Sky Masters

by Dale Brown

  "Attacking? With guns? All we have are guns, sir "I know, I know, "

  Tamalko said. He readjusted his heads-up display for air-to-ground

  strafing, resetting the depression angle on the HUD to 37 mils. "Where

  are the damned ships?" There was a slight pause, and Tamalko thought

  that Pilas was either not going to answer or was suffering a nervous

  breakdown. Then: "Radar contact, one o'clock, ten miles. Come right

  ten degrees. Target heading two-six-zero." Tamalko made the turn and

  began pushing up the throttles in military power, saving afterburner

  thrust for the final few miles of his pass. ... ABOARD THE CHINESE

  FLAGSHIP HONG LUNG "High-speed aircraft approaching Wenshan, sir, "

  Captain Lubu reported. "Range sixteen kilometers. No contact on sec ond

  aircraft. Wenshan maneuvering to put his aft 57-millimeter guns on the

  target."

  "He'd better stop turning and start shooting, " Admiral Yin said

  half-aloud. "If those planes are carrying Harpoon antiship missiles,

  he's run out of time already."

  "Emergency message from Wenshan!" a radio operator called out. "They've

  run aground!"

  "What?" Yin shouted. For the second time, the deep-draft patrol boat

  Wenshan had fallen victim to the shoal waters of the South China Sea-and

  the second time it had done so at a critical moment, while under attack

  from hostile Philippine forces. The image of the dragon drowning in the

  ocean rushed upon the Chinese Admiral once again-the battle, it seemed,

  always came to him.... "Wenshan is taking water, " the radio operator

  reported. "They are requesting fire support and assistance. Casualties

  reported."

  "Range to that fighter?"

  "Range to Wenshan, eight kilometers, " the Combat technician reported.

  "Fighter still headed inbound. Passing eleven hundred kilometers per

  hour."

  "Sir, radar reports the second frigate has appeared over the horizon to

  the east, " Captain Lubu reported. "Range thirty-two kilometers,

  closing slowly." The Philippine ships were pressing the attack, Yin

  thought. So close to utter destruction, and now the mouse is turning to

  bite the nose of the tiger. "Order Fuzhou to intercept-"

  "Sir, radar reports another contact off to the south, " Lubu

  interrupted. "Range thirty-seven kilometers, approaching at medium

  speed. They appear to be helicopters, sir. Three helicopters

  approaching."

  "Missile-launch detection!" Combat reported. "Frigate to the east

  launching missiles, sir!" The battle was on in earnest. The reports were

  flooding past Admiral Yin almost faster than he could assimilate them.

  Faces glanced at him, some doubtful, others accusingly, most of them

  fearful. Voices were bombarding him, rising in intensity and volume-the

  racket was getting loud, almost deafening. . "Fighter closing to within

  five kilometers, sir, " another report cut in. "Wenshan listing to

  starboard. Captain Han reports his stern is resting on the bottom and

  is unable to move... "Vessel to the south identified as PS-class

  corvette, " Lubu reported. "There was a fifth ship out here, Admiral.

  The helicopter landing platform.. . it must have separated from the

  rest of the Philippine task force and maneuvered to our right flank..."

  "Missile-launch detection! Corvette to the south launching missiles .

  "Radar contact, third vessel, identified as LF-class fire-support craft.

  "Shoal water dead ahead, three meters under the keel. Suggest hard

  starboard twenty degrees "Execute turn "Missile-launch detection!

  Helicopters launching missiles, sir!" "Chukou reports missile strike on

  the waterline, sir!" another report came. "No damage report. . .

  lost contact with Chukou..."

  "Lost data link with Xingyi, sir. No reports yet. "LF-class

  fire-support vessel on suspected torpedo run, sir, " Lubu shouted.

  "Range down to eighteen kilometers, speed thirty knots.. "Radar contact

  aircraft, range fifty-two kilometers, heading west at high speed, "

  another report came. "Fighter aircraft from Puerto Princesa. ETA, five

  minutes."

  "Sir, " Captain Lubu said, stopping and standing as close to Yin as he

  dared, "we are running out of maneuvering room, one patrol boat is

  grounded, and the other ships are scattering and disoriented-they are

  unable to defend themselves or defend the flagship. Recommend we reduce

  speed and provide fire-support coverage for our escorts. Once we are

  reorganized, we can steam out of the passage. . Yin appeared not to

  have heard him. Not four inches from Captain Lubu's face, Yin was

  breathing heavily through his nose. Perspiration was running down the

  sides of his temples. His face was flushed, his brow furrowed, his

  mouth a tight line. It was as if he were not there, but instead

  somewhere else far, far away, thinking... about how there was no way

  out. ... about his duty to protect his men, his ship. about saving

  face at all costs. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, but was

  really less than fifteen seconds, Yin unbuttoned the top button of his

  tunic, reached inside, and withdrew a large silver key. Lubu's mouth

  dropped open in surprise. His eyes grew wide as he realized what it

  was. "Sir... Admiral, you cannot f"

  "We cannot be razed like this, Captain, " Yin said calmly. "I will not

  suffer defeat at the hands of these people." He inserted the key into a

  lock on a flat panel on the instrument console in front of his seat,

  waited as the door popped open. Inside the compartment was a

  red-colored telephone handset with communications cords and several

  unmarked buttons. Yin pressed the yellow button. A buzzer sounded

  around the entire ship. With Lubu looking on in absolute horror, men

  throughout the ship scrambled to prepare for an order that had never

  before been executed. . Admiral Yin picked up the red-handled phone

  within the unlocked compartment before him on the instrument console.

