The combined effect of the explosions was to send more than fifty columns of smoke up into the sky, where they came together to block the light from the rising sun, and throw a gray pall over the “Lion City.”
In spite of the hits it took, the shared Singapore and United States Air Force base located in the central-eastern part of the city, still managed to launch fighters. And the Allies knew where their tormentor was by then.
Captain Ko expected to be attacked from the air and gave the necessary orders. “Fire anti-air missiles as the enemy planes come into range. Reverse course, give me flank speed, and make for Hainan Island. Contact the 323rd Home Defense Squadron on Mischief Reef and order them to take off.’
Jing knew that Mischief Reef was an atoll that surrounded a large lagoon in the east Spratly Islands. And he knew that the Chinese government had spent years transforming the reef into an island, complete with buildings, defenses, and a military air strip.
The fact that Mischief Reef was located along the Sea Dragon’s line of retreat was no accident. Thanks to Ko’s foresight and influence, twelve Chengdu J-20 fighters were prepositioned at the reef, ready to provide air cover while the arsenal ship made its way home.
The jets, along with the fifty HQ-9A anti-air missiles in the Sea Dragon’s launchers, should ensure a safe escape. Jing certainly hoped so, because he didn’t want to die.
***
Aboard the ship Agger, in Manado Harbor, Indonesia
After arriving in Manado, and turning both Lieutenant Commander Greer and Roberto Dalisay over to navy intelligence, Ryson returned to his cabin aboard the Agger. A message was waiting: “Admiral Nathan requests your presence at breakfast at 0800 tomorrow morning.” Ryson looked at his watch. It was 0230. But there was no helping it. He made a point of setting his alarm for 0700 this time, laid out a white uniform, and took a nap.
Ryson awoke a 0658, looked at the clock, and turned the alarm off. By then Ryson knew he could phone the galley and order a half pot of coffee before the breakfast meeting.
With that out of the way he took a shower, shaved, and emerged to find the coffee waiting. It was good. Damned good. Which shouldn’t have been a surprise since Indonesia was one of the leading coffee producers in the world.
After getting dressed, and consuming two additional cups, Ryson left the cabin. A slim binder was tucked under his right arm as he made his way to the Penthouse Verandah Suite. A steward was waiting. “Good morning, sir. Admiral Nathan was called away. He’ll be back soon. In the meantime, he suggested that you start breakfast without him. You want a pot of coffee and an order of crispy bacon. Is that correct?”
“You have an amazing memory,” Ryson replied. “Thank you. And I’d like to have an English muffin too, if one is available.”
“It is,” the steward assured him. “Please have a seat.”
A pair of binoculars, a tablet computer, and a half empty cup of tea marked Nathan’s chair. So Ryson took the one next to it. An awning had been rigged to throw some shade on the table. His coffee arrived. Ryson settled in to watch a pair of tugs guide a container ship into port. “There you are,” Nathan said, as if Ryson had been MIA. “Pretty, isn’t it? Of course, it is. Glad to see you have your coffee.”
“Sorry to be late,” Nathan added, as he sat down. Even though Ryson knew he wasn’t. “I had to take a secure call,” Nathan added importantly. “The Sea Dragon attacked Singapore shortly after 0500 this morning. The bastards went after the container terminal first, followed by the navy bases, and individual targets. They sank three frigates. Then, after firing their damnable railgun and more than a hundred missiles, they ran for the Spratlys.
“Our fighters gave chase. But twelve Chinese fighters were waiting for them, along with dozens of surface-to-air missiles fired by the Sea Dragon. All of which is to say that they kicked our asses and returned to Yulin Harbor without sustaining so much as a scratch. General Haskell is furious.”
Ryson knew that Haskell was in command of the United States Indo-Pacific Command, under which non-NATO countries like Australia had agreed to fight. The news that Singapore had been attacked, and severely damaged by a single ship, would come as a terrible shock.
Their breakfasts arrived at that point. And, in spite of the terrible news, Ryson discovered that he was hungry. “Haskell is of the opinion that none of his people are doing enough to find the Sea Dragon,” Nathan said. “And that includes you and me. Normally your effort to snatch an escaped flier out from under Costa’s nose would have produced an ‘attaboy.’ Not this time.
“In fact, when I raised the matter, Haskell’s response was, ‘Well, that’s just lovely. What’s the sonofabitch doing to find the Sea Dragon?’”
Ryson took a sip of coffee. “I understand the general’s pain. And, as it happens, I have something in mind. A plan which will increase my squadron’s chances of finding the Sea Dragon. It’s all in here.”
Nathan accepted the binder. “Strike while the iron is hot, eh what? Pour yourself another cup of coffee while I take a look.”
Ryson was both pleased and fearful. Pleased that Nathan was going to read the proposal, and fearful of how he might react.
There were two kinds of senior officers in Ryson’s experience. Skimmers and divers. When skimmers read a document, they’re looking for the big so-what.
And when divers read a document, they’re were looking for the so-what plus the who, what, why, when and how. Which group did Nathan belong to?
As minutes passed, and Nathan turned pages, it soon became obvious that the admiral was a diver. That meant Ryson could expect a detailed grilling. And that was fine with him.
Finally, after
