by Adam Yoshida
He looked around the CIC. The officers and sailors there, flush with victory, were ready to go. If he ordered them into battle, they would jump forward at this particular moment with an adrenaline-fuelled surge of energy.
Yet , he thought, what would be the gain? The enemy fleet is already almost-entirely depleted. We did far more damage to them than they did to us. What are we pressing on for if we continue the attack, when the objective is to take this army home?
"Change our course," ordered Layton, "maintain our patrols, but put us back on a course that will take us to North Carolina."
Russian Aircraft Carrier Admiral Kuznetsov, 1275 Miles East of Puerto Rico
Still wearing his flight suit, the pilot came running into the Admiral's bridge of the Russian Carrier.
"Halt!" ordered the non-commissioned officer who was performing security for Vice Admiral Dimtry Khvostov, who commanded the Russian portion of the Combined Fleet.
"Let me through!" insisted the pilot.
Admiral Khvostov looked up, sized up the sweat-soaked pilot, and then waved his hand, inviting the young man on through.
"To what do I owe the honor?" he asked, slightly amused.
"Admiral, I know that this is irregular," said the pilot, a slight shake in his voice, "but my squadron commander..."
He bent over for a second, panting.
"Yes, Lieutenant. Your squadron commander?"
"He didn't want to pass this information up the line. He said that the battle was over and that I should leave it at that."
"But you couldn't or wouldn't do that," said Khvostov.
"Do you have a map?" asked the Lieutenant, pacing.
"We have many maps," replied Khvostov, "that's most of what we do here."
"Let me show you," said the pilot, rushing over to a console that the Admiral pointed to with his hands.
"Now," said the pilot, frantically tracing the map with his hands, "we all know that the main body of the American fleet is here."
He indicated the spot a few hundred miles to the west where the primary missile engagement had occurred, and then continued to allow his hands to drift southwards.
"But I encountered an American aircraft carrier here," he said, stabbing at the screen with his finger in a position far from any that was indicated upon the map itself.
"Oh?" asked Khvostov.
"One Carrier protected by just two of their AEGIS ships. I think that it was two of their Burke -class destroyers. But I wouldn't swear by it. Check my logs and you'll see."
"And you saw this?" asked Khvostov.
"They shot at me," insisted the pilot, "I barely got away with my life."
"Which way were they moving?" asked the Admiral, leaning forward as he spoke.
"They were headed to the southwest," said the pilot, "they were headed in the other direction versus the rest of the fleet. I swear upon everything that it is so."
"Well," said Admiral Khvostov, stroking his beard, "you have done a very noble and brave thing in bringing this to me. If you're not shot for disobeying your orders, then there's a good chance that we're going to give the Americans another chance to try and kill you."
HMS Queen Elizabeth (R08) , 1305 Miles East of Puerto Rico
Admiral Childers looked blank-faced at the video screen.
"You must be quite mad, Admiral Khvostov," he said, "we are getting out of here with all possible speed. We have certainly slowed them and done our duty."
"Slowed them, perhaps." agreed Khvostov, "but they have gotten the better of us so far on this day. My force alone has lost two ships to the American missiles."
"I fail to see how we can improve upon that now, sir."
"We were facing the combined might of the whole American battlegroup at once, Admiral. In this case we would be fighting only a small portion of it," said Khvostov.
"Do you have any idea when these ships were detached?" asked Childers, "for all we know, they may have entirely fresh magazines."
"I know that your ships are damaged," said Khvostov, "and so I am not asking that you turn them around and throw them directly into this engagement. All that I am asking is that you provide us with enough air cover to allow our missiles to get through. The Kirov and Kuznetsov can, combined, throw thirty-six Shipwreck missiles towards those ships. Give us enough extra cover and combine it with the planes that we can throw into the air and I think that we can make the case that this is a victory."
"I am in command of the Combined Fleet," insisted Childers, "and we are going home."