  "This is Admiral Yin, " he said. "Command is Battle Cry. Battle Cry.

  Over."

  "Initial code verified, " a voice on the other end of the line asked.

  "Targets, sir?"

  "Target the southern corvette, turn, and target the eastern frigate, "

  he said in a low voice. "Execute in three minutes, system automatic.

  Authentication is Red Moon. Repeat, Red Moon. Over."

  "Understood, sir. Authentication verified. Full connectivity check . .

  . received. Execution in three minutes . . . mark. System automatic

  engaged. Countdown hold in two minutes. Combat out." Yin replaced the

  red phone in its cradle. A crewman dashed up to the two senior officers,

  carrying heavy gloves, a heavy black smock that resembled a thick

  poncho, and a heavy helmet with large gold protective eye goggles and a

  plastic face shield with respirator. Lubu accepted his but did not don

  it. "Admiral, I ask you to reconsider. We should receive authority from

  headquarters before attempting this Yin allowed the crewman to help him

  on with the leadimpregnated smock, placed the helmet on his head,

  connected the interphone cords and breathing apparatus, and rolled down

  his sleeves. Inside the helmet
, he could hear the reports coming in to

  Lubu as each desk and each station reported its Red Moon status.

  "Admiral, you must stop this.. ." Lubu persisted. "Two minutes to Red

  Moon execution, " the loudspeaker blared. "Two minutes to Red Moon

  execution. . . mark. All decks report ready."

  "My fleet is surrounded, we are under attack, we are in danger of losing

  the Spratly Islands and indeed most of the South China Sea to the

  Filipinos, " Yin said through the respirator. His flashblindness

  goggles and oxygen mask made him look sinister, even deranged, like a

  sea monster from a horror movie. "I have the power to stop them. My

  only other choice is to surrender to them, and that I will never do."

  "But this will create a disaster of international proportions, " Lubu

  argued. "We are too close to the Philippine shoreline. The water is

  too shallow-we will do irreparable harm to the coral reefs and the sea

  bottom in these shallow waters. You must cancel the order."

  "Put on your protective gear and prepare for Red Moon execution,

  Captain, " Yin said through the mask and respirator. "That is an

  order."

  "You cannot do this. We will be in a state of war, with the Filipinos,

  the Americans, the entire world."

  "Range to the south target?" Yin radioed to Combat. "Thirty kilometers

  and closing, " came the reply. "Helicopters at seven kilometers, ETA

  three minutes... sensor warning missiles on intercept course, ETA forty

  seconds, AA batteries and close-in systems manned and ready. .

  "Admiral, please... Captain Lubu shouted, his hands on the armrest of

  Yin's chair. "At least . . . at least broadcast a warning message,

  sir." Yin shook his head, a slow, ghastly gesture that made it look

  like the Death's Head itself refusing the pleas of the ones condemned to

  die. "You old fool, you can't do this!" Lubu shouted. He turned to the

  officer of the deck, who was fully outfitted in his

  nuclearchemical-biological-warfare gear. "Cancel Red Moon execution on

  my order, Commander. Broadcast on emergency frequency that this fleet

  is disengaging and departing Filipino waters immediately."

  "Sir, I must have the cancellation code, " the officer of the deck

  shouted through his mask. The officer of the deck was trained to

  respond to orders from the ship's captain, not the Admiral on board;

  therefore there was no question that he would obey lawful orders from

  Lubu. But procedures still had to be followed, especially in combat

  conditions and with the flotilla commander on deck in active command.

  Lubu looked at the dark visage of Yin behind his mask. The Fleet

  Admiral made no movement, spoke nothing. Lubu said angrily, "On my

  authority, Commander. The codes are in a safe in my cabin. You know I

  have them. Until I retrieve the codes, I order you to cancel the

  execution order immediately." The officer of the deck turned to look at

  both Yin and Lubu. Most of the rest of the bridge crew was watching the

  exchange as well. Then the officer of the deck said, "I'm sorry, sir,

  but the Admiral is still on the bridge and he has command. I cannot

  supersede his orders."

  "Sixty seconds to Red Moon execution. All decks report ready. . .

  fifty seconds. "Cancel the order, Admiral, " Lubu warned him. "Don your

  protective gear and stand by, Captain, " Yin said evenly. Lubu's eyes

  telegraphed his next move-he lunged forward for the silver key in the

  lock of the Fei Lung-9 commandcontrol panel. Removing the key would

  disable the direct line to Combat, which would prevent the final

  execution order from being given from the bridge. The launch officer

  would hold the final launch countdown at twenty seconds if the final

  order was not given either by the direct phone or in person. Just as

  Lubu touched the key, a shot rang out. Lubu was thrown away from Yin's

  chair and onto the floor, a dark red stain spreading across his belly.

