Warshot (The Hunter Killer Series Book 6) by Don Keith (dark books to read TXT) 📕

crew, too. Something tells me we have steamed right square into the middle of a massive shit storm.”

“You may have gotten a good crack on the noggin, Skipper,” Foster told him, “but your navigation instincts are impeccable.”

16

Soo Be Xian was absolutely ecstatic. Finally, here was the chance to put his over-reaching rival, Yon Ba Deng, and his upstart submariner brother in their proper place. That would preferably be a place of disgrace, far from the corridors of power. Apparently, the Assistant Vice Deputy to the Minister of National Defense for Naval Matters had lost control of his own navy. And certainly, his brother’s submarine force. How else to explain a pair of rogue submarines trying to start a war with Taiwan? And possibly, by extension, with the rest of the world.

Soo Be Xian rubbed his chin as he relished the situation. Yes, it was unfortunate that his country would be seen as the aggressor against Taiwan over such a bit of worthless flotsam, a little coral atoll of no real value. Still, assuming it did not kick off another world war, was there something he could personally gain from this situation? Maybe a way to remove Yon Ba Deng from the Party position that the blowhard so liked to flaunt. Perhaps he could even wrangle himself a path to reach a Party position?

But, how to proceed? What should his strategy be? Soo Be Xian doodled on a scrap of paper as he pondered the possibilities. There were two possible approaches in which to deal with the current ugly situation.

They could always order a hasty retreat, abandoning the Jiaolong Assault Team special operators still fighting against superior forces on the atoll. After the media had moved on to their next click-bait and ratings, tensions would quickly de-escalate. Yes, there would be a significant loss of face, not to mention the loss of some good and loyal soldiers, but that would be fleeting. Soon, those who complained the loudest—with the exception of the pretenders in Taiwan itself—would be coming around again, wanting to complete trade deals, accept investment capital, and bask in the glow of China’s growth and prosperity. But, at least in the interim, China would be seen as a paper tiger, cowed by a tiny break-away part of the homeland.

The other option was far more visceral and much more likely to save face. They could decide to be the big tiger in the jungle. Shove aside the Taiwanese and, after all these years of threats and bluster, take back at least this small island that was rightfully Chinese territory in the first place. If Taiwan—or anyone else—still believed that such a clump of coral was worth an all-out war, then so be it. China was ready and had plenty of cannon fodder to use to make its claim stick.

Plus—and it was a big plus—the PLAN could still claim, and with considerable evidence, that a Taiwanese warship had brutally attacked Chinese vessels conducting basic operations in territorial waters. Taiwan started it. China was merely protecting the assets and brave patriots of its navy, ambushed for no apparent reason.

“Bien Sung!” Soo Be Xian suddenly yelled.

His general factotum peeked through the narrowly opened door.

“You called, Minister?”

“Yes. Yes, I did. I want you to contact the Party Secretary’s staff at once. It is time for the Politburo to discuss the Dongsha matter. Then get Colonel General Xiang on a secure video call. We have some actions that must be set in motion. And we must do it quickly.”

Ψ

Yon Ba Deng furiously massaged his temples, as if that might make his crushing headache disappear. He struggled to remain calm. Equilibrium was the key. He must maintain a level balance if he was to avoid allowing anger and frustration to replace clear thinking. As the ancient master Laozi taught, he would have to get back in harmony with the tao, with “the way.”

Yon Ba Deng sat upright and forced a calm smile. The Tianshi, the Celestial Masters, pointed the way to the wu wei, a state of perfect knowledge, of perfect efficaciousness, of perfect economy of energy. Now, more than ever before, he needed to center his thoughts and find the way.

As his breathing stabilized, Yon Ba Deng idly caressed his ancient copy of the Taishang Ganying Pian—Treatise on the Response of the Tao—drawing calming comfort from the yellowing xuan paper with its faintly musty smell and smooth rice-paper texture.

But then the high-level Communist Party functionary lost control of his emotions once again when he glanced at the message on his computer screen. His quest for calm was immediately shattered. Yesterday it had been that pompous, fat pig of a monarch, King Tofuwanga, trying his very best to start a shooting war in the South Pacific, and just to grab all the gold long before Yon Ba Deng was ready to claim it and parse it out properly.

Now, though, new details on the screen sent his blood pressure soaring. A couple of submarine captains, sent on a simple diversionary mission, instructed to shoot up some out-of-the-way Taiwanese guard compound, had decided, apparently on their own, to launch an invasion. To make matters far worse, for some reason, they had attacked and sunk a Taiwanese destroyer in the process. The intelligence report said that heavy fighting continued on the little island. And now, the Taiwanese Air Force was flying combat sorties over it. And the worst of it? It was all over CNN and Times International.

Stubborn submarine captains often acted independently. But once these two were back in port, Yon Ba Deng would meet them at the dock to personally end their careers and their freedom.

“Excuse me, elder brother,” Bing Dou said as he stuck his head through the door. “South Sea Fleet Headquarters now reports that both of the submarines involved in the Dongsha Island affair have missed their second communications cycle. They are presuming that both submarines are lost. Likely at the hand of the destroyer before it was sunk. Searches are being launched.”

Yon