Dragon Sim-13 (11 page)

It took Riley and the engineers less than two hours to come up with the actual point of attack on the pipeline. Using 1:64,000 scale maps of the pipeline area, and satellite imagery sent from Fort Meade, Riley had sat down with Hoffman and Smith and quickly traced the pipeline, looking over the whole length for possible target locations.

It didn't take them long to come up with the most promising target. They'd been instructed to put the pipeline out of operation for a minimum of a week; therefore, blowing a section would be insufficient. According to the intelligence, the Chinese maintained an adequate repair capability. Taking down a hundred-foot section would only put the pipe out of operation for forty-eight hours. Riley knew that something more vital to the pipe's operation had to be attacked. He asked Hoffman and Smith to search for a node critical to the operation of the pipe.

They had briefly considered destroying a pump station, but Riley had discarded that idea. Pump stations were staggered along the entire length to help maintain and regulate the flow of oil. Although pump stations were critical to the successful functioning of the pipe, intelligence indicated that they were also manned by a platoon-sized reaction force. The last thing Team 3 wanted to do, in Riley's opinion, was get into a battle. They wanted to do their job and get out without making any contact.

It was Hoffman who found the answer. The pipe crossed the Sungari River, more than nine hundred kilometers from the pipe's terminus on the Yellow Sea at the port of Qinhuangdao. The imagery blowup disclosed that the pipe was suspended by cables from pylons anchored on either shore. There were six cables, each two and a half inches in diameter. Cutting them would be a relatively simple operation for the team. Severing all six cables simultaneously would release the support for the suspended section of pipe, which, weighed down by the oil inside, would crash into the river. To repair the crossing would require extensive engineering work, including bringing a barge upriver. Hoffman conservatively estimated a down time of three weeks. That definitely met the requirements for the mission.

The tricky part, Riley mused as he looked at the satellite blowup of the river crossing, was getting into the compound that enclosed the pylon. Whoever had designed security for the pipe had also known that this river crossing was a critical point that needed extra attention. The pylons on either shore were surrounded by a fence topped with barb wire. The fence enclosed a rectangular area approximately 150 meters by 250 meters.

Hoffman, using a stereoscope on the satellite imagery, was able to make out other unwelcome features. He discovered at least three remotely controlled cameras deployed in the compound. Riley assumed that the cameras were monitored at the nearest pump station, which was pump station 5, only fourteen kilometers to the northwest. According to their intelligence, the remote-control cameras were probably part of the Scoot system sale a British firm had negotiated with the Chinese government a few years previously. The cameras were supposed to have been used in Beijing for traffic control. Apparently the government had decided to use them for other, more important, functions, one of which was guarding this pipeline.

Hoffman could also make out what appeared to be an inner fence consisting of three strands of wire, spaced barely four inches inside the main fence. Cross-referencing with other similar security setups, he deduced that this inner fence was an alarm system, called a T field.

The T-field fence was sensitive to any cutting or tampering with the outer fence, including someone trying to climb it. They were beginning to appreciate the importance of this pipeline to the Chinese based solely on the security dedicated to it.

Keeping that in mind, Riley warned Hoffman and Smith to assume also that the inside of the compound was mined. To reach the berm anchoring the cables, they would have to be prepared to breach a mine field. Once the team got on the ground and put surveillance on the target, they could probably verify if it was mined or not, but Riley intended to worst-case the scenario. It was better to have the equipment and not have to use it, than to not be prepared. Additionally, Riley felt that they had to figure there were regular army patrols along the service road of the pipeline and possibly even overflights by helicopters. It was a military axiom that an obstacle was not an obstacle unless checked and observed at least part of the time.

Riley was impressed with the quality of the satellite imagery they were getting from the NSA. It was top of the line, a vast improvement over what they normally received for training exercises through the Department of Defense. The NSA imagery looked as though the pictures had been taken with a zoom lens from an aircraft at three hundred feet. On a plywood board in the isolation area, Hoffman and Smith put together a 1:25 scale satellite imagery mosaic of the compound.

Stretching his shoulders, Riley took a break from working on the target. He knew that Mitchell was checking on the progress of the other team members, but he wanted to make sure that everything was going all right. As Riley moved about the isolation area, Hooker brought in another batch of messages with information from the FOB.

In his whole career Riley had never seen anything like this setup. Despite its efficiency, it made him a little nervous. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to prepare all this data, and Riley doubted very much that this whole operation was being conducted just to test the reaction of one Special Forces team. He wondered if they were the only mission being mounted or if other forces were in action aimed against China.

Riley watched as Hooker dumped the messages into the in box that Comsky lorded over. The junior medic went through the papers, dutifully logging in each entry, then breaking them down into piles for the various team members who needed to see them. Since the initial mission tasking, the team had been overloaded with information. The hardest part of this phase of isolation was separating what was relevant and what wasn't: making intelligence out of information.

Olinski and Reese were working on the enemy situation in the vicinity of the target, poring through classified documents from the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA), and National Security Agency (NSA) to determine the potential enemy threat.

One of the hardest jobs fell to Trapp. With Paul Lalli, the junior communications sergeant, and Chong, Trapp had begun the task of devising an escape and evasion (E & E) plan. One of the tenets of Special Forces planning was to always have a "go-to-shit" plan, in case the planned exfiltration became unfeasible or something else went wrong. Riley felt comfortable knowing that Trapp was working the E & E plan; whatever the warrant officer came up with would be the best possible strategy.

The senior communications sergeant, Walt O'Shaugnesy, was working with the communications man from the FOB staff to coordinate the satellite communications that the team would use as their electronic lifeline back to the forward operating base. O'Shaugnesy and the FOB man were checking times, message formats, codes to be used, and equipment. Riley watched the two for a few minutes as they worked.

