Red Tide, стр. 90

But the cruiser’s ship-to-ship YJ-91 missiles had a range of seventy-five miles. That was significantly less than the squadron’s capacity to strike targets one hundred and fifty miles away.

So, what did all this suggest? We’ll fire our missiles while we’re beyond the range of both the railgun and the YJ-91 missiles, Ryson concluded. All of them. From every boat.

Ryson made use of a secure channel to communicate his plan to the rest of the boats. “So, that’s it,” he said. “Any questions?”

All the commanding officers were wondering the same thing: “What if we fail to destroy the Sea Dragon with missiles? What then?”

But, none of them gave voice to their doubts. And that was fortunate. Because Ryson lacked any answers.

***

Mischief Reef, the South China Sea

The Sea Dragon was inside the lagoon at Mischief Reef, the tide was falling, and she would soon be aground. Not by accident, but on purpose.

There had been a time, hundreds of years earlier, when a process called “careening” was used to ground sailing vessels at high tide and expose one side of the ship’s hull. Then, before the water returned, repairs could be made.

And Captain Ko was well aware of the practice. That’s why the cruiser was anchored at the shallow end of the lagoon, not far from the airstrip and the equipment associated with it.

That included a considerable pile of junk and plenty of welding equipment. “This is what we need,” Chief Engineer Hong said, as he tapped a rusty boiler. “Look at that! Curved steel. What more could you want? Cut this section out.”

Hong used a can of white spray paint to outline the rectangle of metal he wanted. Members of his team went to work with cutting torches minutes later.

Meanwhile Lieutenant Jev Jing was waist deep in the lagoon. He was supervising the team of sailors tasked with building a platform for the welders to stand on when the metal “patch” arrived on site.

A jagged hole marked the spot where the Allied torpedo had hit. And, because of two open hatches, the seawater had gushed through the opening, filling three compartments.

The internal hatches separating the compartments should have been closed while the crew was at battle stations. And later, once the cruiser arrived in Yulin, some careless bastard was going to pay.

But that was in the future. In the meantime, a temporary repair was required to prevent more water from leaking out of the flooded compartments and into conduits that led to other parts of the ship.

That’s where the patch came in. But in order to install it, Hong’s crew had to stand on something. And rather than wade around in the lagoon themselves, Jing’s superiors assigned him the task. Jing lacked any relevant experience, and was planning to build a structure made of wood, when a petty officer pointed out that wood floats. And the metal staging used to repair airplanes would constitute a better solution. Jing was thrilled to receive some useful advice and was quick to make the switch.

But to execute the plan it was necessary to take the staging apart, carry it out into the lagoon by hand, and reassemble it with rusty nuts and bolts. Fortunately, the local jet mechanics had a plentiful supply of American WD40 which, when applied to recalcitrant parts, made a huge difference.

So, by the time Hong and twenty sweating sailors lugged the curved piece of metal out to the Sea Dragon, the platform was in place. Hong took a look at it, turned to Jing, and said: “Good job.” It was one of the happiest moments in the young man’s life.

***

Captain Ko was standing in the Sea Dragon’s CIC when the hull shifted under his feet. Metal groaned. That was to be expected.

The hole was located on the port side of the hull. To access the gash, the crew would have to roll the ship to starboard.

What would have been an impossible job on a more traditional ship, was made easy by the fact that Hong’s people could pump water from the port to starboard ballast tanks, thereby shifting enough weight to expose the jagged opening. The Sea Dragon’s decks were slanted as a result which made it difficult to move around inside the hull.

Ko was scanning the latest Intel report. There were no threats inbound from the north, and wouldn’t be, until the battle of Taiwan came to its bloody conclusion.

Then, if the Allies won, they would send units south. But, if China’s fleet was victorious, they would chase the Yemen ren (barbarians) all the way to Japan.

Meanwhile, according to satellite and drone surveillance, nine radar blips were headed for Mischief Reef from the south. Fortunately, based on video from the drone, the blips were patrol boats rather than major warships. It appeared that six were armed with missiles and three weren’t. That’s like sending ants to kill an elephant, Ko mused.

Ego, Ko thought. The greatest enemy of all.

***

Aboard the USS Arcus, northbound in the South China Sea

Sunlight glittered on the surface of the sea as the PHM Arcus led Squadron 7 north. The boat was foilborne and “flying” along at nearly 52 knots. Ryson consulted his watch. The moment was upon them.

Between them the Pegasus 2 patrol boats could launch forty-eight Harpoon missiles. Ryson knew, or thought he knew, that Chinese anti-air weapons would intercept many of them. Others would be drawn off target by mortar launched decoys. But that was the nature of things. All he could do was try. And, by launching all the Harpoons at one time, the total number of incoming weapons might be enough to overwhelm the Sea Dragon’s defenses.

There was another reason as well. A calculation so cold that Ryson was hesitant to admit it to himself. And that was the need to use the Harpoons while he could. Because the destruction of a single PHM would result in the loss of eight offensive weapons. And, according to the techs in