Philippine Sea, USS Kidd (DDG 100)

Commander Neil Harris watched the sea from the starboard wing of his command, the USS Kidd. An Arleigh Burke class destroyer, the Kidd was the biggest and best ship Harris had ever commanded. In a moment of honesty, he admitted it was probably the largest ship he would ever command. Ten years a commander, there just wasn’t enough room on the list for him to go up much farther. He had hopes for the Zumwalt and her sisters but now it looked like there would only be three of the new DDG-1000 class of ships put into service. At 50, he was getting old for a sea command anyway.

He heard the hatch to the bridge open and felt rather than saw Lieutenant Commander Thomas, his executive officer, come out onto the bridge wing. “Bitch of a day, ain’t it, skipper?”

Harris looked at the glorious Pacific all around him. A nice “topgallant” breeze was blowing, as his grandfather would have said. Five to six-foot swells were white capping and the ship had a lively movement at a steady twenty knots. Not another ship was in sight. Not unusual at all, but in this case, Kidd was really on her own, with no friendly ships even on radar , which was unusual. It seemed they had the entire Pacific to themselves. No, it wasn’t the worst office in the world. “Could be worse Butch. Could be worse.”

“I saw you brooding out here skipper. Don’t worry, you’ll get your stripe soon enough.” Thomas knew very well the ambitions of his captain and how much he wanted a larger command and the elusive fourth stripe of a captain. In the Navy, every ship had a Captain, but Captain was also a rank (O-6 in the impersonal DOD system). Confusing for civilians but totally understandable if you were in the Navy long enough.

Harris chuckled wryly. Thomas was a great XO but a tad too perceptive of his Captain’s moods. Sometimes a good XO should be blind to his Captain’s foibles. “Now Butch, why would I be brooding? With all the carriers up for refit, we have half the whole damn Pacific for ourselves. Day after tomorrow, we get to shoot a satellite for the NMD boys. That old RORSAT has it coming, I tell ya.”

Thomas chuckled at his superior’s attempt at humor. He agreed that shooting a missile was good fun, but getting the captain out of his funk was the best part of the small jest and that made him grin. The Burkes had morphed from a generic support platform into one of the most capable and versatile missile platforms in the US Navy. For some reason, taking out a satellite just didn’t seem like proper Navy work, but orders were orders. As he was about to bring up his planned proficiency drill plan, he noticed consternation on the bridge. A master chief leaned out and proved that leather lungs were still a master chief’s best friend. “Captain, you’re wanted in CIC, SIR!”

Harris acknowledged the summons with a wave and walked back onto the bridge and back down to CIC. He flagged down Lt. Mitchel who had the watch. “What is it Sparks?”

The Lieutenant looked more stressed that the Captain expected. “Distress call sir, ROC navy. One of their frigates, I believe. The Pan Chao.”

That got Harris’ attention quickly. “Put it on the speaker.”

The radio call was on 156.8 Mhz which is a short-range marine radio distress channel. The ship must be close. Harris thought. “..urgent. Repeat, this is the ROCS Pan Chao. We urgently require assistance. Any ships in the area able to assist, reply this channel.”

Harris turned to the Master Chief watching over the Petty Officers manning the detection and location stations. “Master Chief, you got a bead on them? Couldn’t be far away.”

The Chief had been expecting this request. “Yes, sir. Bearing one four five at a range of three three nautical miles, course two seven two, speed one one knots, designated Romeo one six. It’s the Pan Chao all right.”

Harris leaned out into the hallway and called out to his XO, still on the bridge. “Flank Speed, Butch! Course, 145 degrees!” The order was quickly relayed, and he could feel his ship crank on the power. The Kidd was no slouch and could do well over 30 knots when pressed. This was one of those times to put the spurs to her and he could feel the ship responding like a living thing. “Get the Pan Chao on the horn and let them know we’re inbound.” Walking back onto the bridge, he spoke at a more normal tone. “Set condition three throughout the ship. And let’s get the helos spun up. May be able to help out.”

Thomas gave him a surprised look. Condition three manned the weapons stations and wasn’t a normal peacetime posture. “Aye aye, sir.”

Harris patted him on the shoulder. “Humor the old man Butch. Besides, it’s good practice. Who knows, we may need to shoot at someone besides ill-tempered satellites someday.”

Thomas nodded and repeated, “aye aye, sir.” As the announcement rang out, the crew burst into a frenzy of activity as they moved to their correct stations. The Kidd wasn’t huge by Navy standards but she had over 200 crew and plenty of stations to man and over a hundred water-tight doors that needed to be dogged shut. A full minute passed before the activity settled down.

“Captain, CIC.” A senior rating held out an old fashioned looking but very expensive phone handset.

Harris stepped over and took the phone from the senior rating at the comms station. “Go for Captain.”

“Captain, we have unidentified aircraft and several surface vessels to the southeast. Not responding to IFF or guard frequency.”

