Counter Strike (Command and Control Book 2), page 1
COUNTER STRIKE
DAVID BRUNS
J.R. OLSON
COUNTER STRIKE
Copyright © 2021 by David Bruns and J.R. Olson.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Severn River Publishing
www.SevernRiverBooks.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-64875-179-0 (Paperback)
ISBN: 978-1-64875-180-6 (Hardcover)
CONTENTS
Also by Bruns and Olson
Special Audible Deal
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
DAY ONE
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
DAY TWO
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
DAY THREE
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
DAY FOUR
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
DAY FIVE
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
DAY SIX
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
DAY SEVEN
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
DAY EIGHT
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
DAY NINE
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
DAY TEN
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
AFTERMATH
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Sample of Next Book in Series
ORDER OF BATTLE: Chapter 1
ORDER OF BATTLE: Chapter 2
ORDER OF BATTLE: Chapter 3
Also by Bruns and Olson
Acknowledgments
About the Authors
ALSO BY BRUNS AND OLSON
The Command and Control Series
Command and Control
Counter Strike
Order of Battle
Threat Axis
Never miss a new release! Sign up to receive exclusive updates from authors Bruns and Olson.
severnriverbooks.com/series/command-and-control
Click HERE to add Audible Narration of Counter Strike
Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd’st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep,
O hear us when we cry to thee
For those in peril on the sea.
—The Navy Hymn
1
White House Situation Room
Washington, DC
The White House Situation Room smelled of tense bodies and stale coffee. The sharp tang of disinfectant from the cleaning crews that came through every eight hours had long since dissipated.
Don Riley, Director of the CIA Emerging Threats Group, stood at the lectern at the head of the room watching the live feed from a high-altitude surveillance asset over the South China Sea. The weather in and around the Strait of Taiwan in February could be fickle, but they had excellent viewing conditions for the final hours of the People’s Liberation Army annual war games.
The view screen showed dozens of Chinese warships. Don counted three aircraft carriers, at least fifteen escorts of various classes, amphibious landing ships, and a handful of surfaced submarines.
And they were all headed in one direction: back to port.
Just a few days ago, Riley had made the bold prediction that the worldwide attacks on the United States over the last twelve months had been nothing more than an elaborate deception by the Chinese government. Their goal: to overextend the US military and reposition her forces away from the South China Sea.
Away from the island of Taiwan.
For most of the world, modern-day Taiwan was a jewel in the western Pacific, a place where democracy flourished and capitalism defined the very character of the people.
But for the People’s Republic of China, the island was a renegade province and a burr under the saddle of the Chinese Communist Party. Over decades China had developed the military and intelligence capabilities to bring the wayward province back under Beijing’s control. In recent years, the Chinese leadership had made it clear that they intended to repatriate the wayward island of Taiwan. It was not a question of if, but when.
Don gripped the side of the lectern. From this very spot, he had convinced the President of the United States that China was about to make good on their long-standing threats.
President Rick Serrano let out a sigh and sank back in his chair. Like everyone else in the room, his features showed the strain of recent events.
“Well, Mr. Riley?” he said quietly. “What do you think? Have they gotten the message?”
Don took his time answering the question. Before discovering the Chinese deception, the United States had been on the verge of launching an attack on the Russian Federation, an action that almost certainly would have sparked World War Three. At the literal last minute, Don finally put together the pieces of the Chinese deception and convinced the President to call off the attack.
But discovering the Chinese plot and stopping the Chinese plot were two very different problems.
“Take your time, Don,” the President said, subtly reminding Don that he was still waiting for an answer.
Don had no intention of saying anything until he was ready. If the last few weeks had taught him anything, it was that he needed to speak his mind. Even if the President of the United States didn’t exactly want to hear what he had to say.
“I think we did it, sir,” said General Nikolaides, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. “Sneaky bastards realized we were on to them.”
“I agree, sir,” said Secretary of Defense Howard.
The President ordered the Situation Room cleared of all but principals on the National Security Council. Don was also directed to remain, both as briefer and as a key adviser.
Don sensed the relief in the air, felt the tension bleed away minute by minute as the PLA Navy moved further from the island of Taiwan.
He tried to put himself inside the minds of the Chinese decision-makers. An invasion of another territory, especially one as desirable as Taiwan, was a risky venture. The Chinese Communist Party was a famously risk-averse body. Unless they were supremely confident in the outcome, they would not green-light the military action.
The start date of the PLA war games, an annual exercise designed to demonstrate Chinese military strength, had been shifted to just before the Lunar New Year. Today, the last day of the exercises, fell on the first day of the national holiday.
Don accepted the premise that the PLA would use the war games as a cover to mobilize troops for the invasion. He studied the screen. All the PLA ships were headed back to port. Away from Taiwan.
Maybe our plan worked after all, he thought.
The hard part about discovering the Chinese deception was not the diagnosis, it was the cure. The National Security Council had deliberated long and hard over how to prevent the Chinese invasion.
A public warning, it was decided, would only send the Taiwanese—not to mention the rest of the world—into a panic. It was feared that the ensuing chaos might cause the PLA to abandon subterfuge and launch the invasion immediately.
Likewise, a private warning to Taiwan would have the same effect. The Taiwanese government was riddled with Chinese operatives.
There was one military move that would send a clear message to Beijing. The USS Enterprise carrier strike force, currently on station near the Bering Sea, could be ordered back to her home port of Yokosuka, Japan. Unfortunately, the disengagement process with the Russian Eastern Military district had turned into a stalemate.
To counter the delay in the North Pacific, the President announced that the USS Abraham Lincoln was detaching from the strike force in the Arabian Sea and relocating to Seventh Fleet in Japan.
“If we think we’re out of the woods, sir,” Secretary of
“I agree, sir,” National Security Advisor Valentina Flores said.
