Fatal Thunder: A Jerry Mitchell Novel (36 page)

She could see nodding heads, and pressed home her point. “This is the alliance’s problem as much as China’s. When something this bad happens, everyone suffers.”

Liao spoke again. “Normally, a matter like this would be discussed at length, with the senior military and civilian representative from each country speaking in turn. However, given the urgency, I will speak for the alliance without discussion and say that we will assist our Indian ally in finding, and if necessary, sinking this submarine. We welcome U.S. participation in this effort. Are there any objections?”

Each representative said “no,” in turn, even the Indians, but the military representative quickly changed his vote to “abstain,” sounding confused and unhappy. “I must believe this is actually happening, but my heart cannot let me vote yes.”

The Taiwanese ambassador nodded sympathetically. “I understand, but your help will be vital in this.”

The Indian’s expression hardened. “You will have it, I promise.”

Liao asked, “Doctor, do you have any recommendations? You have been working with this for some time now and presumably have some thoughts.”

“Our chief of naval operations will start sending your military staff what intelligence we have on
Chakra,
as well as any information on our own and Chinese ship, submarine, and aircraft movements. And although your countries have excellent submarines, we strongly recommend that you do not use them in the search. In fact, if you have any submarines operating in that area, you should recall them immediately. There is too much risk of a blue-on-blue incident.”

The military officers were nodding agreement. The senior military officer was a Philippine Navy captain, and he said, “We concur, and will provide location data for any of our subs in
Chakra
’s path until they are all clear of the area. We will also share and coordinate our plans with our American friends.” He paused, then added, “It might be best, if for the moment, that any information on Chinese movements came from you, rather than directly from Chinese sources.”

Hughes nodded, smiling. “And we will, of course, inform the Chinese of Littoral Alliance movements, to make sure there is no duplication of effort.”

Or unfriendly encounters,
Patterson thought. Nerves were still raw, and this business didn’t need any more complications.

6 April 2017

2100 Local Time

The Oval Office, the White House

Washington, D.C.

This time, Joanna Patterson waited to be announced and admitted before going into the Oval Office. Secretary Lloyd and the president were both waiting for her. “Done, Mr. President,” she announced with satisfaction. “They’re not happy at having to find out from us, but they’re even more unhappy about the problem. They’ve agreed to coordinate with us through Guam, and Admiral Hughes has gone back to the Pentagon to get it organized.”

The two men looked disappointed, and Myles, looking at Lloyd, said, “It doesn’t matter. We can reach him there.”

Puzzled, Patterson asked, “Should I have kept him with me?”

Myles gave a small shake of his head. “No, Joanna, it’s fine. He has a lot to do, and you couldn’t have anticipated this. Nobody could.”

Her heart started to sink. “What’s happened?”

Myles quickly reassured her. “Nothing bad. It’s just—unusual.”

Lloyd said, “While you were in meetings with the Chinese and then the Littoral Alliance, I was informing the other governments of what we had decided.” He paused for a moment, then declared, “The Indians want Girish Samant to take part in the hunt for
Chakra
, ‘as a witness,’ as they put it. They’re making arrangements to fly him to Guam.” He then reprised his conversation with the Indian foreign secretary.

By this time she’d sat down, and found herself agreeing with the Indians’ logic. “It makes sense,” she said, nodding. “If nothing else, they will be able to say it was a joint operation.”

“Then I called the Russians,” Lloyd reported, “to inform them that
Chakra
had sailed. They were not happy at the thought of their bootleg warheads actually being used. They want Alex Petrov there, as well.” He saw her surprised expression, but didn’t give her a chance to speak. “They also want to say they were involved in the ‘search for and destruction of’ the warheads.”

“By sinking the sub they’re carried on.” She made a face.