“Understood. What friendly assets do we have close by?” Harris was getting an itchy feeling. All of the Chinese military action in the area made everyone nervous but there was no reason for him to expect trouble. On the other hand, it was better to expect trouble and be wrong than to expect no trouble and get caught with your pants down.

“I have a P-8 out of Atsugi about 500 miles away. We also have a couple of Aussie frigates down around Luzon but I estimate they are 8 to 10 hours away. We had a buoy ping from the Charlotte a few hours ago and I estimate she is no more than 60 minutes if we can ELF her.”

“Let’s get the P-8 over here pronto.” He hesitated before deciding to call the submarine. While the Navy was one big happy family officially, it was embarrassing when a surface combatant had to call home to ComSubPac to get one of the bubbleheads to help out a true bluewater sailor. However, his orders had been very specific. Assume Chinese incursions would continue. Hunt in packs, call for help. That last sentence stood out in his memory. This was one of those cases. “Alright, get fleet on the horn, ask them to ELF the Charlotte for us. Let me know when she pops up. Have an action order ready for her with our current status and a tasking to investigate.”

He couldn’t really square his itchy feeling even inside his own head. The distress call could be something benign like engine failure or a fuel leak. However, he had never heard of a ROC ship calling for help before like this. They were a small but proud service. If it was a normal problem, they’d just call up a buddy to help them out. Officially, the United States didn’t even recognize the ROC as a separate country from the rest of China. Unofficially, they were the “good guys” and the PRC were the “bad guys.” Life wasn’t really that simple, but Navy officers are human and they tend to want to have good guys and bad guys. Right now, mainland China was the bad guy. “CIC, Captain. Inform Fleet we intend to offer assistance. Request air support from Okinawa, if possible.”

Harris walked back to CIC to see the larger picture, carefully re-dogging each hatch behind him. He preferred to be on the bridge, but his proper place was here in CIC where he could see what was happening beyond his visual horizon. It was the XO’s job to run the ship while he managed the battle, if there was one. The sailing watch on the bridge would drive the ship where she had to go, the decisions would be made in CIC. “What do we have, Butch?”

Thomas had been huddled with the specialists while Harris got the response going. “Sir, I believe that the Pan Chao is being harassed by at least three unknown vessels. It looks like she is currently steaming towards us at a reduced speed, about 10 knots. Unknown what her condition is, we have been unable to raise her. The air activities look like at least two helos, perhaps three. We haven’t monitored anything that looks like a missile launch, but based on her current speed, she is damaged or having mechanical difficulties. Based on proximity, course, and speed, she seems to be trying to avoid the three unknown vessels. Best guess, the Chinese are at it again.” While both the ROC and the PRC are both technically Chinese, the term “Chinese” only meant the communist People’s Republic of China to the US Navy.

The communications tech stiffened. “Sir, another radio source. Direction finder points to the lead vessel following the ROC ship. They are ordering the Pan Chao to heave to for a safety inspection.”

Harris was not surprised. The Chinese had been getting more belligerent by the day. Even though they were in international waters, they considered this Chinese territorial waters. To make it worse from the US perspective, they considered the ROC a breakaway republic and any issues with the ROC to be strictly an internal matter. “Well shit.” While the rest of the CIC pretended not to hear the captain swear, they all agreed with the sentiment.

Under international law, the Chinese had no basis for boarding a ROC vessel. However, the USA also had no legal right to interfere. Now that the ROC vessel had called for help, they could “provide aid” but that meant helping them in case of mechanical failure or storm damage. If it came to open hostilities, there was no way Harris was going to start WWIII over a stranded ROC navy ship. It sucked, but it was as simple as that.

“Captain, we have the P-8. She is inbound. What should I tell her?” Navy tradition died hard. Even in the now integrated Navy, anything that moved from ships to planes were liable to be labeled feminine by a sailor.

“Let’s get a look-see. I’d like some overhead.” The ability to view sensors from remote platforms while at sea was still new enough that Harris relished the capability. The P-8 was relatively new but had already proved its worth over the tested but ancient P-3 Orions which they had recently replaced. Kidd’s CIC was roomy by Naval standards, but the room was crowded with consoles and operators. Harris had to exert Captain’s privilege to get a good viewing spot as the P-8 imagery started coming online. The converted 737 was very stable and had state of the art optics. The picture was a tad grainy from the compression and the long-range between the aircraft and the ships, but the scene was clear. Three PLAN frigates, probably Type 54A’s, were forming a loose arc, advancing on the Pan Chao. While the Pan Chao was significantly larger, she was obviously in trouble. Black smoke was streaming from her aft section and she was sailing at significantly less than her full speed. There was no damage visible to the Pan Chao, but something was clearly wrong.

“Sir! The Chinese are warning us off. Warning us this is their territorial waters.”

