Eagle Station

Up to a few months ago, information gathered by America’s network of radar, spectral imaging, and signals intelligence (SIGINT) reconnaissance satellites could have painted a clear picture of the PRC’s current force structure in the Paracel Islands. Now those satellites were gone — systematically destroyed by an armed space station, Mars One, that the Russians had rapidly and secretly deployed into orbit. Although a daring and desperate spaceborne commando attack had succeeded in capturing Mars One, it had come far too late to save any of the U.S., allied, and commercial surveillance satellites in low Earth orbit.

Dvorsky knew replacements were being lofted into space, but that was a slow and extremely expensive process. Spy satellites were essentially handcrafted, painstakingly assembled by specialists with intricate precision. So it would be years before America and her allies regained full global situational awareness. Until then, they were forced to rely almost entirely on whatever imagery could be collected by astronaut crews aboard the captured Russian space platform, now designated Eagle Station. The trouble was Eagle’s orbital track allowed only occasional observation of limited swaths of the world as it swung overhead… and its movements were predictable. Hostile powers like Russia and China could easily conceal or camouflage anything they wanted to keep secret before the space station came into view.

Which left old-fashioned reconnaissance by aircraft and ships as the fastest and most efficient means of intelligence-gathering left to the United States. Hence her orders to carry out a “freedom of navigation” operation right past this heavily fortified Chinese island base. Of course, pushing in up-close-and-personal like this could be dangerous, especially against adversaries with itchy trigger fingers. Back during the Cold War, before the advent of satellites, nearly forty U.S. aircraft on intelligence-gathering missions were shot down by Russian and Chinese fighters and antiaircraft weapons. And no one in the U.S. Navy could forget the fate of the USS Liberty, accidentally bombed and strafed by Israeli jets during 1967’s Six-Day War, or the USS Pueblo, attacked and captured by North Korea in 1968.

Well, Dvorsky thought, she sure as hell had no intention of being caught off guard by any level of Chinese reaction to this unannounced intrusion into what they considered their own territory. She turned to the boatswain’s mate standing next to the controls for the ship’s 1MC public address system. “Sound general quarters.”

Shrill warning horns sounded throughout McCampbell. Her crew, briefed thoroughly during the run-up to this operation, rapidly and efficiently donned their protective gear and then headed for their battle stations.

On the bridge, Commander Dvorsky finished putting on her own anti-flash hood and gloves. With a nod of thanks, she took the Kevlar helmet a young sailor offered. “Okay, everyone stay sharp,” she said firmly. “Now let’s go see what our pals from the PRC are up to out here.”

People’s Liberation Army Navy Garrison Command Post, Yŏngxīng Dăo (Eternal Prosperity Island)

That Same Time

Navy Captain Yang Zhi studied the televised pictures of the two American warships as they turned north toward the island under his command. The images came from a small Yinying or Silver Eagle drone flying less than two kilometers from the lead ship, USS McCampbell. It had been shadowing the enemy vessels for more than an hour, ever since the Americans steamed past a floating surveillance platform anchored at Bombay Reef, on the outer edge of the Paracel Islands Defense Perimeter.

His jaw tightened. This sudden northward turn plainly signaled the U.S. Navy’s intention to violate China’s territorial waters. These so-called freedom of navigation operations were a constant irritant — proof that the arrogant Americans did not see the People’s Republic as an equal. In the past, the PLA Navy’s own warships would have harassed them, crossing their bows at high speed and maneuvering close alongside to force the intruders to alter course… or risk collision. But for some unfathomable reason, his superiors in the South Sea Fleet had recently recalled the pair of Type 052 Luyang II—class guided missile destroyers that normally patrolled these islands. By now those ships were rocking uselessly at anchor at Zhanjiang Naval Base, more than five hundred and fifty kilometers to the north. And before the Luyangs could return, the Americans would be long gone.