Condition Zebra: The Next War - 2025

Chapter 10

At 09:00 that morning HMS Vengeance was dying, her speed down to a crawl, heavy flooding pulling the 60,000 ton carrier into a list to port side, her fires still raging amidships. She still had a RIM-7P Sea Sparrow mount active, and it was among the first to engage the enemy SSM’s, along with Type 42 class destroyer Gloucester, with her Sea Darts. As these went out, aimed at missiles cruising in at 500 knots, they were suddenly evaded when the missiles leapt ahead. The Sea Darts turned at 1360 knots, unable to catch up to the Sizzlers as they sped away.

Three came for Argos Fire, but her Aster 15’s were able to take them head on and kill them. Commander Dean was riveted at the radar screen, seeing his ship now engaging missiles heading for the stricken carrier. They saw the frigate Iron Duke maneuvering between their position and Vengeance, and then the YJ-18’s found the frigate and blew it to hell. Destroyer Edinburgh took the next hit off the starboard side of Argos Fire, and both those ships would sink that hour.

Then Dean and Mack Morgan watched in horror as another set of four YJ-18’s fired up their rocket boosters, surged away from two more Sea Darts, and then slammed into the listing hulk of HMS Vengeance. With one more mighty explosion, the carrier was swallowed by the sea, her fires boiling into steam as it started the long journey down, men sliding off the aft deck into the water. There had been over 1500 officers and crew aboard that carrier, which took down all the remaining planes and helicopters that had somehow survived that first strike. Aboard Prince of Wales, Admiral Wells got conformation of the sinking of those three ships, his jaw tight.

“Victorious reports four Sea Harriers ready with Sidewinders for close in defense, and two F-35’s in an hour,” said Hurly, his faithful adjutant. “Captain Kemp tells me we now have six fighters on deck in Sundog Flight, and ready for operations. We’ll have a dozen more still rearming.”

“Thank you Mister Hurley. Please have the Captain put out a fleet wide message. All ships to assume a heading of 058 degrees northeast, and make your best speed. We’ll not linger here. The fleet will move to support the Victoria landings, and if the Chinese want to follow us out into the Deep Blue, we’ll carry on.”

It was stiff upper lip, as might be expected of a British Admiral, but the fact that the fleet was being horsewhipped and relentlessly driven east was evident to all, if unspoken. Things were bad, but they were going to get much worse, and Wells could feel the pressure mounting.

The Chinese were still pursuing, and at good speeds as they attempted to bring their frigates and the trailing groups in the line into range. At 12:15, some of those groups, led by Jinlong, (Golden Dragon ), began firing salvos of YJ-18’s at the retreating British ships. DDG Lightning was the first to feel their wrath, bore sighted by a string of 16 Sizzlers. The ship still had Asters, but with targets moving that fast, and maneuvering, they would have to empty the barn.

The missiles raced in, the Asters speedy enough to catch them, and the defensive missile stream was slowly eating them up—but they just kept coming. There were still six more at the tail end of the missile train, and the ship was down to its last four SAM’s. Two of those six Sizzlers were going to get through, and that would end the career of yet another Type 45. Lightning would sink at half past noon.

Type 23 Class frigate Sutherland had been 16 miles ahead of Lightning, running for all she was worth at 34 knots. Then the Captain and crew saw a train of eight missiles coming for them, and with SAM’s dry, it was down to guns and chaff. It seemed as though the frigate was doomed, but to the amazement of the crew, they saw the demons tip nose down and knife into their boiling wake. It was their speed that saved the ship, for the enemy had fired at extreme range, and the missiles simply ran out of fuel. The margin of safety had been slim, just five miles being the space between life and death for the ship and every soul aboard.

Yet the measure of life granted them was equally brief. At 12:33, another series of eight YJ-18’s locked on to Sutherland and this time they had the energy to ride its wake all the way to the ship. Elation would soon turn to utter misery. The frigate blazed away with its Gatling guns, got two of the eight, and then the rest stormed in to blast Sutherland from the sea. Only three men would survive.

Next it was Gloucester’s turn on the hot seat, with eight more Sizzlers storming over the horizon. The destroyer had 52 Sea Darts in the magazines, but could only fire them in pairs. The first four YJ-18’s were hit and killed, but the number five missile skewered the ship, damn near blowing the entire aft section of the destroyer apart.

The enemy was slowly killing one ship after another as the British fleet fled northeast, and Admiral Sun Wei was beaming ear to ear with the news when his radar crews would confirm those kills. The death of Type 26 Class frigate Coventry was the last for that action, all but eliminating every ship that had sailed with HMS Vengeance. Admiral Wells now had 2500 souls in the sea to try and save.

The Royal Navy was bleeding out, having suffered the loss of fifteen warships since the opening of hostilities in the Med. Of those, eleven had been killed by the dread YJ-18, which was proving to be a war winner for the Chinese Navy. The British had nothing to match it, and very little that could kill it when it was out on the hunt. That made for the painful loss of so many proud ships, and the men and women who served on them. Helicopters would flutter off the decks of the two carriers to save as many as possible, but Admiral Wells’ worst fears had come home to roost on his bridge.