“Inform the Chinese ship that we are in international waters responding to a distress call. We will proceed and offer aid if requested.” Harris wasn’t impressed with the warning. SOP for the Chinese was to order US ships around. The Navy regularly ignored them. On the screen, things were getting worse for the ROC ship. The fire was getting worse, judging by the smoke, and their forward speed had dropped to zero. Either their engines had failed, or they had decided to shut down and focus on fighting the fire. Harris checked the plot. Still ten minutes from visual range. Not that he could really do anything but perhaps the presence of a US warship would deter the Chinese. They may not know about the P-8 but everyone knows what a US destroyer looks like.

“Sir! Response from Fleet.”

Harris knew what was coming, but he had to make it official. “Let me have it, son.”

“Fleet to Alpha November, Actual. Standard ROE applies. Do not provoke the Chinese. Defend your command at your discretion. Fleet ends.”

Thomas pulled his captain aside with an urgent whisper. “Skipper, we don’t have a dog in this fight. Zero upside for us here.”

Harris sighed. “I know Butch. I hear you. I just want the Chinese to know we’re watching. We can’t engage and they know that. It just kills me to stand aside and watch them push the ROC around.” The XO gave him a look that bordered on mutinous. “Not to worry Butch. Not going off the reservation. Just going over to the border and have a little look-see.”

There was only one answer the XO could give. “Aye aye, sir.”

“Weps, distance to the Pan Chao?”

“Twenty miles, sir. Closing fast.”

“OK. Let’s announce our presence. Light ‘em up.”

The response was immediate: “aye aye sir.” The Kidd had a hugely powerful radar. Or rather, she had a suite of radars to choose from. While she normally ran a navigation radar similar to civilian ships, her powerful search radar could not be mistaken for any civilian. In many combat situations, this was a problem because it gave away her position like a searchlight for anyone who cared to look. In this case, it was a way to announce their presence and ensure they would be noticed. “Tracking data coming in. I have hard paint on all four vessels and the P-8. Designating Tango one through three. Fire control radar has a target lock on the tangos.”

“Very well. IFF, I want the P-8 and the Pan Chao locked as friendly.”

“Aye, sir. Locked. System is registering them as blue force.” When on full automatic mode, an Aegis-equipped destroyer could put out a ton of firepower. It was good practice to ensure the system was correctly registering friendly and allied forces. While the ROC was not exactly an ally, it was close enough for Harris. Unfortunately, the Kidd and her sisters were designed to hunt in packs. As a group, they could protect an entire carrier strike group against surface and air threats, up to and including nuclear missiles lobbed from thousands of miles away. Throw in a cruiser or two and they could take on most air forces without any help from a carrier air wing. This type of ship to ship action was not her forte. Once again, Harris wished he commanded a Cruiser or one of the new Zumwalts. DDG-1000 could handle half a dozen smaller surface combatants at once and had the magazine depth to slug it out. Kidd did not. Zumwalt, unlike Kidd and her sisters, was designed for surface action. The first real surface combatant designed since Korea. Assuming she ever got shells for her massive deck guns, but that was another story.

“XO, assuming these are type 54A’s, what kind of magazine depth are we talking about?”

Thomas got a vacant look as he recalled the briefing data. “32 cell VLS plus eight cruise missiles. We believe the VLS is AA only, not confirmed.”

Harris frowned. “Best case we are looking at 24 vampires, worst case a whole shit ton of ballistics.”

Thomas nodded. “That about sums it up. Best guess, it’s only the cruise missiles.”

“You want to bet your life and your crew on that?”

“No, sir.”

“Right. Assume the worst and hope for the best. How are we loaded for the VLS?”

Now Thomas needed to consult a screen. “Heavy on anti-air. We have 30 SM-6’s we can put into surface attack and the two harpoons. After that, we’re down to torps and ASROCs. Best case we have even magazine depth, worst case we are outgunned by a good margin. If they flush their magazines, they could overpower our missile defense. Especially if they can fire a coordinated time on target attack.” This was a real concern. The US surface fleet practiced extensively to ensure that they fought as a unit. A large number of missiles approaching from all angles all at once was incredibly hard to defend against. The theory was that the Chinese were not good at this and didn’t have the sensor integration to share time on target information. However, they were not dumb and everyone was sure they were working on such things. The question was, had they fielded such a system and would the system work? Nobody really knew the answer to that one. Harris didn’t want to be the dumb son of a bitch who found out the hard way.

“OK, XO, let’s get into a reasonable defensive position. Let’s slow down to 10 knots and turn our broadside to them. Keep our range at 20 miles so we have some sea room.” He turned back to the ratings to the rear of the room, “ASW, when we lose flow noise, give me a check for sub-surface contacts. Assume we won’t hear Charlotte even if she is close, but the Chinese could have brought some company. Those diesel boats are pretty quiet, so be alert.”