"It is, of course, your right to insist upon that, Admiral," replied Khvostov, "but, of course, I am accountable to my national government and if I should be asked afterwards by, for example, the President why we did not triumph in the battle, I would have little choice but to single out this particular moment."
Goddamned Russians , thought Childers, though he did not say it.
"It would be quite impossible and irresponsible, given the condition of the fleet overall, to alter course and to attempt to have the main body of the fleet join with you. You, however, are the commander of the Russian forces here and, if - in your absolute judgement - this is a risk that you believe has a reasonable possibility of success, then I will give you such support as is physically possible."
"That was all that I was asking for," said the Russian.
"Fight your ships, Admiral," replied Childers coldly.
Fleet Air Arm F-35 Lightning II, 1160 Miles East of Puerto Rico
Lieutenant-Commander Windsor could feel his hands shake as he manoeuvred his F-35 to a lower altitude. It was still a long way back to the Queen Elizabeth and he and his comrades were now caught in a difficult dilemma: the more fuel that they burned evading incoming missiles, the less that they would have to return to their base. The Prince, however, like most of his comrades chose to worry about long-term considerations later.
His HUD showed that he had an AMRAAM headed right for him. The F-35 was equipped with the latest low-observable technologies, but the United States military not only had the latest radar equipment, but they also had the distinct advantage of being from the nation that had designed the Lightning II.
"Move, move move," whispered the Prince to himself as he accelerated and pulled the plane closer and closer to the surface of the water. He could see that the AMRAAM was still chasing him.
Watching his display, Windsor could see one friendly aircraft after another disappearing. A sick thought suddenly seized him: he could very well be killed by the wreckage of one of those destroyed planes falling down upon him from above. He pushed his throttle to full.
USS Ronald Reagan (CVN-76), 982 Miles East of Puerto Rico
Admiral Layton practically sprinted into the CIC, having taken just a few moments away from his station to relieve himself.
"It looks like most of their air wing, given the information that we're getting from our E-2," said the TAO.
"Russian, French, and British aircraft all there. Around one hundred and thirty," he continued.
"Do you think that's all that they've got left?" asked Layton.
"Well, they must have retained some as a CAP," said the TAO.
"True enough," said Layton.
"I'm going to send our own CAP down to assist," said the CAG, "we can launch replacements immediately and we're still well-covered by our own Surface-to-Air missiles."
"Good, good," said the Admiral, before pausing for a second.
"What have we got on the deck?" he asked.
"Four more squadrons. Two each of Super Hornets and Lightnings," answered the CAG.
"Our LRASM stocks?" asked Layton.
"Non-existent," replied the CAG.
"How about old-fashioned iron?" said the Admiral.
Russian Aircraft Carrier Admiral Kuznetsov , 1253 Miles East of Puerto Rico
"All our aircraft are in their launching positions," declared the Russian air wing commander.
"Very well. Launch all missiles," ordered Khvostov.
Within seconds, the first of the enormous SS-N-19 anti-ship missiles began to emerge from their launch tubes. The massive missiles were characteristically Russian: they had incredibly advanced characteristics - indeed, only recently had the newest American model managed to match them in speed and range and they still lagged behind in terms of their payload capacity.
The unique design of the Admiral Kuznetsov meant that the Russian Carrier was able to join the nuclear-powered Battlecruiser Kirov in firing directly upon the American ships. Khvostov silently counted up to twelve as the missiles flew into the air and headed downrange one after another.
"All missiles are away, Admiral," called out the weapons officer.
"Change course by one hundred and eighty degrees," ordered Khvostov.
USS John C. Stennis (CVN-74), 1042 Miles East of Puerto Rico
Captain Joe Brendel watched from the Bridge of the crippled Carrier as the battle unfolded in front of him. For the entire day the crew had been working to counteract the damage done by the three Russian torpedo impacts that had occurred during the morning. The massively-redundant construction of the Nimitz -class carrier had been enough to keep her afloat in spite of punishment that would have sent most of the world's ships to the bottom, but that was all that could be said for the condition of the ship at the moment: it wasn't sinking.
