‘I’ve been over this with both Dick and Wings. Our targets are No-dong missiles, actually waiting on the launch pads. These are highly dangerous but comparatively fragile and, more importantly, liquid-fuelled. The fuel is TM-185, which is basically a mixture of twenty per cent petrol and eighty per cent kerosene, plus an oxidizer known as AK-27I, making a highly explosive combination. The fact that satellite imagery shows them on the pads suggests that they’ve been fuelled already. Normal operating procedure is that the tanks would be left empty until the missile’s mounted on the gantry, because moving a rocket full of liquid propellant is highly dangerous.’
Richter exchanged the map for a photograph of the missile base at Mayang and pointed out the gantry and No-dong standing on the pad, then he showed satellite images of the other three bases.
‘There’s no point in hitting these weapons with a Brimstone anti-tank missile because the warhead wouldn’t detonate. But we do need to hit them hard and accurately, so the best option is probably the Maverick with a proximity fuse and electro-optical guidance. The maintainers have loaded one pair on each Harrier so we’ll have two shots at each target. For the scatter-gun option, each aircraft also has two operational pods of CRV7s, so that’s an additional thirty-eight rockets. If you hit one of the missiles and get its fuel to detonate, that will almost certainly destroy anything else above ground in the vicinity.’
‘So once you’ve targeted the Maverick you need to watch out for the fallout from the explosion,’ Dick Long said, turning in his seat to face Forbes and Whittard. ‘Be prepared to haul off the moment the warhead detonates.’
Richter nodded agreement. ‘For self-defence, we’ll each be carrying two AIM-9L Sidewinders. We’re having to compromise on this mission, because we also need a drop tank due to the long transit. Mother moved closer to the peninsula during the night, and is presently loitering about twenty miles off the South Korean coast due west of Seoul. The fastest way to reach our targets is to fly straight there, but that would mean crossing directly over North Korea, and that’s not the brightest of ideas. The DPRK has one of the most comprehensive air-defence networks on the surface of the planet. It’s got nearly ten thousand anti-aircraft guns, plus Russian SA-2, SA-3, SA-5, SA-7 and SA-16 surface-to-air missiles. Most of the SA-2 and SA-3 batteries are located near the coastal areas, and the SA-5s are close to the DMZ and Pyongyang itself.’
Richter replaced the photograph the OHP was displaying with an aeronautical chart of the Korean Peninsula on which he’d drawn the track he’d planned for their sortie.
‘So we’re going to avoid all that lot and take the pretty route. On takeoff, we’ll form into two pairs in loose formation and transit due east, overflying Seoul. We’ve already received diplomatic clearance, and I’ll give you contact frequencies, callsigns, SSR codes and procedures for the en-route radar units at the end of this briefing. The peninsula’s about a hundred miles wide, and to conserve fuel we’ll transit at high level – I hope around thirty thousand feet, but it’ll depend upon the clearance we get from Seoul.
‘There’s no point in trying to sneak across at low level because the North Koreans have really good radar coverage of the area south of the DMZ and they’d definitely see us, which would probably make them even more suspicious than they may already be. By transiting at high level I’m hoping they’ll think it’s just another border patrol.
‘Once we go feet-wet over the Sea of Japan we’ll turn south-east so that we’re not perceived as a threat by North Korean air defence radars, and then start a cruise descent. By my calculations, and based on the route I’ve worked out, we should drop below the North Korean radar horizon when we get below five thousand feet. We’ll continue descent to fifteen hundred feet and turn port onto a northerly heading, to keep us at least thirty miles clear of the coast.’
He replaced the aeronautical chart with a more detailed version which showed the east side of the peninsula.
‘When we reach here – one two nine degrees east, thirty-nine degrees north – we split into two pairs and turn towards our respective targets. Viper will track approximately zero one zero towards Hochon, and Cobra three four five for Mayang. Once established on track, both pairs will descend to five hundred feet, and jettison drop tanks at least two miles before reaching the coast.
