Fatal Terrain

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Fatal Terrain Page 36

by Dale Brown


  batants " were dropping the last of a dozen large SS-N- 16 mis-

  sile canisters overboard. The SS-N-16, code-named

  "Stallion," was an air- or submarine-launched rocket-powered

  torpedo, except these weren't going flying before releasing

  their deadly cargoes. Once sailing clear of all torpedoes, they

  238 DALE BROWN

  were activated by radio command. Simultaneousty, the canis-

  ters, activated their sensors, detected the distinctive high-speed,

  high-powered screws of the U. Navy warships, and turned

  toward them. Once perfectly aligned with their targets, they

  powered up their payloads-each canister carried a E45-75A

  torpedo with a 200-pound penetrating-blast high-explosive

  warhead, sitting atop a solid-fueled rocket booster-and the

  countdown commenced ...

  New NIRTSat satellite radar data was being downloaded every

  eight minutes; in less than a minute, the supercockpit God's-

  eye view was automatically updated, and the map of the sur-

  veillance area had to be reexamined as if for the first time.

  "Okay, we see the 'noncombatants' are still poking along-

  in fact, it looks like they're heading away from the frigates,

  cruising at ten knots," McLanahan said to Denton. "What else

  you got?" When Oakley didn't answer in a few moments,

  McLanahan pointed to the screen. "Looks like we got a new-

  comer, probably pulled out of Xiamen a couple sweeps ago.

  Remember, the NIRTSat data isn't really God's-eye-it's bet-

  ter than turning on a radar and letting the bad guys know we're

  up here, but it's not perfect ... yet. Let's get an ID on that

  ship there, Jeff."

  "Rog," Denton responded, expertly rolling the trackball

  cursor over the stored NIRTSat radar image. Jeff Denton, a

  former F-16 Fighting Falcon pilot, Gulf War vet, and F-15E

  Strike Eagle backseater, had had the bad luck of joining

  HAWC just weeks before it closed last year. Unable to get

  another fighter-bomber assignment anywhere, he had been

  forced to accept an early-out bonus and found himself unem-

  ployed right near the holiday season of 1996. Fortunately, just

  as the bonus money had started running low, he'd gotten the

  call from General Sams6n to do some flying for a private de-

  fense firm he had never heard of, Sky Masters, Inc., in Blythe-

  ville, Arkansas, which was working on some former HAWC

  projects.

  Denton had jumped at the opportunity-never expecting to

  be suddenly flying a hybrid B-52/B-IB/B-2 monster over the

  Formosa Strait in Asia, near where a nuclear war had almost

  broken out just a few days earlier.

  "Identify this return," Denton ordered the computer, being

  FATAL TERRAI'N 239

  careful to make the command short and sweet, lest he bring

  down the wrath of the legendary General Brad Elliott on him-

  self.

  IDENTIFICATION UNKNOWN, the computer responded. SEARCH-

  ING ... TARGET IDENTIFIED AS SLAVA-CLASS CRUISER ...

  TARGET IDENTIFIED AS KIROV-CLASS CRUISER... TARGET

  IDENTIFIED AS FEARLESS-CLASS ASSAULT SHIP... TARGET

  IDENTIFIED AS TYPE 82-CLASS ACCOMMODATIONS SHIP ...

  "You got a cruiser, Muck?" Nancy Cheshire, flying as co-

  pilot, asked. A warship of that size always got a lot of attention

  from every member of the crew, especially the ones who had

  once faced those fearsome vessels. "Where is it?"

  "Cancel the report," McLanahan said. Denton double-

  clicked the voice command switch. "Looks like the com-

  puter's a little confused-either there's not enough radar data,

  or the data quality isn't good enough. It's a big sucker, though,

  and it's moving pretty good-over twenty knots, and crossing

  in front of the frigates' course. After what's happened in this

  area recently, I might not call that a friendly move.. So what

  do you do now?"

  "Ask the DSO if they got any idea what it is, based on

  electronic emissions," Denton replied.

