Fatal Thunder: A Jerry Mitchell Novel (30 page)

Tomasz let them absorb the data for a few moments before adding, “This slide makes several assumptions that are out of my jurisdiction. Most relate to economic behavior and would change the overall values by five or ten percent. But the biggest variable, and one I can’t predict, is the stability of the Chinese government and the maintenance of social order.”

“A revolution,” Secretary Lloyd remarked grimly.

“Anarchy,” Tomasz responded. “A weak, discredited central government without the ability to rule; in essence, a failed state. Assuming a near-complete breakdown of authority and essential services, which will limit the ability of the Chinese Army to maintain order, chaos and massive civil unrest would almost certainly occur.”

“You could have several revolutions,” Myles added. “Tibet. The Uyghurs.”

“And what happens when North Korea can’t get its food from China anymore?”

Tomasz shrugged. “It’s impossible to separate economics and politics, but I’ve learned the dangers of trying to predict events based on economic forecasts. I will say this: Based on this forecast, the Chinese would be
lucky
if they only suffered a severe depression, and the effects of that would be felt worldwide, including here. Just as the 1929 New York stock market crash triggered the Great Depression, China could drag the rest of the world down with it.”

“We’re too tightly connected, these days,” Myles agreed. “Knock China down and we’ll all fall over. What about India?”

“Economically, she’d be hurt as well. She doesn’t have much trade with China these days, but she does with other countries that will be affected. It’s a downward spiral for everyone.”

“India’s economic condition after the attack won’t matter,” Defense Secretary Geisler countered. “If China finds out who did this to them, they’ll retaliate with their own nuclear weapons, and India will in turn shoot back. If that submarine launches those torpedoes, we’ll have the first general nuclear exchange between the world’s two largest and oldest nations.”

“What’s worse than an apocalypse?” Myles asked to nobody in particular. He then continued, “Thank you, Dr. Tomasz and Dr. Patterson. I am declaring that stopping this attack is in the vital interests of the United States.” He took the time to look directly at Lloyd, Geisler, and Greg Alexander, Director of National Intelligence.

“Do we warn the Chinese?” Lloyd asked.

After a moment’s pause, Myles replied. “Not yet. I can imagine the Chinese reacting in many different ways, all of them bad, and any hope of working with the Indians would be gone forever. As long as that sub hasn’t sailed, it’s only a plot, and the Indians should be able to deal with it themselves. That would look better to China, when the word does get out. But SECDEF,” he turned to face Geisler, “start moving anything that would help toward the area, just in case.”

6 April 2017

1810 Local Time

INS
Chakra

Naval Shipyard

Visakhapatnam, India

Jain wondered if this was some sort of test, intended to find out exactly how much stress he could take. He’d considered asking Mitra, but the captain either was a very good actor or, for reasons still unexplained, was serious about having
Chakra
leave tonight.

Everyone else in the shipyard took it seriously. Workers were feverishly preparing the submarine for departure. The reactor was critical and the last checks in the engine room were being completed, and Mitra had assured him that two tugs would be standing by at 2100 to get him under way. Trucks with stores and foodstuffs were stacked five deep on the pier, and working parties from all over the yard had been drafted into getting the provisions aboard. In fact, supplies were coming aboard so quickly that his crew did not have time to store them properly.

And now this. In the midst of that chaos, five more torpedoes had arrived to be loaded, accompanied by two Russian civilians bearing a letter from Admiral Dhankhar.
Chakra
’s torpedomen had been helping the rest of the crew, and he’d had to pull them off working parties to rig the loading tray.

While Lieutenant Commander Rakash, his first officer, supervised the loading, Jain read the admiral’s letter, then read it again. No information, just more confusion. “Treat your two visitors as VIPs, and come see me immediately.”

At least there was no problem finding berths for them. Two of his officers and eight of the crew were off the boat, scheduled to return in time for the boat’s originally planned sailing tomorrow.

But what were they going to do? “Weapons specialists” did not tell him anything useful, although it was obviously connected with
Chakra
’s sudden sailing.