As the P-8 came closer, the images of the four vessels confronting each other were getting clearer. Sailors moving around on the Pan Chao were becoming visible. Along with a few small boats in the water. “Sir! We have small craft in the water. I believe that that the Chinese are trying to board the Pan Chao.”

Thomas rubbed his hand over his head, fuzzing his short cropped blond hair. “That tears it sir, if they board the ship, we cannot intervene.”

Harris nodded. “Concur XO. It’s on them now. Poor bastards.”

The rating monitoring the feed was watching the action closely. “Sir! The ROC is opening up with 50 cals. Looks like warning shots. Oh shit, they hit one of the boats! The Chinese are opening up from the frigates. This is going to get ugly, fast.”

The image on the screen was indeed turning ugly. Harris was sure that neither commander had intended to start a fight, but things got quickly out of hand when armed men were afraid of getting shot. They tended to shoot first despite their orders. No doubt there would be hell to pay on both sides later, but for now, it was a shit show.

“Comms, get me on the air. Let’s see if we can calm this down.” At the communications officer’s nod, he took the offered mic and took a calming breath. “Attention all vessels, this is the US Navy ship Kidd. Cease fire. I say again, cease fire. We are responding to a distress call in international waters.”

The response was immediate. “US Navy vessel. Do not approach. Do not approach or you will be fired upon. You are violating sovereign territory of the People’s Republic of China. I say again, veer off and do not approach.”

A rating manning the ASW console stiffened. “Sir, transients! I have transients bearing 145 degrees. Estimate range five zero. Sounds like a buoy launch. Confirmed, SLOT is transmitting… It’s the Charlotte sir!”

Another sailor chimed in. “Confirmed, the P-8 has it also. Squirting the bird now. We have a handshake. Sir! Heat bloom! Heat bloom! Chinese are launching! ASROC! They have fired a torp! They have fired on the Charlotte! Blade count coming up, Charlotte is going to flank. Hull popping! She is going deeper, getting countermeasures. Trying to clear datum before the missile detaches the torp. Thirty seconds to torp in the water!”

Harris was still holding the microphone. This could be World War Three right here. Dammit! “Chinese vessel! Cease fire! Cease fire!! You are firing on a US submarine! Cease fire immediately or we will take defensive action!” Turning back to the XO, he issued an order he had not thought he would ever issue for real. “Set condition one. Battle stations.”

Thomas hesitated for a fraction of a second while he processed what that order meant. Then training took over and he hit the red toggle that set general quarters. The klaxon for GQ was deafening. “General Quarters, General Quarters, man your battle stations!” The order repeated three times as the ship prepared for war.

Harris pulled his XO aside. “Butch, this is going downhill too fast. It will get bloody before we are done here. I will make a note in my log that all actions taken are at my discretion. Perhaps we can save your career.”

Thomas was aghast at what his captain was saying. He was basically offering to sacrifice his career in case things went wrong. Offering to take all the blame at the inevitable board of inquiry. “Skipper, let’s live through the day first. Worry about all that other crap later.”

Harris clapped his XO on the shoulder. “Good man, Butch. Love the loyalty but you’ve gotta learn to think long term if you want command. I do not like where this is going. The Charlotte is unlikely to survive an ASROC launch that close in.” He turned back to the room. “Weps, are we in range for the five inch?”

The weapons officer shook his head. “Range two zero, at limit of range. No guarantees where the shell goes. Get me within fifteen and I’ll give you some hits.”

“ASW, status?”

“No, hostile subsurface contacts sir. We are streaming the tail and the nixie. Prairie/Masker is running.”

“Very well, carry on.” Harris turned to the young weapons officer. “Weps, let’s fire up a tomahawk. I want a low pass over all three ships. We will not strike the ships. Repeat, we are not to strike any of the ships.”

Thomas leaned over to Harris and pitched his voice not to carry. “That’s a very expensive message you are sending.”

Harris nodded. “It’s either that or blast away with Harpoons. We only have two of those and I would rather not kill a whole ship full of Chinese sailors.”

“What happens if they hit the Charlotte?”

“Then we’re at war, the gloves come off. Right now, we have a single panicked shot. One is an accident. I’m willing to warn them but I won’t take first blood unless I’m sure they are serious. They cannot intend to start an engagement with us. Let’s give them a chance to stand down.” Turning back to the CIC staff. “Estimated time to impact on Charlotte?”

“Best guess two minutes, sir. The torp is in the water and trying to acquire. No lock yet. Charlotte has dropped her blade rate and I’ve lost lock on her.”

Everyone in CIC was silent as the VLS launched the tomahawk. A sub-sonic cruise missile, the tomahawk was actually a land attack missile originally designed to carry nuclear weapons. The ship attack version had been retired years ago, so this weapon had zero ability to attack the Chinese. The very expensive weapon was merely a message to them at this point. It was VERY good at flying low in a precise pattern, so a flyby like this was a piece of cake. “Missile overhead the frigate designated Tango One in one minute. Flying pattern over the three vessels from east to west at one hundred feet AGL.”