  "Excellent," McLanahan said. "The attack computer sys-

  tem is supposed to get that information from the defensive

  computer suite automatically, but sometimes it won't make the

  connection. Try it."

  "Way ahead of you," Bruno responded. She had briefly

  looked at the God's-eye view and matched the signals received

  by her system with the computerized charts. "Nothing but a

  commercial naV Tadar from that contact-looks like a Furuno

  or Oki system-and wide-spectrum radio transmissions, every-

  thing from HF single sideband to UHF. I get an occasional

  WF interrogator, too, maybe a Square Head." The old Soviet

  IFF interrogator code-named "Square Head" sent radio trig-

  gering signals out to another vessel or aircraft, asking for a

  coded radio response to help identification--of course, the EB-

  52 Megafortress or the U. Navy ships in the area would

  never respond to a foreign IFF, so all they would get would

  be silence.

  "Not much help there," McLanahan said. "What else,

  eff?"

  J 11

  Test the system, see if -it's working okay?"

  240 DALE BROWN

  McLanahan shrugged. "In a combat situation, I wouldn't

  waste time on that. But now, with things quiet, press on."

  Denton rolled the cursor onto one of the nearby U. Navy

  frigates, and the system quickly and correctly identified it as

  a Perry-class frigate; he tried Ming one of the previously clas-

  sified "noncombatants"-it again reported as a trawler.

  "What else, Jeff? Time's running out."

  "Call the Navy and ask if they can get an eyeball on it,"

  Denton suggested.

  "Excellent suggestion," McLanahan said. "Never forget to

  ask someone else in your formation or task force to help out."

  "Fat lot of good asking the Navy for anything does," Elliott

  grumbled.

  McLanahan ignored him. "Do it. Think about what you

  need to give the Navy pukes. first, get the data together, then

  call."

  "Rog," Denton nodded, pleased at himself for keeping up

  with the almost legendary Patrick McLanahan. He measured

  out a quick range and bearing from the prebriefed target ref-

  erence point, called the "bull's-eye," then keyed the mike:

  "Crew, OSO is going out over Fleet SATCOM." He waited

  for any negative replies, then switched over to the secure sat-

  ellite frequency. "James Daniel, this is Headbanger."

  A sailor with a very impatient voice that sounded as if he

  were sixteen years old responded, "Calling James Daniel on

  FLTSATCOM, go ahead." The voice sounded as if it didn't

  recognize the call sign "Headbanger," although it was the one

  briefed to all.participants and the one they had been using

  since the beginning.

  "Headbanger requesting a visual or optical ID on radar tar-

  get bearing two-four-three at fifty-seven bull's-eye, over."

  The answer came back almost immediately from a different

  and far more annoyed operator: "Headbanger, unable at this

  time due to weather." The weather was marginal, but it cer-

  tainly wouldn't keep a Navy heli
copter from its patrol under

  normal circumstances, McLanahan thought. "Keep this chan-

  nel clear. Out."

  "Told you," Elliott said. "The squids hardly know we ex-

  ist, and they sure as hell don't care."

  McLanahan ignored that remark, too, but he was starting to

  get a little exasperated. "Okay," he said, turning his attention

  back to Denton. "Anything else you can try?"

  FATAL TER RAI N 241

  "We could launch a Striker or Wolverine at it and take a

  look on the datalink," Denton deadpanned.

  "That sounds like an expensive suggestion," McLanahan

  said, "not to mention the fact that it could cause an interna-

  tional incident-or worse. You might have to just go with

  incomplete information. If you had time, you could go through

  all of the computer's guesses and try to get a feel for the

  analysis; in less hostile or non-stealth situations, you could turn

  on the attack radar and get an ID from the inverse synthetic

  aperture radar.

  "But I'd assume at this point that it was hostile," Denton

  interjected. "The computer guessed at two Russian cruisers;

  that sounded like the worst-case analysis, so I'd go with that-

  either the Russians decided in the past couple days to send a

  cruiser down the Strait to see what all the excitement was

  about, or the Chinese have a really big destroyer or cruiser

  patrolling the area."

