by Dave Edlund
Colonel Horn had not looked at either of his officers during the short debate, preferring to study the monitors. “Agreed. The Hinds represent a low but unacceptable threat.” He shifted his attention to the two captains. “Still, I don’t want to pull off the Raptors. They are each down to three Slammers plus Sidewinders, and we can’t rule out the possibility that more fighters will be scrambled. We’ve bloodied their nose, but this fight isn’t over.”
“We can use the Predators,” offered the first captain. “We’re controlling the UAVs from Thor. They’re too slow to keep up with the Hinds, but if we act quickly, we can reposition this one,” he pointed at a blue triangle on the screen, “into the projected path of the Hinds. We should be able to shoot ’em down before they figure out what’s going on.”
“You really think one Predator can get all three Hinds?” challenged Horn.
“We’ll have the advantage of surprise. The Hinds won’t be expecting a frontal attack with laser-guided munitions. The Raptors have only fired radar-guided missiles.”
“I like your thinking, but it’s a stretch of the rules of engagement. Get General Hendrickson on the line. I’ll need authorization for this.”
“Yes, sir!”
Colonel Horn continued to stare at the screens, focusing on the action around La Carlota Air Base. The IR image being relayed from the Global Hawk showed two fuel trucks racing toward a squadron of parked helicopters. An inset screen in the lower right corner showed the radar imagery of the three Hind gunships advancing toward the Miraflores Presidential Palace. Just then the captain returned. “General Hendrickson is on the secure line,” he said, motioning toward a handset on the bulkhead below the monitors.
“Colonel Horn, sir. We have a low-level threat. Three Hinds, direct course for the presidential palace. I am recommending that we take them out.”
“Helicopter gunships aren’t much of a threat against the F-22s, and they’d have to get pretty close to the B-2 to hope for even a lucky shot.”
“We’ve considered that, General. There are also the Hawks, and we think they might get a visual and engage.”
General Hendrickson thought for a moment, weighing the options. “Okay, but I don’t want the Raptors pulled off station unless absolutely necessary.”
“Understood. We will engage with Predators.”
“Okay, Colonel. You are authorized to take down the Hinds.”
“Thank you, sir.” He hung up the handset and then turned to the captain who had suggested the plan. “Get that Predator into position; I want those gunships out of the air!”
Controlled by two airmen through a satellite data link, the pilot flew the Predator toward the flight of Hinds as if he was flying a model airplane. Except that unlike flying a model airplane, he couldn’t actually see the aircraft he was piloting. All flight data and positioning was relayed via sensors onboard the Predator as well as radar data from Thor. As the separation decreased to four miles, the second operator controlling the weapons system acquired the three helicopters and targeted the closest. The laser-guided Hellfire missile was originally designed to penetrate tanks but would perform equally well on armored gunships.
Onboard the lead Hind, the pilot had just scanned over his instrument panel. Engine function was normal, fuel load was more than adequate, heading was true. He looked forward through the clear canopy into the night sky. Against the black horizon he saw a bright flash. If it had streaked across his field of view, the pilot would have thought it a meteor or space junk falling through the atmosphere. But this bright spot seemed to waver around a fixed point directly in front of him, and it seemed to be getting larger.
It took two seconds for the pilot to comprehend what he had just seen—a delay that would prove fatal.
“Viper One to Viper flight. Incoming missile launch! Evasive action!”
The Hinds separated and ejected flares to decoy incoming heat-seeker missiles. Viper One jerked the cyclic stick to the left, causing his aircraft to bank sharply and lose altitude.
Homing in on the reflected laser beam, the incoming Hellfire was rushing toward the Hind at nearly Mach 2. The laser designator aboard the Predator was locked onto Viper One, so it continued to track the helicopter, even through its evasive maneuvers. Moments later, the Hellfire slammed into the Hind and exploded. The night sky was instantly illuminated by a brilliant white flash. The force of the explosion rippled through the airframe, fracturing the engine mounts and severing fuel lines and hydraulics. As the twin engines, still turning at high RPM, broke free with a grinding of metal, the Hind plunged and then exploded in a fireball.