Saluting the naval ensign at the fantail, Jain crossed the brow from the boat onto the pier. The warm evening was filled with the voices and the sounds of machinery, and Jain had to thread his way past sailors and yard workers and stacked boxes.

He saw his first officer near the bow. Rakash was acting as the safety observer as the torpedoes were winched over and lowered onto a horizontal tray that would guide them into the sub’s torpedo room.

Rakash turned and saluted as Jain approached. “Everything’s going smoothly here, sir. We should be done in about half an hour.”

Jain forced himself to smile casually and returned the salute. “That’s good to hear, Number One. If there’s any part of this bedlam that should not dissolve into madness, it’s loading those torpedoes.”

Jain gestured down the pier. “I’m off then to see the admiral. Hopefully I’ll find out what this is all about.”

Rakash said, “The latest rumor, thanks to the arrival of those two Russian riders, is that we’re bound for Russia to get a secret weapon to use against Pakistan.”

“Replacing the one about the Pakistani spy that supposedly sabotaged the dry dock?” Jain shook his head.

The first officer shrugged, then nodded sagely. “I personally prefer the one about the secret Pakistani naval base best.”

“I almost hoped that one was true,” Jain replied. Taking a deep breath, he ordered, “Whip her into shape, Number One, and I’ll be back, hopefully with our orders.”

Jain strode quickly off into the darkness.

13

SORTIE

6 April 2017

1840 Local Time

INS
Circars
, Eastern Naval Command Headquarters

Visakhapatnam, India

The outer office was empty, and the door to the inner sanctum was open, although the opening was dark. Just inside the door, Jain hesitated. Where was the admiral’s staff? It was late, but the admiral and his staff often worked late into the evening. The letter had said to come immediately. Jain assumed he was to report to Dhankhar’s office, but could he have been mistaken? He reopened the letter to see if he had missed something. No, nothing.

*   *   *

Dhankhar saw the outer office door open, but didn’t get up right away, and he left the lights in his office off. He was expecting Jain, but there could be others with him.

The admiral hadn’t completely decided what he would do if the authorities showed up to arrest him. He was a loyal Indian officer, and he didn’t want to shoot men only doing their duty, but Vajra was so close to success. All he had to do was give Jain his orders, and watch
Chakra
leave port. After that, his duty was done, and he had a hiding place so secret that he’d be perfectly safe until after Vajra was complete.

Dhankhar had no illusions about his chances if CBI sent a SWAT team to arrest him. But what if it was just a few investigators, sent to check out “some wild conspiracy story”? He might—no, he’d probably use the pistol.

“Hello? Is anyone here? Admiral?” Jain called out.

Dhankhar could see that Jain was alone and rose from the corner chair. He put the pistol out of sight with one hand and turned the overhead light switch on with the other. “Captain Jain, come in, please.”

Jain walked into the now fully lit office. “Sir, is everything all right?”
Chakra
’s captain looked worried and confused.

Everything is definitely not all right, but it will be soon,
Dhankhar thought. He ignored Jain’s question, and gestured toward two chairs in a corner of the office. “Please sit.”

As Jain sat down, Dhankhar took the other chair and asked casually, “How is the chaos at the dock?”

Jain laughed and answered, “We’re coping, sir. The crew is performing wonderfully. We should be ready to sail by twenty-one hundred hours, maybe even a little earlier.” The officer began to say something else, but then stopped himself.

“And you’re wondering what the rush is all about, of course.” Dhankhar smiled. “‘What are they thinking in headquarters? Are they all insane?’ I’ve been there, Captain. But you’ve done your best to follow your orders without question, because you believed that it would all be revealed in the fullness of time.”

Dhankhar stood and walked over to his desk and picked up a fat package, then turned and handed it to Jain. “This will answer all your questions. It has the nautical charts, codes, and everything else you will need for your mission.”

Jain could see only one word on the outside: “Vajra.” It didn’t tell him much.

Dhankhar said formally, “As soon as you are able, leave Vizag and proceed to the waters off the People’s Republic of China. Those five torpedoes that were just loaded on board your boat have nuclear warheads. You will fire them into the five ports listed in your sailing plan.”

