The
A series of thunderous explosions ripped through the calm seas and eight orange-yellow fireballs rose to the skies in quick succession, visible for kilometers around. By the time the noise dissipated away, seven columns of black smoke were rising.
The
The
Behind the line of gutted and sinking major warships, two other fleet support ships were also gone and a massive thunderclap announced the death of the fleet’s resupply tanker as it exploded into pieces…
To the northwest, the
Four of the incoming six Moskits had been engaged and destroyed by the ship. One more fell to close-in guns moments before the last Moskit had ripped through the hull. The
The surviving Indian sailors were jumping overboard from the burning hull just as Sea-King helicopters from the other ships of the group began arriving over the horizon.
Within the hour the bow of the
“I don’t
He stood there, his arm quivering with rage as his palm tried to crush the phone. He turned around to see Chen walk into the center, returning the salutes from several mid-grade staff officers. The General’s orderly took his uniform overcoat and peak-cap and left the room.
Chen walked over.
“What’s the situation at Golmud?” he asked just as Feng released the phone from his death-grip and took a deep breath.
“
“Conventional unitary warheads?” Chen asked.
“Have to be,” Feng replied. “That garrison commander saw mushroom clouds for sure, just that they weren’t nuclear detonations. I told the General to get me in touch with that garrison commander at Golmud. I just got off the phone with him.”
Chen nodded and both men walked out of the conference room into the main center. It was lined with rows of communications gear and map displays on the walls. The room was occupied with more than two dozen air-force officers as they controlled the large scale PLAAF operations. Right now, the center was filled with the cacophony of an air-force headquarters in chaos attempting to regain control of a fast deteriorating war.
Normally Feng and Chen would be at their Chengdu-Lanzhou unified MRAF center, controlling a curious mix of tactical and strategic operations that such large regional commands entailed. For now, however, Wencang had asked them to operate from here now that the war had stopped being tactical. Feng regretted his loss of tactical control of the units in theater. But he also understood that he was needed here now.
“What’s the tactical situation out there?” Chen asked. “Who has operational airborne control?”
“That’s what I am trying to find out right now. 26TH Division headquarters say that they have lost all contact with their detachment at Golmud,” Feng noted as he crossed his arms.
“That’s not surprising, is it?” Chen said dryly.