Attack of the Seawolf

“Sticks the periscope up, sir. All the antennae are in the periscope.”

“Couldn’t it be seen?”

“We stay away from traffic and watch the length of time the scope’s up, sir. Generally it’s not a problem.

We do this a lot, sir.”

“What about radar? Wouldn’t a radar see a periscope?”

Donchez was impressed. Not many laymen could come up with that question.

“Sir, ninety-five percent of all radars are trying to find surface ships or aircraft or missiles. A periscope is usually too small. Any return from a periscope would look like a return from a wave. Besides, the new type-20 periscope is packed with RAM, radar absorptive material, the same stuff in the Stealth bombers and fighters. It’s practically invisible.” Unless the Chinese were operating orthogonal-polarization radars, Donchez thought, radars built to find periscopes.

They usually found them quickly, too, but certainly that technology wasn’t in Chinese hands … “Well, then,” Dawson said, “it sounds like a no brainer We need intelligence, and our allies and spies and satellites aren’t getting it. Time to send in the submarine. All right, let’s do it.”

“Sir,” Donchez said, realizing Dawson had never done this before, “you realize you have to sign the Penetration Order.”

“Penetration Order?”

“Yes sir, the authorization for a submarine commander to penetrate the twelve-nautical-mile territorial limit of another sovereign nation. It’s a violation of international law, sir. You’re the only one authorized to order it.”

“I thought you said you do this all the time.”

“We do, sir,” Donchez said.

“And the President always signs the order to penetrate.”

Donchez watched Eve Trachea. If she didn’t object, the mission would soon be underway.

“We can’t,” she said, “violate territorial limits or international law. Admiral. The CIA does this, but now you want to send a shipload of American soldiers into a bathtub outside Beijing and spy on a civil war.

If your people get caught it would ruin our integrity internationally. Not to mention what might happen to them. Mr. President,” she said, turning to Dawson, “the State Department opposes this idea. And so I do. I know you’re concerned about a so-called tilting toward the Communists, but reestablishing diplomatic relations with Beijing would at least get this country back into reality.”

“Bobby?” Dawson said, his face a mask.

“We’ve tried everything,” Kent said.

“All we’ve done is get our agents killed. I don’t recommend continuing that. I also urge you to allow us to do what we can to gather crucial intelligence. We can’t have surprises coming out of China. This situation is dangerous.”

He looked at Trachea.

“Let me spell out a scenario … Japan is financing the Kuomintang so the Communists decide to dry up the river of yen by launching an air strike on Tokyo. The financial center of Japan is gutted, the computers and banks are destroyed, and because of the connectivity of world markets, the world stock markets plunge overnight.

Meanwhile the Communists plow through the White Army, plunging Asia into totalitarian darkness and beginning a new cold war that will make the last one look tame. It would be the worst of 1929 and 1939 all in a day.”

Evidently the President was impressed, holding up a palm to hold back Kent.

“Okay, Bobby, okay, I understand the need for intelligence, but let me ask the admiral — can’t the sub just stay outside the twelve-mile territorial limit?”

Donchez shook his head.

“No, Mr. President. Navigation in a tactical situation like that is difficult enough without having to worry about stepping over an arbitrary line twelve miles from the beach. You would take away maneuvering room should surface traffic come by. And twelve miles further out means fewer intercepted communications. Besides, the submarine is still inside their goddamned bay and besides, the Chinese claim the whole bay as their territorial waters anyway. If they detect us, it won’t matter if we’re one mile out or fifty — we’re still spying in a Chinese lake. Sir, it’s a risk, but the risk of no intelligence seems worse. It’s your decision, but not one of your predecessors had any trouble signing penetration orders.”

Clearly, Dawson was not happy with the decision.

For several moments he sat there, staring at the screen. Finally he spoke.

“Admiral Donchez, send a submarine into the Go Hai Bay. Have the order to penetrate on my desk within the hour. I’ll sign it.”

Steuber and Donchez stood at the base of the large east China chart in the Pentagon, the map towering almost twenty-five feet over their heads. The chart showed the East China Sea, north to the Yellow Sea and on to the Go Hai Bay. To the east the island of Japan had a blue dot flashing into the Pacific, three hundred miles south and east of Tokyo. The blue dot was labeled USS TAMPA SSN-774 SUBMERGED OPERATIONS.

Steuber pointed to the flashing blue dot.