As Admiral Sun Wei gloated over his rather decisive victory, he was now to be reminded of the uncertainty and danger inherent in every moment of war. There had been two Astute Class attack subs attached to the fleet, and instead of running escort, they had moved out towards the enemy, sailing right across their line of advance. Moving fast and deep at 32 knots, they were able to get into position to attack as the churning ships above pressed home their pursuit.

Anson and Howe bore the names last hung on a pair of King George V Class battleships from the WWII era, and now they were Britain’s most stealthy and dangerous attack subs. They had crept into the heart of the Chinese advance, like wolves stalking a fold of sheep, and they were completely undetected.

Anson had taken position just north of the Chinese Golden Dragon Group, composed of Type 55 destroyer Jinlong, a pair of Type 052D destroyers, Chaowu and Kangji, and the Type 054A class frigate Sanya. The British Captain on Anson had a famous name, Francis Drake, and he was perfectly cast for this part, an undersea pirate of the highest order.

Drake was using the new Advanced Common Combat System, which was integrated with all the boat’s sensors and sonars to track and process its firing solutions. The first torpedoes, the heavyweight Spearfish, were not even seen by the enemy until they were just three miles out, and they were coming at 80 knots. The Chinese ships had no weapon capable of targeting the torpedoes. Steaming at 30 knots, all they could do was turn and scatter in a desperate effort to evade the enemy lances.

Kanji had launched its ASW helo, and then turned completely about, the water surging about the ship, as it ran due west. Seconds later, the first spearfish hammered its sister ship, and Chaowu was gutted by a big explosion, the watersplash rising high above the mainmast. Three more Spearfish were hot in the turbulent wake of the Golden Dragon, which was now racing southwest with Sanya. The three torpedoes were just too close, and neither ship had the ghost of a chance at evading them, or surviving this attack.

The Chinese helo had deployed dipping sonar, at last getting a general idea of where the British sub was. In desperation, Jinlong fired an Asroc YU-7 torpedo at the fleeting contact, which would put it very close to Anson, forcing the sub to cut the wires on its torpedoes and run.

“Decoys!” said Captain Drake. “Come to 270 west and dive. All ahead flank!”

“Two-seven-zero and diving, sir.”

“Make your depth 780.”

Anson had fired while at 420 feet, and was now trying to disappear into the Deep Blue, still quiet as a mouse, even when running all out at 32 knots. It left a pair of decoys behind it as the nose of the sub tipped downward, hoping to fool the pursuing YU-7 torpedo.

“Conn, Sonar—three explosions.”

That was Chaowu, Jinlong, and Sanya, all going down that hour when the 300KG warheads in the Spearfish broke their backs and opened their hulls to the sea. Anson dove, knowing an enemy torpedo was in hot pursuit. Sonar reported it tracking true, then thought it was circling a moment before tracking true again. Then the sound of the torpedo was completely lost. The YU-7 Asroc had very little fuel, which is why it had to get quite close to its target to get a hit. In this case, the torpedo had run out of energy after 4 miles. It had come to within 2000 meters of the British sub, then died….

A fourth explosion reported by sonar made for a clean sweep, and in that single hot minute, HMS Anson had avenged the terrible losses just suffered by the British. It took a minute for Captain Drake to realize what he had just accomplished. They had even bested the remarkable attack that had been made by HMS Triumph in the Med, when Captain Peter Hill had scored three hits on a Chinese TF.

“My god,” said Drake. “We’ve buggered them good.”

“Torpedo in the water!” There was no time to celebrate.

“Come right, and circle to 130 degrees southeast. Ahead flank.”

Anson danced in the deep, another YU-7, this time off the hunting helicopter, was now hot in its wake, but the quick maneuver had confused it. The torpedo lost contact, circled, reacquired, and started its attack run. But the British sub had put on speed, and it would evade this lance as well, by the narrowest margin.

The British sonar was now tracking three more Chinese ships, all coming up to assist their stricken comrades. Word of the attack was flashed to every ship in the fleet, and Admiral Sun Wei was red faced with anger. He knew he had made the same mistake as his comrades had made in the Med.

Fools rush in, he thought, and then issued a fleet wide order for all ships to post ASW patrols, with pickets assigned to sprint and drift, and advancing ships were to take evasive maneuvers and alter course immediately. It was the old zig-zag, not as viable a tactic as it had been in WWII, but better than simply rushing ahead in his mad pursuit of the British carriers.

The fourth ship Anson had hit was the Type 052D class destroyer Kanji, but it had only been damaged. Now it was turning for Mombasa as it fought to control flooding, escorted by the frigate Weifang. That effort would fail, and Drake would later learn that Kanji would capsize and sink enroute, making his attack a perfect four for four.

It was a spectacular success, completely disrupting the entire southern arm of the Chinese fleet. With four ships sunk and three more rescuing survivors, it had taken seven Chinese ships out of the fight, and Admiral Sun Wei had already detached four ships that had exhausted all their SAM’s in the fight, sending them home. This had reduced his fleet from twenty ships to nine, and now he gave orders to reduce speed, post ASW patrols and consolidate his remaining force.