  "I'd buy that," McLanahan said. "So give us the rundown

  on your worst-case scenario. Remember, you're the surveil-

  lance and intelligence officer on the Megafortress, along with

  the DSO, as well as the weapons officer-you've got to be

  ready to sing out with important information the rest of the

  crew might need to make decisions on how to press the at-

  tack. "

  "Rog." He opened a small window on his supercockpit

  display and hit the voice command switch: "Display and read

  order of battle on Slava-class cruiser. 11

  SLAVA-CLASS CRUISER, VERTICAL LAUNCH SA-N-6 ATIMAIR-

  CRAFr MISSILES, MAX RANGE 60 MILES, X-BAND TOP DOME

  DIRECTOR, the computer began, reading the information as well

  as diagramming the weapons and radar information on the su-

  percockpit display. TWO TWIN SA-N-4 ANTIAIRCRAFrr MISSILES,

  MAX RANGE FIVE MILES, FOXTROT, HOTEL, AND INDIA-BAND

  POP GROUP TARGET TRACKING WITH OPTRONIC BACKUP; ONE

  TWIN 130-MILLIMETER DUAL-PURPOSE GUN, MAX RANGE FEF-

  TEEN MILES, X-BAND FIRE CONTROL WITH OPTRONIC AND MAN-

  UAL BACKUP; six 30-MILLIMETER ANTIAIRCRAI'T GUNS, MAX

  RANGE THREE MILES, X-BAND BASS TILT FIRE CONTROL WITH

  OPTRONIC BACKUP; SIXTEEN SS-N-12 ATIM-SHIP MISSILES, MAX

  RANGE THREE HUNDRED MILES, JULIETT-BAND TARGET TRACK-

  ING ...

  "That's good enough," McLanahan said, and Denton

  242 DALE BROWN

  stopped the computerized report. "The computer always reads

  the antiaircraft order of battle first, and now you know the

  reason-that SA-N-6 system can eat our lunch right now, if

  they ever got a lock on us. You should also know that the SA-

  N-6 is a very devastating anti-ship weapon, too. You might

  want to scan through the ship's radar fit, too-it's unlikely

  that a cruiser has a commercial Furuno or Oki nav radar, but

  sometimes the military radars will look like commercial or

  civilian sets at long range or low power-"

  Suddenly, an alarm rang out in all their headsets, and a

  blinking icon appeared on the supercockpit display. "What is

  that?" Elliott asked.

  McLanahan urged Denton to start talking as they both stud-

  ied the display: "High-speed low-altitude missile," Denton

  said. "Looks like it came from the Chinese cruiser ... second

  missile launch, same azimuth ... shit, it looks like they're

  headed for the Duncan and James Daniel! The Chinese are

  firing missiles at our frigates! More missiles ... I've got at

  least four, no, five ... six missiles in the air!"

  "Brad, let's try to get within Scorpion range," McLanahan

  shouted. The Megafortress immediately banked right and be-

  gan a fast descent in response. "DSO, you got those in-

  bounds?"

  "No-no uplink signal, no terminal radar detected," Bruno

  reported.

  "We need the attack radar," McLanahan said.

  "Rog. Crew, attack radar coming on," Denton announced.

  "What do you got, Muck?" Elliott shouted on interphone.

  "Six supersonic ballistic missiles," McLanahan said. "Not

  sure, but I think they were fired from the large ship cruising

  west of the Navy frigates."

  "What do you mean, you 'think' they were fired from that

  cruiser?"

  "Because we didn't get an exact ID on the ship and they

  didn't come exactly from that ship's azimuth," McLanahan

  explained.

  "But it's the only warship around, right?"

  "I'm not sure if it is a warship, Brad."

  "I think we can assume six supersonic anti-ship missiles

  were fired from a ship that big," Elliott said. "Spin up the

  Strikers and let's take that sucker down."

  "Missiles will impact in less than one minute," Denton re-

  FATAL TERRA I N 243

  ported. "We should be in range to intercept with Scorpion

  missiles."

