Amanda smiled in cold self-irony and spoke into her headset mike.
"Tactical Officer, bring up your HARM flights.
We're going to be killing some radars here in a second."
Down in the CIC, Dix Beltrain made his ordnance-load selections, heating up the missile rounds and listening as the system-support operators verbally verified the opening of the cell doors in the Vertical Launch Arrays. As he prepared his birds to fly, he also prepared his own mind set.
Dix had badly fumbled the first live-fire engagement in which he had ever taken part. By self-admission, it had been due to a combination of fear and buck fever. Since then, though, he had developed his own method of overcoming himself.
It was the same kind of mental conditioning he had used in college when he was quarterbacking for Alabama's CrimsonTide Take up all of your fears, one at a time--the fear of death or injury, the fear of making a mistake, the fear of failure Study each one until you are sure you recognize it for what it is Then put it into a little box in the back of your brain, and don't take it out again until after the crunch is over It worked for him i Dix had just finished locking the lid down when the threat ( boards on his console lit up
' ' Square Tie radars shifting from search to target acquisition mode,"
Frank Mckelsie announced from the stealth bay ' ' are being painted HY 2
batteries preparing | to fire "
Damn Beltrain puzzled How had the Lady been able to figure just when the Reds were about to open up?
"We see it, CIC," Captain Garrett's voice came back over the squawk box
"Secure EMCON1 Bring up all radars and initiate full-spectrum ECM1 All point defenses to Armageddon mode1 I say again, all point defenses to Armageddon mode!"
Damn again, but if the Lady had balls they'd likely be solid brass and a yard wide She actually sounded relieved about the fight being on A ram-sodden Chinese beach suddenly lit to a smoky orange glare An HY-2
heavy antishipping missile lifted off of its launching trailer on a jagged plume of fire Kicked into the sky by its solid-fuel booster rocket, it climbed up and out over the sea
More commonly known in the West by its NATO code name of
"Silkworm," the HY-2 was another elderly weapon A Chinese-produced derivative of the Soviet SSN 2 Styx, it was one of the first of its ship-killing kind Literally a small pilotless airplane, delta winged and turbojet powered, it was designed as a robotic kamikaze, hunting down its target under radar guidance and diving headlong into it in a moment of mutual annihilation.
Despite its comparative crudity, its half-ton warhead could still deliver a shattering punch, granted it was allowed to hit The Cunningham herself answered to the threat As her SPY-2A planar radar arrays detected the launch, a speed-of
light warning was flashed to the network of onboard computers that made up her Aegis battle management system Possibly the closest thing to a true artificial intelligence yet devised by man coolly analyzed the threat and considered its options for a few microseconds Her crew had enabled her to
"Armageddon" mode freeing her to act in her own defense as well as their own Thus she counterfired without waiting for human intervention Matching performance envelopes against intercept potentials the Duke took another microsecond to make an ordinance selection from her arsenal She chose an Enhanced Sea Sparrow Missile, one of a quad pack of such weapons carried in a single cell of her forwardmost Vertical Launch System
Relays closed and a charge of inert, high pressure gas hurled the slender twelve-foot long projectile out of its cell and clear of the deck Its own rocket motor ignited and it arced into the sky The gathering beams of the destroyer's fire control radar acquired the Sea Sparrow and gave it guidance, hurling it toward the oncoming threat Two miles offshore missile and antimissile met The HY-2 had just leveled off from its climb when the smaller, triple sonic interceptor converged on it There was a blue-white flare in the darkened sky and a smear of flame trailed down to the sea
"Vampire down! Vampire down! Initial point defense intercept successful HY-2 is no longer a factor "
"I don't want them to get another try at us Dix," Amanda snapped ' '
that battery radar "
She dropped her eyes to the tactical display again and gauged threats and distances The lead Chinese hydrofoil had closed to a three mile range, close enough for both a possible radar return and a solid torpedo shot
"Second target Lay a Standard in on the lead Communist FAC as well "
"On the way, ma'am "