When Admiral Wells received the report on the exploits of HMS Anson, he was very gratified. “Finally something the navy got right,” he said to Captain Kemp.

“That bloody well evens the score, sir,” said Kemp.

“Perhaps,” said Wells. “Honor is assuaged, if nothing else. Any word from Howe ?”

“There was no report in the last fleet update cycle,” said Kemp.

“Well let’s hope she’s lying low and still in the hunt.”

HMS Howe was indeed lying low, but she was not in the hunt any longer. The sub lay broken and lost, found by two Z-9 helicopters off a destroyer she had been stalking, Yingshen, the Eagle God. The attack sub had crept into the midst of the Chinese fleet, picked that target, and then sonar was unable to process a good firing solution. The boat hovered, trying to resolve the contact, but the alert put out by Admiral Sun Wei had been taken to heart. The destroyer immediately launched a helicopter, and dipping sonar had found Howe just six miles off the port side of the destroyer.

Needless to say, the Eagle God turned and ran, and also launched a second helicopter. In the ensuing game of cat and mouse, the mouse lost this time out, and a torpedo sent Howe to the bottom, her hull crushed and broken, over 11,000 feet deep.

Built just after Anson, it was the first boat in the class whose name did not begin with the letter A, and some said that would be bad luck. In fact, it was the only sub that had violated that unwritten rule in any submarine class still active in the navy. Others had said that modifications to the design of the sub actually warranted giving it a new class, and making it the lead boat in that instance. Two others were being built, and to reinforce this notion, they were to be named Holland and Hood, after two other famous British Admirals.

Wells would not get confirmation on the loss for some time, his mind now firmly focused on matters at hand. He had turned his back on the Chinese, and seen them claw at him as he withdrew, at great cost. The loss of Vengeance and her escorts still burned, but he subdued his emotions, and looked to the day ahead. He launched the last of the three planes in Sundog flight to take up the early warning watch. The ship had Merlins for AEW, but they were nowhere near as good as an F-35.

“Captain, our oilers are trailing behind, so I’ll want them covered. Launch six more fighters for that watch. Then I think we should try and dissuade the Chinese from making any further advance. We’ll move to the Tomahawks now. Target their leading ships.”

“Right, sir.”

Wells was thinking he would have liked to storm out after them with his fighters, but they had all rearmed with meteors for a defensive role. They can see where we’re headed, he thought. They must know that we’re going to take the Seychelles from their greedy grasp, but if they come any closer, they would have the landing ships in missile range of those YJ-18’s. So in spite of my urge to use the carriers offensively, I think it remains wise to keep the fighters in a defensive role. We’ve already lost too many ships in this fight, and SAM’s are running thin.

So what is this Chinese Admiral thinking?

He’s now 700 miles east of his supporting airfields and harbors in East Africa. His force has been attrited, as ours, but he still represents a powerful threat, and as long as he stays there, with those ports to sustain him, nothing can move round the Cape for the Middle East. All shipping is being held in South African ports until this issue is resolved, one way or another.

There were only three ships left in his task force that had missiles able to reach the pursuing Chinese ships. They were Dragon and Daring escorting Prince of Wales, which each carried Multi-Mission Tomahawks, and then Argos Fire, which still had 32 Long Range ASM’s. The shot he had just ordered over his shoulder used up 16 Tomahawks, without any confirmed hits. That now left him with a total of 64 missiles that he could use in any ranged combat with the enemy. After losing the TF Vengeance, he also had 64 Naval Strike Missiles, but the fight would have to be inside 100 miles for those.

We carry on, he thought. We cover the mission to occupy the Seychelles, and make that a Royal Navy base for the duration of this bloody war. I can only imagine what the headlines on this scrap will be like in London tomorrow. We’ve just had our Isandlwana here, but by God, Anson has given us our Roark’s Drift.

Chapter 11

Captain MacRae might have known what Wells meant with that thought, as he had been explaining it all to Elena just before they suddenly found themselves literally swallowed by the famous hill of Isandlwana, which delivered them right into the history he had been pontificating on.

The battle had been a disaster, but the heroic defense of the mission and supply station at Roark’s Drift, where 120 men held off 4000 Zulus, was trumpeted by the London press. The government lavished Victoria Crosses on more men than in any other battle in British history. Would Anson’s stunning reprisal be enough to tamp down the hue and cry over the losses the fleet had sustained?

The blow had been a hard one, but Admiral Wells pressed stoically on towards his objective at Victoria, and every mile the Chinese fleet followed him took them further from their support bases in East Africa.

If you were to ask someone where the Seychelles were, they might respond that you could find them on many beaches, thinking you had asked about sea shells. The islands were nearly a thousand nautical miles from East Africa, and seldom in any news cycle. That was the way the locals liked it, living their quiet lives on a little island paradise… until war came.

