Dale Brown - Sky Masters

“Where are the Tomahawks?” Cobb asked. McLanahan touched an icon on his SMFD, and several blinking objects and a short data list appeared on the God’s-eye view. The Tomahawk cruise missiles could be interrogated just like a manned aircraft. “About ten miles ahead of the B-52s and not far behind us. We’ll go feet-dry, turn west, and let the Tomahawks go past us as they head inland; when they get ahead of us, we’ll head north and proceed to our targets.” McLanahan studied the display for a moment, then ceased his Mode-2 interrogations-even though the Mode-2 signals were encoded and transmitted in very short bursts, the enemy could still track an aircraft from them. “Looks like about half the Tomahawks are still with us.”

“Good, ” Cobb said. “I’d just as soon let those puppies beat the bushes for us. ABOARD THE DESTROYER HONG LUNG The grease-board plotting technician drew a line from a frigate icon near the mouth of Davao Gulf to near the tiny village of Kiaponga. Out of all the other dots, circles, icons, and lines on the board, that one line commanded Admiral Yin’s attention. “What is that?” he asked. “Sir, frigate Xiamen reports a weak UHF signal along this bearing, ” the situation officer replied. “Several microburst transmissions. Computer projection calling it a possible aircraft, airspeed eight hundred kilometers per hour, heading northwest.” Yin seemed to be transfixed by this line. “Any primary radar target? Altitude readout?”

“No, sir.” “Do they have an analysis of the signal itself?”

“Not yet, sir.” Captain Sun was completely perplexed-a destroyer and a frigate were coming under attack, but Yin was wondering about a microburst radio transmission. “Sir, Jinan is under attack by antiship missiles again-he cannot hold out much longer. We must assist him. I recommend ordering him to withdraw to the west so we can provide surface-to-air missile coverage for him. And we should head farther to the northeast to provide similar coverage for Xiamen-he is tracking numerous Tomahawk cruise missiles heading in his direction as well as the B-52 bombers… “I want to know what that signal was, Captain.”

“Very well, sir, ” Sun replied. “And as for Jinan and Xiamen… ?”