“Understood, carry on.”

“Sir, the torp is pinging. I think it has failed to acquire.” A pause as the cruise missile separated from the booster and started its flight pattern. “Tomahawk one overhead tango one in ten seconds. They see her, CIWS mounts are active. They are firing. Missed. Passing tango one. Tango two is firing. Hit. Tango two has taken out the missile.”

Harris was back on the radio. “Chinese vessels, that was a warning. Cease fire. I say again cease fire, or we will be forced to defend ourselves.”

“P-8 is registering a heat bloom! Confirmed! Tango one and two are firing!”

“VLS or cruise?”

“Cruise!! Rocket boosters firing. I have three, check, four vampires in the air. Repeat, four vampires. Raising to apogee. Inbound in one minute.”

Harris’ command was soft but carried clearly across the CIC. “Weapons free; anti-air.”

“Aye, aye sir. Weapons free; anti-air. I say again, we are weapons free anti-air only.”

At this point, the air battle was out of the hands of the crew members in CIC. The Aegis system was designed for exactly this task. Compared to protecting a carrier strike group against a Russian alpha strike, this was a walk in the park. Four missiles were potentially targeted by up to 30 Surface to Air Missiles. Not all would hit, but the outcome was not in doubt. These missiles would not reach the Kidd. The roaring of the VLS was almost anti-climactic. Of the eight anti-missile missiles fired from the VLS, three missed their targets. However, that still meant all the incoming missiles were destroyed before they entered the close in range of the CIWS or even the longer-legged SeaRAM short-range missile defense.

The real question was: what would happen if the Chinese decided to press harder and flush their magazines? That was something that Harris did not want to risk. Once they figured out that their incremental attacks were failing, they would shift to a more aggressive attack stance and Kidd would quickly be ‘Winchester’ on her VLS. When that happened, Kidd was in trouble. It looked like Charlotte would survive to avenge her, but this would be cold comfort to the families of the sailors on the Kidd. “Weapons tight.”

“Aye aye, sir. We are weapons tight.”

Harris wasn’t going to let his ship get overwhelmed by a Chinese attack. “I’m worried that they will flush their magazines and try to force us to go Winchester on the VLS. Let’s set a more aggressive posture. Weps, suggested engagement plan?”

Lieutenant Taims was young for a weapons officer, but very bright. Harris had taken a liking to him and pushed him hard over the last year to stand watch on his own. Now, he was managing his first real firefight. Time to find out if he would shine or crumble under the pressure. “Sir, Tango one has drifted a bit off station, she’s closer to us than the other three and outside their AA envelope. Suggest time on target attack from the bow, stern and starboard abeam. Lead the starboard missile by a few seconds to draw the CIWS mounts out of position.”

Harris glanced at the XO who nodded. “Concur. Plot it.”

“Laid in, sir.”

Harris allowed himself a lopsided grin. The young lieutenant had predicted his captain’s command and had the targeting already in the system, just in case. Good kid. “Prepare to shoot.”

Thomas interrupted quickly. “Sir, I concur with your assessment that our ROE has been met. Concur with your decision to shoot.”

“Thanks Butch. That was dumb, but I appreciate a noble gesture. Weps, engage at will.”

Taims flipped the cover off of the master arm switch again and moved from “safe” to “auto.” “Shooting now.”

The Harpoon mount to starboard launched the Harpoon with its integrated rocket booster. After a few seconds, that fell away and the harpoon became a cruise missile. Then the VLS roared again. This time with a staggered launch sequence. Time on target was a favored American tactic that allowed them to use their superior technical abilities to plan attacks that could potentially overwhelm an opponent by coming in from multiple angles. In this case, the Harpoon would be the “rabbit” to draw their attention to that broadside attack. Having already shown the Chinese a Tomahawk, they would hopefully fixate on that known threat vector of an anti-ship cruise missile. This was their favored attack also so they would be expecting it. In the meantime, two SM-6 missiles would attack from above the stern and bow. These were completely ballistic and much faster than the fairly elderly Harpoon. Until recently, the Navy hadn’t admitted that the SM-6 was a capable anti-ship missile so the Chinese might not be expecting an attack from this vector. Ideally, this would overwhelm their defense capabilities and allow one or more of the missiles to strike their targets. At these short engagement ranges, the missiles would have a short flight time.

“Missiles tracking true. Harpoon in the lead. Their CIWS mounts are active. Both mounts engaging the harpoon. SM-6’s inbound, two seconds to impact. They have taken out the Harpoon. CIWS mounts moving to engage the SM-6’s. Impact! We have multiple secondaries. That is a hard kill, sir.”