There was a soft thud from the cold-fire system and a pale, pencil-slender shape lanced out of a VLS cell It seemed to hover over the foredeck for an instant, then an eye-searing dagger of flame stabbed downward from its exhaust nozzle For an instant, ship and sea were illuminated as if by a gigantic arc light, then the fifteen-foot missile was away and accelerating toward the coast The second round followed the first within half a dozen heartbeats, arcing back "over the shoulder" at the Cunningham's pursuers
The Standard SIN 2 had begun its life as a medium range antiaircraft weapon back in the late 1960s Soon, however, it had developed a parallel service career as a HARM, a Homing Anti-Radiation Missile So used, it could be launched against an electromagnetic-emissions source, be it a radio transmitter or radar set, would ride in on the emitter's beam, seeking it out and destroying it--a sharp stick stabbed into the eye of the enemy
The Red coastal artillerymen were quite aware of the existence of HARM
technology As their air defense systems detected the Cunningham's missile launch, a warning was flashed across their net and radar operators slammed hands down on kill switches, powering down their transmitters Too late. The Standard has a superb memory Running on its last fixed range and bearing, the HARM blazed in across the beach Just short of its goal, its proximity fuses triggered, detonating its 214-pound fragmentation warhead. The resulting shotgun blast of tungsten steel shrapnel shredded the HY 2 battery's Square Tie radar van and an tenna array.
Fortunately for the artillerymen, they had a wise battery commander He had sited his transmitter well clear of his deployment area, operating it by remote link As a result, he took only a couple of wounded among his launcher personnel.
The same could not be said for the crew of the lead hydrofoil.
The second Standard exploded directly over the small craft, the hail of hypervelocity metal sweeping all life from its cockpit and weather decks in an instant. With no one at its blood-spattered helm, the boat circled wildly for a minute or two until one of the two surviving crewmen belowdecks realized the totality of the carnage and closed the throttles.
"Bridge," Lieutenant Mckelsie reported from the stealth bay
"All Red radars have powered down We are no longer being painted. "
"Very good, Mr. Mckelsie Fire a full decoy pattern from the RBOCS. CIC, down all radars' Cease radiating and resume full EMCON. Officer of the Deck come left to zero four five."
The Cunningham began to list outward as she came about at high speed As she did, stealthed hatches swung open on her foredeck and superstructure and launcher tubes hurled locket propelled grenades into the sky Seeded out over a wide area the fireworks like bursts produced by the Rapid Blooming Overhead Chaff System spewed out clouds of highly reflective metal foil If the Red radars came up again during the next few minutes, their operators would have to sort through a large number of false targets before they could hope to locate the true return of the fleeing destroyer Amanda had no intention of making it any easier for them either. They had been running to the southeast, with the pursuing Red fast attack craft strung out in a line behind them Now, by veering away to the northeast, she intended to put that line of small craft between herself and the more immediate threat of the mainland shore batteries.
"Mr. Mckelsie do you verify that the Communist radars are still down*?"
"So far, Captain I think we put the fear of God into '."
"Let's hope it holds. Tactical Officer, if you get so m
uch as a flicker, lay another round in on them. Don't wait for my orders, Dix."
"Got my thumb on the button, ma'am."
Two minutes crept by. Three. The main squall line was rolling away to the north and a faint flicker of lightning haunted the horizon. The rain was beginning to slack off, and the quartermaster secured the bridge windscreen wipers and blowers. The sudden silence was unnerving Four minutes. The range from the coast continued to open.
Amanda felt a tightness in her chest and realized that she had literally forgotten to breathe. The FLIR systems were coming back on line as the atmosphere cleared, and they momentarily caught the wake of one of the Chinese hydrofoils, streaming away to the southeast. A little longer and the Duke would be clear.
"Square Tie going active on the mainland!" Mckelsie's exclamation exploded from the 1-MC speaker like a bomb
"Search sweep ... going to target-acquisition mode! He's trying for a snap shot!"
"We have bearing on the battery radar," Dix Beltrain counterpointed.
"Firing on bearing. HARM going out!"
Blue-white fire glared beyond the windscreen, over illuminating every square inch of the bridge interior. The watchstanders recoiled slightly from the crackling roar of the rocket ignition.