“The Russians were not happy that the Indians had let
Chakra
leave, in spite of a two-day warning. They reminded me that Petrov has the best information on
Chakra
’s technical characteristics, since changes were made after Samant turned over command.” Lloyd added, “I agreed, and the president has approved the request. I’ve already called the Hyderabad consulate and told them to load Petrov on the same plane as Samant. They’ll be glad to have those two off their hands. What’s left is to tell Admiral Hughes to expect two foreign observers at Guam for the duration of the operation. If nothing else, he has to find them a place to stay…”

“On the base, you mean.” She interrupted. “On Guam.” When he started to agree, she said firmly, “That won’t work. They’ll be treated as fifth wheels, and won’t be able to help. Besides their information is more tactical; putting them at the headquarters doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

Lloyd shrugged. “That’s where the operation will be run,” he said. “Where else…” He paused, then frowned and shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Put them aboard Jerry’s sub,” she insisted. “We know
North Dakota
is the best sub in Squadron Fifteen, and Simonis has already said he’s going to place her off of Hong Kong—the most likely first target. She has the best chance of finding and killing
Chakra
.”

“And I do not get a good feeling about putting an Indian and Russian aboard a sub that will probably have to fire on a Russian-built, Indian-crewed submarine.”

“That is precisely why we need them aboard. Petrov knows the boat better than anyone else, and Samant knows the new skipper.” She looked to President Myles, who was watching them both silently.

“And what if they attempt to interfere somehow?” Myles asked.

“I think there’s little chance of that,” she replied. “They’ve both showed, at considerable risk to themselves, that they aren’t driven simply by national interests.”

“One could suggest they’ve both acted in their higher national interests. Honorably,” Myles concluded. After a short pause, he added, “The Navy won’t be happy, they’re allergic to this sort of thing, but I’ll tell Simonis, through the chain, to put them aboard
North Dakota
. We get only one good crack at stopping
Chakra
before she launches a nuclear weapon. It needs to be our best shot.”

16

EN ROUTE

8 April 2017

1800 Local Time

Andersen Air Force Base

Guam

The Indian Navy P-8 aircraft descended smoothly toward the tarmac, two short puffs of smoke marking when the tires touched the concrete. The aircraft rolled to the far end of runway 24R, passing by a half dozen B-52s parked in the center of the field, before turning left onto a taxiway that led to the air base terminal.

Glenn Jacobs paced impatiently by the car. He was anxious to collect his passengers, no, his guests, and get them to the pier as fast as he could. He wanted this bothersome evolution over and done with, preferably before his commodore suffered a severe stroke. Jacobs vividly recalled the video conversation Simonis had with his immediate boss, Rear Admiral Burroughs, yesterday evening. The chief staff officer had
never
seen that shade of purplish red on Simonis’s face before, and if Jacobs had anything to do with it, he didn’t want to ever see it again.

*   *   *

“Yes, sir, I get it that we have to work with India and Russia, truly,” complained Simonis bitterly. “But that can easily be accommodated by having them observe the operation from my watch floor! Putting them on
North Dakota
is just a boondoggle, and a violation of every security safeguard we’ve ever put in place!”

“I’m sympathetic, Chuck, but those security regs were written for more ‘normal times.’ This current crisis is far from normal,” Burroughs countered.

“Admiral, Dr. Patterson has gone too far by demanding we put two foreign senior naval officers, both qualified submarine commanders, onto our newest class of attack submarines! They’ll be able to understand every single detail they see!”

“For the record, Chuck, she didn’t demand. She made a recommendation to the president, who agreed with her argument—as did the CNO, and Pac Fleet, for that matter. Captain Samant knows
Chakra
’s current commanding officer intimately. He trained him and knows how he thinks. Captain Petrov personally supervised the modifications to the submarine’s sonar system, and he’s bringing a complete set of technical manuals with him. The information these men possess will be of tremendous value in finding and neutralizing the Akula, hopefully before it can deploy any nuclear weapons. And since
North Dakota
is our first line of defense, it made sense to put the two men on her.”

“And the fact that both Samant and Petrov are on friendly terms with Patterson, and Mitchell, didn’t influence this request at all?” grumbled Simonis sarcastically. “Sir, neither the CNO nor the Pacific Fleet commander are submariners, they don’t fully understand why those regulations were created in the first place! To prevent our critical technological advantage from being compromised!”

