Red Tide, стр. 87

Hong nodded. “We will get in. But will we get out?”

“Exactly,” Ko replied. “The answer is up to Tianfei.”

“And the Allies.”

Ko grinned. “‘And the Allies.’”

***

The storm raged for hours. But finally, around 0300, the maelstrom began to abate. The Sea Dragon’s crew was exhausted by then. Physical injuries included a broken arm, a lacerated forehead, a concussion, two sprains, and a case of dehydration so severe than an IV drip was required.

Those on duty struggled to maintain focus. And those who were off duty found it hard to sleep. Fortunately, there were no emergencies to contend with. And, from Ko’s point of view, the discomfort had been worth it as the Sea Dragon approached the Gulf of Thailand.

The ship rounded Ca Mau Cape off of Cambodia at 0546. The next leg of the journey involved steaming north through the Gulf of Thailand to the Bight of Bangkok. That would put the capitol city inside the seventy-five-mile range of the cruiser’s YJ-91 missiles. Hong’s words echoed in Ko’s head. “We will get in. But will we get out?”

Four hundred and fifty miles to go, Ko thought. The latest weather report was calling for three-to-four-foot waves, force winds of two-to-six, plus heavy rain and reduced visibility. That, Ko believed, combined with the Sea Dragon’s low radar cross section, would allow the ship to proceed undetected.

The trip lasted all day and into the evening. That at least was a good thing, since it would permit the Sea Dragon to withdraw under the cover of darkness. Glimmers of light could be seen at times, but had a tendency to appear and disappear, as squalls passed through the area.

The ship’s complement of two hundred missiles had been divided in half, with one hundred earmarked for the attack, and a hundred reserved for the return trip.

Fully half of those launchers were loaded with antiair weapons. As in the past Ko planned to rely on his submarine escort to defend the Sea Dragon from Allied attack subs. Although, rather than the two escorts assigned to Ko previously, there was only one. “Attack subs are in short supply,” Chao told him. “Sorry. But that’s how it is.”

Most of the Dragon’s ship-to-ship, or in this case ship-to-shore, missiles had been loaded with targeting information provided by MSS and military intelligence.

Ten weapons had been set aside for his highness King Yingluck Chulaloke. Because, once he was dead, the political situation would revert to what China viewed as normal, and the possibility of a southern front would be foreclosed.

But, unlike the government buildings slated for destruction, Rama XI was a moving target. So spies had been assigned to track the royal’s movements, and upload his location just prior to the attack at 1800.

And sure enough, the necessary coordinates were downloaded at 1745, which gave the Sea Dragon’s operations people fifteen minutes to program the YJ-91s.

Ko didn’t care where Chulaloke was, so long as the King was within range, which was the case. So, when the time came, all Ko had to do was give two simple orders: “Prepare to fire missiles … Fire!” The Sea Dragon shuddered as missiles left their tubes at a rate of one every eight seconds.

Once the last YJ-91 was in the air, the Chinese cruiser turned south. Damage assessments would be conducted by spies and satellites in space.

Home. That was the only thing Ko cared about.

There was no counterattack by Thailand’s government, which lacked the capability to sort the Sea Dragon out of the clutter on their radar screens, or to launch retaliatory missile strikes.

But Allies had the means to not only search for the attacker but to rain hell down on it. And Ko knew the search had begun. His exit strategy was brutally simple. Kill everything that got in the way. And that was why he’d been careful to keep the ship’s sometimes cantankerous railgun in reserve. Ko was counting on it, plus the one hundred missiles waiting in the ship’s tubes, to clear a path.

The weather continued to improve, as the semisubmersible made a beeline for the Ca Mau Cape, and the South China Sea beyond. The cloak of darkness was like an old friend.

But it was only a matter of time before the eastern sky began to lighten and the sun rose. Though partially submerged, the Sea Dragon’s conning towers were exposed.

But when the attack came, it was from beneath the surface of the sea, rather than from above. The Australian Collins-class sub, HMAS Danson, managed to fire all of her torpedo tubes, before being attacked by the Sea Dragon’s underwater escort.

Five of the Danson’s six torpedoes were drawn off target by the Sea Dragon’s decoys. But one of the Mark 48 torpedoes scored a hit.

***

Lieutenant Jev Jing felt the impact. Alarms went off. Compartments were sealed. And Jing felt a stab of fear. No! It couldn’t be. The Sea Dragon was invulnerable to enemy fire!

Captain Ko delivered the news via the ship’s intercom. “The ship was struck by a single torpedo. Three compartments were flooded. But since those spaces house empty missile launchers our capacity to maneuver and fight remains undiminished. The enemy submarine was destroyed. Carry on.”

The truth was slightly different. The additional weight in the flooded compartments had a negative effect on the semisubmersible’s buoyancy. And there was the possibility that it would generate noise that enemy sonar could detect.

But Ko saw no reason to disclose that information. Nor did he mention the fact that, if the Allied sub had been able to get a message off, then the Allies knew where the Sea Dragon was. And they would respond accordingly. An assumption that was proven to be accurate only minutes later. Suddenly, according to a high priority message from naval headquarters in Beijing— the lead elements of an American carrier group had left Japan—and were steaming south.

But Admiral Chao was ready for such a move, and countered by sending a Chinese carrier group north.