Joint Operations

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The stars had already faded by the time Ishi Zhaolong started his morning routine. He trotted across the flight deck, heading for the starboard torpedo tubes, his maintenance instructions in his hand.

The cargo area, he reminded himself. Not a flight deck — not on this ship. At least not yet. Soon enough.

The eighty-four-thousand-ton ship had spent the last four weeks at sea, transiting the Pacific Ocean from her home port in Guaydong Harbor to this point two hundred miles due west of Hawaii. So far, other than the warmer weather and the afternoon rains that were becoming predictable, one piece of ocean looked pretty much like the next.

Still, the warmer weather was a relief. It was hard enough to maintain the illusion of being a merchant ship, doing maintenance on the aircraft hidden beneath the massive metal shrouds, keeping the rest of the flight deck in decent condition, conducting the covert weapons drills and emergency drills that were part of life at sea — and all while pretending to be a normal merchant ship.

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