Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 06

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Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 06 Page 19

by Fatal Terrain (v1. 1)


  “I believe you’re right, Muck,” Elliott said. “The PLAN is attacking us!”

  “The signal thresholds are too low,” Vikram said, still confused. “Call up my sigma-echo screen and look for yourselves. They can’t possibly have a lock. ”

  “I say we’re an item of interest, and we’re allowed to use all weapons to defend ourselves,” McLanahan said emphatically. “We need to shut down those radars. Stand by for bomb bay missile launch, crew, twelve Rainbows.” McLanahan designated the targets for the anti-radar cruise missiles: the carrier, the northern destroyer, and four of the seven guided- missile patrol boats that were transmitting anti-ship missile-targeting radar energy. “Doors coming open, crew.” He hit the command button and spoke: “Launch commit Rainbow missiles.”

  WARNING, LAUNCH COMMIT TWELVE BOMB BAY TACIT RAINBOW MISSILES, the computer reported, then entered a launch hold.

  “Launch,” McLanahan commanded. The launch hold was cleared, and the crew felt the rumble of the fibersteel bomb doors retracting inside the bomb bay; a few seconds later, the noise was gone. “All Tacit Rainbows away,” McLanahan reported.

  As they dropped clear of the bomb bay, the AGM-136 Tacit Rainbow cruise missiles, each about six feet long, a little more than a foot in diameter, and weighing less than a thousand pounds, deployed short stubby wings and horizontal and vertical stabilizers and descended toward the sea. As they got closer to the surface, they activated their turbojet engines, increasing their speed to over 300 miles an hour, and leveled off at 500 feet above the sea. One missile’s engine failed to light off despite dozens of automatic relights, and it glided for another nine miles before hitting the ocean and breaking into pieces. Another missile, performing its automatic self-test, determined that its navigational and sensor accuracy was not within its standards; it performed a systems reset, still found its systems faulty, then automatically performed a suicide dive straight down into the rock-hard sea.

  One by one, the missiles took up five-mile-long figure-eight orbits at its assigned patrol point, took a GPS satellite fix to nail down its navigational accuracy, and activated its passive electronic sensors. The frequency and pulse rate of every signal received was instantly compared to signatures in their computer memories, and if it matched, the missile immediately began homing in on the signal. Each missile would then instantly report back to McLanahan by datalink that it was locked on.

  “All surviving Rainbows tracking,” McLanahan reported. “I’m sending a couple back into their orbits.” Several Rainbows had locked onto the same radar, so McLanahan had to divert a couple of them back into patrol racetracks so he didn’t waste any missiles. “Looking good, guys.”

  ABOARD THE CHINESE CARRIER MAO ZEDONG

  “Interceptor Group One ready for launch, sir,” the officer of the deck reported.

  “Very well,” Admiral Yi responded. “Have Interceptor One establish a high combat patrol at the last known—”

  Just then, they heard a loud booom! roll across the sea. Yi ran over to the port rail and saw a cloud of smoke coming from the destroyer Kang. “Something hit the Kangl” the lookout shouted. Seconds later, another loud explosion rang out, and Yi watched in horror as a piece of the Mao's Kilo-band fire-control radar for the SA-N-9 antiaircraft missile system crashed to the deck just aft of the bridge. Seconds later, another loud explosion rattled the ship. “Smoke coming from the Kangl Looks like he took a missile hit! ”

  “Never mind the Kangl Get me a damage report on my ship! ”

  The phone from Engineering rang just then, and the OOD took the damage report: “Kilo- and Ku-band fire-control radar array and X-band targeting radar for the Granit missiles hit, sir,” the officer of the deck reported. “No casualties, no injuries. The flight deck is clear.”

  Thank the stars, Yi murmured to himself. Yi had never before been in combat—he had been based ashore during the Philippine and Vietnamese naval conflicts—and the speed of the attack, combined with the sudden realization that this big high-tech steel ship was vulnerable and they were very far from friendly shores, was beginning to invade his consciousness, replacing pure, abject fear with all other thoughts about his crew and his ship. “Very well.” He slammed that phone down and picked up the one to his Combat Information Center. “Combat, bridge. Status report.”

  “SA-N-9 antiaircraft system is down to optronic guidance only,” the combat officer responded. “Granit targeting system is degraded. We can tie it to the India- or Sierra-band navigation _radars for target acquisition—as long as the target does not go outside the missile’s sixty-degree seeker cone, it will track by itself.”

