“Cyril. It’s Jack. Listen, one of our Hawkeyes just received positive radar confirmation of three RAF Sea Harriers bearing southwest 110 miles west of Lofoten, Norway. You fellas change the flight pattern?”
“Negative, Jack. Southwest you say? They’re supposed to be headed northeast, back to Keflavik in Iceland.”
“Well out west is where they’re headed. They’re flying like bats out of hell, 730 knots, 200 feet above the chop. Looks like they’re headed to London, although it’s a bit early to be sure.”
Based on Commander Shollen’s report, Admiral Hennessey understood the gravity of the situation. He cleared his throat. “Admiral Yorbis, Her Majesty’s Navy requests the United States Navy’s cooperation in tracking down what may be rogue RAF fighter aircraft.”
Yorbis approved of the man’s difficult decision. “It is the United States Navy’s pleasure to do so, Admiral. We’ll intercept and coordinate with your people. I’ll get back to you.” He turned to his executive officer. ”Turn us into the wind, XO.” Aircraft carriers always turned into the wind during air operations to achieve greater airspeed for aircraft taking off. He hit the intercom and described the situation to the Air Boss on the Primary Flight Control deck, one flight up from the Reagan’s bridge.
The Air Boss listened, confirmed Yorbis’s orders, locked his handset in place, and turned to his deputy, casually known as the ‘Mini Boss.’ “Get a Seahawk and a Viking up A-S-A-P.” Before any fighters could be launched, a U.S. Navy carrier generally sent up a Seahawk helicopter to conduct a search-and-rescue operation in the event of a mishap and a Viking refueling aircraft to top off long-range fighters’ tanks shortly after launch. “Then scramble four Hornets. Intercept three rogue RAF Harriers. Coordinates to follow. Now.”
Wathne ripped the message from the printer and handed it to Hendricks. Hendricks read it and passed it on to Carlton. “Maybe my use of the word ‘nuts’ was too harsh.”
Z73446
FR: CINC CVW USS RONALD REAGAN
TO: CO USS SEAWOLF
3 RAF HARRIERS POS LAT E9°30’02” LON N68°15’20”
BRNG 216 SPD 640 ALT 211’
PART OF RAF TRAIN REFL TNKR LOST AFT CNTCT
HMS INVINCIBLE STATES HARRIERS REFUS RADIO CNTCT
UNSCHD BRNG POSBL BANDITS
SCRAMBLED ETA 1903
XTRM CAUTN
AWAIT FURTHER TRANS
END TRANS
Carlton glanced from the message to the chart console and back several times before handing the piece of paper to Pink. “Well, at least now we’ve got our proof.”
62 HORNETS
USS Ronald Reagan
United States Navy Nuclear Aircraft Carrier
6:12 P.M.
The Ronald Reagan’s 4.5-acre platform was home to 75 aircraft, not counting its deadly missiles. Thirty-six F/A-18E Super Hornet fighters, seventeen F-14D Tomcat fighters, four E-2C Hawkeye surveillance aircraft, six S-3B Viking antisubmarine/in-flight refueling aircraft, four EA-6B Prowler electronic warfare aircraft, two ES-3B Shadow communications intelligence/in-flight refueling aircraft, four SH-60F Seahawk antisubmarine helicopters, and two HH-60G Seahawk combat/SAR helicopters.
The F/A-18E Super Hornet reigned as undisputed lord and master within the deep and wide panoply of American naval fighters. Designed by McDonnell Douglas— ‘Mac Dac’—before the company was merged into Boeing Military Aircraft, the Super Hornet was a necessary upgrade of the often-criticized F/A-18C Hornet. It combined stealth, speed, and electronic brainpower in an attack/air superiority/precision strike/enemy air defense suppression fighter so lethal that enemy missile ground crews quaked in their boots at the knowledge of the winged demon’s approach, and enemy pilots often retreated with full afterburners from the mere possibility of an engagement.
The Super Hornet’s first-ever fully integrated liquid-cooled avionics suite ran over 1,000,000 lines of computer code at 700,000,000 operations per second, roughly equal to the combined power of four Cray supercomputers. Mated to a full-color glass multi-function display (MID) instead of traditional and confusing analog gauges, fitted with a holographic head up display (HUD) system and a helmet-mounted weapons targeting sight, the vicious bird of prey’s quad-redundant fly-by-wire flight control system allowed acceleration, pitch, yaw, and roll rates at a sustained nine times Earth gravity (9 Gs), limited only by the human endurance of its pressure-suited single pilot.
