his left foot when it hit the aft edge of the hatch, but the pain only served to remind him to pull the D-ring as he sailed toward the lush tropical forests below. The stricken B- 1 continued to sail in a nose-high climbing right turn for several minutes, almost executing a full 180degree turn, until it finally ran out of airspeed, stalled, and crashed to earth near the town of Cadeco. The last aircraft of the first raid of the Air Battle Force had completed its journey. “Sir, report from a J-7 fighter over Samar International Airport, ” the radioman announced. Admiral Yin was on his feet. “Speak!” he shouted, loud enough to startle just about everyone in the room. “Is the airport taken?” The radioman listened for a several moments, his face look ing more ashen and disbelieving every second. He glanced at Yin, then at Sun9 then back toward his equipment. “Well? Speak!”
“Sir… sir, the pilot reports numerous vessels afire in Dadaotan Straits and Bangoy Harbor, ” the radioman said. “No contact from any ground units on any tactical channel. Several explosions . . . secondary explosions . . . indications of some troop movement on the ground, but none that will answer on any frequency.” Admiral Yin was absolutely thunderstruck. “No . . . contact . . . no contact from any of my Marines?”
“Sir, it does not mean anything, ” Captain Sun Ji Guoming said. “The Marines most assuredly went into deep cover when the American air strike came in. They must be safe.” But his words did nothing to assuage Yin’s feelings of utter despair and hopelessness. Eight thousand Marines . . . six thousand sailors . . . no contact with any of them . “Status of the American bombers, ” Captain Sun ordered. Action was the best therapy now-they had an invasion force to run. Just because contact was lost did not mean that the battle was lost. “Have they withdrawn?”
“Yes, sir, ” the radioman reported. “All aircraft have disengaged. One B-1 destroyed during the last raid.”
“Very good, ” Sun said. “Excellent. Sir, did you hear that report?” Finally, an incredible sense of relief seemed to wash over every man on the Hong Lung’s flag bridge, and especially over Admiral Yin Po L’un. They knew that the American Air Battle Force had sent most of their aircraft on this one raid, and that they had sustained rather heavy losses. There would not be another air raid for several days, if at all-still plenty of time to take Samar Airport and win this battle. “Order that J-7 pilot to investigate at Samar International Airport, ” Yin ordered. “See if any of our troops have managed to take the airfield. It is impossible for only a handful of bombers to completely stop thousands of Marines.” Several minutes passed. Then: “Sir, message from Jian FourFour. He has made contact with a Marine company commander, who wishes to relay a status report to you.”
“Excellent! I knew our forces were still on the move! Open the channel.” After a few anxious moments, they heard, “Hong Lung, this is Tiger. Hong Lung, this is Tiger. How do you read?”
“It is Colonel Liyujiang, ” Captain Sun said excitedly. “I recognize his voice. He is the commander of the northern assault force.” Yin himself picked up the microphone. “We read you, Tiger. What is your location? What is your status?” The voice seemed weary, but the man spoke in a clear voice. “Tiger reports from inside the northeast gate of Samar International Airport, ” Liyujiang said. “Inside the airport! We have made it!” one of the flag staff members shouted. “The Marines are going to capture the airport!”
“Status as follows.. “There was a short pause, as if Liyujiang had to refer to a chart. Then, to Yin’s horror, he heard a voice in English. “This is Colonel Renaldo Carigata, Admiral Yin, acting deputy commander, Commonwealth of Mindanao Defense Force. Colonel Liyujiang will not be giving any reports for quite some time, so allow me to proceed. Status as follows: General Samar’s forces still hold the airport and the city. My snipers are going out to greet what is left of your invasion force right now. Allah akbar. Good day, Admiral Yin.” And the line went dead. Yin stepped back from the radioman, horrified. The members of his flag staff looked on in absolute shock. Captain Sun led the crushed Fleet Admiral back to his seat. “Don’t worry, Admiral, ” Captain Sun said. “Wait for the complete status report. Do not lose faith in your men. The air raids are over now-we can reassemble our forces and finish this battle. We can “Sir!” the intercom from the HongLung’s Combat Information Center blared out. “Missile warning! Patrol boat reports possible inbound Tomahawk cruise missiles from the southeast. Multiple inbounds, heading northwest . . . sir! Possible sighting of aircraft from patrol boat 403, two hundred and twenty kilometers east of our position.. . sir, first estimate of missiles inbound from the southeast number twenty… sir, do you copy.. Yin was numb. He had lost. The Americans had not only decimated his spearhead forces, but had quickly assembled another attack force and were pressing the engagement. There was only one thing to do. Slowly, the look of shock still frozen on his face, Yin withdrew a silver key on a chain about his neck. Every member of his flag staff shot to their feet in horror… it was the execution key for the Fei Lung-9 nuclear missiles. But despite their horror no one tried to stop Yin-they realized that it was his only option. Good or bad, Yin would ultimately win this battle and do what he set out to accomplish-destroy the city of Davao, crush the rebel opposition, and occupy Mindanao. Yin inserted the key into the execution order box and pressed a button inside the recessed chamber. The alarm began to ring through the ship. No one on the flag staff moved. Crewmen scurried about, handing out protective gear and running to their Fei Lung-9 battle stations. Yin picked up the telephone. “Battle Cry. Battle Cry, ” the Admiral said. His face was ghostly, muffled, almost strangled-he could have had his protective facemask on, but he did not. “Initial code verified, ” the voice of the Fei Lung-9 weapon systems officer on the other end of the line asked. “Targets, sir?” Yin paused, his eyes trying to fix on something in the darkness beyond the slanted windows of the flag bridge. He then said, “Davao.”
