Red Tide, стр. 6
Greer pulled the handle, the ejection seat fired, and the F-18’s canopy blew off. He felt the full force of eighteen Gs as a rocket motor fired him up and out of the plane. Restraining straps tightened as the drogue chute stored behind the seat opened. All in less than two seconds.
The main chute deployed shortly thereafter. Greer felt a jerk as he parted company with the seat and swayed from side-to-side as the ground rushed up to meet him.
That was when Greer had a chance to look around. Trees, all he could see was trees, and they were rising fast. Knees and feet together, Greer thought. This is going to hurt.
***
Aboard the semi-submersible Chinese cruiser Sea Dragon, northeast of Luzon.
Senior Captain Ko was secretly pleased. He knew that the emotion was inappropriate, and felt guilty about it. But, to Ko’s way of thinking, Wen was getting his much-deserved comeuppance. Carriers were important because of their capacity to expand China’s strategic reach, and project its power to every nook and cranny of Southeast Asia.
But flattops were difficult to defend. And, had Wen been willing to send the Sea Dragon in first, it was quite possible that the Henan would have come through undamaged.
But such thoughts were not only unpatriotic, they were a waste of time, and therefore counterproductive. Thanks to the footage supplied by a drone, Ko could assess the situation with his own eyes. And it was clear that, even though the Americans had been able to inflict damage to the Henan, they were in a vulnerable position and could be defeated.
One of the Sea Dragon’s submarine escorts had been able to torpedo and sink an American frigate. Since then, contact had been lost with both Chinese subs, suggesting that they were radio silent for defensive purposes—or had been destroyed.
Shi feared the later, and Ko was inclined to agree, because the Americans made no secret of the fact that at least two attack submarines were normally assigned to each carrier strike group to defend their ships from enemy subs.
Ko’s primary target was a carrier named the USS Concord, assuming the Intel people were correct, and a ship worthy of the Sea Dragon’s railgun. The first for any navy.
Unlike conventional guns that use gunpowder to force a projectile out of a barrel, the Dragon’s railgun relied on electricity to create strong electromagnetic fields between two rails. Then, once in the grip of a conductive device called an armature, a projectile would be propelled down the pathway between the rails and fired downrange.
By launching smaller projectiles at extremely high velocities from the Sea Dragon’s railgun, it was possible to deliver kinetic energy impacts equal to, or superior to, the destructive energy of a 5”/54 caliber naval gun. And to do so at a greater range. Up to 124 miles during sea trials.
There were ancillary benefits too, including the elimination of the hazards associated with carrying propellants and explosives aboard ships, not to mention a significant reduction in the size and weight of projectiles. Couple the railgun’s virtues with the semi-submersible’s stealthy characteristics and a new class of warships was being born.
Ko was in Operations One, standing behind the rating who would actually fire the gun, and well aware of what was at stake. The outcome of an important battle? Yes. But, more than that, the fate of a new technology. And one that could make an important difference in the way that World War III turned out. That was why Ko felt a sudden emptiness in the pit of his stomach.
When not in use the Sea Dragon’s railgun was below deck, protected from the weather, and easier to maintain. Now it was elevated and ready to fire. The coordinates of the enemy ship had been loaded and were being updated every five seconds.
All Ko had to do in order to fire the weapons was give a few simple commands. “Prepare to fire the railgun.”
“All lights are green,” the gunnery tech replied. “The railgun is ready to fire.”
Ko drew a deep breath. “Fire!”
***
Lieutenant Jing’s superiors were on duty in the duplicate CIC. So he, as a junior officer, was stationed in the aft conning tower. The overlapping white contrails looked like childish scribbles. Smoke boiled up to the south and the distant thump of an explosion was heard.
Large though the Sea Dragon was, Jing could feel the cruiser lurch as the crack of what sounded like lightning was heard, and a “smart” shell soared upwards.
Thanks to an automated loading system the railgun could fire a shell every sixty seconds. And Jing watched in awe as four additional shells flew downrange. Would they strike the target? And, if they did, how much damage would the projectiles cause?
***
Aboard the aircraft carrier USS Concord, east of Luzon
After reaching apogee the first smart shell fell at a steep angle. It was travelling at 5,000 mph. As a result, the Concord’s computers were just starting to process the event when the projectile hit the flight deck, forward of the carrier’s superstructure.
The shell wasn’t armed with an explosive charge. Nor did it need to be. Kinetic energy was enough to drill a hole through the flight deck, the crew quarters below, and the hangar deck, before the projectile shattered and sent shrapnel flying in every direction.
Admiral Hoyer and Captain Danby were in the CDC, celebrating the hits on the Henan, when the railgun shell arrived. “What the fuck was that?” Hoyer demanded as the carrier shook and alarms sounded.
“Some sort of missile,” Danby guessed, as flames appeared through the hole in the flight deck. And then the second shell slammed into the ship, quickly followed by three more. The last of which scored a direct hit on the island, destroying the carrier’s CDC, and killing everyone in it.
***
Aboard the semi-submersible Chinese cruiser Sea Dragon, northeast of Luzon.
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