For the first time that day, Harris was unsure what to do. He had attempted to de-escalate, but the twin attacks on both his ship and the submarine were something he was not prepared to ignore. He had taken out one third of their strike capacity and now the odds were distinctly in his favor. Between the Kidd and the Charlotte, the Americans now had an overwhelming firepower advantage. Perhaps the Chinese would realize their mistake and call it a day. Taking out a Chinese ship was definitely going to cause an incident, but somehow, taking out the entire squadron seemed like more of a provocation. So, he hesitated.

Taims was focused on his weapons and was ready to fire again. “I have hard locks on the other two tangos. Permission to fire, sir?”

Harris put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t get your blood up son. We just killed a bunch of good men over there.” Taims looked down, abashed. “You did your job, nothing to be ashamed of. They fired first so they took their chances. Now we have the advantage, we can afford to control the pace of battle. Let’s give them a minute to think this one over.”

“Sir, blade count coming up on the PRC ships. Turning away from each other. I think they are setting up for an englobing attack. Perhaps torpedoes in surface attack.”

Harris locked eyes with his XO. “No going back if we take them out.”

Thomas nodded. “They’re enraged now. No backing down.” He looked down and shook his head. “I wouldn’t.”

“Sir, I have the Charlotte on the gertrude. Captain Loweson for you.”

Harris raised his eyebrows in surprise and took the proffered handset. “Billy, it’s Neil Harris. You OK down there?”

The voice on the other side was distorted by the getrude, but recognizably Captain William Loweson. “Yeah, we’re good. Nearly shit my pants when that ASROC launched on us but Timmy called the ball in a hurry. Thank God we were streaming from the P-8. Saw the heat bloom as soon as they fired. What’s your situation topside?”

“We took down one frigate. Ready to take down the other two. Hoping they get smart and bug out but it looks like they’re maneuvering for a torp attack.”

“Yeah, my XO concurs. Not a good situation for you. Figure we got about five minutes to go offensive or soak up another volley.”

“I am not too worried about their torps but sooner or later they will smarten up and throw something we can’t dodge. This is not my idea of a good time. I could go flank speed and make their solution more difficult but that’s just putting off the inevitable. Shit, this is not good. What’s wrong with these fuckers? Why attack in such a stupid way? This cannot be part of some grand master war plan. They are coming at us dumb.”

“No way Neil, this is just escalating out of control. This is not premeditated. No way they are starting WWIII with a couple of old frigates. You surprised them and they panicked when I popped up out of nowhere. We are clear on ROE to take them out at this point.”

“I am worried about the political ramifications if we simply murder them.”

“It’s not murder, Neil. They attacked and you defended.”

“The first one was self-defense. Now I have the upper hand. That makes it murder.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Neil, you willing to take a risk? I don’t think their torps can hit you, but there is always the golden BB with your name on it.”

“What are you thinking, Billy?”

“Come about, head due west. Accelerate to flank. Give them a shitty torpedo solution. I’ll stay here and lie doggo, I’m barely making steerage way now and I don’t think they can hear me at flank speed like they are now. Maybe they hear the gertrude but we’ll clear datum by then. They follow you, I push a couple of torps up their ass in surface attack mode. Most likely a stern shot disables the ship but doesn’t sink her.”

“Can you plunk them both?”

“Come on Neil. The noise they make? I could hit them from my couch back in Pearl. If I miss, I go for the kill shot under their keel, but if I do that there won’t be many survivors.”

Attack boat skippers were a tad bit like fighter pilots. They picked aggressive personalities for the job. On the other hand, if Billy Loweson said he could take the shot, he could take the shot. Normally, the goal was to kill the other guy and your best shot was to get the torp under the target before exploding. That type of attack was actually much harder than just hitting the thing, but your odds of a hard kill were higher. Forcing his torps to run close to the surface and getting a contact hit was actually easier than what he had trained for. If the Chinese simply passed overhead, it was an easy shot. All of this assumed the Chinese didn’t have a lock on the Charlotte. Since the Kidd couldn’t hear her, he didn’t think the Chinese could either but that wasn’t the same as knowing they didn’t. On the other hand, if they took the bait and dashed after him at flank speed, they would be going way too fast to hear the very quiet Charlotte until it was too late. “Dovie’andi se tovya sagain.” Time to Roll the Dice. He chuckled as the quote came to mind from his teenage reading obsession.

The CIC noticed his chuckle as he put the handset for the Gertrude down. Something was up. “XO, inform the helm to take a reciprocal course to our Chinese friends. Flank speed, due west. Let’s get some sea room and find out if they can shoot. Comms, you got ears on that P-8?”

“Aye, sir.” The rating handed him yet another handset. “Call sign Condor Four Niner.”

“Condor Four Niner, this is Kidd Actual.”

“Go Kidd, this is Condor Four Niner.”

The voice on the phone sounded about fourteen. He was hoping the encryption was making him sound younger than he actually was, but this wasn’t the person he wanted to talk to. “Son, I need Condor Actual.”

“Wait one.”

