Chapter 131: The British and French Urgency

The inspection lasted until 4 p. m. Chen Feng inspected the drilling platform, the refinery equipment, and the workers' dormitories and mess hall. As he was leaving, he said to the project manager:

"Build another school, covering elementary through middle school. Build another clinic, staffed with two doctors and four nurses. The money will come from the special fund."

"Yes!"

On the return special train, Chen Feng finally had time to deal with the backlog of telegrams. Wang Bo handed over a folder, the top document marked "Urgent".

"From London," Wang Bo said, "Admiral Berkeley Milne, commander of the Yingguo Mediterranean Fleet, will visit Dubai on July 6."

Chen Feng raised an eyebrow: "A visit? Or pressure?"

"The telegram says 'friendly visit'… but the timing is very convenient."

"What about the French?"

"A detachment of the Faguo Indochina Fleet is sailing from Saigon to Singapore. It is expected to reach the Strait of Malacca on July 7."

Chen Feng smiled: "They're all looking this way."

He opened the second telegram, the first report sent by U-3.

"At 0300 today, passed the entrance to the Gulf of Aden. Observed one Yingguo cruiser (believed to be Banshee-class), heading northwest at fifteen knots. No contact with us."

"At 1000 this morning, cruising at periscope depth in the middle of the Red Sea. Observed three Faguo merchant ships, all flying the Marseille flag. No warships."

The telegram ended with a line: "All crew are in good condition, equipment operating normally. Expected to enter the northern mouth of the Suez Canal at dawn tomorrow."

Chen Feng handed the telegram to Liu Yongfu: "Our submarine performed well."

Liu Yongfu read it, then furrowed his brow: "President, letting the submarine go through the Suez is too risky. If the Yingguo catch it…"

"That's why we used the Greek company's name," Chen Feng said, "And U-3 is taking the night route; I've already arranged things with the Canal Authority. As long as nothing goes wrong, it will be in the Mediterranean in twenty‑four hours."

"What if something goes wrong?"

Chen Feng looked out the window. The setting sun was sinking behind the dunes, staining the sky a blood‑red.

"Then consider it tuition," he said, "But we can't hide in the Persian Gulf forever. One day our ships will have to sail all the world's oceans. If we don't even dare the Suez Canal, what are we talking about returning home?"

The carriage fell silent. Only the clatter of wheels on rails rang out, regular and heavy, like a pendulum counting down.

On July 4, Chen Feng "returned" to Dubai.

But he didn't go straight to the administrative building; he went to the newly completed third submarine base. The base lies in a hidden bay south of Muscat; from land it looks like ordinary fishing villages, but underground a cavern capable of housing twenty submarines has been excavated.

The base commander is former Restoration Ship deputy captain Zhang Haitao, thirty, an outstanding graduate of the first class of the Naval Academy. When he showed Chen Feng around, his tone was full of pride.

"Cavern One is already in use, able to service four submarines simultaneously. Cavern Two will be completed by the end of the month, Cavern Three starts construction next month. Once all are finished, this will become the largest submarine base in the Persian Gulf."

Chen Feng entered the cavern. Inside the space was huge, the concrete arch ceiling twenty meters high, rows of explosion‑proof lights mounted on the walls. Six U‑shaped submarines were docked side by side, and workers were replacing batteries on two of them.

"How's the battery endurance?" Chen Feng asked.

"New lead‑acid batteries, fully charged can support underwater travel for sixty hours. At an economical speed of four knots they can cover two hundred forty nautical miles," Zhang Haitao said. "We are developing lighter silver‑zinc batteries; if successful, endurance could double."

Chen Feng walked to a submarine and patted its cold steel hull.

"What about its silence?"

"That's the part we are most proud of," Zhang Haitao said, having an engineer bring out the test record. "Our U-3 registered only eighty‑seven decibels in the last test."

Chen Feng nodded, then asked, "What about the torpedoes?"

"Our self‑developed 'Jiaolong‑1' thermal torpedo, speed forty knots, range eight thousand meters, warhead two hundred kilograms of TNT. It's a bit inferior to Germany's G7 type, but sufficient."

After touring the cavern, Chen Feng went to the command center. There was a huge Mediterranean sea chart, already marked with U-3's planned route.

"Latest update," the communications officer reported, "U-3 passed the southern section of the Suez Canal at 0400 today, encountered no inspection. It is now cruising the middle section of the canal, expected to enter the Mediterranean at 2000 tonight."

"The Canal Authority didn't suspect anything?"

"No. Our cover identity is 'deep‑sea research submarine of the Greek Ocean Research Institute,' and the voyage plan reads 'Red Sea to Mediterranean marine biology survey.' Moreover…" the communications officer smiled, "We gave the canal director a private five‑thousand‑pound 'research sponsorship fee.'"

Chen Feng also laughed: "Money can move gods."

He walked to the chart, staring at the small magnet representing U-3. The magnet was slowly drifting north, updating its position every four hours.

"Send it a message," Chen Feng said, "After entering the Mediterranean, carry out the reconnaissance mission as planned. Pay special attention to the Yingguo 'Dauntless' battleship—intelligence suggests it may have already departed Portsmouth."

"Yes!"

On July 5, the tension in Dubai reached its peak.

The Yingguo consul Howard came three times in one day, and the Faguo consul Dupont came twice. When the two ran into each other in the administrative building's reception room, the scene was quite awkward.

"Mr. Howard, what a coincidence," Dupont said in French, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"Mr. Dupont also came to gather information?" Howard's English was courteous, but his eyes were sharp.

Wang Wenwu was in charge of receiving them, and each time repeated the same line: "The president is indeed on inspection; perhaps the oil pipeline has a technical issue and he won't be back for a while."

"Then when can he return?" Dupont pressed.

"Earliest tomorrow, latest the day after tomorrow."

"We can't wait that long!" Howard uncharacteristically lost his composure, "London needs a clear answer—where does Lanfang stand?"

Wang Wenwu smiled: "Consul, Lanfang is a neutral country. We stand on none of the sides, only on our own side."

That line was taught to him by Chen Feng.

At three p. m., an even more dramatic event occurred. The envoy of the Osman Diguo governor in Baghdad suddenly arrived in Dubai. The envoy, named Ali Pasha, was a sixty‑something Turkish elder who spoke a little English.

"We want to buy ships," he went straight to the point upon meeting, "Two cruisers, as soon as possible."

Wang Wenwu invited him into the small conference room: "Mr. Pasha, which model would you like to purchase?"

"The type you sold to Chile, the Dauntless class," Ali Pasha said, "but we don't want one that big—something smaller, capable of operating in the Mediterranean and the Black Sea."

Wang Wenwu felt a stir. The Osman Diguo and Italy were confronting each other in North Africa (the Italo‑Turkish war would break out in a few months), so buying warships now made the intention obvious.