“Viper Two to Viper One, over?” The radio was silent.
“Command to Viper flight. Radar tracks a slow target bearing two-seven degrees, closing on your position, approximately two miles. Likely a drone, engage and destroy.”
“Viper Two to Command. Engaging target two-seven degrees.”
The pilot in Viper Two banked his Hind to the right and flipped two switches to activate the thermal-based targeting system and power up the missile pod. Viper Two and Viper Three were armed with Chinese-made TianYan-90 heat-seeking air-to-air missiles.
“Viper Two to Viper Three. I have lock on target, firing.” In the cockpit of the Hind, the pilot raised a red-colored guard with his thumb and then depressed the button launching the missile.
At the same instant on board Thor, the two airmen controlling the Predator had achieved lock on the next Hind, Viper Two, and launched a Hellfire missile.
Viper Two and Viper Three saw the bright flash as the Hellfire’s solid propellant rocket motor ignited.
“Missile launch! Evasive action!”
The pilot of Viper Two shoved the cyclic to the right and slightly forward, causing his aircraft to move sharply in the same direction and drop altitude. Now it was a race between the Hellfire and the TianYan-90, each traveling in opposite directions toward their respective targets.
The airman piloting the Predator saw it first. “Incoming missile. Fired from lead Hind.”
“Uh, roger that,” replied the airman responsible for targeting and launching weapons from the UAV. “Looks like we fired at the same time.”
“So much for surprise.”
“Doesn’t look good for the Predator,” said the airman, pointing to the inset radar image. It showed the blip representing the incoming hostile missile closing the distance to the Predator faster than the Hellfire was closing on the Hind.
Seconds later the data link from the Predator went dead as the small UAV was blown into a million pieces.
Viper Two was flying at maximum speed on a course 90 degrees from its original heading. In the periphery of his vision, the pilot registered a bright flash. His larger and faster Chinese-made missile had won the race.
“Command to Viper Two, Viper Three. Target destroyed, resume course for presidential palace. Maintain military power.”
Colonel Horn was not pleased. “I want those Hinds down, Captain,” he barked.
“We don’t have any other Predators in position to intercept. Recommend vectoring Knight One to intercept with Stingers.”
“Do it.”
“Thor to Knight One. Two Hinds approaching your position bearing two-four-four degrees, altitude 12,000. Range ten miles and closing. Engage with Stingers. Repeat, do not use Slammers. Over.”
“Roger,” replied Knight One. “Engage with Stingers.”
Knight One banked his aircraft onto heading two-four-four and dropped to 12,000 feet. He was approaching the Hinds head-on.
When Knight One was three miles from the Hinds, the pilot had a solid infrared lock on the massive turbine engine of the nearest helicopter, blazing hot against a cool night sky. He opened his weapons bay to fire the Sidewinder, and when he did his aircraft became visible to radar. He was just about to launch the missile when the helicopter jinked to the right and dropped altitude, discharging flares as it did. The second gunship did the same, fleeing in the opposite direction.
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br /> Clearly the Hind pilots were both skilled. They had taken evasive action and the missile lock on the nearest Hind, Viper Two, was broken. The Raptor overshot the helicopters as Viper Two continued its turn, completing 180 degrees. He was now pointed in the direction he thought the attacking aircraft had fled, but his thermal targeting system did not reveal any obvious targets.
Still, there was a slight thermal image against the cold sky. Good enough, he thought. He fired another TianYan-90 missile. It was a quick shot, without lock, and the missile missed. But it was close.
“Thor to Knight One. Bogey has fired on you. Probable heat seeker. Uh, Colonel suggests you splash these guys and return to station.”
On board Thor, Colonel Horn was growing more frustrated by the minute with the trouble these Hind helicopters were causing; especially in light of the relative ease with which his strike aircraft had previously dispatched a dozen modern fighters.
