Brown, Dale - Independent 02

by Hammerheads (v1. 1)

  “Do you need him for anything in particular?” Elliott asked.

  “He was going to fill in the Caribbean radar picture for us until we got the Navy ships on-line,” Hardcastle said, “but I don’t think we’re going to see too many smugglers coming through here for a while, they’ll be too worried they’ll get their asses shot down by an F-16. I can kick him loose.”

  “Good. Patrick, recover him in Aladdin City and begin the software change as soon as you can. Ian, get the Seagulls armed and ready to fly. We’ll see if we can’t put together a ‘patrol’ with them tonight.”

  Border Security Force Headquarters, Aladdin City, Florida,

  Two Hours Later

  The ramp area of the Hammerheads’ aircraft-parking area was ablaze with lights and bustling with activity as at least one AV-22 Sea Lion tilt-rotor landed or lifted off every three minutes. Fuel trucks scurried among the parked aircraft, refueling and servicing each plane minutes after it landed. There were ambulances parked near the headquarters building with their rotating lights on but with no sirens—there was no need for hurry, no survivors had yet been found from Hammerhead One.

  On the opposite side of the parking ramp the area was not as brightly lit and was more secluded but it was just as active with men pulling dark, bat-like shapes from storage hangars.

  One by one the unusual-looking devices were prepared. A fuel truck serviced each of these aircraft, but the refueling operation took far less time than for the big tilt-rotor aircraft—more like putting gas into the family car at the corner service station, even to the extent of checking the engine oil and wiping the “windshield,” in this case, the bulbous six-inch-round glass sensor eye on the very nose of the Seagull long-range drone.

  After refueling and the service check, armorers came out and fitted two fiberglass tubes onto the drones, one under each wing near the fuselage. Each tube was about three and a half inches in diameter and six feet long and weighed only forty pounds; two men could snap on a canister to a Seagull drone with ease. The canisters contained one Sea Stinger missile along with its remote-controlled firing system and a rocket-motor exhaust-deflection system to keep the missile’s first-stage exhaust gases—which ejected the missile from the canister and far enough away from the drone to safely ignite the main rocket motor—from damaging the drone’s propeller. Along with the six- missile Sea Stinger pod and the Chain Gun pod on the AV-22 Sea Lion aircraft that was going along on the mission, they would be carrying a total of forty-six deadly missiles.

  While the aircraft were quickly, quietly, fitted out, the crewmen were being briefed in one of the offices in the drone’s maintenance hangar. Elliott had a map of the Caribbean on an easel—for an unauthorized, secret operation such as this, there were no sophisticated computer-generated graphics or presentations.

  “The Hammerheads were dealt a blow tonight,” Elliott began. “The latest word is thirty-five dead and five missing from the Hammerhead One platform. Three people, including two children, were killed at the CARABAL aerostat site during the attack. There were injuries sustained at the KEYSTONE site. One Air Force pilot is injured. Three of our four aerostats in the area have been destroyed or heavily damaged. The losses we sustained run into the billions.

  “Earlier today I organized a mission into a remote Haitian airstrip called Verrettes, where we suspected a good deal of smuggling activity has been originating. Patrick McLanahan and one of my pilots from Nevada flew the mission. They landed, and the pilot actually spoke with the commander of the base, a Colonel Salazar. While at Verrettes, McLanahan and his partner observed several makes of sophisticated and heavily armed jets, including Russian MiG-2 Is, French Mirages, Aero Albatros attack planes and FMA Pucara ground-support aircraft. Salazar, an ex-Cuban Air Force officer, is supposedly a local militia commander, yet he commands an air force superior to that of any country in the Caribbean basin except Cuba itself.

  “That was this morning. It is my strong suspicion that this Salazar organized an air strike against our aerostat stations in retaliation for our reconnaissance mission and to knock out our capability to interdict his drug-smuggling planes. The weapon load, flight characteristics, range and profile of the aircraft used in the air strikes all match those of the aircraft found at Verrettes, and match no other nation’s air force except Cuba’s, and we have no evidence to link Cuba with this act.

