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

“Conn, Sonar, transient from Sierra Five-Six. He is opening his outer doors. He is making preps to shoot!”

Knox grabbed the 21MC and ordered, “Go active on Sierra Five-Six, steered beam, max power. I want him to know we’re out here now!” Smith looked questioningly at Knox. “If he knows that we have the drop on him, maybe he’ll think twice before shooting. Otherwise, the Canberra is about to be a sitting duck. They won’t even know what hit them.”

Knox and Smith watched the active sonar display as over two hundred and fifty decibels of acoustic energy pierced the water, heading toward the Chinese submarine.

“Positive return on Sierra Five-Six, range three-two-hundred yards, bearing three-four-seven.”

Knox smiled. “I think he knows we’re in town. Let’s see if that makes him behave.”

“Target zig, Sierra Five-Six!” Sonar reported. “Target sped up and changed course. Transient from the contact. Launch transients! Torpedo in the water!”

“Snapshot Sierra Five-Six!” Knox ordered. “Launch two evasion devices. Wait ten seconds and launch two more.”

Smith looked at the fire control computer and sang out, “Solution ready!”

The weapons officer immediately followed with, “Weapon ready!”

Knox ordered, “Shoot on generated bearings! Right full rudder, ahead flank! Make your depth eight hundred feet.”

In rapid succession, the ADCAP torpedo had been flushed out of Number One torpedo tube. Then, the ship jumped ahead and angled downward into the depths. Maybe, just maybe, amid all the confusion, they could outrun or get outside the Chinese torpedo’s acquisition cone before it found and bore into them. All while Cheyenne’s own ADCAP torpedo kept the Chinese submarine equally busy trying to get away from it.

The sonar reports were a constant, pulsing litany, the voices remarkably calm, just like a thousand drills in the attack trainer.

“Own ship weapon running normal.”

“Incoming torpedo bears three-five-five, zero bearing rate!”

“Hold own ship’s weapon in active search!”

“Incoming torpedo still bears three-five-five, zero bearing rate. It blew through the evasion devices.”

“Own ship weapon shifted to high speed, in attack.”

“Incoming torpedo still bears three-five-five, zero bearing rate!”

“Incoming weapon shifting to close-in attack mode.”

Then a loud explosion shook the Cheyenne. That was followed a few seconds later by a second loud blast.

But Cheyenne was still there.

When the reverberations died down, Sonar reported, “Loss of own ship’s weapon, loss of incoming weapon.”

Smith looked at Knox as the captain wiped the sweat from his brow.

“He shot at us instead of the Canberra,” the skipper said. “But I think the ORCA ended up sacrificing itself for us. Thanks, little guy.”

“And the Chinese boat?” Smith asked, knowing the answer already.

Knox looked sideways at his XO, his face solemn.

“I don’t think that Sierra Five-Six and the submariners aboard the vessel were so lucky.”

Ψ

The Gulfstream jet—tail number Golf Three-Seven-Two—entered the final approach landing pattern for Taoyuan International Airport near Taipei, Taiwan. The plane was cleared for final approach on runway two-three left. At the last minute, though, Golf Three-Seven-Two veered off and landed instead at the little used Taoyuan Air Base field, less than a mile to the east of the sprawling international airport.

The private jet touched down gently and then braked enough to quickly turn off from the runway onto a weed-strewn taxiway, all its lights already extinguished. It pulled to a stop on a cracked macadam apron at the south end of the field.

Two people waited in the darkness, standing beside a black Toyota Land Cruiser at the edge of the apron. Two more black cars sat a hundred yards back, near the fence.

Li Min Zhou silently watched the plane all the way from its approach, through the landing, and until it came to a halt only a few yards away. Only then did she turn to TJ Dillon and speak.

“So, partner, we are in agreement. The CIA takes custody of our guest here and conducts the debriefings. But we share the intel equally.”

TJ Dillon watched as the plane’s doorway popped open and stairway dropped down.

“As usual, we are on the same page,” Dillon confirmed. “Yep, that’s the plan. And you and your people leak through your sources that he has defected and is cooperating with US Intelligence. That should keep him out of circulation for a very long time and irritate some folks mightily. So much for that famous Chinese obsession for saving face.”

Li laughed out loud. It was the first time Dillon had heard her laugh.

“Yes. It is a beautiful thing! And he will have every incentive to be very forthcoming for your interrogators, too.”

Yon Ba Deng stepped out onto the top step of the aircraft. He squinted into the darkness, obviously trying to figure out where in the world he had landed.

Dillon and Li looked at each other and smiled, imagining when the former high official learned he had arrived on the island of Taiwan.

Or, as the Taiwanese prefer, the Republic of China.

26

Oblivious to the nature of the battle that had just raged below it, making so much racket, or how close they had come to destruction, the Canberra charged right into the midst of the little fleet of Chinese and Tongan vessels. It slid to a halt less than a thousand yards astern of the Zhang Jian, pausing to take stock. The three Tongan patrol boats boldly sprang into action, urged on by their king, and commenced ominously circling the American warship, their forward-mounted machine guns manned and aimed directly at the newly arrived ship.

“American warship, this is Tongan Navy ship Ngahau.” The transmission popped up on channel sixteen on the marine band radio. “You are trespassing in Royal Tongan sovereign waters. In the name of King Tofuwanga the Second, I order you to depart immediately. Please acknowledge your compliance.”

Commander Louise Gadliano was the skipper of the Canberra. She suppressed a laugh as she glanced over at Marine Lieutenant Colonel Stanton Readly. He simply shook his head. The machine guns could do some damage, yes, but the outcome of a shootout between the patrol boats and the Canberra would not bode well for the Tongans and their king. This was precisely the