Larry Bond: Shattered Trident

“Dr. Komamura, how did you first contact the Japanese Maritime Defense Force?”

“They contacted me,” Komamura answered. “After Navies was published, I gave lectures at several naval bases and the academy at Etajima. After a lecture at Yokosuka, I participated in a long discussion on naval developments with a small group of officers. Admiral Kubo himself joined the group for a short while. Afterwards, I was approached by one of his aides.”

Hieu looked at the other two admirals, who both nodded firmly. He turned back to Komamura. “The original purpose of this meeting was to discuss the concept of an alliance of South and East China Sea littoral nations, an idea you have championed and your Admiral Kubo Noriaki fully supports. Unfortunately, circumstances have changed.”

Komamura looked confused and uncertain. “In what way?”

Admiral Hieu spoke quickly. “Professor, the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, with the full approval of the Politburo and the Defense Council, agrees in principle with your ‘littoral alliance.’ We are ready to work out the details of the collaboration immediately. Every country in the region is threatened by Chinese aggression. Even working together, it will be difficult for us to stop that aggression. Individually, we don’t stand a chance.”

The academic was pleased and excited, but puzzled. “But this is wonderful news! I will convey your answer to Admiral Kubo as soon as I return to Japan. But what else has changed?”

“China’s plans,” Hieu explained, “and our infant alliance faces an immediate challenge.” He turned to the translator. “Ask Commander Ty to join us.”

Commander Ty was in his early thirties, and still had all his hair. While he quickly set up a laptop, the translator hurried over and sat next to Komamura, whispering to the professor as Ty began his brief.

“Good morning, Dr. Komamura, I am Cao Van Ty. I am assigned to the Second General Department, our intelligence branch.” Ty bowed toward the academic, then Admiral Duan, his superior. “I will be presenting highly sensitive information about an imminent Chinese threat which affects both our countries. Professor, can we have your promise that you will not share what you learn today with anyone else, unless we give you permission to do so?”

“Of course,” Komamura replied quickly. Curiosity filled him, but also foreboding. What was going on?

Ty pressed a key and a flat screen at one end of the conference room came alive with a map of the South China Sea. The Vietnamese coast lined the left edge, while Hainan Island was in the center. The Leizhou Peninsula reached out from China’s southern coast toward Hainan. The mainland coast angled northeast from the peninsula until it disappeared at the upper right corner.

Ty stood next to the screen. “I’m sure you’re aware of Liaoning ’s exercises last week.”

“Their new carrier?” Komamura answered. “Yes. It was even covered by the mainstream media. Inaccurately, but at least they noticed.”

Ty continued. “ Liaoning is now back at her homeport in Yalong Bay. Her captain reports that several minor mechanical issues need to be corrected. He is also loading fuel, ordnance, and the rest of Liaoning ’s air group. This will consist of ten J-15 fighters, six Ka-28 sub-hunting helicopters, and four Z-8 radar helicopters. He reports they will be ready to sail in five days.

“When she does sail, she will be escorted by the same six warships that took part in the exercise, three destroyers and three frigates, all armed with advanced guided missiles. The task group will rendezvous with two amphibious ships of the Type 071 class, then proceed to Guangzhou.” A line appeared on the chart, starting at the southern tip of Hainan Island, heading north to the naval base at Zhanjiang, where the Leizhou Peninsula joined the Chinese mainland, then north again to the Guangzhou shipyard near Hong Kong.

“We have photos of a platform being built at Guangzhou.” The screen changed to show pictures of a very large, flat structure, spotted with different colors of primer and gray paint. Open girder framework showed in many places. The images were overlaid with circles and labeled in Vietnamese. “The shipyard there builds many offshore oil platforms, but this structure is larger, and has a different configuration. But more importantly, it is armed.

“The circles mark the location of protective fiberglass domes, most likely covering point defense weapons.” He pointed to one corner of the structure that did not have a dome. “The foundation here is consistent with the Chinese HHQ-10 point defense missile system. These large fiberglass structures near the front are shelters for sensor and communications antennas.”

Ty pressed a control and the map returned. A bright line led south from Guangzhou deep into the South China Sea. “The Liaoning task group will escort the platform, under tow and accompanied by several self-loading container ships, to Thi Tu Island.” Ty used the Vietnamese name for the island. The Chinese claimed it as “Zhongye Island,” but the current occupiers, the Philippines, called it “Thitu Island.” Thitu was the largest island in the Spratly archipelago, and even sported an airstrip. “The transit will take five or six days, depending on the weather.

“When they are close, marines from one of the amphibious assault ships will seize the island, currently held by about forty Filipino soldiers, and the platform will be anchored at one end of the island. Prefabricated containers carried by the merchants will be placed on landing craft and taken ashore, creating barracks, repair shops, hangars for fighters, and other facilities.

“Our engineers estimate it will take three days to anchor the structure. Within twenty-four hours after that, the Chinese will have a base defended by an integrated air-defense system, capable of operating a squadron of high-performance fighters and garrisoned by a battalion of marines.”

Komamura was chilled to the bone. The Chinese had long claimed the entire South China Sea, ignoring other nations’ borders, but that was only words. A strong military base would let them enforce that claim. Not one of the nations surrounding the South China Sea had the firepower to dislodge such a foothold. The Americans could, but he was convinced they wouldn’t risk open war with China, not over a collection of small, disputed islands. Even if the United States wanted to fight, they were unprepared. He was sure the Chinese, with the strategic initiative, would be ready to counter just such a move.

“But one small island with forty soldiers doesn’t require two Kunlun Shan landing ships to capture it.” Ty put an image of the ship on the screen. It was a large, modern-looking design. “Each Type 071 landing ship dock carries up to eight hundred marines and eighteen armored vehicles. Simultaneous with the attack on Thi Tu, the Chinese will also invade Song Tu Tay Island, also known as Southwest Cay, and Northeast Cay approximately forty-four kilometers to the north. The first island is Vietnamese sovereign territory, the second is Filipino,” concluded Ty.

The Japanese academic fought to hide his shock and surprise.

“There’s more,” Ty said firmly. “Soon after China occupies key islands in the Spratly chain, they intend to invade the Senkaku Islands claimed by your country.”

Komamura was stunned. To seize so many of the disputed islands and reefs in rapid succession was mind-boggling. The Chinese intentions, if true, were beyond bold. One question surfaced in his mind immediately.

“This information is very detailed. I’m not an intelligence specialist, but I’ve learned that naval intelligence is usually guesswork and deduction. How sure are you of this information?”