  “We also now believe this Salazar and his group were responsible for attacks against the Coast Guard and Customs Service dating as far back as the Mahogany Hammock attack three years ago and the downing of a Coast Guard Falcon jet near Bimini, as well as the deliberate murder of children he carried in his smuggling planes in recent weeks. He may have been responsible for as much as fifty percent of the air-smuggling activities in the southeast in the last five years. He was for sure the man in charge of the air strikes tonight

  “So ... by my authority as commander of the Border Security Force I am going to conduct a reconnaissance and surveillance mission into the Caribbean basin, specifically, against the Hispaniola- Cuba-Turks and Caicos area, with special emphasis on Haiti and the air base at Verrettes. Because of the possible threat from Salazar’s forces I am directing that armed drones, controlled from our E-2 Hawkeye aircraft, precede the single AV-22 aircraft that will conduct the mission. I am also directing that if any aircraft is attacked we will respond to protect our lives and insure the success of this mission.”

  Elliott moved away from the front of the office and among the pilots, crewmembers and technicians involved in the mission, looking into the eyes of the heavily armed I-Team members and saying in a quiet matter-of-fact tone, “What I’ve just told you is the official word, my official word, and you will use it if asked later on by competent authority. Otherwise this mission is strictly confidential... You all know, I think, the real objective behind this mission. We’re going in to Verrettes to destroy Salazar’s smuggling operation. If we see any aircraft on the ground at Verrettes, I will order McLanahan to attack them with the Seagull drones. I will also order him to attack any air-defense units, aircraft hangars, communications or maintenance facilities and aircraft shelters. If we don’t encounter too much resistance I’ll order the I-Team to mov e in and destroy any aircraft or key buildings remaining; otherwise the AV-22 will orbit the base and assess damage.

  “We’re going with twenty Seagull drones, each carrying two Sea Stinger missiles. I wish we had more but we can’t get to them without stirring up too much suspicion. If the drones don’t make it all the way into Verrettes because of heavy air defense, we abort the mission. I hope we’ll take out a few of theirs on the way in.

  “We’ll have one AV-22 tilt-rotor, call-sign Lion Two-Nine. Rushell Masters will be the commander in Two-Nine. The mission commander will be myself, flying in Two-Nine’s left seat. Two-Nine will carry a standard Sea Stinger pod and a M230 Chain Gun pod, with only one reload to save weight. We will carry an eight-man I-Team armed and armored, sidearms and rifles with M203 grenade launchers. I also wish we had heavier weapons but we don’t have access to them. The AV-22 will have one RHIB on board.

  “We’ll have one E-2 Hawkeye radar plane, call-sign Lion Seven- One, which will be along primarily to control the drones from the air and secondarily to provide tactical warning for the package. Command of the drone package will be McLanahan aboard the E-2 Hawkeye.

  “For support we’ll have one V-22, Lion Three-Three, configured for inflight refueling for the AV-22 and the Hawkeye if necessary. He’ll stay behind with the Hawkeye but he’ll be armed with Sea Stingers and a Chain Gun pod and can assist in case anything happens at Verrettes. He’ll carry an extra eight thousand pounds of fuel, which should be insurance for the manned aircraft in the package making the round trip.” Elliott looked at a dejected Hardcastle sitting in front of him. “Sorry, Ian, but someone’s got to hold down the fort.”

  “Then let me do it.” The voice came in from the office door. Heads turned to see Sandra GefiFar standing in the doorway weari
ng a flight suit and with her .45 in its shoulder rig. She wore a smile but it couldn’t mask the pain she was feeling as she entered the office and, with Hardcastle’s help, took a desk seat.

  “What are you doing out of the hospital?”

  “I was going to stay there with my platform destroyed and my crew dead? I’m all right. I haven’t heard your whole briefing but I have a few suggestions—”

  “You are not all right . . .”

  “Okay, Dr. Elliott, I’m not one hundred percent, I hurt like hell, but I don’t belong in the hospital. I belong here.” She looked into Elliott’s taut, exhausted face, scanned the other faces in the office. “I’ve had a helluva lot more rest than any of you during the last forty-eight hours. You guys look worse than I feel. How much crew rest have you had? Shall we start sending everyone home here that’s not legally qualified to fly this mission?”