  Yi had to consciously straighten his shoulders and force himself to think to keep from panicking. “Very well. I want a full damage-control report, weapons stations first. Switch to backup fire-control sensors.”

  “Lookouts report missiles inbound! ” the quartermaster shouted suddenly. “Small missiles, one hundred meters above the water, slow speed, numerous missiles! Should we engage?”

  Yi felt his knees buckle and his heart pound in his chest. Enough, dammit, enoughl “Signal the formation, secure all fire-control radars, now!” Yi shouted frantically. “Shut them down now Order the entire battle group to switch to manual or optronic fire control.” His instructions were carried out just in time, for a few seconds later Yi saw a small cruise missile streak overhead with a tiny whistling sound. It was performing a wide oval pattern about two hundred meters above the ship. “My God,” he muttered as another missile whistled past, orbiting a bit lower and in the opposite direction—it felt as if they were large irritating mosquitoes buzzing just out of reach. “Use the AK-630s and shoot those damn things down, damn you—but do not use fire-control radars!”

  “What should we do, sir?” the officer of the deck asked. “The Kang and Changsha cannot attack without using their radars.”

  “Be silent, damn you,” Yi shouted. “Have Missile Attack Squadron One move forward in the group and attack the Nationalist frigate using optronic sensors. That should keep it busy so it cannot launch any more missiles against us, and maybe we will get lucky and destroy it. I want every ship in this fleet to go on the attack and destroy that rebel frigate immediately!”

  Those small missiles must have been launched by a submarine or stealth aircraft, Admiral Yi thought. His long-range radars were not the best, but if there were any normal aircraft within a hundred kilometers or any subs within five kilometers, they would have detected them. That means that Taiwan was getting assistance—and with weapons that sophisticated, that assistance had to be from the United States.

  “Any word from Beijing?” Yi asked.

  “Beijing advises that a message is being relayed through the Army Air Force and Navy to provide support so that we may have some coverage in case Taiwan launches attack aircraft.”

  Yi swore again, then said, “I want whatever air support the PLA can provide out to support us immediately,” Admiral Yi shouted. “Is that clear? Patrol aircraft, helicopters, gliders, I do not care! Tell Beijing in the strongest possible way to get us some air support! What about our fighters?”

  “Interceptor One is ready to launch, sir.” Yi looked out toward the flight deck. They had modified the takeoff positions on the carrier to allow up to three fighters to take off nearly simultaneously: the first fighter started at the holdback position farthest to port on the 195-meter launch point; another waited at the number two holdback launch position on the 210-meter spot at the port fantail; and a third fighter was being steered into position at the number three launch position at the starboard fantail position. The first Su-33 ran its engines up to full afterburner power, the steel wheel chocks retracted into the deck, and the fighter accelerated down the flight deck, then up onto the “ski jump” and into the sky. Once the first fighter cleared the bow, the second fighter began its takeoff run. The first fighter disappeared from view for a few moments as its momentum carried it down, but seconds later it could be seen gracefully arcing thr
ough the sky. Ten seconds later, the second Sukhoi-33 was airborne, chasing its leader.

  “Get Interceptor Two up on deck and ready to go as soon as Interceptor One finds that American bomber,” Yi ordered. “Find that American stealth bomber! ”

  ABOARD THE EB-52 MEGAFORTRESS

  THAT SAME TIME

  The NIRTSat radar satellite reconnaissance system used six low-orbiting satellites, with as many as three taking high-resolution “snapshots” of the desired target area simultaneously, then combining them electronically into a three-dimensional picture. But taking and processing these high-tech snapshots took time, sometimes as long as two minutes. McLanahan s supercockpit display system could predict the movement of ships and aircraft based on their previous position, heading, and speed, but in the heat of battle, two minutes was a very long time to be without up-to- date information.

  As soon as the newest hi-res photo came in, McLanahan was on the interphone. “The carrier is launching fighters,” he reported excitedly. “I’m picking up two heading north and climbing fast, passing five thousand feet. And I’ve got several small escorts overtaking the northern destroyer. Looks like they might be geting into launch position. Stand by, crew, radar coming on.” He moved the cursor on the supercockpit display, designated all of the vessels closest to the Taiwanese frigate, then hit the computer command button: “Identify.”

