Red Hammer 1994

Secretary of Defense Matthew Alexander was a fifty-year-old financial wizard who had made his mark in the dog-eat-dog world of computer chips and electronics. From his corporate suite, he had fought his bitter enemy the Japanese to a standstill and eventually emerged victorious. A series of deft strategic alliances had actually recovered market share in semiconductors for his shareholders, and he had successfully lobbied Congress to relax antitrust laws and greatly increase government research and development spending. After such stunning success, fingers began to point his way. He was already a CEO, a well-paid one at that, but he wanted a new challenge. Another firm, even larger, would be more of the same, and exercised stock options had made him a very rich man. So he looked to public service to put meaning into his life.

The secretary was a simple man who purchased his suits on sale and lived in a modest two-story home with his wife in Falls Church. He deliberately avoided the Washington social circuit and spent his off time with his one remaining son. The other two children, a boy and a girl, were long gone, with families of their own. His wife thought him handsome with his combed-back, thick silver hair and high cheekbones; others called him distinguished. The universal descriptor was gentleman. Thomas considered him first-rate, a man of honesty and integrity.

Alexander swung left to face Thomas. “Sounds like a plan. See what you can do.” He glanced at his watch. They were running late. It was time for Secretary Alexander’s weekly intelligence brief and staff meeting. This one promised to be interesting. The Russians were frantically searching a wide swath of ocean southeast of the Kurile Islands, and the consensus pegged the lost prize as a missing Delta IV ballistic-missile submarine—one of the Russians’ frontline jobs. And one of the few still operational after years of neglect.

Thomas walked side by side with Alexander to the his personal conference room. They filed in to discover a full room with several new faces. The usual attendees came in various shapes and sizes and were the direct-report under and assistant secretaries, with a sprinkling of military men. The civilian dress ranged from the rumpled college-professor look for the older technical types to the younger men and women in expensive suits. There was little middle ground. When Alexander took his end seat, the chitchat ceased.

“Let’s skip today’s intel summary and get right to the Russian search and rescue (SAR) effort,” said Alexander, counting noses.

An invited guest, an admiral from the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, rose and introduced himself then stepped to a large map of the Pacific theater, hanging on the wall next to the entrance. He patiently waited for the private discussions to end. Everyone had their own spin on the incident, even before they had all the facts. The admiral’s delivery was even and tempered. Funny, Thomas thought, how they all sounded the same when they briefed, including himself. Alexander nodded the go-ahead, and the show began.

“Two days ago, the Russians began sending Pacific Fleet units to this area here,” the admiral said, tapping on the map with a pen. “At first we thought one of their bombers had gone down, like that Bear H that caught a wingtip and cart-wheeled into the drink two months ago. But the op tempo rose as the week progressed, and we have just received word that they have gotten a submarine rescue vessel underway from Petro.” The private whispers started again.

“We’re convinced now that one of their boats went down. If we’re right, a Delta IV SSBN is resting on the bottom somewhere east of the Kurile chain, chock-full of SS-N-23 ballistic missiles. The water is too deep for an attempted rescue but not too deep for surveillance of the wreckage or a possible recovery of debris. We have unconfirmed reports that the Russians have already contacted the French about purchasing deep-water salvage equipment, including a side-looking, high-frequency sonar. We’ve offered assistance, but they turned us down cold.”

The admiral’s last remark brought sustained laughter. “Our response has been twofold. First, we dispatched fleet units to monitor Russian SAR operations. USS Texas, a cruiser, was detached from Battle Group Echo. Coming from due east will be USS Los Angeles, a 688 class boat, currently on patrol near the Aleutians. Hopefully, Texas will draw all the attention and allow Los Angeles to slip into the area undetected. During a recent overhaul, she received a new, experimental coating over her entire hull and a sonar upgrade. She’s ideally suited for this operation.