“I’m very glad to hear it.” Novachik studied the Japanese-American closer. He’d worked with Novachik and his men closely, certain that they would have to use this equipment and their training, somewhere, sometime.
The “Hell on Wheels” armored division combat patch on the younger man’s shoulder showed that he had seen action during the Desert Storm campaign. And whenever he smiled, a thin, faint tracery of scar tissue showed on the right side of his face, climbing from his cheek almost all the way up to his eye. It was a strange feeling to command a man who had actually fought in a war while all he’d ever done was practice for one.
Americans like Takei were working throughout the Polish Army and Air Force, trying to blend American equipment and tactics with their Soviet predecessors into something that would meet uniquely Polish needs.
Followed by a gaggle of staff officers and other observers, the two men walked back across the muddy, rutted field toward a parked column of GAZ jeeps and Humvees. As his boots sank into the soft ground, Novachik wondered how Takei’s lightning-swift war of sweeping movement, blinding sandstorms, and burning oil might compare with one fought in this soft, green, confining landscape. It would be bloodier here, he thought grimly. Much bloodier.
CHAPTER 14
Narrow Margin
European developments dominated CNN’s afternoon news wrap-up.
“Furious at Washington’s plans to ship more arms to Poland and the Czech Republic, the European Confederation’s fledgling Foreign Secretariat issued a stinging condemnation at a hastily called press conference in Paris.”
The camera view cut away from the Atlanta anchor desk to a prerecorded clip taped hours earlier outside the French Foreign Ministry. Sheltered from a spring drizzle by umbrellas held aloft by his aides, an unidentified official stood reading a prepared statement in French. An English-accented voice translated his angry words for American viewers. “The Confederation utterly rejects this latest cynical attempt by the United States to inject itself in Europe’s internal affairs. At a time of unfortunate rising tensions, it is an act of madness to ship more weapons to a region already bristling with arms. If this regrettable confrontation explodes out of hand, it will be the United States itself which has furnished the gasoline and struck the match…”
The scene shifted to a military airfield identified by caption only as being somewhere in “Northern Germany.” Crewmen could be seen working on several camouflaged warplanes, while other jets taxied past them in the background. Patrolling soldiers and guard dogs were visible near a barbed-wire fence in the distance. An off-camera reporter narrated this segment. “While its diplomats express their outrage at the administration’s actions, the EurCon Defense Secretariat is taking sterner measures. CNN has learned that several squadrons of German and French combat aircraft have been placed on a higher state of alert. A high-ranking Secretariat official characterizes this as a ’sound precautionary move, given the large number of American warships now operating so close to our northern coast.’”
Eight ships raced southeast at high speed, slicing through long, gray-green waves rolling steadily eastward. A long line of low-lying dark clouds stretched across the western horizon behind them — the leading edge of a slow- moving storm they’d punched through while rounding the northern tip of Scotland.
Four of the vessels were massive SL-7 container ships, each nearly a thousand feet long but still able to move at thirty-three knots. Together the freighters carried enough M1 Abrams tanks, M2 Bradley infantry fighting vehicles, artillery pieces, helicopters, spare parts, and ammunition to completely refit a Polish mechanized brigade. They were ringed by four sleek, antenna-studded U.S. Navy warships — two
Task Group 22.1 was a powerful force to guard just four cargo ships, far more powerful than standard naval doctrine would have dictated. With tensions in Europe still climbing, Washington was using this arms convoy to send a strong signal to the leaders in Paris and Berlin: America would not back away from its Polish and Czech allies. Not even under growing EurCon pressure.
Vice Admiral Jack Ward lowered his binoculars, satisfied by what he could see from
The admiral was a middling-tall man with broad shoulders and a long reach that had served him well as a boxer at the Naval Academy. Snow-white hair topped a tanned, square-jawed face that only turned red when he was ready to jump down somebody’s throat. That didn’t happen often, just often enough to keep his subordinates on their toes.
Since joining the fleet during the mid-sixties, Ward had seen steady, if not spectacular, promotion. Along the way he’d attended all the right staff and command schools, held several commands both ashore and afloat, and managed to finagle more sea duty than any of his contemporaries. For the admiral, being a sailor meant being aboard a warship at sea — not confined to sailing a desk or navigating the Pentagon’s labyrinthine corridors.
Now he commanded Task Force 22, the collection of American warships assigned to provide escorts for the oil and LNG tankers keeping Poland and the Czech and Slovak republics alive. Task Group 22.1 and their charges was only one of several similar formations under his control.
His cruisers, destroyers, and frigates had been hard at work for more than six weeks now, shepherding the mammoth floating bombs from Scotland and Norway through the narrow straits to Gdansk. At first, their biggest problems had come when Greenpeace demonstrators tried chaining themselves to the tankers or forming small boat blockades. Lately, though, his captains had been reporting increasing Franco-German air and naval activity — barely disguised harassment, really — along the sea approaches to the Baltic.
Ward was expecting even more trouble this time. Egged on by their political leaders, EurCon’s military commanders were taking more serious measures to turn their anger into action. Over the past several days, they’d stepped up their air patrols over the Atlantic and the North Sea, put several squadrons of maritime attack aircraft on higher states of alert, and sortied an unusually large number of diesel and nuclear submarines. But it was all part of the same dangerous game of intimidation they’d been playing with his oil and gas convoys. Probably.
The admiral frowned. He didn’t scare easily. Of course, he also didn’t plan on making his opposing numbers’ lives any easier. That was why he’d brought this convoy around Scotland rather than through the English Channel. The SL-7s were so fast that going the extra distance cost very little time. And taking the northern route avoided the bulk of the French coast — making it that much more difficult for EurCon’s search planes to find them.
Ward looked up as a bright light began flashing from the closest destroyer,
He checked his watch. Probably the noon position report.
All communications between his ships were being passed the old-fashioned way, either by signal flags or by blinker light. Task Group 22.1 was operating in EMCON, or emission control. Traveling in radio and radar silence would make the convoy harder for the French or Germans to find. The less they knew about his position, course, and speed, the happier he was.
Naturally, the closer the group got to the funnel called the Skagerrak, the easier it would be to find. But then it wouldn’t matter so much. With their own trade lifelines at risk, Denmark and Sweden were enforcing strict operating restrictions on ships and aircraft near the straits. And with both EurCon and U.S. diplomats wooing the two countries, neither side wanted trouble there. No, the only place with enough room for real monkey business was the North Sea. Here.
Ward took one last breath of crisp, clean salt air and left the bridge wing, headed for
The days when opposing ships met yardarm-to-yardarm were long gone. Modern naval battles were fought at