Burroughs’s expression hardened. He was visibly losing patience with Simonis.

“Commodore, if anyone doesn’t understand this present situation, it’s you. We are desperately trying to prevent an escalation of a conventional conflict into one that sees the wide-scale use of nuclear weapons. Can you not grasp that? How can the knowledge of these two individuals be of any help to Commander Mitchell when they are stuck in Guam and he’s out searching for a very quiet boat that had just been updated, and is doing its damnedest not to be found. Is he going to spend his whole patrol at periscope depth just so he can call in at a moment’s notice for tactical guidance?!

“The president has ordered our
full
cooperation with those nations who have offered assistance to stop this rogue boat. Let me repeat,
full
cooperation, and it was he who told the Navy to put the two captains on
North Dakota
. Given the circumstances, Commodore, are you that surprised the security manual just got tossed into the bilge? You can place whatever
reasonable
restrictions you believe are necessary to limit access to the more sensitive areas on
North Dakota
, but your orders are to get those men on board and Mitchell out to sea, expeditiously. I suggest you carry them out.”

*   *   *

Jacobs had felt bad watching his boss get smacked by another senior official. Once was bad enough, but twice! In the same day—ouch!

Ironically, the CSO completely understood where Simonis was coming from. The commodore was a strictly “by the book” naval officer. He knew exactly what had to be done, and how to meet the incredible amount of bureaucratic bookkeeping required by a peacetime navy. The problem was, the squadron wasn’t exactly operating in a peacetime mode right now, and one of Simonis’s precious books had just been cast aside. And while the CNO’s decision might have been influenced by political expediency, Admiral Hughes was an acknowledged “horse trader” within Washington circles. The truth of the matter was, it just made good sense, and the risk of compromise had been deemed acceptable by a competent authority.

Simonis’s main problem was that he was risk-averse, and he wanted to play it safe. But Jacobs also knew that his commodore would follow his orders regardless of whether or not he liked them. The combination had made for interesting times at the squadron headquarters during the Sino–Littoral Alliance War, and now that round two was just getting started, there would be more to follow. The best thing Jacobs could do for his boss was to get Samant and Petrov on
North Dakota
, and have Mitchell get his butt to sea. Once all the three boats were on their way to their assigned patrol areas, the squadron headquarters could get into a steady routine—establishing a sustainable battle rhythm was high on Jacobs’s list of things to do.

*   *   *

The aircraft slowly taxied to the parking apron, coming to a complete stop only when the marshaler crossed his batons. The airman then gave the hand signals for the pilot to cut the engines and for the ground crew to move in with the chocks for the landing gear wheels. Before the engines had even wound down, the forward fuselage door opened and a folding ladder was extended. As soon as the legs hit the ground, two men emerged from the aircraft and hustled down the ladder. Jacobs quickly moved forward to greet them.

“Captain Petrov, Captain Samant, I’m Glenn Jacobs, welcome to Guam. This way, please,” he said hurriedly.

Two airmen grabbed the men’s seabags from the Indian flight crew and tossed them into the car’s trunk. The moment it was closed, the car sped off toward the submarine piers. A military police escort accompanied them, clearing the traffic ahead.

“My apologies for the abrupt welcome, but I have to get you two down to
North Dakota
immediately. We’ve held her for almost twenty-fours hours while we waited for you to get here, and I really need to get that boat to sea,” explained Jacobs as the car took off. His words were polite, but his tone was stern.

“Completely understandable, Captain Jacobs,” Petrov replied. “Although, I was very surprised that your government offered to allow us to go out on Jerry’s boat. I’m certain my government didn’t make that a condition for my assistance.”

“They didn’t, but the knowledge the two of you have argued strongly that you belong on
North Dakota
. Your relationship with the national security advisor didn’t hurt, either. She’s the one who came up with the idea.” Jacobs was frowning as he spoke.