CARRIER 8: ALPHA STRIKE By: Keith Douglass

boxes and survival equipment that would be placed on the rock with them looked

pitifully small. He’d been told that there were enough concentrated rations

in one box to feed the five men for two weeks, long enough for the resupply

crew to get to them. Beside that box, a tarpaulin to provide shelter from the

sun was rolled into a compact cylinder. A few blankets, some rudimentary

radio equipment, and a water-distilling pump completed the loadout. And the

Stingers–the all-important Stingers. It was the last item that completely

blew the team’s cover story of establishing a fishing camp.

Better you than me, he thought. The battle for ownership of the Spratly

Islands, according to his superiors, required establishing a presence on the

desolate rocks that composed the South China Sea chain. This outpost would be

left on a patch of barren igneous rock that was barely bigger than his Zhuk.

For not the first time, the Vietnamese navy lieutenant gave thanks that he’d

joined the right branch of the military. While navy units might ferry the

occupation teams to the rocks, standing presence duty in the South China Sea

was solely the province of the Vietnamese army.

“All is ready, Captain,” his phone talker said, relaying the words he

received from the other talker on the fantail.

“Very well. Just a little more light, and we will make our approach.”

Getting close enough to unload the men and equipment into the small boat that

would take them to the rock would be tricky. While the waters were well

charted, and his GPS equipment gave him an accurate fix on his own location,

too much could always go wrong. Navigating around rocks and shoals in his

thin-hulled patrol craft would be safer when his lookouts could see what some

lazy cartographer might have overlooked.

Ten minutes later, his forward lookout reported that visibility was

clearing. The lieutenant moved back inside the pilot house.

“Take us in, Ensign,” he ordered. The younger officer nodded.

“Engine ahead one-third,” he said firmly.

The lee helmsman echoed the command, and the steel deck began thrumming

as the powerful diesel engines that drove the two propellers increased speed.

“Come right, steer course 005,” the ensign ordered. The small craft

heeled slightly to the right.

A few minutes later, the ensign said, “There it is, sir.” He pointed to

a barely visible rock projecting from the sea.

“Very well. Let’s get on with it.”

In response to the ensign’s orders, the men on the fantail moved over the

side into the Rigid-Hull Inflatable boat tethered to the ship. The RHIB,

pronounced “rib,” was a mainstay of many naval services. Since it could be

deflated, it saved on precious storage space. The outboard motor could drive

it through the ocean at far greater speeds than the hull could withstand, so

it took careful handling to avoid overturning it.

The young captain of the patrol boat, preoccupied with off-loading his

passengers and their equipment, had even less warning than the tank commander

had. He saw motion on the horizon and reached for his binoculars. Seconds

later, the missile slammed into the patrol boat, impacting amidships at the

waterline after cutting through the RHIB and her crew.

The missile penetrated completely through the patrol boat before it

exploded. The blast disintegrated the entire midsection of the boat, driving

a rain of steel fragments through every other part of the interior. Metal

shredded flesh, killing most of the crew instantly. The explosion cracked the

hull in half, broke the keel, and peeled the weather decks away from the

supporting framework of stanchions and strakes. The warm sea poured in

The fire had just enough time to ignite the small arms ammunition and the

Stinger missiles before the sea claimed the boat and crew.

Monday, 1 July

0900 local (Zulu -8)

Operations Center

Hanoi, Vietnam

The two men were alone in the conference room, as alone as possible in

the former Communist country. “What are the Americans thinking?” Ngyugen

hissed. “To invade our waters, destroy our islands–it is war!” The

Vietnamese ambassador to the United Nations seemed to swell up with

indignation, which was part of his standard repertoire when talking about the

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