  WARNING, ATTACK RADAR SWITCHING TO RADIATE . . . WARNING, ATTACK RADAR RADIATING . . . ATTACK RADAR SWITCHING TO STANDBY, the computer reported. In three seconds, the powerful Inverse Synthetic Aperture Radar on the EB-52 Megafortress measured each vessel in three dimensions with six-inch accuracy. It took another twenty seconds for the computer to compare each ship’s measurements to the data in its memory files and identify each ship, along with its primary weapon and electronic fit.

  The computer read off its search results: target six is jiangwei- CLASS frigate, it announced in a very human-sounding female voice. ANTIAIR HQ-61 FOG LAMP, 100-MILLIMETER RICE LAMP DIRECTOR, 30-MILLIMETER ROUND BALL. ANTI-SHIP EIGHT EACH YJ-1 SQUARE TIE, 100-MILLIMETER SUN VISOR, 30-MILLIMETER SUN VISOR. TARGETS THREE, FOUR, SEVEN, NINE, HUANGFENG-CLASS GUIDED-MISSILE BOATS. ANTIAIR, 30-MILLIMETER, ROUND BALL FIRE-CONTROL RADAR. ANTI-SHIP FOUR EACH HY-1, 30-millimeter, target five and eight, houku-class missile boats, antiair 25-MILLIMETER. ANTI-SHIP, TWO EACH HY-1.

  “That middle frigate is a real threat for us,” McLanahan said. “We could easily be within range of that HQ-61.”

  “The range of a Hong Qian-61 is only six miles, sir,” Vikram said. “I heard of an improved version with triple that range,” McLanahan offered. “That frigate might be carrying it.”

  “An improved HQ-61? I never heard about that.”

  “And what if it’s really a Crotale SAM system?”

  “Crotale has a max range of eight miles,” Vikram said. “We’re twenty- six miles from the PLAN fleet.”

  “Emitter, if you ever want to make captain someday,” Cheshire suggested, “just nod and say, ‘Yes, sir.’ ”

  “Yes, sir,” Vikram complied.

  “Good boy,” Cheshire said. McLanahan gave his DSO a thumbs-up.

  “I don’t think the Tacit Rainbow attack deterred them,” Elliott said, with a smile. “I think we’re still an item of interest. Let ’em have the Wolverines.”

  “Agreed,” McLanahan said. “Stand by for pylon missile launch, crew.” His fingers were flying over his touch-screen supercockpit display, designating nine vessels as targets. He then armed four of the attack- configured AGM-177 cruise missiles and programmed all four with all nine possible targets. The cruise missiles would attack the target list in order. If a target was not destroyed, it would attack; if missed, it would reattack; if destroyed, it v/ould move to the next target in the list. “Stand by for pylon missile launch, crew. Wings level.” McLanahan then hit the voice command button: “Launch commit Wolverines.”

  WARNING, LAUNCH COMMIT PYLON LAUNCH ATTACK WOLVERINE MISSILES, the computer responded on interphone, then entered an automatic launch hold.

  “Launch,” McLanahan ordered, canceling the launch hold. The Megafortress crew felt a slight shudder as the tiny bomb bays on the wing pylon weapons pods opened and four missiles were ejected into the slipstream. “Center up on the steering bug, pilot, heading zero-two-five to the refueling anchor point, and let’s get out of here.”

  PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF CHINA PEOPLE’S LIBERATION ARMY HEADQUARTERS, BEIJING, CHINA

  THAT SAME TIME

  Admiral Sun Ji Guoming’s executive officer did not wait for a reply before hastily knocking on his superior’s office door and rushing in. The first deputy chief of staff was studying a large map of Taiwan and the east coast of China that had updated positions of several Chinese and Taiwanese military units depicted on it, including intelligence estimates of their size and strength. The aide bowed as Sun turned angrily toward him and said, “Sir!”

  “I asked not to be disturbed!”

  “Message sent here directly from East Fleet headquarters for the chief of staff,” the aide went on. “The commander of the carrier Mao is requesting assistance.”

  “Assistance? Where is it? What’s happening?”

  “In the Formosa Strait, fifty kilometers south of Quemoy Island. The admiral informs us that the Mao and its escorts have been ordered to halt and submit to an inspection by a frigate of the Taiwanese navy ...”

  “What?” Sun shouted, leaping to his feet in absolute shock and surprise. The carrier battle group was still at least a day from its attack staging position near the Nationalist-held island of Quemoy—it should still be well inside Chinese waters. The attack on Quemoy was not supposed to start for another week at the earliest! “You say they are being confronted by the Nationalist navy?”