The Super Hornet’s landing gear and airframe were strengthened. Its ratio of fuel weight to total weight was significantly increased. Able to generate 22,000 pounds of thrust each, its twin General Electric F414-GE-400 engines could push the attack fighter through the envelope at still- classified vertiginous speeds. An ALE-50 towed decoy system protected the aircraft from enemy missiles. Its Hughes Electronics Forward-Looking Infrared (FLIR) targeting system was made to detect targets in infrared rather than visible light, thus granting the Super Hornet the best targeting system of any fighter in production. Although no self-respecting naval aviator would use it voluntarily, a ‘Mode-1’ system could land the fighter on its own even on the often deadly swaying deck of an aircraft carrier. The bonus was that the Super Hornet’s $58 million price tag was far more politically acceptable than its Air Force cousin F-22A Raptor’s price of $214 million.
In sum, it was American.
It was the best.
The handler in charge of each aircraft’s position on the flight deck ordered the deck crew to move four Super Hornets into position. The aircraft had been fueled with 19,000 pounds of kerosene by the purple shirt ‘grapes’ and armed with ten AIM-9X Sidewinder Air-to-Air Missiles (AAM) by the red shirt weapons crews.
Lieutenants Milo Stevan (callsign “Smoke”), Peter Rieble (callsign “Senator”), Todd Samo (callsign “Elvis”), and Tanya Venice (callsign “Venus”) exited the squadron ready room and climbed into the cockpits.
The green shirt mechanics instructed the pilots to start their engines. As the canopies locked shut, the mechs gave each aircraft another check, careful to avoid the jet engine intakes that could—and sometimes did—suck deck crew members into aircrafts’ bowels. With one of the hundred hand signals each deck crew member knew from memory, the mechs warned their colleagues of impending jet exhaust. The seawater-cooled Jet Blast Deflectors (JBDs) were raised aft of the engines.
The pilots moved the Super Hornets under their own power across the slick metal deck and halted at the business end of three of the Reagan’s four C13 Mod.1 catapults. The catapult crew secured each aircraft’s front wheel into a catapult with a towbar and attached a holdback behind the nose gear. The mechs gave each Super Hornet a final once-over.
Finally, the pilots received the order to go to full power. The weight of the aircraft was posted on a chalkboard. When all agreed on the numbers, the pilot saluted the catapult officer in the below-deck catapult pod and held on tight. Several seconds later, the launch officer signaled the ‘cat’ officer—himself a former naval aviator—who hit the release button.
The steam accumulated from the Reagan’s boilers accelerated the catapults 100 yards forward and rocketed each Super Hornet from standstill to 150 knots in under two seconds. Now airborne, Smoke, Senator, Elvis, and Venus pointed their needle noses nearly due east. As a precaution, two Prowler aircraft were launched soon after the Hornets to jam possible enemy radar and communications.
“Interceptor. Interceptor, this is Strike,” the Air Boss announced. “Bogeys are range 6-1-0 miles. Course 2-1-6. Speed 6-0-2 knots.” The term ‘bogey’ designated aircraft whose allegiance was unknown or uncertain. ’Bandit’ designated an enemy aircraft. The rules of engagement (ROE) were vastly different for each of the two designations.
“Roger, Strike,” Smoke acknowledged while his TRW navigation system calculated an optimal intercept course. “We’re five-by-five. Climbing to fifty thousand. 6-1-0 knots for bogey.”
Hendricks stared at Carlton, not a little annoyed. “Carlton, just because there are fighters near
the Pushkin that fit your theory doesn’t prove your theory right. It may, however, be proof enough to order an interception, which the Reagan has done.”
Carlton ran his hand through his hair, breathed deeply. “I realize that, sir. But look at the totality of the circumstances. The fighters match the only ones that could do such a job.”
“The Harrier is one of the most common RAF jets, Carlton. The North Sea is full of ’em. Next.”
”The message said ’possible bandits’: Why would the Reagan say that if—”
“Possible bandits, Carlton. Possible. Very different from confirmed bandits. For all we know, the English royal family could have taken the Harriers for a spin. We just don’t know. Next.”