The Royal Marine landing on the main island of the Seychelles at Victoria would be swift and painless, or so it was believed. The country had no military to speak of, a force of about 400 men tasked with maritime security and anti-piracy operations. Their “order of battle” included six BRDM-2 APC’s and six M-43 82mm Mortar Carriers, all unserviceable. Their lone RPG-7 rocket launcher wouldn’t work, nor would any of the SA-7 Strela air defense missiles. Their navy had a handful of small patrol boats donated by other countries, and their air force had eight planes, mostly for maritime patrol, with no combat role. The single battalion they fielded included a few troops of the so called Barbaron Commandos, but on the 20th of November, at the appointed time of 20:00, they were scheduled to make the acquaintance of real commandos, Number 47 Commando, the Royal Marines Raiding Group.

The threat to the landings would not come from the locals, but from the Chinese. Intelligence had discovered that, as with many of their bases, the Chinese had placed SAM and SSM batteries on the islands. These batteries had to be destroyed before the Royal Marine Commandos could go in, and they would be the primary targets of the remaining TACTOM missiles in the opening duel for possession of Victoria.

Frigate London would pound the SAM sites, but in the resulting counterattack, the YJ-12 Coastal SSM’s would put a missile into that ship, and add to the heavy losses already sustained. As a last hurrah, the Chinese had a pair of Type 22 missile boats in the harbor, and the crews were running along the quays to get to them and cast off as the air raid sirens wailed. Before they could reach their boats, they heard the roar of missile engines, and saw two Tomahawks come racing in over the water to strike their war steeds, and blow them to smithereens.

It was a small consolation for the loss of the Type 26 Frigate London, the ninth warship lost in this battle, but Wells saw it as the fortunes of war. He might have used his Tomahawks at greater range, but the fact was that the YJ-12 could reach out 215 miles, and both sides had been in range of one another for many hours as the fleet approached the Seychelles. The Chinese fired their last two SSMs, hit nothing, and that little disagreement was now over. The SAM’s had been destroyed, and the way was clear for the helicopters to start bringing in the Marines.

47 Commando was part of the British 3 Commando Brigade, and the landings would be led by the 539th Raiding Squadron, and then followed up by Number 4 and 6 Squadrons off HMS Albion and HMS Bulwark. Knowing the British were going to the Seychelles for a good reason, Admiral Sun Wei ordered the last two J-31’s there to rig out for an air ferry operation to Mombasa. The three helicopters at the airfield had come off a ship to get there, but none had the range to reach the African coast, and so they would be prizes of war.

The night raid was therefore underway right on schedule, at 20:00, and it would not be opposed. The helos thumped in, moving quickly to the airfield where they would find no more than 60 Chinese military personnel who were there as service crews for the few planes that had been operating from the island. These men surrendered without a fight, for they were not soldiers and had no combat training at all.

Thirty minutes after the landings, the Commandos radioed Prince of Wales that the Union Jack now flew over the harbor and airfield at Victoria. The island had first been discovered by the British East India Company in 1609, and had been claimed by both France and Britain over the next 200 years, while largely remaining uninhabited. It had gained independence in 1977, but now the British were back, and the main island would be declared a protectorate for the duration of the conflict… spoils of war.

By the time he had consolidated his scattered fleet, Admiral Sun Wei had ten destroyers, including three Type 055, and two frigates. All the other frigates, and the two fleet oilers, had been sent home to Mombasa and Dar es Salam. He stood on the bridge, arms folded on his chest as he thought.

We have done well, he mused. Tactically, our ships defeated the British with little difficulty. Their opening strategy of using their fighters to strike us with small munitions was a good one, and it drained many SAM’s from the targeted ships. After that, I knew I had to get inside 300 miles, and engage immediately with our YJ-18’s. This forced the British to use their fighters defensively, but our attacks were so strong that we hurt them very badly. Now I, too, can claim that I have sunk an enemy carrier. Were it not for that unfortunate submarine attack, our victory would have been overwhelming, in spite of the loss of our base in the Seychelles. All things considered, this is victory, without question, and the loss of the Seychelles is of little consequence.

Now I sit 700 miles from the African coast, and the British are moving northeast. I will not catch them, and they have opened the range between our fleets to over 300 miles. So I will sail to Andrakaka harbor on the northern tip of Madagascar. It is just 300 miles to reach that port. There my ships can refuel, and rearm with any missiles in the ammo bunkers.

One salient fact remains—they could not defeat me, nor could they force my withdrawal further north towards the Arabian Sea as was undoubtedly their plan. So as long as my fleet remains here, the sea lanes to the Middle East are closed. The only route they have now is through the Pacific, and that will likely be the focus of future operations here. Yes, soon the Americans will appear, and then we fight the real battle for control of these waters. I must be ready, and with everything we have.

When Admiral Wells was informed that the Chinese fleet had turned away south, he breathed a sigh of relief. They must be low on fuel and munitions, he thought, and they are a long way from home, as we are. Yet this is far from over. They are heading to Madagascar, and that alone is revealing of their intentions. They want to get into port, refuel, and sortie again as soon as possible. I was remiss in not making sure that port at Andrakaka was destroyed. We focused on the airfield, but not the port, and that was a mistake. Tomorrow will be a day of rest for all sides in this dirty business, but soon we will meet them again, and we are much weaker now than when we sailed so proudly from Port Simon at Cape Town.