  “. . . and they are being supported by what they believe is an American stealth bomber firing cruise missiles! ”

  Sun’s head snapped back to his aide as if he had heard a gunshot right behind him. “A stealth bomber? How do they know? Have they seen it?” “Intermittent radar contacts, but shortly thereafter a series of devastating anti-radar missile attacks,” the aide replied. “The weather is clear, their radars are operational, but they cannot detect the aircraft attacking them. The captain said he had no choice but to shut down all radar systems after he and one of his escorts, the Kang, were hit by antiradar cruise missiles that came out of nowhere.”

  “Follow me,” Sun ordered, and he and his aide ran out of the office and onto the private elevator that took them down to the chief of staff’s underground command center. The command center was little more than a large radio shack, manned around the clock with communications specialists broken into four sections, representing the army, navy, air forces, and Second Artillery Corps, which controlled the land-based nuclear ballistic missiles. Except for exercises, it was rarely visited by anyone much above field grade rank, so it created quite a stir when Deputy Chief of Staff Admiral Sun Ji Guoming burst into the chamber and over to the chief of staff’s seat. “Senior controller! ” Sun shouted, as he put on his headset.

  “Sir! ” a voice responded. “This is Major Dai, senior duty controller.”

  “I want to speak with the commanding officer of the carrier Mao Zedong right now,” Sun ordered. “And put up a chart with locations of naval air units in the Quemoy area and unit resource report data on our Sukhoi- 27 wing.”

  “Yes, sir,” Dai replied. In moments, a hastily sketched map of the Formosa Strait region went up on a rear-projection screen in front of Sun. “Sir, naval air units in current mission-ready status in the Quemoy region include the Nineteenth Air Wing at Quanzhou, with thirty J-6 fighter- attack planes, and the Seventh Air Wing at Juidongshan, with twenty- two J-6 fighters. In addition, the Fifty-first Air Wing at Fuzhou is operational with nineteen H-6 bombers.”

  “I want all three wings put on immediate combat alert,” Sun said. “Any units on ready alert right now?”

  Another long wait; then: “Negative, sir.�


  “Beginning today, those three air wings shall have one-third of their flyable planes on twenty-four-hour combat alert,” Sun ordered. “I want as many J-6 fighters loaded with air-to-air weapons and cannon ammunition and launched as possible, and be sure they have functioning gun cameras. Their target is any unidentified aircraft in the vicinity of the Mao carrier group. What about the Sukhoi-27s?”

  “The Second Air Wing at Haikou currently has twelve Su-27 fighters operational.”

  “Twelve?” Sun retorted. “It was reported all forty planes allotted for combat operations were operational! Damn you, Major, it is the command section’s responsibility to see to it that the general staff has accurate information!” Dai stiffened and lowered his head in submission. It would be far too late to launch the Su-27s, Sun thought—the J-6s would have to do. “Get those J-6s airborne, and I want an Ilyushin-76 radar plane launched as well to assist in the search. Where is the chief of staff right now? ”

  “I will check, sir,” the senior controller said. His staff was working more quickly now. “Sir, the chief of staff is in quarters. Shall I ring him?”

  “Negative. Notify me at once when the chief of staff checks in with the command section.”

  “Yes, sir. . . . Sir, Admiral Yi on the carrier Mao is on channel two.” Sun switched his communications selector to the proper setting: “Admiral Yi, this is Admiral Sun. How do you copy?”

  The transmission was heavy with static—obviously this was an HF shortwave radio patch, not a satellite hookup. “I read you, sir,” replied the voice. “Do you wish a status report?”

  “Go ahead with your status report, Admiral.”

  “We are in visual contact with a Taiwanese flagged warship, the Kin Men, a guided-missile frigate,” Yi reported in a loud voice, as if he were shouting across the sky. “The frigate has opened fire on my group, hitting the destroyer Kang with missile fire. The Kang suffered minor damage and is still operational. The Mao destroyed several inbound missiles with terminal defenses but was hit by small anti-radar missiles launched by a suspected stealth aircraft operating in the vicinity in concert with the rebel ship. Minor damage only. We are still operational. We attempted to return fire but have encountered heavy jamming and anti-radar cruise missile attacks, and we are currently running silent and relying on passive sensors. I have launched two fighters in air defense configuration. We are still in contact with the Nationalist vessel.”

 

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