Carlton turned to the chart console and pointed to the Pushkin’s estimated path from the Nevsky to where Seawolf had intercepted the sub. “May I see the message?” He grabbed the piece of paper, read out the Harriers’ coordinates, traced their estimated route from Keflavik, Iceland.
“There, sir,” he pointed at the chart. “The Harriers intersected the Pushkin’s course right about here.”
Hendricks leaned over, nodded. “That’s about where it would have been, yes.” He looked back up at Carlton. “But it’s still not enough proof to shoot them down.” He sighed. “Do you realize the diplomatic incident it would cause if an American naval vessel shot down three fighters belonging to one our allies? Not only one of our allies, but Great Britain, the only ally the U.S. has been able to count on, time and time again? Flown by inexperienced trainees?
“Look. I think your theory is dead-on. Everything points to the Harriers. Their course. The Pushkin’s course. The fact they’ve been tagged as possible bandits. It’s just not enough proof to recommend eliminating them. Besides, even if they do have the Russian diamonds on board, they’re not threatening anyone with deadly force, are they?”
“Will you allow me to inform Washington of the possibility?”
Hendricks stared at Carlton for several seconds. “That I’ll do. Someone get the louie a pad to write on.”
“Here, sir.” An eager young ensign handed him a memo pad.
Carlton and Pink composed a brief message to Forbes. The Seawolf came to antenna depth, burst the transmission up to the Navy satellite, disappeared under the surface, and waited for Pink’s boss to digest the information and relay it to whomever he thought would use it best under the circumstances. The carrier air wing or battle group commander would not react to the political nature of the message as effectively as after it filtered to them through the intermediary of a military superior briefed by DDI Forbes.
Two thousand miles away, Forbes reached the same conclusion as Commander Hendricks. No deadly force threatened. No positive proof. No action. Maintain position and observe was the short message back to Pink on the Seawolf.
“Strike, this is Interceptor. Bearing 0-9-4. Request information on bogeys. Over.” Smoke stared at the instrument readouts glowing on the glass cockpit’s head up display from behind the MBU-12/P oxygen mask that fed him an electronically regulated mixture of pressurized oxygen and nitrogen. As ordered, he and his three colleagues had refrained from performing an active radar search of the RAF bogeys for fear of detection.
“Interceptor this is Strike. Range is 1-0-2 miles to bogey. Bogey has not altered course bearing of 2-1-6.” The voice from over 600 miles away sounded as clear as if it had been a foot from Smoke’s ear. “Do not attempt radio contact until you have visual. Repeat. Maintain radio silence until visual. Over.”
“That’s a rog, Strike.” A veteran of Operation Desert Storm, Smoke was not one to become nervous under stress. Still, it was strange. During the $1 million worth of training he had received from the Navy, he had been instructed to intercept enemy aircraft, engage enemy aircraft in air combat maneuvering, and destroy enemy aircraft with every weapon available in the American Navy fighter arsenal. He had even been trained to provide assistance in SAR operations. But never in his fifteen-year career as a naval aviator had Smoke ever been asked to intercept an allied fighter group. Particularly an allied training fighter group that refused to reply and radically altered course without approval of its carrier air wing CINC.
Strange, he repeated to himself. Something didn’t sit right in his gut.
He pondered the orders. As lead, he was tasked with all on-site tactical decisions. If Strike did not want him to initiate radio contact until the Harriers were within visual range, it also meant that he was to remain undetected until the last minute. Which meant that he and his wingmen would have to come in from behind the RAF fighters, now racing in the general direction of England. He made the required calculations, relayed them to his wingmen. “Elvis, Senator, Venus, this is Lead. Decrease speed to 5-0-0 knots. Adjust course to 1-1-0. Prepare to initiate LPI search on my mark.”
“Roger, Lead,” replied Elvis.
“That’s a rog,” affirmed Senator.
“Roger. Ready to initiate LPI,” acknowledged Venus.
Up to now, the four Super Hornets had refrained from using their active radar and instead relied on the Reagan’s radar fix of the three RAF jets. That was about to change. Strike had ordered him not to engage in radio contact until visual ID. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t use his active radar.
The Super Hornets were equipped with the APG-77, the most advanced radar system ever developed. Whereas traditional radar used arrays of sensors fixed on a mechanical aiming mechanism that swept 120 degrees every fourteen seconds, the APG-77 used 1,500 independent non-mechanical modules that swept the same volume of space with simultaneous multiple beams in the blink of an eye.