The losses hurt—a carrier, three destroyers, four frigates, and one very valuable submarine. Yes, the news on Howe was most discouraging. I’ll be writing and signing letters home from now until New Year’s. This is one of the hardest blows the Royal Navy has ever taken. We lost 13 ships in the Battle of Medway in 1667’s, and ten ships off Toulon in 1744. Here I’ve gone and lost nine… Whale Island may very well want my head on a platter when they hear about this. But I must look to the days ahead, as my great Grandfather would have done.

What to do?

First things first. I must get the fleet provisioned, and now that we have taken the harbor and airfield at Victoria, I can put in a request for an emergency airlift here from our bastion at Diego Garcia. It’s a long thousand mile journey there that I can ill afford at the moment. I must remain here, keeping my enemy close, instead of my friends, and anything they could lift out here would be most welcome.

Victorious has six older Sea Harriers, and I’ll transfer those to the airfield at Victoria. They should not be bothered by enemy fighters out here, and they can use their short range missiles for defensive purposes in the event the enemy sends cruise missiles against this base. I’ll post a Merlin Crow there as well, and we’ll leave the other helos for the Commandos. I think it wise that I also leave a pair of F-35’s. They make superb radar pickets, and if the enemy comes this way, I plan on using them to good effect.

As for the fleet, we will reorganize. I’ll want Victorious right off my starboard side. We will no longer operate as separate task forces. The remaining frigates will form an inner ring, tasked primarily with carrier defense, such as they might provide. The destroyers form the outer defense ring, and god be with them. Anything they fail to knock down may well blow right through the frigates, but it will at least be tried by their guns before it can get to a carrier. I’ll still have five destroyers and five frigates. The carriers can fly 32 fighters, so we’re still in this fight, one way or another.

Oh yes… Anson is still out there somewhere, a ghost in the stream. Sir Francis has done his job well, and knowing he’s out there is good for morale. Given all this, how should we proceed? The original plan of clearing the Chinese from their East African bases has simply gone down with all our ships. The enemy was much stronger than we realized, and we had deficiencies that the navy has overlooked for years. I think I must strongly recommend that we completely overhaul our frigates. As presently designed, they are useless. Reliance on the old Type 42’s is also questionable. The Sea Dart is obsolete, and cannot perform against the threats we now face. All we are doing with those ships is putting good men and women in harm’s way.

So by now I should be well on my way to Diego Garcia, but any move there will leave a strong enemy fleet sitting astride my communications back to Cape Town, and closing the sea lanes I was sent here to open. Now I have but two viable options. I could sail west, threatening the Chinese bases in East Africa, which is one of my principle objectives. That would draw the enemy fleet north from Madagascar to oppose me, but it would also allow them to use whatever air power they have in east Africa.

I don’t like it.

Option two is to head due south and throw down the gauntlet again against this Chinese Admiral. I would stay well east of Madagascar, which then takes their East African air power out of the fight. I suppose they might try hopping it over to the island, which means I would need my Tomahawks to finish the job on those bases. Yes, that sounds like my best play. It’s either that, or I must fall back on Diego Garcia, which any sane man would do after the beating we just took. But no, I won’t slink off and lick my wounds. Very well, I will inform Whale Island as to my intentions, and unless I get countervailing orders, we move as soon as we have provisioned.

They were as ready as they could be. The emergency airlift from Diego Garcia to Victoria had brought in much needed supplies, and they helped themselves to diesel fuel in Port Victoria. Now it was time to move south and find the Chinese Fleet. It was a very big ocean, and the Merlin Crowsnest AEW Helo had but a 200 mile radar range, so Wells decided to use his F-35’s to form a forward radar picket as before. His first order of business was making sure the Chinese could not ferry air assets to the other bases in Madagascar, and for this he planned another surprise Tomahawk strike. With a 1600 mile range, they could fly paths to avoid the suspected position of the enemy fleet, and then turn to strike the bases from an unexpected direction. It would keep them well out of range of the enemy SAM’s, but the only rub was that the actual position of the Chinese fleet was as yet unknown.

DDG Daring had 16 TACTOM’s, and frigate Birmingham was an experimental configuration of a type 23 for land attack, carrying 24 more TACTOM’s in a Mark 41 VLS Bay. That put 40 arrows in the quiver of Admiral Wells, and he started using them at 06:00. Some would inadvertently fly paths that took them too close to the Chinese, and would fall victims to their HQ-9’s, but this only served to clue Wells as to the location of the enemy ships.

Only two were shot down, revealing the enemy position, and nine more swept south then cut across the wide rugged island of Madagascar heading for Narinda Bay on the east coast. They were completely undetected, hugging the terrain as they came in, and began striking targets all over that airfield. The communications jamming station the Chinese had set up was destroyed, and the aircraft hangars damaged and set on fire, destroying two rare J-11 fighters and a Z-8 helicopter. Four missiles targeting the west coast base of Toamasina hit the runway access points and naval docks. When it was over, nothing could fly from either airfield, and Madagascar was neutralized as an operating base for the foreseeable future.