‘Vipers will hit Hochon first, then turn east for No-dong, as the two sites are very close together. When those attacks have been completed, your escape vector will be one four zero, giving you the shortest possible track to the coast. Then head south-east until you’re clear of North Korean territorial waters, before turning west once you’re south of the Demilitarized Zone. If you have to land in South Korea it shouldn’t be a problem. The major airfields have been briefed that one or more British fighters may be carrying out practice diversions today. I’ll give you contact frequencies and landing charts at the end of this briefing. And, in extremis, there are plenty of roads and hard surfaces you can land on.
‘If your aircraft is damaged and you can’t make it back, try to get over the Sea of Japan before ejecting. The water’s fairly warm, and your survival time should be several hours. As you know, Edinburgh and Portland are operating to the east of the Korean Peninsula and, if you do ditch, their helicopters will be available to rescue you. That assumes, of course, that the sky isn’t full of enemy fighters. If you eject over North Korean territory, you’re on your own.’
He turned to Commander (Air). ‘Where’s the Sea King, Blackie?’
‘It should be in position shortly,’ Roger Black replied. ‘We’ve sent an AEW Sea King east of the peninsula, and the bagman will call traffic on your discrete frequency, using callsign November Alpha. He’ll use simple codes: Alpha for a clean picture; Bravo for single contacts and Charlie for multiple bandits. The King flew out there about an hour ago, and by now it should be refuelling from Edinburgh using HIFR. That’s another possible rotary-wing rescue aircraft, but the crew’s first priority is calling hostile contacts. The aircraft will only be available for SAR operations once the tactical phase of the mission is over.’
‘Thanks,’ Richter said. ‘Now, Cobras – Splot and I – have drawn the short straw. Mayang is near the coast, and we should get there at about the same time as Vipers hit Hochon, so it will still be a surprise attack. Our problem is Ok’pyong. From Mayang we’ll have to turn south-west and it’s a seventy-odd-mile overland transit. It’s certain that by the time we get there the NK defences will have been alerted and, frankly, our chances of getting through the anti-aircraft barrage they’ll throw up will be fairly slim.’
Richter stopped talking and eyed the men sitting in front of him. None seemed particularly perturbed by anything he’d said so far, but he hadn’t expected they would be. Harrier pilots are among the elite of the fast-jet world, used to handling a difficult aircraft under the most demanding conditions. And, as was comprehensively demonstrated in the Falklands War, the aircraft itself is enormously capable. In that conflict the Harrier was both outnumbered and outperformed by the aircraft flown by the Argentine Air Force, but despite this suffered no casualties in air combat and shot down twenty enemy jets. Richter wasn’t worried about air combat – he thought the Harrier could hold its own against anything the North Koreans flew apart from the Foxbat – but the sheer number of SAMs scared him.
‘Any questions?’ Four heads were shaken in unison. ‘Above all, remember to watch out for the SAMs.’ Richter held up three envelopes. ‘Right, these are data packs listing the frequencies, squawks and so on. They’re classified Secret because of the information they contain on South Korean airfields, so remember to dispose of them correctly once you get back from this little excursion. The EMCON policy is unrestricted whilst we’re under South Korean control, but keep communications on our discrete frequency to a minimum, as the last thing we want is to alert the North Koreans by unnecessary radio chatter.
‘Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ll shred this lot here and meet you in the ACRB for a plate of
low-cholesterol bacon butties in five minutes. We should aim to get airborne in about three quarters of an hour.’
Pyongyang, North Korea
Kim Yong-Su was awoken by the telephone ringing. Like most other North Korean senior officials, he’d taken to sleeping in his office so that he could be contacted immediately by the leadership.
‘Kim Yong-Su,’ he announced, glancing at the wall clock.
‘It’s Pak Je-San,’ the caller replied.
‘Yes?’ Kim’s voice was noticeably more abrupt now he realized he wasn’t addressing the ‘Dear Leader’. ‘What do you want?’
‘I’m not sure it’s significant, but two of our radar units – the stations at Ongjin and Haeju – have detected the launch of four aircraft from the British warship that’s been operating west of Seoul.’