“Kidd, go for Condor Actual.” This voice sounded calm and mature. The clear soprano didn’t belong to a rating but matched what Harris expected for a P-8 skipper. Usually an O-4 slot. Whoever she was, she sounded calm and in command. There was fuck all she could actually do to help, but she was doing her job in a tough situation. Watching a battle go down and not being able to help wasn’t easy.

“Condor, this is Kidd Actual. How are you loaded up there?”

“Kidd, Condor is loaded for patrol and ASW. A couple of torps and a shit ton of Buoys. Zero Harpoons.”

“Condor, roger that. About what I expected. We are turning to draw the Chinese out. I need you to stay eyes on until the engagement is done.”

“Roger that, Kidd. Condor is with you for the duration. I am still four hours until we are bingo fuel. We have some little buddies coming up from Okinawa and the zoomies are making noises about AWACs and some tanker support from Guam. We are green to go.”

“Roger, Condor. Your orders are to observe the engagement and then bug out to Guam. I expect fast movers in from the mainland shortly. You don’t want to be here then.”

“Ah, negative Kidd. Cannot comply, this time.”

“Godammit, Condor, don’t fuck around. I am commander on the scene. Do your job and bug out. You are more important as a witness than as ISR support. Do not give me any chain of command bullshit.”

There was a pause. “Kidd, we are watching. We will report. We are doing our job. Just do yours. Condor Actual, out.”

Harris sighed as he put down the phone. He would have made a comment about macho bullshit but he didn’t think women were supposed to do the macho thing. Not a cowboy either, he thought with another chuckle. Cowgirl? Technically, Harris had no authority to order an aviation officer around but in the case of an active firefight, the tradition was senior officer took command. That was a surface fleet tradition, but Navy was Navy. He probably couldn’t take her up on charges since he had no right to give her a direct order, but he felt justified in trying to get her clear, regardless. Well, he did his best. Now, let’s see what the Chinese do.

“XO, you got any smokes?”

“Skipper, you know I don’t smoke.”

“Yeah, me neither.” A specialist halfway down the room silently held up a pack of Marlboros with a lighter tucked in the wrapper. “God bless you, son.” As Harris lit up, he studiously ignored the “no smoking” sign in CIC. After a moment, the XO caved and bummed one also. “We owe specialist Wilson down there a pack.” The Master Chief quietly put his clandestine ashtray on top of the communications station. Normally, smoking in CIC was frowned upon, but he sometimes had a cig when things were quiet. Everyone knew but nobody had ever said a word. Goddammit, now I’m smoking. Harris had kicked the habit after his combat tour in Iraq in the green zone as a fresh nugget out of the Academy and had hoped never to smoke again. Well, at least I’m at sea this time and not taking fire hiding behind a damn desk!

Kidd was picking up speed again. Passing 30 knots, she was outpacing the Chinese Frigates. If the Chinese didn’t do something soon, they wouldn’t be able to. Her official top speed was 30 knots, but she could do much better when pressed. This was time to press.

“Transients! We have torps in the water!” Harris hated being right. The two frigates had spread out and were attempting an englobement attack. Harris didn’t think it would work, but thinking it wouldn’t work wasn’t the same as knowing it wouldn’t work. The speed of the Kidd was her ally now. Not as fast as one of the new LCS frigates, but more than fast enough to outrun these Chinese ships. Not faster than a torpedo, though. “Torps are accelerating, passing 100 knots. Sounds like supercavitation. Confirmed, Shkval torpedoes or similar. Running time, ten minutes current speed and vector. Estimate Chinese frigates will pass Charlotte in seven minutes.”

Harris picked up a phone. “Cheng, captain.”

There was a pause. “Aye, sir.”

“Cheng, I need a few more knots out of the old girl. Let’s set some records.”

There was only one response to a command like that. “Aye aye, sir.”

Harris thought he could feel the extra speed, but he was probably fooling himself. It was a small percentage of their overall output of several thousand horsepower. He did feel when the screws stopped blowing compressed air. Shutting down masker would give them a few extra knots but would also make them more visible to the trailing torpedoes. To make this plan work, it was a risk he was going to have to take.

“Recalculate impact of torpedoes with new course and speed.”

“Time to impact, six minutes.”

“Time to Charlotte fire point?”

“Estimate Charlotte firing in four minutes.”

Thomas voiced his concerns in a low voice. “That’s razor thin, skipper.”

“I hear ya, Butch. I plan to jink hard to the right and re-engage masker once Charlotte fires. That plus the Nixie should hold us.”

“Sounds good in theory.”

“Communism sounds good in theory, Butch. That’s not what I’m worried about.” Harris started pacing. He hated looking nervous in front of the crew, but this was too much to stand still. “Weps, call out when Charlotte goes hot.”

“Aye aye, sir. Estimate another sixty seconds.”

