Red Tide, стр. 72
Nguyen sipped her wine. “And if the Chinese find out?”
Kelsey shrugged. “That would be a bad thing. But I assume you choose your crews with care. And have ways to ensure their loyalty. Plus, all they’d have to do is send the coordinates. Nothing more would be expected of them. So, it’s very unlikely that the Chinese will be able to intercept such a short transmission, make sense of it, and identify the source.”
“You’re an excellent saleswoman,” Nguyen said. “Let me know if you get tired of working for your father. I will consult with my staff and get back to you.”
The business meeting was over. But the get-together lasted for another half hour. Then, after goodbyes had been said, the visitors were taken back to the point where the Mercedes was waiting. Kelsey was dog tired.
After reaching her bed Kelsey expected to crash. But sleep refused to come. Because the most important part of her trip, the part her father cared about more than anything, was still undone. And that was to finalize the arrangements required to rescue her half-sister Rong Parker from a Chinese prison.
***
Aboard the Arcus, north of Samir Island, the South China Sea
The PHM Arcus was foilborne and going full tilt. Having boarded a Chinese missile boat, and searched the vessel for intelligence, the American crew was faced with an additional crisis.
According to Ryson’s XO, Lieutenant Commander Linda Vos, Samir was under attack by Chinese planes and surface vessels. She’d been in touch with the United States Indo-Pacific Command and they were sending fighters from Manado. The closest naval units were Squadron 7’s Arcus, which was about an hour away, and the HMAS Kalbarri which was two hours out.
That meant Vos and Squadron 7 personnel were on their own for the moment. Ryson was standing in the “Arc’s” CIC. And, thanks to a drone and satellite link, Ryson could see what was taking place on Samir. It wasn’t pretty. An Armindale had been hit, and was on fire. A column of black smoke rose to mark the center of the lagoon.
Half a mile out to sea two Chinese ships were visible. The larger of the two was a corvette. It was bow-on to the island and firing an automatic cannon. Ryson could see geysers of dirt and sand leap into the air as high explosive shells marched across the island.
Ryson felt a wave of guilt. He was the one who had put people on Samir. And the Chinese saw it as a threat. One they were determined to eliminate.
The good news was that both the C-RAM and the Tor missile system were still up and running. Yes, it was obvious that one enemy missile had been able to penetrate the Tor’s protective shield, but no defensive system was likely to be 100 percent effective.
As for the threat from above—the air attack had let up. “The Chinese fighters are still here,” Vos’s radioman volunteered. “But they’re flying circles around us just out of range.”
Ryson’s attention was centered on the corvette. The PHM’s Combat Systems Officer Molly Jayson stood next to him. “Let’s take the corvette out,” he said. “Ask the skipper for permission.” The request was little more than a formality and permission was granted.
Jayson gave the order and two Harpoon missiles leaped into the air and flew downrange. The Chinese ship was well within the missiles’ one-hundred-and-fifty-mile range, and the weapons were traveling at five hundred mph when they hit the enemy vessel’s bow and stern.
What happened next was a sight to see. There were two fiery red explosions. One forward of the superstructure and one aft of it. Then, in what looked like slow motion, the ship broke into three sections. The middle portion of the ship went down first. Quickly followed by the stern. Debris bobbed. And sailors, perhaps a dozen, were thrashing about.
The bow remained partially afloat with the prow pointed at the sky. The stick figure which had been clinging to it splashed into the water. You can do this Linda, Ryson thought. Stop those bastards.
***
Samir Island, the South China Sea
Lieutenant Commander Linda Vos peered through her binoculars and smiled as the Harpoon missiles hit the corvette. Thank you, Commander Ryson, she thought, as most of the warship sank.
Her Armindale, the Perth, had been destroyed by an air launched missile. One officer and three Australian sailors were killed. She would grieve for them later. The battle wasn’t over.
Vos could see movement through the smoke pouring up from the Perth. The Chinese Landing Craft Air Cushion (LCAC) was about to enter the lagoon. It was big, ugly, and shaped like a barge.
The concept was simple. By trapping a cushion of air beneath itself an LCAC could skim the surface of the sea while propeller-like fans drove it forward. And, when once the landing craft hit a beach, it could slide part way up and out of the water. That made LCACs perfect for landing troops and vehicles.
What looked like the front of a modern railroad engine was positioned forward on the vessel’s port side. Two bulky gas turbine engines were mounted behind it. A stubby radar mast was located in the stern. It sported a Chinese flag that whipped in the wind.
A boxcar shaped structure occupied the opposite side of the hydrofoil with two additional engines located aft of it. The cargo area between the islands was packed with Chinese soldiers and crates of what? Ammo, that’s what. Plus, everything they would need for staying on Samir once the battle was won.
LCACs were notoriously noisy as turbine engines roared, spray flew every which way, and windshield wipers slapped back and forth