Klara went in for a hug, allowing Lars to comfort her, and also giving her a moment to contemplate where this left her.
After dinner, she told Lars, “With everything going on, I think I need to go home and notify members of the Baltic Resilience & Renewables Initiative of the recent events on Gotland. I probably should also run some damage control, so people won’t back out of my Baltic Wings Festival.”
Lars was concerned, but he understood and offered to walk her to her apartment.
Once she arrived, she opened her laptop and began to create an encrypted document. Klara began making a list of “suspicious things” that she had noticed about the Chinese investors and NGO members that were a part of her recent tour of Gotland. In the document, she noted how she’d worked with groups like this in the past, so she hadn’t initially thought anything of it, but with all that had happened, now it seemed like some of the things they’d done might be a part of something bigger. She noted how they were trying to get too close to military lines when touring the Tofta Solar Pilot Site, and how they were asking too many questions about the military presence on Gotland.
Klara didn’t give this log of events to her boyfriend yet, but she decided to keep it in her back pocket as a “get out of jail free” card just in case she got questioned. If asked why she’d waited, she could claim that she didn’t want to seem racist, so she was waiting to gather more information, but ultimately she became scared of what might happen if she unwittingly aided in this heinous act.
After mulling over her details and editing her document into a polished gem, Klara went to sleep. She rested peacefully in the knowledge that if she had to turn in a few Chinese operatives and burn them, she would do so, saving years of work with the Russians.
“Contact bearing two-four-five, twenty-three kilometers. MV
“Captain, escorts have been spotted. Radar signatures confirm one ROC
Captain Shen Tao acknowledged with practiced calm, his fingers tracing the outline of the sealed envelope beneath his uniform. Inside were Admiral Deng’s orders and the personal guarantees his crew and officers wouldn’t be hung out to dry should things not work out the way the politicians intended. In a calm yet firm voice, he asked, “Distance to inspection zone boundary?”
“Eight kilometers, Captain. They’ll cross it in approximately twelve minutes at current speed,” confirmed Lieutenant Commander Zhu.
The South China Sea stretched impossibly blue through
Shen turned to Lieutenant Commander Zhu. “I’m headed to CIC. You have the bridge.”
Zhu acknowledged as Shen made his way to the combat information center. As he passed through the hallways into the guts of the ship, he saw his sailors moving about, attending to their duties like nothing was happening. They were calm, prepared and ready for whatever was about to happen.
“Captain entering CIC,” announced one of the enlisted sailors as Shen entered the darkened room. He saw a large digital map of the area displayed on one giant monitor. Another showed the air space around them, while a third tracked potential undersea threats.
Seeing his XO, Commander Gong Jun, Shen ordered, “Give me a status report on the squadron disposition.”
Commander Gong acknowledged, directing his attention to the monitor that showed the tactical display of their current disposition. His ship, the