‘That ship has been flying aircraft regularly for the last two days.’
‘I know, but all those flights have remained within patrol areas over the Yellow Sea. These aircraft have climbed to high level and headed into South Korea. None of the aircraft have done that before. Judging by their secondary radar returns, they’re now being controlled by the radar unit at Seoul.’
Kim Yong-Su sat down at his desk and thought for a few seconds. ‘You were right to call me, Pak. If the British were intending a preemptive strike against our missile bases, they’d probably cross into the Sea of Japan and then launch an attack from there.’
‘But we have no quarrel with the British.’
‘No,’ Kim replied, ‘but they’re still the best friends the imperialist Yankees have. If Washington says “Jump”, all the spineless British ever say is “How high?” It looks as if you were right, Pak. The only surprise is that the British are doing the Americans’ dirty work for them. I must pass on this information at once. Ensure that all our southern radar stations are warned about these aircraft, then launch our interceptors and alert the missile bases.’
Kim put down the phone and reached out a hand for the red telephone. Before picking it up he looked again at the clock. It was very early, but he knew the information couldn’t wait. The high command had to be informed. The next phase of the plan was about to be implemented.
E2-C, callsign ‘Alpha Three’, Sea of Japan
‘Climax, this is Alpha Three.’ ‘Climax’ was the USS Enterprise’s tactical voice radio callsign.
‘Alpha Three, Climax. Go ahead.’
‘Climax, we’re feeding you data through the JTIDS and we’re not seeing much we didn’t expect north of the DMZ. But we’ve just picked up four contacts in the Yellow Sea, heading east towards Seoul and wearing South Korea-block squawks. It’s subjective, but they looked to us like carrier-launched aircraft. We were briefed to expect one contact in that area sometime this morning, not four. Can you check with Intelligence and get an update?’
‘Alpha Three, stand by.’ There was a short pause while the radar operator in the Combat Information Center on the Enterprise consulted someone, then he replied. ‘Nothing known by us or the JIC, Alpha Three. We understood one aircraft. We’ll request a flash check with Homeland Intelligence.’
‘Roger that.’
USS Enterprise, North Pacific Ocean
William Rodgers was, like the captains of all US Navy carriers, a highly experienced aviator. He had over three thousand hours in the F-14 Tomcat, an aircraft he’d been sad to see finally retire, though he had to acknowledge there were undeniable advantages to the new F/A-18 Super Hornet. And, though his craft now displaced ninety-four thousand tons, he still thought like a pilot.
The moment he heard the exchange between the Hawkeye and the radar operator he strode across the CIC and peered at the officer’s display. It was linked to the E2-C’s sensors through the JTIDS (Joint Tactical Information Distribution System) and the four contacts, now well into South Korea and still heading east, were clearly displayed.
‘That’s them?’ he asked, bending forward to point at the returns on the radar screen.
‘Yes, sir. The Hawkeye reported them first appearing over the Yellow Sea, pretty much where that little British carrier is supposed to be operating.’
‘Those carriers may be small, Lieutenant,’ Rodgers growled, ‘but they still pack a serious punch.’ For a few seconds he just stared in silence at the screen.
The signal that was still tucked in his hip pocket was absolutely unequivocal: he was to do nothing that might provoke or irritate the North Koreans, just in case they decided that hitting Los Angeles with a nuclear weapon was the most suitable response.
That was one factor.
The other factor was right there on the radar screen in front of him: the tiny, relatively slow-moving returns that he knew represented four British Harriers embarking on a mission that wasn’t quite suicidal, but certainly came close. Four subsonic single-pilot aircraft trying to carry out strike missions – strike missions actually requested by Washington – and facing not only an air force on high alert that could field in excess of eight hundred fighters, but entering territory that was guarded by one of the highest concentrations of surface-to-air missile and gun systems in the world.
Rodgers knew what his orders were, knew that they were clear and concise and absolutely specific, and knew what the consequences were likely to be if he ignored them. But he couldn’t forget his hours in the driving seat of a Tomcat, the feeling of loneliness and vulnerability when approaching a hostile environment, and knew that the four men in the Harriers would be feeling exactly the same.