Hahn and Flores formed an unlikely pair. The Secretary of State’s calm, measured tones contrasted with Flores’s rapid-fire Cuban-accented English, but as a team they served their president well.
Serrano’s first instinct was to dispense with the long-time US policy of strategic ambiguity regarding Taiwan as a way to warn China against aggression. He reasoned that making clear the consequences of any Chinese military action would deter the aggressor. The Flores-Hahn team convinced their boss that such clarity was more likely to force a confrontation than prevent one. It helped that they had fifty years of history on their side of the argument. Serrano reluctantly agreed.
There were some obvious actions taken to enhance US readiness. An increase in the cybersecurity threat posture and prepping offensive cyber packages were go-to moves for this type of scenario. The teams at US Cyber Command and NSA were primed and ready to launch.
And then there were the outside-of-the-box options. Way outside of any box Don had ever heard of.
Don was assigned as the CIA liaison for a privateer operation run by Sentinel Holdings, a private military contractor. His contact with Sentinel had only been through secure videoconferences, but he was assured that their operation was ready to go on the President’s order.
Without discussion in the full National Security Council, President Serrano ordered immediate deployment of the USS Ohio and Michigan. Both were former ballistic missile submarines, now designated as SSGNs and converted to carry special operations forces as well as over 150 Tomahawk cruise missiles.
While the President obviously had the authority to make such an order, it seemed odd to Don that he would do so without the recommendation of his Secretary of Defense.
Just another detail lost in the mix, Don thought. One of a thousand decisions. Not everything needed to be talked to death.
“The Chinese New Year celebration begins at midnight, Mr. President,” Hahn said. “I think that we can safely say the Chinese have rethought any plans for hostile actions against Taiwan.”
Serrano squinted at the wall screen. All of the PLA Navy forces had crossed the line on the chart that signified a return to Chinese territorial waters.
“I still don’t trust those bastards,” the President said. “I’ll feel better when we have the Enterprise strike force back in Japan. Where are we with the Russians, Kathleen?”
The Secretary of Defense’s face attested to her frustration. “Every time we reach a drawdown agreement, the Russians end up throwing a wrench in the works, and we’re back to square one, sir. It’s been a process.”
Serrano scowled, then shifted his gaze to the far end of the table. “State, where are we with a list of US citizens on Taiwan?”
Hahn hesitated. “It’s a tricky situation, sir. We’ve been able to work with the airlines, so we know who has flown to Taiwan over the past few weeks, but as far as an accurate count, that’s not possible. If we press the Taiwan government for answers…” He let his voice trail off.
“I know, I know,” Serrano said, with an unusual flash of annoyance in his voice. “We risk spooking the Taiwanese if we ask too many questions. Damned if we do, damned if we don’t.”
Don knew that thanks to the One China policy enacted in the 1970s, the United States didn’t have an embassy in Taiwan. Instead, diplomatic ties with the island were maintained by a private corporation called the American Institute of Taiwan.
“Sir, I urge patience—” Hahn began.
“Enough,” Serrano snapped. “We’re dealing with an adversary that is responsible for the deaths of American citizens. I realize we’re working for a greater good here, but do not speak to me about patience, Henry.”
“Yes, sir,” Hahn replied.
“What else can go wrong?” the President asked. “Anybody?”
“The weather report shows a tropical storm moving in, Mr. President,” Don said. “That will reduce our electro-optic satellite capability for the next forty-eight hours.”
“Perfect.” Serrano narrowed his eyes at Don. “You never answered my question, Mr. Riley. Have the Chinese backed down?”
Don hesitated. “I’m going to offer a cautious yes, Mr. President. It appears that our actions had the desired effect.”
Serrano stared at the wall screen. He caught the edge of his lip with his teeth and worried at the flesh.
“I hope you’re right, Mr. Riley.”
2
Port of Keelung, Taiwan
Raymond Hseih was a man who did not like change.
He had been married to the same woman for thirty-two years, during which time she had prepared him the same thing for breakfast every single day: rice congee with sweet potato and strong green tea served piping hot. He had read somewhere that American tech CEOs in Silicon Valley ate the same meal every day because they wanted to reduce the number of decisions in their lives. Raymond ate the same thing every day because he liked it.
Although he was fluent in English and liked to read American business magazines, he had never left his home island of Taiwan on a vacation—and never intended to, either.
Raymond had worked for the Port of Keelung for the last twenty-seven years. He was proud of his work history. After starting as a junior analyst in the scheduling department, Raymond had slowly climbed the promotional ladder to the lofty position of night shift manager on the outer harbor. He knew every aspect of the cargo-handling operation. From the maritime scheduling software that planned the ship arrivals to the massive gantries that removed the cargo shipping containers to the dispatch program that queued up the trucks to move the containers off-site, Raymond knew them all.
He piloted his Toyota Corolla Altis along the outskirts of the inner harbor of Keelung. A cruise ship, blazing like an enormous holiday decoration in the dusk, was getting underway with the help of a pair of tugs. The harbor on the northern tip of Taiwan had grown over the years from a ferry and cargo terminal to a massive complex that included cruise ships, ferries, two cargo terminals, and piers for Taiwanese naval ships.
Raymond had been there for every expansion. The outer harbor cargo terminal where he worked was where the huge container ships and the massive RO-ROs, roll-on/roll-off ships for cars and trucks, docked. The outer harbor had four berths for the big ships, but they were hardly ever all occupied at the same time.
He patted the leather bag on the seat beside him. Inside was a thermos of green tea, a Fortune magazine in English, and a book of Sudoku. Everything he desired for an uneventful night. The Friday night before the Chinese New Year holiday was bound to be boring.
He rounded the last curve before the outer harbor and nearly drove his car into the water.