  "You are a coward and a dishonorable man, Lubu Vin Li, " Yin said

  half-aloud, placing the smoking 7.62-millimeter Type 54 automatic pistol

  on the instrument console in front of him. "You cannot change my

  destiny. You have disgraced yourself trying." Yin then picked up the

  red phone, lifted his mask and helmet, and spoke: "Combat, this is

  Admiral Yin."

  "Combat. Entering Red Moon countdown hold." "Execution order is Dragon

  Sword. Dragon Sword." And he dropped the phone once more and lowered

  his respirator into position. As he closed the elastic seals on his

  gloves and neck of the protective smock, he spoke into the helmet's

  interphone system: "Seal the bridge. Order all antennae and receivers

  into standby and-" But just then Yin heard the collision-warning horn

  sound on the bridge loudspeaker and the loud, angry buzz of the Phalanx

  Close-In Weapon System. The radar-guided Gatling gun automatically

  tracked inbound targets and opened fire with a murderous hail of

  30-millimeter bullets when it computed the object within range-Yin knew

  it was a last-resort weapon, and that its chances of stopping an

  incoming missile were slim. Yin heard another warning horn blare-it was

  the T minus ten-second Fei Lung-9 launch-warning horn-just as a huge

  explosion erupted outside the port observation windows. The incoming

  Harpoon missile had been hit by the Phalanx cannon and detonated as it

  began its terminal pop-up maneuver, creating a huge overpressure in

  Yin's ears seconds before the big, thick observation windows bowed

  inwards, then outwards, and exploded like a balloon. The overpressure

  seemed to suck the air out of Yin's lungs, and the very air he was

  breathing seemed as if it were on fire. . ABOARD BEAR ZERO-ONE Tamalko

  saw the patrol boat at about three miles' distance, and opened fire just

  inside one-half mile. The Chinese warship opened fire immediately with

  what appeared to be a solid wall of tracers, and for a moment he thought

  he would have to break off his run and try a different attack axis; but

  just then, a half-second later, the firing abruptly stopped. Tamalko

  walked his 20-millimeter shells up to the ship's stern, using short

  bursts from the four-thousand-rounds-per-minute M61A1 cannon, then,

  banking hard left and controlling his fighter's swaying action with

  rudder pressure, managed to stitch a line of bullets right down the

  centerline. He was rewarded with a few secondary explosions, and it

  even appeared that the ship was listing to one side, although he doubted

  seriously that single gun pass had anything to do with it. "Radar

  contact on another vessel, now one o'clock, three miles, " Pilas called

  out. "Locked on, steering is good."

  "Roger, " Tamalko replied. Just as he rolled out on his new heading

  toward the second Chinese vessel, he saw a huge cloud of fire burst

  directly abeam the radar cursor in his HUD. The ship was clearly

  illuminated for a second or two, and Tamalko could not believe the size

  of the ship-it was as big as an aircraft carrier, he thought, and as

  tall as a skyscraper. It was easily the biggest ship he had ever seen

  so close to Palawan. Only a search radar still emanating from this

&nbs
p; one-it seemed unaware of his presence. Well, perhaps not. Just as

  Tamalko considered the lack of threat signals from the big vessel, he

  saw a streak of fire arch skyward from the rear of the Chinese ship. It

  trailed a line of fiery exhaust that could be seen for dozens of miles,

  and it flew fairly slowly, picking up speed only several seconds after

  launch. The big missile continued south and made no attempt to turn east

  toward him. That was odd, Tamalko thought. "Coming within two miles, "

  Pilas said. "Two miles... now. Just then, the heads-up display

  circular firing cue began its clockwise sweep, like a racing timer-when

  the sweep circle passed the three o'clock position on the HUD, he could

  open fire. Tamalko checked his switches visually instead of by feel,

  double-checked his gun status-still not jammed after 340 rounds fired

  off' which was above-average for the M61A1 cannon-and by the time he

  faced forward to line up on target, he was within a mile and a half.

  Pipper in the center of the radar diamond, a good ARM 260 indication-and

  Tamalko let loose, maintaining short trigger pulls, feeling the

  reassuring buzz of the gun when it fired, keeping the pipper lined up on

  the radar target diamond. There was no return fire from the big Chinese

  ship. The cannon jammed with thirty rounds remaining, but every one of

  the others had been placed neatly into the ship's midsection. Tamalko

  clicked the gun to "Safe" and banked up on his left wing, keeping a low,

  thin profile to the ship as he passed overhead. He caught glimpses of

  flickering lights on deck as he screamed over the ship at Mach one, but

  whether they were secondary explosions or reflections of light, he

  couldn't tell. Tamalko banked left, heading south, keeping his engines

  out of afterburner to avoid attracting any heat-seeking missiles or

  optically guided guns. The threat radars from the big destroyer were

  gone. Maybe he did hit something vital! And then it happened. For a

  millisecond Tamalko's eyes registered the brightest flash of light he'd