socket on the bridge though. A plug from the case dangled on a cable next to the electrical socket, a socket that was still occupied by the TV sets plug.

Bat quietly departed, stepping over the body of the bridge sentry and being careful not to get any of the blood and brain matter on his shoes. He was safely clear when he heard the sound of two gunshots coming from the ferry, and he listened carefully in case anyone had noticed him on the bridge and thought that four bodies were required instead of three to maintain security over the issue. No hue and cry followed and he made his way to a street food vendor near his police precinct house where he ate lunch and paid for it with a fifty pesos note folded around a piece of paper. Within six hours Colonel Joseph Villiarin, commander of the guerrilla forces on Cebu, had received the information and summoned Major Garfield Brooks. A micro second burst of energy transmitted the warning that told the members of the ‘Choir’ that the naval side of
Vespers
had a very serious flaw. 

140 miles west of the Monte Bello Islands, Western Australia.

It was very hushed in the control room, not quite so silent that a pin could be heard falling, it was however rather close.

The sonar operators sat the most quietly of all, and those with eyes open were not actually looking at anything, their heads were in the same place as those with their eyes shut.

USS
Twin Towers
edged ahead, barely making headway, at a depth of 500 feet.

“There he is again.” muttered Lt Hannigan, the head of the sonar shop and a natural ‘ear’. Somewhere ahead of them was a very quiet diesel electric boat, probably an Improved Kilo, the
Zǒng Shènglì
, and almost certainly the vessel that had almost put a torpedo into their hunting partner, HMS
Hood.
 

For the past two weeks the hunter killers had done a roaring trade in the waters off the coast of Western Australia, racking up tonnage of both merchant vessels and warships, although the majority were carrying fuel and supplies to the PLA 3
rd
Army in New South Wales.

COMSUBPAC, the headquarters of the US submarine fleet in the Pacific, had noted a distinct absence in enemy submarine traffic in the waters between Cebu and Australia. Many of the vessels that had carried out the chemical attacks were now operating out of Singapore, waiting for the reinforcing convoys from Europe to enter the Indian Ocean. Not all had left Australian waters though, and those vessels didn’t run on plankton either, there had to be a support vessels somewhere.

USS
Twin Towers
and HMS
Hood
had been diverted from interdicting the sea lanes to that of hunting down the Chinese submarines supply vessel.

The stalk lasted all the way to a small group of islands off the coast of Western Australia.

“Raise ECM”

It was a stormy night up top, a typhoon was blowing and making the helmsmen work hard and earn their rations. Rain was deluging the island and the runoff was having an effect upon buoyancy. Fresh water does not allow for the same level of buoyancy as salt water, and there was something of a tidal race created by the cluster of small islands and islets of the Montebello group to be contended with also. 

The
Twin Towers
captain let his helmsmen get the measure of the seas before proceeding. His helmsmen were both reservists, one was a skipper in his own right although he described himself as a delivery driver of pretty things, taking billionaires yachts from the builders yards to the customers, wherever they may be on the planet. The other was a bass guitarist with a rock and roll band, internationally famous but