Well, we'll see how long we can say that for , thought Captain Brendel as he watched the tracks of the incoming DU missile strike move across the computer screens in front of him. The counter-missiles from the two destroyers accompanying the Stennis had managed to reduce the total of incoming missiles by more than two-thirds, but there were still plenty of missiles incoming and very little time to go.
The AEGIS system was a technical marvel. Designed under the guidance of Admiral Wayne E. Meyer in a time where an entire room full of computers had less processing power than a modern watch, it was still the best overall fleet defense system in the world. Now a destroyer that bore the name of the creator of its systems was one of the two ships fighting to protect the Stennis.
Standard Missiles flew from the magazines of both of the destroyers. They had been ordered to keep no reserve. Other ships were headed to their aid as fast as they could move and would be there before any plausible second attack wave could arrive. The SM-2s helped, killing a further forty-two of the incoming missiles, but they were not enough to bring the incoming wave to a complete halt.
The typical menagerie of point defense weapons now joined the fray. First Evolved Sea Sparrow Missiles. Then the shorter-range Rolling Airframe Missiles. At last the Phalanx CIWS units began to turn and spew fire in the direction of the incoming missiles. It was not enough.
Captain Brandel watched as one of the Russian Shipwreck missiles bore down straight upon the John C. Stennis . He watched as it popped up and came directly for the Carrier. He watched until he was no longer capable of watching on account of the fact that the missile struck the conning tower of the ship. The fifteen-hundred pound warhead of the massive Russian missile tore apart the structure, killing the Captain and almost everyone else who was inside.
Seconds after the first impact, a second missile hit the hull of the Stennis along the waterline, blowing a massive hole in the side of the ship.
A third missile struck the crippled Carrier squarely on the fight deck, killing exposed crew members and twisting the steel beyond repair.
The Wayne E. Meyer , which had miraculously escaped the destruction , pulled up along side the severely-damaged ship and began to attempt to render what assistance it could, as if to atone for its failure to save it from harm. By the time that the Meyer had pulled up alongside the Stennis, the destroyer Mustin, which had also been hit, had already begun to settle into the water, wholly aflame from one end to the other.
U.S.M.C. F/A-18 Super Hornet, 1210 Miles East of Puerto Rico
Though it had not been strictly in accord with procedures, Admiral Layton had chosen to let Captain Michael Pope and the rest of the pilots of the incoming air strike know just what had happened to the John C. Stennis and Mustin . The utterly rapid pre-mission briefing had told the Marine pilots the rest of the details: the Russian part of the task force had broken off and approached the wounded carrier in order to fire a barrage of surface-to-surface missiles. However, the intelligence team of the Fifth Fleet had done the math: based upon the expenditure of missiles during their earlier engagement, the Russians had to be almost-wholly out of surface-to-air missiles. Given this the commanders of the fleet had decided that it was worth the risk to attempt to press the attack with the fleet's air arm, in spite of their own severe shortages of missiles.
"Enemy fleet sighted," came the call from Ghost, still serving as the primary airborne controller after having been refuelled twice, "approximately twenty-five clicks from your position. You are cleared hot."
Pope and the rest of his squadron were carrying nothing more than ordinary laser-guided bombs (GPS guided bombs being, of course, utterly useless against moving targets at sea, setting aside the questionable reliability of GPS systems).
"Black Sheep, Ghost," called out the AWACS, "you've got Russian fighters incoming, direction two-one-zero. Moving fast. Over."
The Fifth Fleet's primary strike was now colliding with the portion of the Combined Fleet that was in the process of returning to their own carriers.
"All units," came the voice of the CAG through the radio net, "turn and engage the enemy strike."
Pope's Super Hornet lumbered to the right, weighed down by the load of bombs that it was carrying. However, like most of the planes involved in the strike, his fighter was also carrying a pair of medium-range air-to-air missiles.