  "I'll get on the hom with the Navy and warn them of the

  inbounds," Nancy Cheshire, the crew copilot, said.

  "What kind of ship is that out there?" Elliott asked.

  "It's a cruiser," Denton responded.

  11 We don't have an exact ID on it, I said," McLanahan

  corrected him. "Computer couldn't match it, and we couldn't

  get an eyeball."

  Elliott was on the secure satellite channel in an instant: "At-

  las, this is Headbanger," he radioed. "Are you getting the

  picture here? We've got six inbounds heading for our frig-

  ates. "

  "Headbanger, this is Atlas," the operator at the U. Pacific

  Command headquarters responded. "We copy. Stand by."

  "Stand by?" Elliott retorted. "Where the hell is Allen-

  having dinner with the Chinese ambassador? We need a de-

  cision up here, Atlas!"

  "The James Daniel reports they have contact on the in-

  bounds," Cheshire reported.

  "Checks-both frigates opening fire," Denton shouted as

  he watched missile icons speeding away from the frigates to-

  ward the incoming Chinese missiles. "Looks like they got a

  clear-"

  "Fighters!" Bruno shouted. "Large formation at four

  o'clock, five-zero miles, high ... another large formation at

  one o'clock, four-seven miles and closing, high."

  "This is starting to smell like a trap," Elliott said. "Secure

  the attack radar and let's-"

  "More fighters!" Atkins re orted for Bruno, who appeared

  to be getting a little overwhelmed by this sudden attack.

  "Three o'clock, five-zero miles and closing ... first formation

  is breaking into two, we've got four formations of fighters

  inbound on us!"

  - "Attack radar down," McLanahan said, as Denton deacti-

  vated the Megafortress's radar.

  "The inbound Chinese missiles disappear
ed!" Denton in-

  teijected. "Just before the frigate's missiles hit, they van-

  ished!"

  "Stallions," Atkins said. "Russian-made rocket-powered

  torpedoes. They're sea-skimmers until they get within SAM

  range of a target, then dive underwater."

  244 DALE BROWN

  "More fighters inbound!" Bruno shouted. "Two fighters,

  very high speed, two o'clock, four-five miles and closingfast!

  Range forty miles ... they might have a radar lock on us!"

  "Might be a Foxbat or Foxhound," Elliott said. The Rus-

  sian-made MiG-25 Foxbat and MiG-31 Foxhound fighters, de- I

  signed to intercept the American B-70, B,56, FB- I I 1, and B- I

  supersonic strategic bombers, were all-titanium built Russian

  superfighters, the fastest fighters in the world, capable of high

  altitude supersonic dashes well over three times the speed of I

  sound; they had been on the international export market for

  many years. "Get those damn things!"

  "C'mon, Ashley, get on 'em ... stand by for pylon launch, I.

  crew! All countermeasures systems active!" Atkins shouted

  over interphone, reaching over Bruno's shoulder and activating

  the Scorpion antiaircraft missiles. Seconds later, he had des-

  ignated two missiles apiece against the incomin fighters, and

  the AIM-120 missiles were on the way ...

  ... but Bruno's delay in launching the antiaircraft missiles

  proved decisive. The incoming fighters started a descent at

  thirty miles that accelerated to well over three times the speed

  of sound, heading directly at the Megafortress. The Scorpion

  missiles expended all of their thrust in powering toward the

  attackers, so by the time the missiles closed in on their targets,

  they had no energy to maneuver and exploded several dozen

  yards aft of the high-speed attackers.

  "Clean misses," Atkins said. "Stand by for pylon. . ." But

  just then, they heard a fast-pitched deedledeedledeedle! warn-

  ing tone. "Missile launch!" Atkins shouted.

  "Break!'.' Bruno shouted.

  Just as Elliott was going to ask which way to break, Atkins

  interjected, "Hold heading, pilot! They're trying a nose-to-

  nose launch-very low percentage, especially against us. I've

 

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