He stood up straight, his decision made. It was, he hoped, the right one, but he’d accept the consequences later if it turned out he was wrong. He muttered something under his breath that sounded to the radar operator suspiciously like ‘Fuck Washington’, then issued his orders.
‘OK, we were expecting a single contact to follow a similar track to that. My guess is that the Brits decided to fly more than one aircraft. Get the Prowlers and the Hornets warmed up in case they need any help. Advise me the moment they clear the coast and start to drop.’
Cobra and Viper formation, above South Korea
The Senior Pilot in Cobra One was to the right and ahead of Richter’s GR9, Viper One and Two half a mile behind. From just over thirty-five thousand feet, the mountainous countryside of the Korean Peninsula looked starkly beautiful, the early-morning sun casting enormous shadows that turned whole valleys into black pits. They were approaching the coastline about ten miles north of Kangnung, and preparing for descent.
They’d contacted Seoul as they approached the coast and received immediate clearance to climb and cross the peninsula. They’d also confirmed with the controllers that other Sea Harriers might be landing in South Korea during the morning, but obviously hadn’t explained why.
‘Cobra Two, Vipers, switch to tactical on stud four.’
Richter switched frequency and checked in. ‘Cobra Two.’
‘Viper One.’
‘Viper Two.’
‘Roger, Cobra Two, Vipers. Stand by for rate one right turn onto one four zero in thirty seconds.’
‘Roger.’
‘Cobras, Vipers, turn now, now, now.’
As the Senior Pilot finished the sentence, all four aircraft swung gently to the right – a rate one turn being comparatively slow – and steadied on their new heading.
‘Cobras, Vipers, this is November Alpha.’
‘November Alpha, Cobra One, you’re loud and clear.’
‘Roger, Cobra Lead. You’re identified, Picture Alpha.’
Just under six minutes later the four Harriers throttled back and began a cruise descent. Passing twelve thousand feet, their Radar Warning Receivers showed the last of the North Korean surveillance radars beginning to lose contact, and by the time they reached eight thousand, the RAWs were silent.
‘Cobras, Vipers, stand by for a hard port turn onto north. Turn now, now, now.’
The moment they steadied, and passed five thousand feet in descent, Long ordered them to accelerate. Their com
paratively slow speed and turn away from North Korea might have fooled the DPRK radar controllers, but none of them felt like betting on it. Their best weapons now were speed and surprise.
USS Enterprise, North Pacific Ocean
In the CIC, the radar operator called out to the captain. ‘Sir, those four contacts have cleared the east coast of South Korea, but they turned south-east and they’ve just started to descend.’
‘Of course they’re heading away from North Korea. They’re not stupid. If they’d turned towards the north, every radar station above the DMZ would have been tracking them, and feeding their coordinates to their SAM sites. Just keep watching. When they’re low enough, they’ll head north.’
Pyongyang, North Korea
‘Sir,’ the voice of the radar supervisor at the coastal radar station sounded calm and controlled, ‘those four aircraft are now heading away from us, and they’ve started descending. I suggest they’re probably just on a regular patrol, and therefore no direct threat to us.’
‘You could be right,’ Kim Yong-Su replied, ‘but your orders are perfectly clear. We still believe they may be planning an attack, so continue watching the areas out to the south and east, and inform me the moment you see any sign of them returning.’
USS Enterprise, North Pacific Ocean
‘You’re right, sir. They’ve turned north and increased speed. They’re not squawking Mode Charlie, but the Hawkeye estimates they’re down below two thousand feet.’
‘Got that,’ Rodgers said, and opened the intercom link to PriFly. ‘CAG, this is the Captain. What’s the state of play with the Hornets?’
‘Ready to go, sir. I’ve eight interceptors fully prepped, plus four fitted with refuelling pods that I’ll send off about forty minutes afterwards to pick them up on the way back.’
‘And the Prowlers?’
‘Two waiting on the bow catapults, sir, as you ordered.’
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