possible communications system. No one expected a counterattack by night, but this was different. The cloak of darkness was gone, and everyone on the beach felt very vulnerable as the light grew stronger.
The very least the Chinese Navy must do would be to send a couple of helicopters in to find out why they could not contact the jail anymore. If those choppers arrived in the next five minutes they would surely open fire on the fleeing Americans.
“COME ON, YOU GUYS…LET’s GO! GO! GO!”
The lead driver, veteran Petty Officer Zack Redmond, was growing more jumpy by the minute. And he was not alone. Olaf Davidson was in the water, manhandling the machine guns into the boats. Buster and Rattlesnake were up to their waists, shoving men up and over into the boats.
When it was Rick’s turn he stood next to them and bent his left leg at the knee, and the two SEALs grabbed his tree-trunk shin and lifted. The world’s largest jockey thus vaulted over the gunwales like Bill Shoemaker at Santa Anita.
It was a minute after 0600 when the last boat was pushed the few yards out deep enough to lower the engines. The beaches were completely deserted now, and as the five motors roared into life, all of the SEALs found themselves looking back at the tiny Chinese island on which they had fought with such superhuman courage.
The black smoke over the jail had gone, and the place looked peaceful again, an idyllic tropical beach, with water turning more turquoise blue every minute. Nonetheless, they were all ecstatic to get away from it. Only Judd Crocker looked sad as he stared at the jungle and wondered where the body of Lieutenant Commander Rothstein had been buried, and if anyone would ever know his final resting place.
The Zodiacs hurtled out into the bay, and now for the first time, the SEALs could look at the seaway between the two islands. Opposite, on the shores of Shangchuan Dao, the coastline was long and flat, with low mountains rising in the background. Xiachuan looked altogether more rugged. But the best news was the total lack of activity. Here on this bright Monday morning, there was still no sign of even a junk, far less a warship. And the U.S. Navy drivers opened the throttles and sped across the calm sea, making their course change after three miles, and then making a beeline sou’sou’west, straight toward the waiting submarine
Colonel Lee had held his ship at flank speed all the way from Zhanjiang, easily outpacing the much smaller frigate
Lee had twice checked in with his own fleet commander, Admiral Zu Jicai, and had been told that Admiral Zhang had by no means altered his mindset. In fact, he was as determined as ever that the guns, missiles and torpedoes of
Colonel Lee was bewildered. It was so atypical. After a lifetime in the Navy of China, he had never been told to open fire, not even when Taiwan was involved, or even Japan. This was totally out of character. China was a very old civilization and it had long ago learned that discretion was almost always the better part of valor.
Letting loose high explosive at a modern-day trading partner with whom all-out war would be a massive disaster for China was not reasonable. And the Chinese prided themselves on reason. They might cheat, lie, steal, obfuscate the truth, evade and frequently commit the sin of omission. But lack reason? Never.
And here was this great Chinese warship being ordered to march, effectively into the jaws of death, with guns blazing. In peacetime. In cold blood. In total madness, so far as Colonel Lee could tell.
He turned to his XO, Lieutenant Commander Shoudong, and murmured for the umpteenth time, “I do not understand it.”
The XO did not understand it either. But now he was becoming fatalistic, ever since the last call to Fleet Headquarters. And he said resignedly, “Sir, we are probably ten miles from the edge of the search area. Does this really mean that if we pick up a submarine, we just go straight in and start firing?”
“That is precisely what it means.”
“No warnings? No instructions to leave Chinese waters immediately? Not even a shot across her bow?”
“No, Guan. None of that. My orders are to open fire, straight at her, with whatever means necessary to sink her.”
“My God,” said the XO. “We better not miss, sir. Or she will surely obliterate us.”
“Guan, she may do that even if we don’t miss.”
Lt. Commander Anwei Bao, the combat systems officer, returned to the bridge and caught just the end of the conversation.
“I have done as you instructed, sir. We are ready to open fire with all systems immediately…but there is just one thing, sir, I’d like to ask…”
“Please do.”
“Does anyone know any background to this? Why we apparently are prepared to risk an out-and-out conflict with the United States?”
“Well, there is the matter of the submarine that blew up in Canton last night. I suppose that may be implicated. But the Americans did not blow it up. I thought we did, our own scientists.”
“Well, that’s the official line, but you never know.”
“And what are we doing heading for the shallow waters around the two islands up ahead?”
“Now that’s a real mystery. I have no idea.”
“And why do they think we’re going to find another American submarine due south of Xiachuan? There’s no one on that island.”
“I have not been told that, either. Just that we are likely to find one, and then to destroy it.”
“Green-two-zero, sir. Submarine on the surface.” Buster Townsend, leaning forward, peering through the binoculars, had USS
Despite the heavy protection, everyone was growing nervous about the evacuation in Chinese national waters in broad daylight. On board the Los Angeles — class attack submarine, they literally could not wait to get under the surface.
The SEAL drivers headed straight toward it, bringing the Zodiacs expertly alongside, forward of the sail, where the crew had lowered climbing nets. Everyone in the inflatables was a highly trained SEAL who knew everything about boarding submarines in the worst possible conditions, right down to banging on the hull with their fighting knives underwater in order to be let in. The only non-SEAL in the Zodiacs was Captain Judd Crocker, and he was a submarine commanding officer. He’d manage.
The navigation officer, up on the bridge with the CO, heard the report: “Conn-ESM. Racket. X-Band. Military. Bearing two-six-zero. Approaching danger level.”
Commander Tom Wheaton picked up his binoculars and looked out to the darker western horizon, but could see nothing. But from the ESM report, he knew this radar was most likely to be a Chinese warship, and it was about to come over the radar horizon. At which moment he would be caught
Now, Commander Wheaton was not empowered to get into combat. However, he did not have sufficient water to dive the submarine, so he would have to concentrate on making his getaway on the surface. The nearest water deep enough to dive was still four miles ahead. He could be underwater in about 18 minutes, with the two frigates blocking for him.
