But of equal interest to Vos were the hydrofoils that had been sent as escorts. They included the Nimbus, under Lieutenant Commander Marie Moreno, and the Fractus, with Lieutenant Mark Conte in command. Between them the PHMs could launch sixteen Harpoon missiles at any Chinese vessel that might venture near. A fact that made Vos feel better.
There were challenges however. Getting the barge alongside the quay took some doing. Then there was the matter of unloading weapons systems that had to propel themselves off the barge and onto the wharf. That meant constructing a ramp, using extremely heavy steel plates brought along for the purpose.
The Russian built Tor missile system was the size of a heavy tank and mounted on treads. Considerable maneuvering was required to turn the beast onto the narrow ramp and nurse it up slope onto the concrete quay. But after an hour of fits and starts the behemoth was finally ashore.
Vos had chosen a place for the Tor system well away from everything else where, if it was destroyed, nothing else would be harmed.
According to Chin, set-up and testing would take the remaining daylight hours. But by midnight, Vos hoped to have the all-weather system up and running. Then the Tor system could defend the island from airplanes, helicopters, cruise missiles, drones, and precision guided munitions. And she’d be able to sleep.
The C-RAM system was on multiple trailers and a small tractor had been sent to tow them off the barge. Vos had chosen to locate the C-RAM system at the opposite end of the curving land mass and well away from the Tor setup.
Ryson’s plan called for keeping at least one PHM at or near the island at all times, ready to fire on long-range surface targets if necessary. But, should the Chinese engage the hydrofoil, and send fast boats into the lagoon, the Counter rocket, artillery and mortar system would defend itself and the anti-air Tor installation. It was, Vos thought, a clever strategy.
But cleverness would only get Squadron 7 so far. If it decided to exert itself, and bring the necessary amount of force to bear, China could swat Samir like a fly. And the results wouldn’t be pretty.
***
Aboard the HMAS Rockhampton off the east coast of Palawan, in the South China Sea
There weren’t any good choices. Just bad choices. If Ryson took his flotilla down the west side of Palawan island they’d be vulnerable to the Chinese forces stationed on Mischief Reef. And if he ventured further to the west, in an attempt to give the Spratly Islands a wide berth, he might encounter a Chinese task force—because the ChiCom bastards pretty much “owned” the South China Sea.
So, Ryson had chosen to cruise down the east coast of Palawan. At the moment the boats were entering the Cuyo West Passage, with the Cuyo islands off to port.
Once through the narrow passageway they would enter the Sulu Sea where Filipino naval units could be waiting. Then assuming it survived, the flotilla would make the transition into the neighboring Celebes Sea, and proceed to Manado. Or not. Time would tell.
Things went well at first. The sea state qualified as “slight,” with seas that were roughly two feet high, and running to the northeast. The sky was mostly clear, with broken clouds, some of which threw asymmetrical patterns onto the cerulean water.
Contrails clawed the sky, and served to remind Ryson of the war above. Were the planes Chinese? Or Allied? There was no way to know.
As for surface ships, there were hundreds of radar blips. And that was normal in an area frequented by fishing boats representing half a dozen nations.
That situation continued for the better part of an hour. And Ryson was napping in his chair when ET Sykes spoke over the intercom. “There’s some unusual activity taking place south of us, Captain. I thought you’d want to know.”
Ryson opened his eyes and sat up. Christian frowned. “What sort of activity?”
“Some of the fishing boats are bunching up, while others are spreading port and starboard,” Sykes replied. ‘It’s weird.”
“I’m coming down,” Christian said, and left the bridge. Ryson followed. Sykes was in the CIC, sitting next to a radio operator. And sure enough, most of the blips on his screen were swarming, while a few were motoring away. “It’s a scrum,” Christian said.
Ryson frowned. “A what?”
“A scrum. As in Rugby. It means an orderly formation of players used to restart play. We’ve seen it before. At least one in ten Chinese fishing boats are equipped to gather intelligence, and fight if necessary, which they are preparing to do. We call them ‘X-boats.’”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive,” the Australian answered. “Look … See how the boats are forming a funnel? The whole idea is to guide us into the middle of the scrum where the X boats are waiting. If we change course, they’ll reform to block us.”
“But we can fight our way through,” Ryson suggested.
“Yes, probably,” Christian agreed. “But some X boats have hydraulically operated gun turrets that pop up from below.”
“On fishing boats.”
“Yes. Most of those fishing boats are roughly the same size as the Rockhampton.”
“Shit.”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. Notify the other boats. Tell them to form a line ahead.”
The same order had been given during the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805, when ships on both sides of the conflict formed columns prior to what became a melee.
The purpose of the maneuver was to ensure that the second and third boats could make use of their heavy machine guns to the port and starboard, while the Rockhampton’s bow-mounted M242 Bushmaster autocannon blew a hole through the enemy line.
Then, if it became necessary, Ryson would order boats two and three to move sideways in opposite directions to free their bow guns. Meanwhile sailors, with help from the commandos, would hose the “fishing” boats down with small arms fire