The true power of the APG-77, however, lay in its ability to perform low probability of intercept (LPI) searches. Because each of the modules acted independently, the radar system used low energy pulses to search a broad range of frequencies rather than a few set frequencies. The result was that a target was unable to read the pulses as an active search. In addition, the Super Hornet was crafted from carbon, thermoplastics, titanium, aluminum, steel, and other classified materials, then coated with radar-absorbing materials to achieve a radar cross section nearly 100 times smaller than that of the fighter on enemy scopes. The combined effect was that Smoke, Senator, Elvis, and Venus could detect their targets, launch their Sidewinder AAM missiles, and destroy the rogue Harriers without their targets ever detecting anything more threatening than a large seabird hundreds of miles away.
Ten minutes later, Smoke gave the order. “This is Lead. Initiate LPI search.”
63 INTERCEPTION
RAF Sea Harriers
298 miles due west of Mo-i-Rana, Norway
7:27 P.M.
The three Sea Harrier pilots cringed as the high-pitched whine of their radar alarms exploded inside their helmets.
“Royal Air Force Sea Harriers. This is United States Navy Lieutenant Stevan. Identify yourselves,” Smoke announced in his best command voice.
The lead Harrier pilot nearly cursed in Russian, stopped himself just in time. “Good God, mate! Where did you Yanks come from?” He replied with genuine surprise in a faked British accent. The last thing he had anticipated was American Navy fighters. Super Hornets, no less. His first impulse was to adopt evasive maneuvers, but he forced himself to continue on course. He wouldn’t have a snowflake’s chance in hell of outmaneuvering or outrunning the American fighters eight hundred feet below on his six. He cursed himself for no longer hugging the waves.
“From thin air,” Smoke replied dryly. “I repeat. Identify yourselves immediately.” At his altitude of two hundred feet, he could barely make out the outlines of the three Harriers through the fist-sized drops of rain that pelted his glass canopy in a wicked crosswind.
“Major Leyland. Royal Air Force. With Lieutenants Carruthers and Fox. For God’s sake, Lieutenant, take us off radar lock! You’re scaring my trainees half to death!”
The alarms ceased. The radar lock was tactically unnecessary. The APG-77 radar would allow t
he AAM missiles to reach their targets without radar lock. It had been performed entirely for demonstrative effect. “Thanks.”
“HMS Invincible demands the reasons for your course change and radio silence.”
“We’ve been trying to reach the Invincible for the past two hours. Our tanker exploded immediately after our refuel. I don’t know what happened. The explosion must have generated an electromagnetic pulse of some sort. Our long-range communications capability was burned off. We can’t communicate with anything farther than 5,000 yards.”
“That doesn’t explain your course change, sir.”
“Keflavik never properly de-iced us. Ice started collecting on the airframes immediately after refuel. No way for us to continue our original course north into the Arctic Circle. We dropped low. It’s the only place warm enough for us not to accumulate ice. We’re hoping to make London. Will you please contact Invincible and relay this to her? Would you also alert Aberdeen and inform them of our situation?”
“Affirmative, sir. We will escort you.”
“That’s very kind, but unnecessary. We merely—”
“Orders are orders, major.”
Smoke mulled over the man’s explanations.
First was the technical improbability of a simultaneous malfunction of long-range communications computers on three jets and the virtual impossibility of Keflavik overlooking a de-icing procedure on three aircraft that was as second nature as breathing to the air crews of the air base near the Arctic Circle.
Second, Major Leyland’s voice was far too calm, his explanations too pat. Almost canned. True, the pilot identifications did match up. Their accents were British. And they had not made any attempt to evade Smoke and his wingmen.
Still, his instinct didn’t allow him to believe a word of it. Why didn’t the Harriers try to land at Tromso, Narvik, Bodo or Mo-i-Rana in Norway? Those cities were a mere hop from where the Hercules tanker had exploded, and even though they lacked air bases, Harriers could land vertically, without the benefit of a runway. If Major Leyland had been concerned about ice buildups, he would have landed there. Or anywhere else on land. Besides, ice buildup itself would have started immediately upon their departure from Keflavik, not when they refueled. They would have turned back at once.
Patrick Carlton 01 - The Diamond Conspiracy Page 40