So the second round has begun, thought Admiral Sun Wei. They have tested me, and most likely localized my position when we took down those two cruise missiles. And they are once again attempting to ruin our bases on Madagascar. My problem now is that I do not know where they are. I have two submarines picketed 125 miles to the north, but they report nothing. The base at Andrakaka is still not functional, and so I can only wait for satellite reports.

Yet there is one thing more I might do… Our planes in East Africa are 700 miles away now, but what if I called for a J-10 to mount nothing but reserve fuel, as if for a ferry operation. It could come out here, and linger for some time, using its radars like an AEW plan to help me locate the British fleet.

It was an excellent idea, and so he ordered the field at Dar es Salam to send one fighter due east, and another to move to Narinda Bay and see if the condition of that airfield permitted a landing. The first would get to a position 250 miles northeast of his fleet when it came under attack by enemy fighters and was destroyed. It was a callous thing to do, ordering that lone pilot out into harm’s way like that, but it had at least given the Admiral some clue. The British had to be operating further east of the point of that interception, though he was still in the dark as to exactly where.

This British Admiral learns quickly, he thought. He is staying far from our East African bases, denying me air cover and useful reconnaissance. Finding his ships may not be easy this time, as the YJ-18 is somewhat particular on downrange ambiguity when it comes to targeting. I cannot kill what I cannot see, but I must assume the enemy is already one step ahead, and knows exactly where I am….

Chapter 12

The Admiral was struggling to forge the first link in his kill chain, find the enemy, and the loss of his J-10 told him this battle may not be easy. At 12:45, radar reports began to slowly get traces of enemy ship contacts. They had a lot of uncertainty, but over the next few minutes, those rectangles compressed to a point some 330 miles due east of his position. He could see two British helicopters were up, one very near the surface contact group, and another midway between his ships and the enemy. In his mind, he could hear the blacksmith hammering on that first link. Now was the time to test those contacts, and see if he could get a target solution with a long range YJ-100.

Sun Wei waited, and finally locked on, sending two YJ-100’s off the Type 055 destroyer Nanchang. If he at least got them close to the target, the screening ships would have to respond, which meant they would go to active radars. That could help him further refine his contacts. At 500 miles an hour, his missiles would be 15 minutes getting to the enemy, but Sun Wei was a very patient man.

As it happened, the two F-35’s on radar picket had gone bingo fuel, and were already heading back to the carrier. So when the Merlin AEW helo picked up those two Vampires, Admiral Wells also collected some good intelligence. The enemy had turned on a heading of 90 degrees, and now he had fired two missiles…. So he at least had the scent, and was probably trying to flush out the quarry with this small jab. He would order Captain Kemp to send up the next two F-35’s and deal with the missiles before they got close.

Flight Whalesign 3 was up a minute later, and winging its way west. It took three Meteors, but the two planes dispatched those YJ-100’s easily enough, spoiling Admiral Sun Wei’s plan.

Frustrated, the Admiral signaled Dar es Salam to send two J-20s and a KJ-200 AEW plane. That at least had the range to get out here, and it could post itself right behind his ships, well within their protective SAM envelope. With drop tanks, those J-20’s could also reach his fleet, then he would be prepared to order them to use their radars to nail down the enemy location, and this time, if the F-35’s interfered, his Falcon Eagles could fight. He ordered his fleet to come ten degrees right, and all ahead full.

Admiral Wells now contemplated his options. With every fighter still armed for air superiority and missile defense, he had no air strike card to play at this hour. But he had three ships that could fight at this range, which was just under 300 nautical miles. He knew his enemy would soon be coming into range with all their YJ-18’s, and seeing that they had increased speed to 25 knots made him feel like a horde of enemy cavalry had just gone from a canter to the gallop. The only thing preventing them from firing now, he knew, was that they may not be able to get good target locks this far out.

But I can fire with Daring, Dragon, and Argos Fire. I could put 45 Sea Hawks into the sky, our handle for these newly acquired American missiles. And Argos Fire could put 40 Long Range ASM’s out there, another gift from the Yanks. Thank God someone is building missiles with the range to actually strike an enemy. Yet as before, this would be my only long range throw. Should I pile on, and try for a few kills to shift the odds my way before they can counterattack?

He simply had to try.

A barrage of 33 Sea Hawks veiled the seas with smoke as they began launching from the two destroyers. Half way through their flight track, Argos Fire would put 20 LRASM’s out after them. They had the targets fixed on radar from two F-35’s and the Merlin helo. At 15:10 the alarms were sounding on the Chinese warships as the first group of Tomahawks started training in. Jammers on all twelve ships began wailing, and the fire control computers started processing target locks.

