SSN - Tom Clancy [58]
The American captain wouid pay dearly for attacking the convoy.
On board Cheyenne, plans for the attack were being made.
"Be seated, gentlemen." Captain Mackey waved his officers to sit down on the wardroom chairs and bench seat. "Here's the situation. A Chinese merchant convoy under close escort is headed toward the Spratly Islands with supplies, troops, and a repair ship. As we've already found out, the UN total exclusion zone doesn't mean anything to them. Our job is to intercept the convoy and prevent it from reaching the Spratlys by any means necessary."
Mack paused to let that information sink in. "Okay. The operations officer will let you know what we're up against."
Mack leaned back in his chair and watched his officers as he listened to the briefing. Mack smiled to himself. They were ready. Their last foray had been a crucible to harden them into battle-tested veterans.
As Mack assessed his officers, the operations officer went on with his report. "The convoy itself is comprised of four military troop transports, one ARS-type repair ship, four merchant container ships, and one merchant tanker. The convoy escort is made up of two Luda class destroyers, four Jianghu class frigates, and one Luhu class destroyer carrying two ASW helos. The convoy should be able to make thirteen knots, but our satellites are tracking it at only ten. We should be able to be in position just after they pass the exclusion zone at dusk in two days. Looks like they want to make the run in darkness to avoid detection for as long as possible."
Captain Mackey sat upright in his chair after the operations officer sat down. "Thanks, ops. Any questions?"
There weren't any, so Mack allowed the meeting to break up. "Okay," he said. "You all know what to do. We're under way at 0600. We'll station the maneuvering watch at 0500. Dismissed."
The executive officer crossed over to the coffeepot, poured two cups, and slowly added sugar to both. "So how do you intend to play this, Captain?"
Mack leaned forward, interlocking his fingers beneath his chin. "I'm not sure on this one," he said. "It's a different ballgame going after a convoy. There's no one primary target to focus on, planning how to attack it and avoid getting caught. Instead, we're going to have to make an attack, break off to reload as necessary, and then get back into position to re-attack. And keep on doing it until all the ships in the convoy are sunk or turn around."
"Too bad we don't have a deck gun like the old boats." The executive officer sipped his coffee as he set the other cup in front of Mack. "But at least we've got range with both weapons and sensors against these guys. And we're faster, so getting back into position should be fairly easy. It shouldn't be any problem as long as we don't get too cocky." He looked down at the captain's untouched coffee. "But you're still not comfortable with it. What's wrong?"
"The escort squadron commander is what's wrong," Mack said.
The executive officer looked up at his captain, "Why does he bother you?"
Mack paused as the messenger of the watch entered the wardroom and, standing at attention in front of his captain, reported professionally, "Captain, the officer of the deck sends his respects and reports the hour of 2000." He then handed the 2000 report sheet to the captain.
When Mack had acknowledged the report, the messenger of the watch left the wardroom as quietly as he had entered.
When the messenger had departed, leaving the two of them alone once again, Mack straightened, took a long drink of coffee, and carefully set the cup back down. Getting to his feet, he moved toward the wardroom door and then paused with his hand on