Larry Bond - Shattered Trident

“Something other than what?” Gaffney was still thinking about the sonar signal, and hadn’t made the connection. Thigpen and Covey had figured it out.

Jerry explained, “He’s waiting for a ‘go’ code.”

26 August 2016

By Water

Halifax, Nova Scotia

Bywater’s Blog

China Exercise Largest Ever?

There is information from correspondents ( here ) that the exercise announced by China will be the largest in its history, involving all three fleets (South Sea, East Sea, and North Sea). Information at chinadefense.comand portreporter.comshows unusual activity at naval bases as far north as Dalian.

One clue about the type of exercises has been provided by Chien585 ( here ), a member on Taiwan, who monitors the Chinese-flagged merchant fleet. He noted that as many as two dozen vessels have been taken off their normal runs and have congregated at Chinese naval bases.

This implies a convoy or protection of shipping exercise, but on a scale not seen before. Typical naval exercises will have one or two token merchants play the part of an entire convoy. In this case, the Chinese may be trying to see if the PLAN can successfully manage large groups of merchant ships. This is not an easy task for any navy, and the Chinese fleet is entirely new to this. They are definitely stepping off at the deep end.

Mac sat back and reread the entry before hitting the “Return” key. It would be interesting to see how successful the Chinese exercises were. They seemed to be serious about becoming a blue-water power. But now he had that article to write.

The phone rang as Mac tried to confirm the manufacturer of a ship’s steam propulsion plant. This was not net research. Centuries-old copies of Brassey’s Annual and Scientific American were scattered across the library floor, and he had to first disentangle himself from the pile of reference books, carefully stand, and then hurry to get the handset. He made it on the fifth ring.

He hadn’t bothered to check the caller ID, but would have picked up the phone in any case. “Mr. McMurtrie, it’s Christine Laird from CNN again. Is this a good time to talk?”

She barely gave Mac time to say “Of course,” before she was off at high speed. “Well, you were so knowledgeable about the mystery ship and its loss that I took up your suggestion. We had one of our Asian branches locate the Hanjin Malta and interview its captain. They’d just arrived in Karachi, and our stringer there was able to talk to both the captain and some of the crew who saw the explosion. They were all very eager to tell him about it. One of the crew, the lookout, said he thought the explosion was ‘whitish,’ at least at first. Then it became bigger and dark gray or black. And several people on the bridge claim they heard two explosions, one small, and then another much larger one.”

Mac remembered his earlier calculations. “Did any of them say how far their ship was from the explosion?”

“I think so.” She paused for a moment, then said, “A little over sixteen nautical miles, based on their navigator’s plot.” After another pause, she asked, “Why would there be two explosions, and what would make an explosion white?”

Mac answered almost immediately. “The answer to the first part is straightforward, Ms. Laird. I believe the mystery ship was carrying explosive cargo, possibly even munitions. That would explain why no nation has claimed it. The first blast detonated that cargo, resulting in the larger explosion. Ms. Laird, if you can find out who owned that vessel, or where it was going, that will be a real story.”

“Please, just Christine. That’s what we’re hoping to do. What about the ‘white explosion’? Could this be some sort of gas that was released from the ship, and then ignited?”

Mac frowned and shook his head, then remembered she couldn’t see his reaction. “Unlikely. To be visible at that distance, the column would have to be over a hundred feet high. I’ve never heard of a jet of flammable gas like that, and to be white…”

He paused for a moment. “What will throw a white column, not of gas but of water, a hundred feet or more in the air is an underwater explosion—a mine, or more likely a torpedo. There are dozens of photos of a torpedo exploding under a ship, creating a plume of white spray and vapor that high.”

“A torpedo?” She sounded incredulous. Mac was also surprised by the thought, but it did fit the data. “But what about it being a mine, an old one left over from World War Two?”

“An old, forgotten mine, broken free from its moorings and sitting in the path of the unlucky vessel?” Mac realized he was being dramatic, but it was a dramatic idea. And highly unlikely.

“There was fighting all through that area, Christine, and I’m no expert, but I don’t know of any minefields laid near that location, although it could always have drifted there from Heaven knows where.” He sighed. “But more to the point, there haven’t been any ships striking old mines in that part of the world for decades. Anything’s possible, but I believe a torpedo is the more likely culprit.”

“Adding a mystery sub to the mystery ship,” she answered. “Is there any other alternative?” She sounded desperate. “My choices are the unlikely and the incredible.”

“I’ll work on the question, at least to rule out the mine theory,” Mac offered. He decided he liked talking to Ms. Laird… Christine. He was willing to spend some time on it. This was more interesting than the article on steam plants. Well, a little more interesting.

“I’d be very grateful, Mr. McMurtrie. We’ll mention your blog in the feature.”

“Then it’s my turn to be grateful, and please, just call me Mac.”

“I’ll call again, Mac, before we run the piece.”

Mac answered, “I’ll look forward to it,” and hung up.

30 August 2016

0200 Local Time

USS North Dakota

Off Hainan Island, South China Sea

“CAPTAIN TO CONTROL!” The blare from the general announcing system violently wrenched Jerry from a deep sleep. Propelled out of his rack by the sudden spasm of every muscle in his body, he was still shaking as he jumped into his loafers. Throwing open his stateroom door, Jerry dashed for the control room not more than thirty feet away. Thigpen was right behind him, equally disheveled and groggy.

Bursting into the control room, Jerry was momentarily confused. Why isn’t control rigged for red? he wondered. As his brain dragged itself into a lucid state, he remembered, no periscopes on this boat. Electro-optics didn’t need to worry about becoming night-adapted.

“Sorry for the sudden wake-up call, Skipper,” apologized Lieutenant Commander Phil Sobecki, the ship’s engineer and third ranking officer. “But things just got really screwy.”

As the engineer spoke, he motioned for a young sailor to come forward. In his hands was a steaming cup of coffee. Still a little fuzzy, Jerry gratefully accepted the offering and nodded his thanks to the young man, who was maybe all of nineteen years old. Taking a sip, Jerry felt the world start to come into focus.

“Define screwy, Eng,” he said wearily.

“Sir, we just picked up four loud explosions. Two to the west and two to the southeast.”

Jerry’s head snapped up from the cup. He was amazed by the report. “Four explosions? They’re sure of this?” he asked while tilting his head toward the sonar techs.

“Without a doubt, Skipper.”

“Show me what you’ve got,” ordered Jerry.

“Yes, sir. Ollie, bring up the merged track data. Sonar, recall the audio on both events.”