With three Type 55 destroyers, and five Type 052D’s, the Chinese fleet was a very powerful surface action group, with tremendous air defensive capability in all the HQ-9’s those ships were carrying. For the next ten minutes they engaged the Vampires, slowly chewing them up. In two instances, it came to close range missiles and guns, but the defense prevailed. Sinking a ship in a force that well protected was no easy task. Wells had to throw more than half his total long range missile inventory, and still came up empty.

“Backstand, Whalerider 3. Looks like they have a KJ-200 coming up behind the sea toads. Over.”

“Roger Whalerider. Standby.”

Just after the standing F-35 patrol reported that AEW plane arriving, things got wild. The two J-20s Admiral Sun Wei had ordered also arrived, one to the north of the Chinese fleet, an done to the south. They continued east, widely separated by over 100 miles, and the northern plane was planning to shoot down the only enemy aircraft they could see, the Merlin AEW helo. What they could not see were the two F-35’s in the Whalerider picket, which each put Meteors in the sky after that bogie.

When they fired, the Chinese planes finally saw them on radar, and the northern plane engaged, while the southern plane stayed the course east, activating its long range radars that could finger the seas 200 miles out. Admiral Sun Wei was now inside 300 nautical miles, spoiling to counterattack, and he was counting on that single plane to paint his targets.

The British saw only the northern bogie, but when it was identified as a J-20, it was enough to prompt an immediate scramble order from both Victorious and Prince of Wales. The flights had been spotted on deck, ready to go, and the pilots were giving the deck crews thumbs up as their engines revved. Sundog flight would again take to the skies off Prince of Wales, and Skybolt flight off Victorious, each with six planes. They would race west, the mission being fleet defense, because Admiral Wells smelled an attack coming. That lone J-20 in the north was 185 miles out, but it could have seen the fleet easily on radar. He had to assume that his position was now known to the enemy, and that it might be solid enough to prosecute. The northern bogie was found and destroyed by those meteors, and seconds later, they saw the other J-20 on radar.

“Gentlemen,” said Wells to the bridge crew. “We’ve been found. The fleet will prepare to repel enemy attack—battle stations all around.”

“All ships in range,” said Admiral Sun Wei, “fire YJ-18’s!”

His brave J-20 pilots had delivered the goods.

The Chinese fleet was coming in three waves of four ships each, the first two waves being all destroyers, the last having two frigates and two older destroyers. The first wave, led by Nanchang, had no less than 100 YJ-18’s to throw, and it targeted virtually every ship in the British fleet with four to eight missiles, 52 in that salvo.

Seeing this was his supreme moment for action, Admiral Sun Wei was going in hard. His second wave had 64 YJ-18’s, and they put out enough to increase the total attack to 100 missiles. Wave 3 ships were held in reserve.

The word came loud and hot from the forward radar picket. “Backstand, Whalerider. Bigstorm… Gorilla, Gorilla. Inbound now! Over.”

Bigstorm was improvisation on the pilot’s part, but the code Gorilla was milspeak for a large, undetermined hostile force. Wells knew exactly what it must be, and raised a finger to Captain Kemp.

“Go get them, Pete,” he said, his eyes hard and determined.

“Right sir!”

That sent down the order for all ready flights to launch in defense of the fleet, and Whalerider would be calling the tune to coordinate the interception.

There were now two dozen F-35’s up off those carriers, and they were carrying 96 Meteors in their weapons bays. Two of them would get that last J-20, effectively blinding the Chinese fleet again, but their missiles had already been programmed, and they were on the way in.

The fighters could see them coming on radar, and moved to engage. They sent their Meteors out hunting, seeing the explosions down low on the sea as they began to get hits, but the kill ratio was far less than hoped for. Sundog and Skybolt were only able to get 14 kills, still leaving 86 Vampires for Saber and Seabat flights in the second line of defense. They would do just a little better, getting 26 kills as the cruise missile storm closed to within 100 miles of the fleet. The fighter defense had knocked down 40% of the incoming vampires, but that still left 60 missiles out there looking for targets.

All the Royal Navy ships now turned on their radars, and as it happened, it was the American built ESSM that had been a special buy for Prince of Wales that locked on first and fired, when the Vampires were about 20 miles out. Admiral Wells was watching on radar, seeing a group of seven missiles accelerate for their high speed run, and jog left, away from the fleet. They had lost their targets, and seemed off on an aimless hunt for steel on the sea.

The remainder tracked on in, their target data now being updated by that KJ-200, which had finally gotten in range. The battle opened in earnest, the speed demons raging in, the British destroyers throwing everything they had at them. At 16:15, four Vampires came lancing in towards the heart of the fleet. York was able to get two of them with Sea Darts, and an ESSM off Prince of Wales got a third, but the last was too quick, streaking right past the bow of York, and finding the frigate Lancaster, which was cruising just a little over a mile off the starboard bow of Prince of Wales. There were groans when the frigate blew up, all of its useless Sea Ceptors just sitting there in the VLS cells, never able to fire.