Knight One turned his aircraft sharply, using its vectored thrust. Relying upon radar guidance from Thor, he was on a course to intercept the Hinds from behind.
With his weapons door closed, Knight One approached the two helicopters under the cloak of invisibility. Bleeding off speed, Knight One came to within half a mile before opening his weapons door. At this close range, missile lock was almost immediate. Knight One fired the Sidewinder. With very little warning and a short flight time for the Sidewinder, the helicopter simply could not outmaneuver the heat seeker. The explosive charge detonated within the turbine engine, shattering the engine cowling, shredding the turbine blades and adjacent fuel and hydraulic lines. The Hind tumbled to the earth, out of control.
Having successfully defeated two missile attacks, Viper Two’s luck ran out.
The lone remaining Hind pilot was courageous, but not stupid. He knew he stood next to zero chance of defeating the unseen intruder; he departed for his home base. Knight One did not pursue.
The Spirit of Florida and Spirit of Hawaii had, by now, completed their missions. Their job done, the two B-2s closed the external doors, regaining invisibility, and departed north, leaving the theater of engagement.
“Thor to strike force. This is Colonel Horn. I want to congratulate you on a job well done. All surveillance shows Venezuelan Air Force is standing down.”
The F-22 Raptors escorted the larger B-2s until they were well out of Venezuelan airspace and the sky was clear of threats, confirmed by the E-3 Sentry still on station. Nevertheless, the Raptors remained with the two strategic bombers until they were 700 miles north of Caracas. The B-2s continued north to rendezvous with the KC-130 tanker over the open ocean north of the West Indies and south of the Bahamas. The pair of escorts turned southwest and returned to Hato International Airport on Curacao.
Chapter 36
October 16
Washington, D.C.
The massive rear-projection screen was divided into quadrants—each quadrant displaying a different virtual false-color image of the unfolding operation over Venezuela. The upper right quadrant displayed the entire theater, using blue icons for friendly assets and red icons for enemy assets overlaid on a detailed map of the region. The icons moved in real time, due to an encrypted data downlink from the orbiting E-3 Sentry. The other three quadrants of the projection screen displayed enlarged images of the confrontation: the presidential palace and the two nearby air bases.
The E-3 was receiving surveillance data, not only from its own suite of radar sensors, but also from each Global Hawk in the theater of operation. This stream of data was collated and assembled in milliseconds into the most comprehensive and detailed real-time overview that Secretary of Defense Hale had ever seen of an active theater of battle.
Secretary of State Paul Bryan was mesmerized by the real-time images of the conflict. Everything was going well, and he silently breathed relief when the last of the American aircraft safely departed Venezuelan air space. He had been present, at Hale’s invitation, in the War Room in the basement of the White House since the beginning of Operation Checkmate. Yet he felt like a fish out of water. Around him everyone else was busy. There were the Joint Chiefs and their aides and a gaggle of officers from each branch of the armed forces conversing on phones, working at computer terminals, entering and leaving the room. It looked to be rather chaotic to Bryan’s novice eye.
Militarily, the mission was judged an unqualified success. No U.S. airmen were lost, and no manned aircraft was struck by enemy fire. The only loss of U.S. assets was one Predator UAV—most likely blown to pieces, and no one thought there was much chance the Venezuelans, or anyone else for that matter, would be able to gain any classified knowledge from the wreckage. In comparison, the Venezuelan air defenses suffered significantly greater losses. Numerous radar targeting systems were destroyed, six Su-27 fighter aircraft and six Mirage jets were destroyed, and two Mi-35 Hind helicopter gunships were shot down.
Both the principal air base in Barcelona and the presidential palace had been targeted, Bryan cogitated. There could be no mistaking the message. If we had chosen to, we would have placed precision-guided bombs on those targets.
Now it was a matter of waiting for the anticipated call of indignation and protest from the Venezuelan Foreign Minister Roberto Maldonado. Bryan did not have to wait too long.