"Vampire! Vampire! We have an active HY-2 seeker head!"
"Light off all radars," Amanda snapped. "Bring up point defenses and initiate full-spectrum ECM."
"Hold it, Captain!" Mckelsie interjected. "We are not being targeted!"
"Belay last orders. Maintain full stealth. Are you sure, Mckelsie?"
"Positive, Captain! This is sidelobe only. We are not being targeted.
We're still clean."
"Who's he targeting, then?"
"I have no idea, Captain. It's just not us ... Stand by ... HY-2 seeker head has just gone inactive. HY-2 is no longer a factor."
One of the lookouts spoke up from his monitor. "Visual event bearing two two zero degrees relative off the port quarter.
Appeared to be a detonation flash on the surface, Captain.
Now snowing a continuous thermal flare on that bearing."
"I think the Reds just had a friendly-fire incident, Captain," Arkady said slowly. "I think Wyatt Earp out there just blew away one of his own boats."
"But that's not how they're going to tell it in the press releases."
Suddenly the weight of her helmet was unbearable. Reaching up, Amanda tugged at her chin-strap release and lifted it off. A freed droplet of perspiration trickled down and burned into her eyes. Reaching up again, she swiped it away with the back of her hand.
"Come right to zero nine zero, Arkady. Maintain all engines ahead full.
God, let's just get out of here."
The Day-Glo-yellow life raft rode lightly on the slack sea.
Linked to it by a tether, its combination rescue light and watertight radio beacon bobbed beside it. Bosun Hoong used the once-per-second flash of its strobe as a guide as he towed in the limp form of Lieutenant Zhou.
The bosun rolled over the low, inflated sidewall of the raft, dragging the unconscious man in after him with a modest degree of difficulty.
Positioning Zhou as comfortably as he could, Hoong began methodically investigating the pouches of survival gear that lined the raft's interior.
A chemical light stick was discovered, and Hoong broke its interior capsule and shook it into life. Using its pale-green glow, he examined his commanding officer's injuries. The younger man was breathing easily and the abrasion at his temple was only oozing a thin trickle of blood.
He would likely enough live.
The bosun wrapped Zhou in a Mylar survival blanket taken from another pouch, taking a second one for himself.
He was just settling down at the far end of the raft when he heard Zhou moan and start to stir.
"We are well, Lieutenant," he said.
"Hoong, what has happened?" Zhou exclaimed weakly, trying to pull himself upright.
"Rest quietly, sir. There is nothing to be done. The boat has been sunk and we are in a life raft."
"A life raft?"
"Yes, sir. It was dropped by the ship that ran us down.
They were Yankees, I think."
The bosun gestured off into the hazy darkness. "There is also a fight going on out there somewhere. I've heard missile launches, and just before we reached this raft, I felt an explosion through the water. No telling who is winning."
"The crew! What about the crew?"
"Dead," Hoong replied, grabbing a bar of hard tropic chocolate from a ration pack. "We were broken in two, and the stern sank almost at once.
Enginemen Chang and Waiu and Gunner Zhong went down with it.
"Helmsman Shi, Radioman Feng, and Torpedoman Liau were all crushed in the cockpit by the impact. Gunner Gang was up forward with me, but the young fool had taken off his life jacket." The bosun peeled back the wrapper on the bar. "He drowned, I think."
"The whole crew gone," Zhou whispered. "How could that happen and we still live?"
Hoong took a judgmental bite of the chocolate. "Because it was not yet our time to die, Lieutenant," he replied.
The Cunningham continued her run to the east, all hands still at their battle stations but with her engines slowed to ahead standard. They had crossed back over the Chinese twelve mile limit and the threat boards remained clear. They had successfully disengaged. The fire flash of the crisis had passed. Now the shadow of the aftermath loomed.
On the bridge, Vince Arkady glanced over at the captain's chair. Amanda was seated in it, outlined against the glow of the telescreens, staring out into the darkness, silent and unmoving.
Arkady had known that on this cruise he would be faced with temptation.