O'Shaugnesy looked as Irish as his name. He had short, sandy hair and a ruddy complexion. He was slightly overweight and Riley was always after him to lose his spare tire and cut back on his off-duty drinking. The bottom line for Riley was whether someone could operate in the field, and O'Shaugnesy could. As long as O'Shaugnesy could perform out in the woods, Riley tolerated the weight and the drinking. But it had been made clear to O'Shaugnesy that if he ever showed up drunk for duty, Riley would have his ass. So far there had never been a problem.

The junior communications sergeant, Paul Lalli, was O'Shaugnesy's drinking buddy, but he was the physical opposite. Lalli was thin and had always pushed Captain Mitchell hard during the team's weekly ten-kilometer physical training runs. Lalli maintained the radios and other communications gear with a jealous passion that Riley liked. Lalli considered the team radios "his gear" and allowed only O'Shaugnesy to "borrow" them. The team normally used the PRC70 radio, which worked in both the FM and high-frequency (HF) ranges. For this mission, though, they would use the PSC3 radio, a satellite communications radio. This arrangement suited Riley, because satellite communications were more secure and reliable than high frequency. Unfortunately for the commo men, the PSC3 was no lighter than the PRC70. The bulky, twenty-three-pound radio added noticeable weight to the commo men's rucks.

Riley wandered over to where Pete Devito, the senior medic, was poring over an area study of China. This was Devito's first step in producing a medical profile of the mission and target area to ensure that each man carried the proper medical equipment for the dangers most likely to be faced. With all the other gear that needed to be carried, Devito and Comsky could not take the entire contents of their M-3 medical kits. Based on his best guess of the potential injuries and wounds, Devito would begin paring down the kits to a manageable size, bringing only the medical supplies and equipment he judged to be most critical.

Completing his circuit, Riley ended up at the table where Mitchell was comparing the maps with the satellite imagery, searching for a drop zone for the infiltration. "Got anything good yet?"

"I think so. Since we're pushed for time we're going to have to go in as close as possible. Plus we want to move around as little as possible for better security." Mitchell stabbed a finger down on the map. "What do you think?"

Riley looked at the indicated point. He started to nod his head slowly as the significance of the drop zone Mitchell had picked sank in. "I like it. Great idea." Mitchell's finger rested on a small patch of blue on the otherwise predominantly green map sheet. The blue represented a small lake, about three kilometers from the target site.

The more Riley thought about the team leader's choice, the more he liked it. There were many advantages to jumping into a water rather than a land drop zone. The first one that came to Riley's mind was ease of finding the drop zone. He knew that for the infil they'd be jumping "blind" from the Combat Talon. A blind jump entailed no spotting by a jumpmaster because there would be no ground marking from a reception party; instead, they would rely on air force navigation to release them over the right spot. The navigator of the Talon had met with them earlier this morning, and had told them he could give them only a 90 percent probability of getting the team within two kilometers of a proposed land drop zone.

Using a large body of water greatly increased the chances of hitting the right location for two reasons: First, the MC-130 Talon navigated by reflected radar images. The smooth, flat surface of the lake would give an excellent radar image to the Talon's navigator, allowing him to zero in on it, as opposed to a land drop zone, which would give off the same image as the surrounding terrain. Second, Riley, as jumpmaster, would now be able to do some spotting from the aircraft; the team wouldn't jump unless he was positive that the plane was over the lake. From bitter experience, Riley knew that there were few things worse than landing not knowing where you were.

Riley thought about another aspect: The water drop zone would be more secure. There was much less chance of running into unfriendlies on a lake late at night than in an open field. Open fields usually had houses next to them. Riley looked over the operational area (OA) on the map. There didn't appear to be any open fields suitable for a drop zone within five kilometers of the target anyway. A second aspect of security was that the parachutes could be hidden by simply sinking them in the lake, precluding a repeat of the great digging exercise they had just conducted.

Riley felt very comfortable with Mitchell's choice. "What about exfil? Had any time to look at that?"

Mitchell scratched his jaw. "Well, Dave, that's another story. There are several places we can use for PZs. That's not a problem. What worries me, though, is that the warning order said we were going to have two MH-60s take us out. Now, I may not be the brightest guy in the world, but I do know a little about the Blackhawk. Jean is rated on that aircraft and I know from her that it doesn't have the range, even with external tanks, to make it from here to the target area and back. Not even close. I'm curious how they think they're going to do this, and who's flying the mission. Especially considering our track record in training with helicopter exfils."

"I couldn't agree more. I'd like to meet the pilots before we go. Makes it a little more personal for them if they see who their passengers are beforehand. And it will make me feel better to look into their eyeballs."

Mitchell smiled. "Yeah. I understand. Some of those fly-boys are too high up in the clouds and need to come down to earth. I'll hit the colonel up and see if I can't get us a meet with someone who can talk to us about exfil. Hopefully we'll get an answer on that today, along with the request for more time."

Fort Meade, Maryland Saturday, 3 June, 0900 Zulu Saturday, 3 June, 4:00 a.m. Local

Lieutenant Colonel Bishop was the duty officer on the night shift for the USSOCOM SFOB exercise staff. He read the message from the FOB requesting an additional twenty-four hours in isolation and another twenty-four on the ground to surveil the target. He considered waking the general, who was sleeping in the billet area in Tunnel 1, to get his opinion, then decided against it.

Bishop looked at the calendar on his desk. If he OK'd this request, the whole exercise would last forty-eight hours longer than it was presently scheduled for. Bishop had no desire to be away from home an extra two days for the sake of a game. Then, he reasoned, Olson would have to relay the request and the "computer chief of staff would probably disapprove it anyway. Bishop sat down at the keyboard and typed out a denial.