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

Only a few months ago, North Danger Reef had been a conglomeration of coral and rock, just barely emerging from the warm waters of the South China Sea. Marking a point at the northernmost end of the Spratly Islands, the reef had earned its name honestly, sending many an unsuspecting ship to its doom. These days, though, North Danger Reef appeared on the electronic charts under a new name. Dong Doa Island was the newest bit of Chinese-government-claimed sovereignty in these waters. Even if some of the islands hereabouts had barely enough dry “territory” to erect a flagpole and flag.

The Tarbox’s orders were to challenge that sovereignty claim. She was to steam boldly past the newly claimed real estate, conducting what were termed FONOPS—or Freedom of Navigation Operations—figuratively thumbing their noses at the Chinese government’s assertion of ownership.

But something else had changed besides the island’s name. A new airfield and missile launchers now fit on what had become a man-made spit of sand barely large enough to hold the improvements. China made no attempt to hide their purpose. They were meant to reinforce China’s claim that all of the South China Sea was within her territorial waters. And beyond that, the Middle Kingdom could and would deny any nation the right to traverse that water. Violently if need be.

Dong Doa Island was merely the newest in a chain of airfields and anchorages that the People’s Liberation Army Navy had constructed, ranging from the Spratlys in the south through the Parcels, and right on up to Hainan, the island province that marked China’s southernmost point. Lately, the PLAN had been making noises about extending their claims all the way to the Riau Archipelago. That would effectively close off the southern entrance to the South China Sea while the Chinese continued to rattle their swords about claims to the Dongsha Islands at the northern end, chillingly near Taiwan. PLAN warships had been spotted frequently circling both areas from a menacingly close distance. The Indonesians did not say very much about incursions into the Riaus, but the Taiwanese complained loudly to anyone who would listen every time the PLAN sailed too close to Dongsha.

The heightened tensions were only one of the reasons Commander Fritz was concerned about these FONOPS. The other was because his crew was every bit as new and untested as his ship. They had completed their work-up training and left Pearl Harbor only two weeks prior. A quick couple of days in Guam had relieved the tedium of a long ocean transit, but the crew was distracted, anticipating arriving in Singapore. It would be Tarbox’s first ever foreign liberty port. The tales that the couple of old salts aboard had been sharing about the delights to be found in the tropical city had everyone anxious to speed across the intervening distance. And that was exactly what they had been doing until just before sunrise.

That was when some desk jockey back in the Pentagon noticed that North Danger Reef was barely off the ship’s track. Maybe they should make a quick detour, knock, and say “Hi” to their Chinese friends in the area.

Commander Fritz barely had enough time to break out Seventh Fleet’s FONOPS instructions, scan them, and hold a hurried discussion with his XO and ops officer. None of them had any experience with FONOPS, but thankfully, it looked simple enough. All they had to do was veer slightly off their original course, steam through the disputed waters with their flag flying, then resume the trek toward shore leave. Should they be challenged, they were to respond that they were peacefully exercising their right to pass through these waters under international law. And then, of course, they would have to write a report detailing their transit of the disputed area and everything that transpired. All sounded simple and easy. Besides, how many other ships had conducted FONOPS without serious incident?

“Captain.” The officer of the deck stuck his head out to the pilothouse. “We are being challenged on the bridge-to-bridge circuit, channel sixteen.”

Fritz frowned as he stepped inside the pilothouse so that he could hear the radio speaker.

“American warship, this is Dong Doa Control. You have entered restricted waters. You will secure all electronic emissions and leave Chinese waters immediately.” The voice was harsh and seemed to brook no discussion.

Fritz snorted as he grabbed the microphone. “This is the USS Tarbox. Please be advised that we are engaged in freedom of navigation of these waters as is our right under international law. We do not recognize Chinese claims that these are territorial waters.”

“Tarbox, I repeat, you will immediately secure all electronic emissions and change course to leave our waters or you will be engaged.” Immediately after the voice stopped, static burst from the speaker.

“Captain, Combat,” the tactical action officer reported over the tactical circuit. “We are being jammed on all frequencies. All radars are down. I think we detected an aircraft launch just before we lost the SPY-6. The X-band precision tracking radar locked on for just a second.”

“Locked onto what?” Fritz asked. The X-band was an anti-air fire control radar programmed to automatically lock onto threat profile airborne targets. It had detected something that fit a threat profile. If the system was in automatic mode, anti-air missiles would already be outbound. But this was peace time. The Chinese may fly something close by, but it was all for show.

Right on cue, a Shenyang J-16 strike fighter came in low and fast. Fritz shook his head. Obviously, these guys had ratcheted up their show of force a notch or two.

But then, the first burst of fire from the aircraft’s GSh-30-1 thirty-millimeter cannon tore through the frigate’s bridge and shredded the comms masts. A YJ-12 anti-ship missile impacted, penetrating deep into Tarbox’s interior before detonating in the vessel’s CIC just seconds after the fighter roared directly overhead.

In fifteen seconds, the proud warship was reduced to a burning,