“Understood, sir. Execution automatic. Awaiting authentication code.” Yin seemed to be frozen. “Comrade Admiral? Authentication code?”
“Red… Moon…” “Understood, sir. Authentication verified. Full connectivity checked . . . received. Execution in three minutes . . . mark. System automatic engaged, extreme range of system but coming within range, attack profile confidence is good. Countdown hold in two minutes. Combat out.” The two-minutes-to-automatic-countdown hold passed very, very quickly. The phone to Yin’s panel rang and he raised it to his lips. “Final countdown hold, sir. Target now within range. Orders?”
“Orders… Dragon Sword. Dragon Sword, ” Yin replied. “Understood, sir. Final code verified.” The sixty- secondlaunch warning to all decks blared. And then there was another sound, except it was not a horn-it was a high-pitched scream, rising in intensity to almost painful proportions. Just as the scream became almost physically unbearable, the destroyer was rocked by a spectacular explosion that dimmed the lights throughout the ship and sent most of the flag staff sprawling. Jon Masters had commanded the second NIRTSat reconnaissance satellite to deorbit while it was still thirty thousand miles away. The satellite had retracted its charge-coupled device scanners and sensitive radar antennae within its protective housing, then powerful thrusters began to slow the satellite at a precise moment. As the satellite slowed from its orbital speed of seventeen thousand miles per hour, it began to descend through the atmosphere. The thrusters kept the satellite’s protective tiles facing its direction of travel as it re-entered the atmosphere, burning off bits of the ablative armor as it careened through space like an asteroid. But unlike an asteroid, the NIRTSat was still under control from a console on Guam. Once the satellite had safely decelerated, Masters ordered the on-board sensors activated. The satellite was right on course, right on the same track it had been following since its launch-right over the Celebes Sea near Davao Gulf. Masters had simply locked the synthetic aperture radar and infrared scanner on the fleet of five ships; then, as it got closer and closer, he positively identified the large destroyer and steered it directly onto the aft deck of the Hong Lung. The satellite was of course not carrying a warhead, but falling at over five times the speed of sound, the destructive power of the titanium-armored four-hundred-pound satellite was akin to a large torpedo. The force of the impact drove the Hong Lung’s stern down several meters; then the satellite crashed through the engine compartment belowdecks and literally pushed one of the diesel-turbine engines down ten feet through the keel. The engine compartment began to flood, and the ship had already begun to heavily list to one side and by the stern before enough watertight doors could be closed to contain the damage. … and, most importantly, the impact and the momentary power interruption had automatically canceled the Fei Lung-9 launch. Yin’s last attempt at revenge and victory had been stopped. Captain Sun stepped over to Admiral Yin, bowed, and said, “Comrade Admiral, the flooding is nearly out of control. The frigate Jiujiang is alongside. Will you transfer your flag, sir?” There was no reply. Admiral Yin was staring blankly ahead, his thoughts a confused jumble of his past, the present-and the dismal future. Returning to China and facing the general staff would be devastating, utterly devastating. His honor would be ripped apart in full view of the entire world. His court-martial and execution would be public and brutal. He would be totally, utterly humiliated. Yin turned to Captain Sun, and he saw that the man’s demeanor, far from being the attentive chief of staff, now appeared to be more like a second at a duel, making sure that Yin realized and fulfilled his obligation. His obligation . . . to lead his forces into victory, or die. Sun understood the humiliation that awaited the Admiral upon his return, and he silently reminded him that he need not subject himself to it. Captain Sun and the Admiral’s flag staff watched with awe and, yes, a bit of admiration and respect, as Admiral Yin Po L’un stepped toward the small personal shrine installed in one corner of the Admiral’s flag bridge, knelt before it, withdrew his Type 547.62-