  Elliott kept silent.

  “All right, then. General Elliott, you shouldn’t be in the AV-22— you should be in the E-2 with McLanahan. You can’t command a mission like this and act as copilot in an AV-22 at the same time. Move Ian into the AV-22 with Rush. I’ll take command here with Annette.” She tried to cross her arms on her chest after finishing her pronouncement, thought better after the pain shot through her body, then sat quietly in the chair.

  “All right. Recommendations accepted.” Who could argue? “Ian, you’re in Two-Nine with Rush.”

  Elliott motioned to the map. “We fly with approved flight plans along Alpha-39 to URSUS intersection, then south along Alpha-509. Our due-regard point at which we cease mandatory radio checkpoint reporting is over Great Inagua Island. The E-2 and the tanker V-22 will take up stations southeast of there. The rest of the aircraft will proceed south through the Windward Passage, turn inbound when we’re halfway down the Gonave Gulf, go feet-dry south of the town of Saint-Marc and overland to Verrettes.

  “Our major resistance will come from Verrettes. We’ll cross within thirty miles of the Haitian naval base at Gonaives, but they have no anti-air capability. We may expect possible interference from Cuban aircraft—their closest air bases are at Holguin and Santiago de Cuba, about two hundred miles away—but at night, so far from Cuba, and on approved flight plans until just before overflight, I don’t expect any trouble.

  “Verrettes is defended by anti-aircraft artillery, fighters, and we can expect surface-to-air missiles similar to SA-7s or Stingers. Salazar commands at least two MiG-21s, two Mirage F1C fighters, two Aero Albatros and two FMA Pucara jets. Our Seagull drones will go in first and they’ll plot the locations of any hostile air defense emplacements, map out the base in greater detail, and strike buildings, parked aircraft and other targets of opportunity. Rushell and I will move in after the drones check out the area for any additional reconnaissance information that remains ... available.” In other words, he was thinking, they were the mop-up crew to hit anything the Seagulls missed.

  “We’ll withdraw and head back to Aladdin City for recovery. The mission is fourteen hundred miles with a planned duration of four hours enroute and no more than an hour over Verrettes. That leav es at least an hour for the Seagull drones in reserve. The E-2 has the legs for this mission but the AV-22 will have to refuel. There is no alternate recovery base for the Seagull drones except for Hammerhead Two. If we need to ditch a drone we can mark its position and have us or the Coast Guard retrieve it later. The E-2 and the tilt-rotors may recover in Puerto Rico or the Virgin Islands in case of emergency or if the AV-22 can’t take on fuel. Other possibilities might be Guantanamo, Kew or Grand Turk in the Turks and Caicos Islands, any dry or shallow spot in the Bahamas, or Kingston in Jamaica.

  “I’ve given you weather sheets, flight plans, orders of battle and Border Security Force landing and overflight authorization permits for the Bahamas and the Turks and Caicos Islands in your sortie kits. Stay well clear of Cuban airspace, and stay away from the Dominican Republic except in extreme emergency.” Elliott paused, looking at each crewmember carefully for signs of doubt or confusion or fear. He saw apprehension, nervousness and excitement—and grim determination. They might indeed be afraid of what they were about to do, but they were going in. He saw no heroes—but he did see guys ready to go up against the people that had struck so hard at their own. “Questions?”

  “What support can we expect from the Navy at Guantanamo Bay, sir?” one of the I-Team members asked.

  “Very little. We have no authorization to land. If you need it, get on Navy Fleet Common or GUARD and ask for it, but don’t expect it. Navassa Island, here, west of the Hotte Peninsula of Haiti, might be a good try in an emergency. The Navy has a radio communications facility there. As most of you know, we have confused political relations with Haiti, on-again, off-again, but the people are friendly ...”

  “Which means, take your green and take your plastic,” Rushell Masters said. “These landing and overflight forms don’t mean squat next to a good old American Express card.”

  Elliott was thankful for Masters and his try at humor. “We’re not at war with Haiti or Cuba or anyone, remember that. We’re going in to check out this Salazar and his terrorists in Verrettes. Any more questions? All right. We launch in thirty minutes.”