The incoming phone call was forwarded to the War Room. Bryan’s secretary, Marge, paged first to alert him that the call was from Caracas.
“Good evening Mr. Maldonado. What can I do for you?”
“This is an outrage! You know very well the reason for my call!”
“Do I?” Bryan answered innocently, a hint of a slim smile taking shape. Had this not been so serious, he might have chuckled.
“The United States has carried out an unprovoked act of aggression against the sovereign Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela!”
“What acts of aggression are you referring to, and what evidence do you offer that my country carried out these acts?” Bryan was playing his counterpart in an effort to learn something of Venezuelan intelligence capabilities.
“You know very well what I am talking about, but you wish to play games, I see. So I will tell you what you already know. Stealth aircraft executed unprovoked attacks on several fighters from the Venezuelan Air Force. These fighters had been scrambled to intercept and identify other stealth aircraft over Caracas and Barcelona that had launched anti-radar missiles at defense installations. In the Western Hemisphere, only the United States has the capability to deploy stealth aircraft.
“I am quite confident that passenger air control radar records for the Southern Caribbean region will confirm that military aircraft were flown south from the United States. Your assertion that my country has supported terrorist acts against the United States was merely a convenient excuse to attack Venezuela!”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Maldonado. The U.S. Air Force flies training missions all over the world, including the Southern Caribbean.”
“If you continue to insult my intelligence with your childish games, I will end this conversation and take up the matter with the United Nations Security Council and the General Assembly immediately. My ambassador to the U.N. is already on the phone to the secretary general. The provocative actions of the United States are nothing short of an act of war!”
“Your ambassador will find that the secretary general is quite aware of tonight’s events,” replied Secretary Bryan in a calm voice.
“What are you talking about, Mr. Bryan? I do not have patience tonight for riddles.”
“I am not speaking in riddles, Mr. Maldonado. Yes, my country sent a message to President Garza tonight. It is our sincere hope that he adequately received and understands that message.”
“So, you admit to your acts of aggression against Venezuela.” There was a hint of surprise in Maldonado’s voice, as if he were expecting the American secretary of state to deny any involvement.
“President Taylor directed strategic bombers to circle above the presidential palace i
n Caracas and the General Jose Antonio Anzoa Tegui Air Base in Barcelona. The aircraft were not authorized to strike their targets… not this time, anyway. But they were ordered to destroy all targeting radar and military aircraft vectored toward their positions.”
“This is illegal! You have no right to attack my country! We will take this matter before the U.N. and insist on sanctions. America will finally be seen by the international community as the oppressor Latin America has long suffered it to be.”
“Of course, that is your prerogative. But as I said, Mr. Maldonado, you will find that the secretary general and the Security Council are very familiar with this current situation. I gave them detailed briefings well in advance of our actions tonight. In those briefings I documented in great detail the campaign of terror that has been directed through your government—a brutal and merciless campaign aimed at denying all countries the knowledge to synthesize oil. Yes, Mr. Maldonado, the international community knows of your country’s ambition to maintain the power of the oil cartel, and they do not approve.”
“My country does not seek approval from the U.S. We are not your puppet! We have powerful allies! If it is war you want, it is war you shall have! For too long you Yankees have held Latin America under your thumb. No more!”
“If the powerful ally you are referring to is the Russian Federation, you will be disappointed. We tracked the Russian submarine Saint Petersburg into U.S. territorial waters off the coast of Alaska on her mission to insert your terrorist squad and a second team… a spetsnaz sniper team. The sniper team did not make it back to their sub for the exfiltration. Fortunately, a U.S. Naval vessel was in the vicinity and rendered assistance, rescuing the Russian spec ops soldiers from the near-freezing water, for which they were very thankful. Do you want to know what they told us?”
Secretary Bryan paused for two long seconds, waiting for a reply. But none was forthcoming, and that spoke volumes to the secretary of state.
