“Too small. American CAP and surveillance aircraft all accounted for.”
“Shut down automated air defenses,” Ji ordered.
“Aye, aye, sir!”
“Is that wise?” Feng asked.
“We’re just wasting ammunition.” Ji turned around. “Damage control. Report.”
“Sir, damage control reports—”
Another alarm screamed.
Dozens of red blips suddenly appeared beneath the
“Contact bearing 173, distance, 1,000 meters!”
“Contact bearing 238, distance, 950 meters!”
“Contact bearing 049, distance, 1,200 meters!”
“Contact bearing 313, distance, 800 meters!”
The ship’s captain called out, “Emergency flank speed!”
The other officers called out their status reports, but Ji ignored them. His eyes told him everything he needed to know.
“Torpedos?” Feng cried out. He was sweating despite the room’s low temperature.
“Too slow,” Ji said.
“What then? Submarines?”
Another dozen red blips appeared as the others drove toward the
“No.” Ji’s calm demeanor masked his grave concern.
Feng’s eyes grew as wide as boiled eggs. “The Americans have infected our computers!”
The commander in the chair next to Feng ran the ship’s IT systems. “Negative. All computers are functional, no viruses detected.”
Another alarm sounded. “Surface contacts, bearing 040, 122, 274!”
“I don’t like this,” Feng squealed. “We’re vulnerable.”
Ji called over to the mission-control officer. “Put the Wu-14 online. Make all necessary preparations for an immediate launch.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
SIXTY-SIX
Troy, the Wu-14 is online!” Ian’s brogue thickened on the comms as his adrenaline kicked in. “The bot is active. Repeat, bot is active!”
Troy felt his blood pressure drop. Whenever extreme danger arose, his body always responded by slowing down. It brought him a preternatural calm, one of the reasons he was so effective in combat.
The third software bot that Pearce told Ian to plant in the Wu-14’s onboard computer lay dormant until now. It was the only way to guarantee it couldn’t be detected until this point. Now that the Wu-14 and the mission-control station on board the
A video screen above the mission-control officer’s head displayed the Wu-14 on its mobile launcher at Ningbo.
“All systems go. You have operational control, Admiral.”
Feng dashed over to Ji, grabbed him by the arm. “Are you mad? We’re vulnerable. We should retreat.”
“We’ll never have a better chance than this,” Ji said. “The Americans will be better prepared next time.”
“They appear to be prepared for us now. I order you to retreat.”
Ji’s mouth thinned. “A gutless mouse. I should’ve known.”
“Don’t be foolish. There’s always another day—”
WHAP! Ji backhanded Feng across his jaw. The minister yelped, grasping his bleeding mouth with both manicured hands.
“Throw this coward into the brig!” Ji commanded.
Two armed guards grabbed the whimpering politician by his arms. Feng cried out as he was dragged out of the CIC, “He’s a madman! Turn around before it’s too late!”
“Where’s the
“The
“Are they launching more aircraft?”
The officer glanced at his monitor. The
“They’re holding so far.”
Ji took a deep breath. The Americans were hesitating just as he predicted. They were fearful of provoking his own powerful fleet. Fortunately for him, the
SIXTY-SEVEN
Prime Minister Ito’s situation room was modeled on the American one, though its video displays and electronics were superior. One of the large video displays was linked to American satellite feeds of Ningbo naval base, and a second featured a live video link to the
A third video monitor was used for a live video conference feed between Ito and his cabinet with President Lane and his circle of civilian and military advisors back in Washington. Other video feeds showed the