As Jain half rose out of his chair, the admiral held out one hand, forestalling any questions. “You see now why you were not told of this sooner.” Jain nodded his understanding. “Security has been extraordinarily tight. Only the highest levels of our government are aware of Vajra, but even so, we believe some elements of a hostile intelligence arm may have gotten hints of our plans. Pakistani, Chinese, Russian? We’re not sure.

“That’s why we had to accelerate our schedule so suddenly. From my office, you will proceed directly back to your boat, speaking to no one else. Do not open this envelope until you’re back aboard, and
Chakra
is safely under way.”

Dhankhar watched Jain closely as he spoke. The admiral had rehearsed these orders dozens of times, because they had to be perfect, and Jain had to accept them wholeheartedly.

“The warheads are all set to detonate at the same time, in sixteen days. If you follow the sailing plan, you will be well away from the coast before they explode.

“The destruction of those five ports will throw China into economic and political upheaval, but more importantly, it will also signal the start of an early offensive by our army and air force into Pakistan. Surprised, and without Chinese support, the Pakistanis will crumble, and the war will be over in weeks. So your part in the operation is not just vital—it is the beginning of everything else, and with a little luck, will finally bring India the victory we have been working for.”

Jain was absorbing the information, but appeared thunderstruck, wide-eyed.

Using a more relaxed manner, Dhankhar sat down again next to the submarine captain. “Operationally, it should be almost boring. The Chinese, we hope, have no idea of our plans, so it’s just a matter of sailing from port to port, and at each of the firing positions described here,” he tapped the package, “launching one of the specially modified torpedoes into the harbor. It will settle to the bottom and wait for the appointed time. After you fire the fifth weapon, take a roundabout course back home. If things go as we expect, by the time you return, the Paks will have surrendered, and you can expect a hero’s welcome. I dare say that your reputation will surpass that of your former commanding officer, Captain Samant.” The admiral smiled encouragingly.

Jain’s eyes flicked with excitement, and when he finally spoke, his voice was calm. “I will do my best to remain covert, of course, but what if the Chinese do detect my presence, and evasion does not work?”

Dhankhar rejoiced inside. Jain had accepted the mission, and the story. “Engage only as an absolute last resort, but your survival, and your mission, are paramount. Recent experience has showed us just how bad Chinese antisubmarine warfare capabilities are. You should be able to press on, even if they have learned of our plan. Also, there are alternate targets in the package, if for any reason, you cannot attack one of the primaries.”

Jain nodded his understanding, and the admiral added, “And if you encounter Chinese-flagged vessels, naval or civilian, after the bombs have exploded, attack them at your discretion. The gloves are off, Captain. We’ll finish our fight with China, as well as Pakistan.”

The submariner grinned wolfishly. “Good. I had friends aboard
Arihant
.”

“That’s all, then. I’ll be down there presently to watch you get under way.”

As Jain stood, Dhankhar offered his hand. “Good luck, Captain. Our country’s future is going with you.”

Jain took the admiral’s hand, and as they shook, Dhankhar could see a shadow pass across the captain’s face. As Jain turned to leave, Dhankhar added, “It would be only natural to think about the many Chinese casualties your attack will cause. Wiser men have already discussed and argued over this. China is the largest country in the world. Only a massive blow, something that inflicts true injury, will knock her out of the war. She’s been using the Paks as proxies for years to kill our people. This will bring the war home to her, as well as ending it for us. No second thoughts. You have your orders.”

Coming to attention, Jain put on his uniform cap and saluted crisply. “I won’t disappoint you, sir.”

6 April 2017

2000 Local Time

Squadron Fifteen Commander’s Residence

Naval Base Guam

The secure phone had a distinctive ring. It wasn’t loud, but its unique sound alerted Captain Simonis and brought him upright out of the couch, his book fell to the ground as he rushed over and grabbed the phone. “Simonis.”

“Sir, this is Lieutenant Keyes, the squadron watch officer.” He recognized her voice. “We’ve received an operational-precedence message from CNO via SUBPAC. They want us to make all boats ready for sea.”