“Helm, prepare for a crash turn to starboard. 90 degrees’ starboard then reduce speed to 1/3 and bring masker online. ASW, I assume you have Nixie ready to make an excellent imitation of the Kidd.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“Good. OK people, this is what we get paid for. By the numbers, if you see something, call out. Don’t wait for me. We’re only going to get one shot at this. Make sure your departments know what we’re planning.”

“Transient! Transient! High confidence Charlotte has fired!!”

“HELM! Crash turn, 90 degrees starboard! Reduce speed to 1/3. ASW! Nixie to emulation mode.” The turn would take at least thirty seconds to complete. Then another twenty or thirty for the Nixie to stream out astern. It was going to be close. “ASW, time to torp impact?”

“Chinese torps impact in sixty seconds. Charlotte torps impact in ten. Three… Two… Impact!! I have multiple impacts! Sir, the Frigates are slowing. They appear damaged but still afloat. Unknown casualties. Chinese fish are running straight and true. Wait one. They are not mirroring our turn. Torps are running dumb. The impact must have thrown off their guidance. Estimate torps will miss the Kidd.”

Harris examined the threat board closely. The real worry was Chinese shore-based air support. That would not be a happy eventuality for Kidd. They seemed to be in the clear for now. The Kidd’s powerful air search radar would see them coming unless they were skimming the waves which they couldn’t do for too long and still have the range they needed. The nearest Chinese air base was at least two hours away. There could be more frigates or other surface units out there, but the P-8 hadn’t spotted anyone close enough to be a concern. There would be inbound Chinese air assets soon enough, but he had help coming up from Okinawa also. Assuming that they didn’t really want to start WWIII, that would probably end the incident right there. “XO, raise the Pan Chao, see if they want a tow to Okinawa. We should be able to get them there in a few days even if we can’t get a fleet tug dispatched to help.”

“Not to Taiwan?”

“No way, not on my watch. I am bugging out of here. We will have friendly air support all the way to Okinawa so that’s where I’m headed. They get one option. If not, they are on their own.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“Someone get me the gertrude. Billy is never going to let me live this one down.”

“Vampire!! Vampire!!”

Harris snapped his head around. “Report!”

“Sir, I have two ballistic missile tracks. Estimate that we have anti-ship ballistic missile inbound. I say again, ballistic missile inbound.”

“Weapons free. Anti Air.”

“Aye aye, Weapons Free.” Again, the key was turned. Again, the VLS roared. This time, two of the much larger ABM interceptors, the SM-3 were launched.

“Butch, get us out of here, screw with their solution. The destroyers must be feeding them targeting data. How long until we are out of their radar coverage?”

“Ten more minutes at flank.”

“All ahead flank. Reciprocal course. Fire two Nulkas.” The Nulka decoys were new. They had worked well against ancient Chinese missiles off the coast of Yemen, but nobody knew how well they would work against modern Chinese designs.

Thomas looked concerned, as he should be. “We could take out the frigates. No way they are targeting us from shore.”

“Weps, any more tracks?”

“No, sir, just the two.”

“Butch, we could, but they have ten minutes of flight time. Unless they fire now we will be out of range before they can fire again. We dodge this bullet and they are Winchester.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“Sir, we have a good intercept. Hard paint, the missiles have acquired their targets.”

“Very well, carry on. EW systems to maximum.”

“Hit! First Interceptor Hit! Miss! Miss! One missile inbound. Radar terminal guidance active.”

“Chaff!! Fire Chaff Rockets!” The VLS roared again, this time with shorter RIM-162 ESSM missiles. Two more arched up and away. The roar of the small rockets filled with aluminum foil was quiet in comparison. The Kidd was fighting for her life. Two more ESSMs fired. Even at full speed as she was now, there was no way to outrun a ballistic missile. They could only hope to confuse it or shoot it down. The CIWS was not going to help in this case as they could not elevate to shoot straight up where a ballistic missile came from. In reality, the Burke was designed to fight an older threat of Soviet cruise missiles. Nobody had envisioned ballistic anti-ship missiles when she was built.

“Impact in ten seconds.”

“Sound collision!”

“Brace! Brace! Brace!”

Harris was too numbed by recent events to even be frightened. It was happening too quickly, and he had too much to do. The shakes would come later, he knew, if he lived through the next ten seconds.

To the rear of the ship, there was a massive explosion that shook the ship. Random fragments pelted her upper decks and penetrated the rear helicopter hanger, where Harris had ordered the helos staffed but never authorized them to take off.

“Miss! Missile detonated aft! Damage Control Aft! Damage Control to the Flight Deck! Fire on the flight Deck!”

In the end, both the helicopters were out of commission, probably permanently. Four sailors died and ten were wounded. A very lucky outcome for the Kidd, even if Harris didn’t feel lucky. After he was sure the ship was safe from Chinese radar coverage, he went into his cabin and threw up into the head.

Four men dead, from a miss. What happens when they hit us?

Continue reading with Episode 2