“Steer Hong Lung northeast to cover Davao Gulf as much as possible, but/inan will hold its position, ” Yin said with a hint of exasperation in his voice. “They have almost as much fire power as we do, and they have more escorts. I will not allow my ship commanders to start running all over the Celebes Sea at the first sign of trouble. I also want a report on our fighter coverage-I have not seen one fighter on that board since the first group of J-7s and Q-5s were engaged.” A few moments later a new manual plotting technician took over on the vertical-plot greaseboard, and he began filling in icons for a group of fighters just west of Mount Apo. “Sir, fighter groups fourteen, with six total Jianjiji-7 fighters, and composite fighter-attack group two, with three Qiangjiji-5 fighters and three A-5K fighter-bombers, are thirty-seven kilometers west of Mount Apo, ” Captain Sun reported. “They will be on station over Davao Gulf in three minutes.” Yin slammed a fist down on the table before him and hissed, “That is not good enough! We’re supposed to have a hundred fighters available to us on this operation, and there are only twelve? I had better see two more groups airborne immediately. I want all available J-7 and Q-5 fighters airborne immediately to attack the inbound bombers. “It will be done immediately, sir… but I must remind you that it leaves no Q-5 fighters available for close air support for our Marines, ” Sun said. “The Q-5 and the A-5 are the only planes we have that can aerial refuel. Also, few of these aircraft are equipped for night combat “We will have no Marines to provide close air support for if we do not stop these bombers!” Yin shouted. “Launch all available fighters now! And I want two fighters dispatched to search along the projected trackline of that microburst transmission. I want nothing to get past our defenses and strike our Marines… nothing!” The updated NIRTSat data feed came in just as Cobb and McLanahan’s B-2 crossed the coastline south of Kiaponga. Cobb had reactivated the terrain-comparison COLA computer, and they were snaking just two hundred feet above the lush coastal hills and valleys of the Sarangani Peninsula of southern Mindanao. On his Super Multi Function Display, McLanahan could see the updated positions of three Tomahawk cruise missiles that were to go in ahead of his B-2 Black Knight bomber; the computer used the missile’s last reported heading and speed, along with a knowledge of the missile’s pre-programmed flight plan, to estimate the missile’s position. “We’ll be ready for a turn in about sixty seconds, ” McLanahan told Cobb. The aircraft commander clicked his mike in response. The terrain sloped up steeply from the eastern cliffs facing the Celebes Sea in the Glan River Valley; the valley was at least six miles wide and did not rise as steeply on the west side. “Stay on the west slope of the coastal hills, on the ‘military crest, ’” McLanahan said. “It’s not the best place to be, but it’s better than getting trapped down in the valley. The hills should shield us from the warships off the coast as well.” Another double click in response as Cobb banked the B-2 gently right and began flying north-northeast along the western side of the coastal hills, not flying too high but not diving too deeply into the valley. McLanahan expanded his SMFD out to sixty miles’ range. At the top of the north-up display was their primary target, the radar site on Mount Apo. A yellow-colored dome surrounded the point, representing the range of the Chinese radar site operating there-that was their target. The edge of the yellow dome did not quite touch the B-2 icon-not because they were out of the radar’s range, but because the energy levels being recorded from the radar were less than those required to get a radar return off the stealth bomber. From that radar site the Chinese could vector in fighters against every American bomber in the strike package. McLanahan immediately designated the top of the mountain as the target for two SLAM missiles, programming in evasive turnpoints and data-link activation points and checking the Global Position System satellite signal for good navigational data feed to the missiles. He had to program in a terminal “pop-up” maneuver for the missiles in order to hit the radar domes from above rather than from the side. The one deficiency with the SLAM missile system over land was that the aircraft that was to steer the missile onto its target needed to have a clear line-of-sight radio signal between the two-that meant climbing away from the radar-clutter sanctu ary of the terrain, which could expose the launch aircraft to enemy radar. The navigation-missile control computer interface would advise Cobb and McLanahan when it was time to climb, based on the bomber’s altitude and the signal strength-usually it commanded a climb in time to establish a clear signal sixty seconds before missile impact. Fortunately the B-2’s low radar cross-section made it less vulnerable to enemy radar than other SLAM-capable launch aircraft. “Missile programmed, Henry, ready for launch Just as he said those words, two red-colored triangles appeared at the top of the display, with yellow arcs extending from the apex of the triangles out toward the B-2’s icon at the bottom of the scope-again, the arcs did not quite touch the icon, probably because of the B-2’s stealth characteristics. “Fighters at ten o’clock, forty miles, ” McLanahan said. “Two. . . now showing six, at least six, heading this way. I don’t think they see us yet “Fighter group fourteen, your targets are at thirty nautical miles, twelve o’clock, airspeed four-fifty, altitude less than one hundred meters, ” the radar controller on Mount Apo reported. “Suspected cruise missiles heading northwest. Recommend right break and spacing for single intercept. Composite group two, your bandits are at eleven o’clock, twenty-seven miles. Groups fourteen and two, your flight leaders are directed to depart your formations for special patrols designated Group Delta. Delta, come right to heading one-six-eight, take one-thousand-meters altitude and switch to controller frequency gold. Acknowledge.” Two fighters broke out of the pack of fighter-bombers and headed southeast: a JS-7 fighter and an A-5K fighter-bomber. The A-5K was the upgraded version of the Q-5 good-weather attack plane, with sophisticated Aeritalia-made avionics that gave it an all-weather bombing capability, including a lowlight TV camera and laser rangefinder. “Group Delta, unidentified bogey possible at low altitude, estimated position at your twelve o’clock position, forty nautical miles. Report identification and pursue. Over.” The two enemy aircraft triangles did not appear right away, and when they did appear their radar arcs immediately swept across the B-2 icon. “Two fighters separated from the rest of the pack, ” McLanahan shouted. “Twelve o’clock. X-band search radars. They might have spotted us.” The B-2 had just left the protective cover of the coastal hills of the Sarangani Peninsula and was now racing across the Buayan River valley, a flat, fertile area about forty miles southwest of Davao. The lone peak of Mount Apo was the only significant terrain around for fifty miles-it was the worst moment to be caught by fighters. To the east, ten miles southwest of Davao, the icons of several warships were just visible. “We’ve got a little rolling terrain about twenty miles to the west, and nothing but Davao Gulf and another destroyer off to the east, ” McLanahan said. “Otherwise it’s flat, flat, flat. The fighters are at our twelve o’clock… getting a range estimate now of twenty-two miles. They’ll be in missile range soon. “We go west then, ” Cobb said. He banked his B-2 hard to the left, scurrying across the wide valley for the relative safety of a hilly ridge. “Fifteen minutes until we reach that ridge . . . about two minutes, ” McLanahan reported. “Bandits one o’clock, fifteen minutes…” At that moment one of the yellow arcs representing the enemy’s radar swept across the B-2 icon, and the yellow instantly turned to red as the radar locked on. “Shit, shit, shit, they got us. . The heads-up display on the Chinese JS-7 first locked onto the air target briefly, and the attack radar quickly computed the target’s altitude, heading, airspeed, and closure rate-but it was the A-5K’s low-light TV sensor that first caught a glimpse of the enemy. The sensor’s contrast-tracking function immediately locked onto the warm object and began to track it . . And, as the target made a slight turn to the west, there was no mistaking its identity-the pilot of the A-5K saw the distinctive boomerang profile of an American B-2 bomber. “A stealth bomber! Stealth bomber!” the A-5 pilot shouted excitedly on the command radio. “Very low, heading west.. .” He was so excited that he forgot to give a proper report. . And he also forgot he was in formation with another airplane. The two Chinese planes almost collided as the AS pilot turned westward to try to keep the fast-flying bomber within his low-light TV’s field of view. “Kong Yun One-Seven, hold your position!” the JS-7 pilot shouted. “Formation coming right to intercept. Control, this is Delta, we have an American B-2 stealth bomber on radar, turning to intercept at this time. But as they did, extremely heavy jamming from the B-2 continually broke radar-lock-the massive energy even put the Cyrano-IV radar in “Reset” twice. “Kong Yun OneSeven, ” the JS-7 pilot asked of the A-5K pilot, “do you still have him on your TV sensor?” “Affirmative, Jian, Zero-Niner.”