  Elliott authorized the launch at 3:00 A.M., about five hours after the attack on the Hammerhead One platform began. The E-2 radar plane launched first from the Aladdin City runway in plain sight of reporters and onlookers surrounding the base—it would appear to be a normal part of the recovery operations.

  With the E-2 heading southbound at slow speed, the Seagull drones began to launch. To avoid detection from onlookers the decision was made to launch the drones from an access road paralleling the taxiway opposite the main part of the Border Security F orce complex. The drones needed only a few hundred feet for takeoff, and they would be flying away from the onlookers that crowded the main complex. An arresting net was set up at the end of the access road to catch any drones that had to abort their takeoff runs—and unfortunately two drones didn’t make the launch; one hit the net hard enough to sustain damage, the other was stopped by McLanahan short of the net, serviced and launched minutes later.

  As soon as the drones were launched, checked out for flyability and headed south along with the E-2, the two V-22 tilt-rotors made conventional heavyweight takeoffs from the main highway with the engine nacelles in full airplane rather than in helicopter mode—at their gross weight it would have taken more power, and so more fuel, to make the takeoff in helicopter mode. And they had to save every drop of fuel to insure they had enough while they were over such a heavily defended target as Verrettes. The two departing Sea Lions did cause some speculation as they made their takeoff runs, but only because all the others had made their more spectacular helicopter or hybrid airplane-helicopter takeoffs; in full airplane mode even a Sea Lion was not very unusual.

  For the first hour the flight was very quiet. To be sure a fuel transfer could be made and to keep the tanks topped off while far from a major divert base, the E-2 and the AV-22 each filled up to full tanks from the tanker-modified V-22 when they were fifteen minutes from the orbit point. This meant that the drones had to be put on autopilot for several minutes during both the AV-22’s and E-2’s time on the hose-and-drogue refueling line, since any kind of strong radar emissions created a hazard with fuel vapors anywhere in the area.

  The V-22 unreeled a long hose with a lighted padding-covered metal basket at the end. Once the basket or drogue was unreeled about a hundred feet from the back of the V-22, the E-2 and AV-22 in turn would fly behind the drogue, line up with it and insert a receptacle into the open side of the basket—magnetic clamps would then secure the receptacle to the drogue and fuel was pumped from the tanker V-22 to the receiver aircraft. The E-2 crew, more experienced at night air-refueling, got their unload quickly and easily. Rushell Masters, who had practiced night refuelings only a few times in a simulator, took several minutes to make a contact.

  “This is crazy,” he mutter
ed after his third contact attempt. “It’s like trying to thread a needle at night on a roller coaster.”

  “Just think about how far we have to swim back if you don’t get this refueling,” Hardcastle told him.

  “Hey, it’s tough enough, all right?” Masters made contact on the next try and managed to stay in the basket for a few thousand pounds’ worth of fuel then was forced to pull away on account of wild swings in the refueling env elope.

  “I think you leaked more gas than you put in the tanks, Rush,” Hardcastle said, “but I guess we got enough.” He referred to the computerized checklist on the center console display to finish the post-refueling checklist: “Refueling valves closed, tanks to pressurize, fuel feed and quantity check.” He switched to the command radio: “Two-Nine’s in the green, eleven thousand pounds.” On interphone he ordered, “Station check, crew. Check your gear, check the cabin, check your buddies.”

  “Seven-One in the green, twelve thousand,” the E-2 pilot reported.

  “Connectivity with all Seagulls reestablished,” McLanahan added. “We might have a weapon problem with a coupla birds. I'm checking it out now.”

  “Three-Three’s in the green, fifteen thousand,” the pilot aboard the V-22 tanker replied. He carried six-thousand pounds extra fuel in fuselage ferry tanks. He would top off Lion Two-Nine once more after getting to the orbit point.

  After reaching Great Inagua Island between Cuba and Haiti the E-2 took up a standard figure-eight orbit clear of national airspace boundaries. The two AV-22s and their gaggle of drones turned south and proceeded along the Windward Passage, the narrow strip of water between Cuba and Haiti. As soon as they were established in the air corridor over the Windward Passage they set up for their last refueling before entering Haitian airspace.