However, he had primarily been concerned with the physical variety. He hadn't expected to encounter this deeper, more urgent desire--that of wanting to cross over to his lady in front of God and everybody, and to cradle her in his arms, and to whisper that somehow, everything would be all right.
The overhead speaker cut in, breaking the stillness.
"Captain, this is Raven's Roost." Christine Rendino's voice was a total contrast to his own mood. The Intel didn't sound in the least subdued.
In fact, she sounded positively ebullient. "When you get a second, could you come down here? You've just got to see this!"
PEARL HARBOR, HAWAII 0752 HOURS ZONE TIME; AUGUST 11, 2006
Bright island sunlight flooded the combination kitchen and breakfast nook of Elliot Macintyre's flag quarters.
"But, Dad ... "
The Admiral grinned to himself as he listened to the classic agonized cry of the American teenager. It was a sound he hadn't had a chance to hear often enough in his life.
"Look, Judy," he said in an equitable manner. "I know that all the kids go over to that nude beach at Waimanalo.
I'm also certain that you're mature enough to cope with it.
Unfortunately, I'm not. Forget it."
His daughter, fifteen and growing swiftly into the same kind of midnight-haired beauty that her mother had possessed, sighed dramatically and turned back to the kitchen range. Macintyre grinned outright and returned his attention to the morning paper.
As with anyone doing duty in the services, his career responsibilities had kept him away from his family far more than he had liked. With Judy, his youngest child, and the only one still living at home, he was enjoying his last opportunity at fatherhood.
Breakfast had become an unspoken pact between father and daughter, an atonement for their many separations. Come hell or high water, they would try to sit down at the same table and eat together as a family at least once each day.
"Then can I at least go over to Kirn's this afternoon?"
Judy went on, deftly popping slices of Canadian bacon into a hot pan.
"Is everybody going to have their clothes on?"
"Father!"
"Be my guest."
The phone rang, and Macintyre pushed his chair back f
rom the table.
"I'll get it."
"Okay. How do you want ', scrambled or fried?"
"Scrambled. Two."
He crossed over into the living room with its split-bamboo paneling and comfortable, eclectic collection of furnishings.
The telephone deck was located on a reading table at the end of the couch.
"Macintyre," he said crisply into the handset.
"Admiral, this is Commander Doyle over in Operations." Macintyre recognized the voice and the name of his morning duty officer. He also recognized the formalized urgency in the man's speaking demeanor. "This communication will require a secure line, sir."
Macintyre reached down and keyed the tap nullifier and scrambler on the phone's security unit, pausing a second to verify that the check lights came on.
"We're secure, Commander. Go ahead."
"There has been a problem with Operation Uriah, Admiral."
The watch officer's voice now carried the slight stammering buzz of a digitally encrypted telecommunication line.
"The Cunningham has been involved in a live-fire incident off the Chinese mainland."
Macintyre's jaw tightened and he felt his heart rate begin to climb.
"Specifics?"
"A missile exchange with Red coastal batteries. Also with their light forces. Two, possibly three, FAC engaged and sunk."
"How about the Duke? Has she taken damage?"
"No damage or casualties reported. Captain Garrett has apparently successfully disengaged and is clearing the area now. She is requesting to talk with you, sir."
"Right. Inform CINCPAC and Seventh Fleet. I'll be down in five minutes."
Macintyre hung up the phone and reached for his uniform cap sitting atop the living-room bookcase.
Out in the kitchen, Judy had overheard Macintyre's end of the conversation. Swiftly, she stacked half of the bacon between two slices of toast and had the ad hoc sandwich wrapped in a paper towel, ready for her father as he passed through enroute to the garage. He accepted it and gave her a quick hug in return before striding on.
"Sorry, honey. I have to go."
"I understand."
She did. She was an admiral's daughter.
Truth be told, Macintyre wheeled his elderly Porsche Targa into his parking slot behind the administration complex within four minutes of his hanging up. He gritted his teeth at the sentry post, begrudging his own orders that made an active security check mandatory for everyone entering NAVSPECFORCE headquarters, including himself.
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