"Fox Three," Pope called out as the first missile left the rails.
Fleet Air Arm F-35 Lightning II, 1160 Miles East of Puerto Rico
Lieutenant-Commander Windsor yawned in spite of himself. This was the third mission of the day flown by himself and his squadron, each with an absolute minimum turn-around time. Before this operation someone had managed to toss his pilots a handful of sandwiches. Other than that, he hadn't had any downtime since before dawn and it was beginning to show.
"Steady, steady," he said quietly to himself as he noticed a slight wobble in his hands.
He and the rest of the squadron were carrying only a handful of Perseus anti-ship missiles, the rest of the stocks onboard the Queen Elizabeth having been expended during the fighting earlier in the day and with the additional missiles carried onboard the Prince of Wales being quite inaccessible on account of the poor state of that particular ship. To make matters worse, from a supply point of view, fourteen of the surviving F-35s from the Prince of Wales had managed to land onboard the Queen Elizabeth . The British carrier, however, was quite unprepared to store this many additional aircraft and so, for the moment, they were simply being parked anywhere on the flight deck were room could be found and armed with whatever could be found.
The greatly-reduced air contingent of the Combined Fleet had managed to maintain a close radio silence through their movement. In keeping with the late-breaking intelligence that had prompted this mission, they were flying in a long loop to the south before doubling back upon themselves, in the hope of evading detection by the main body of the American task force. Commander Windsor yawned again as his plane moved forward amidst the fading light.
The Prince was jolted awake when his incoming missile alarm went off. The Americans, it seemed, may have been somewhat careless in keeping a small force away from the rest of their ships, but their combat air patrol was still on the ball.
"Weapons free," Windsor called out to his squadron as he fired the first of the two AMRAAM missiles that had been allocated to him.
He visually tracked the missile as it moved forward, streaking towards the American air group. He blinked hard the moment that he lost sight of the missile, realizing that he had been slightly mesmerized by the sight. The American AMRAAM was still headed towards him at several times the spe
ed of sound.
The Prince took his aircraft into a sharp dive, increasing his speed as he did so. He increased his angle of descent and dropped chaff to attempt to confuse the incoming missile. Failing to shake it off and quickly running out of time, he attempted to pull the aircraft upwards and to execute a sharp turn while dropping even more chaff behind him. It was enough to distract the missile slightly, sending it past the tail of his plane as he surged ahead. The Lightning shook as the decoyed missile exploded nearby. Then it shook some more. Lieutenant-Commander Windsor checked his heads-up display: the near-miss by the AMRAAM had been enough to deal some very serious damage to his fighter. The shaking became violent and then uncontrollable. The Prince checked his readouts: he was a heck of a long way from home. Taking no more than a few seconds to consider his options, he ultimately chosen to accept the hazards of an ejection. He pushed the button in front of him and, moments later, began to drop towards the waters below.
USS Ronald Reagan (CVN-76), 980 Miles East of Puerto Rico
Admiral Layton watched calmly as the results of his use of air wing unfolded. Diverting the strike force to engage the returning DU aircraft was paying notable dividends: the enemy force was being torn apart by the long-range missile fire of the strike package. The forces, he reckoned, could probably complete the destruction of the enemy air group.
Layton checked his watch. If they were to press their attack, then the window to strike at the Russian task group would close. He paused and took a deep breath before turning to face the CAG.
"Order the fighters to break off and to take the strike on it."
HMS Queen Elizabeth (R08) , 1310 Miles East of Puerto Rico
The American strike had caught the Combined Fleet's air strike at the worst possible time. Their planes were largely-denuded of weapons and low on fuel as they attempted to return to base. Admiral Childers watched the display and watched as the size of his force was steadily depleted.
"Admiral, reported the CAG, "the American strike group is headed in towards the Russians. We have the CAP ready to go."