For the next three hot minutes, the defense held, the missiles finding and killing the Sizzlers as they broke the horizon. Where there had once been blue sky, the sea was now hazed over with a grey-white cloud of smoke, which erupted with yellow flashes as the missiles found their targets. Broadsword was in the thick of things and getting many kills, the one new Type 31 frigate on hand, also built with the ESSM.

It was a white knuckled affair as Wells watched the Vampires raging in like Zulus against those four brave destroyers holding their thin red line, but this was not to be a debacle the likes of Isandlwana. The defense was holding, getting one kill after another, though it came to guns and chaff on more than one occasion. The last three ready fighters on Prince of Wales screamed off the deck, hoping to get their Meteors into the fight. They roared out to get after the final four missiles, killing two just as they were starting their high speed run. The last two came right at Daring, but the destroyer still had Asters, and swatted them down.

As the thunder of those last two explosions faded, Wells breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, he had lost another bloody frigate, but he had just enough of a defense left to hold the line, and now those 40 missiles that had been killed by the F-35’s before the YJ-18’s entered their final mad dash truly mattered.

“Tell the fighters to get that bloody AEW plane out there,” he ordered. “Boats away for search and rescue on Lancaster. Captain Kemp, what have we got left that can reach the Chinese?”

“Just twelve Sea Hawks, sir, and twenty SSM’s in the Argos Fire.”

“Let them fly. Let’s see if we can put them on the defensive, and buy some time to get fighters rearmed. How many planes are ready?”

“Only three, sir. The rest will turn over in a couple hours.”

“Very well. I’ll want a report from all destroyers on SAM counts.”

That was the crucial factor now in the mind of Admiral Wells—defense. How could he stop the bleeding, the loss of one ship after another? It would not take long to get that SAM update, and the news was grim. Daring had 15 Aster-30’s remaining, and Dragon only four. Broadsword had eight ESSM’s left. The two Type 42 destroyers still had plenty of Sea Darts, but being rail launched missiles, they could not volley fire like a VLS capable ship. That was a thin shield, particularly given the alert at 16:30 that the enemy had launched a second strike. Wells learned that only Argos Fire had any substantial defensive capability left. In modifying the ship, Fairchild & Company had doubled down on the VLS bays, so it still had 77 Asters available.

Commander Dean got the order to take Argos Fire west of the main fleet, and form a single ship screen. The carriers had but four fighters ready, but they would launch. These measures had to be enough, thought Wells. We simply cannot suffer any further losses here, and after this engagement, I must think on how to get this fleet to a safe harbor.

At 16:45, a lone F-35 had been given direct orders to ignore the incoming Vampires and forage ahead on military speed to get the Chinese KJ-200. It raced west, easily finding the AEW plane, and put two Meteors on it to end its brief watch. It was a very significant blow, because small circles of uncertainty now appeared around the last reported positions of all the British ships. The second enemy strike still had 42 missiles inbound, but now they had lost their long range radar picket, and the missiles would only fly towards the last reported position of their targets until they got close enough to use their own short range sensors.

When Wells learned the AEW plane had been killed, he clenched his fist, hoping he might have finally blinded the Chinese Fleet. Were there any more J-20’s about? If so, none had been detected in the last twenty minutes.

The air alert sounded. The first Vampires began to break the horizon. The last of the F-35’s exhausted their missiles to take down as many as they could. It was now 37 Vampires against whatever was left in those VLS cells, and much would ride on the Argos Fire, along with that ghost of a chance that the enemy may have lost their target fix. As the Vampires tracked in, many were north of the fleet, but some were close enough to turn and retarget. The SAM’s were leaping off every deck that had them, but the defense was just not good enough to stop a pair of leakers from getting past the destroyers. They found the frigate Birmingham, and Prince of Wales, their tails bright with fire as they attacked.

A hail of gunfire failed to stop them, and Admiral Wells felt his flagship shudder with the hit. Seconds later, he saw the Birmingham simply explode in ruin.

Fire, death, more blood in the sea, and another ship ravaged and sent to the bottom. Birmingham would die a quick death, consumed by flames, but at over 65,000 tons, Prince of Wales had weathered the blow she took. Damage was moderate, and flight operations would be inhibited, but that didn’t matter at that moment. The carrier would not have planes ready to fly again for a little over an hour, and that hour now meant everything.

The fleet still had Sea Darts in good numbers, but only 19 SAM’s of any other type that might kill a YJ-18. There were still two of the original five frigates alive, and they each had 32 Sea Ceptors that might defend against slower moving missiles. It was a critical situation that saw the fleet on the razor’s edge of oblivion. Wells knew that the only thing saving them for the moment was the fact that their enemy could no longer accurately fix their position… but that could change.

The Admiral shook his head, knowing deep down that the Royal Navy had been beaten here. It took every fighter we had to defend the fleet, he thought. They got over 50 kills on those incoming Sizzlers, and I can only imagine the havoc that would have reigned if those fallen missiles had been out there to come at us. I was lucky here to get off just losing the two frigates that went under. Prince of Wales is wounded, but still alive, yet she can only make 20 knots. We must disengage immediately, but can I find a safe port?

This is going to be a near run thing….