Tiger's Claw: A Novel pm-18

by Dale Brown

  “It’s not stealthy, the airframes are of questionable integrity, the basic systems such as flight controls and landing gear are unsupported and prone to unexpected failure, and in order to fly and maintain them Colonel Hoffman here has to recruit aviators and mechanics that are well into their . . . postretirement years, ma’am,” Murth said determinedly, showing his displeasure at Hoffman’s outbursts. “It’s chasing good money after bad. The Russians and the Chinese can fly rings around it. General McLanahan thinks that just because it’s less expensive than modern alternatives such as the F-35 or F/A-18, it’s better. It certainly is nothing of the . . . kind.”

  “I see,” Ann said. “So tell me, Patrick: we’ve got Super Hornets, and soon the F-35 Lightnings will be operational . . . hopefully. So why do we need these B-1 bombers?”

  “Ma’am, the F-35 and even the F/A-18 Hornet are perfect examples of what’s wrong with military procurement: building equipment first and then finding a mission for them,” Patrick said. “The F/A-18 is a good carrier-based fighter and bomber, but its short combat radius limits its usability in the Pacific theater without lots of external fuel tanks that rob its performance, a carrier, or basing very close to enemy shores. The Super Hornet was meant to replace the A-6 Intruder, A-7 Corsair, and A-12 stealth bombers and F-14 Tomcat fighter, but it can’t do what the others can.

  “The F-35 was supposed to replace the F-16 Fighting Falcon,” Patrick went on, “and it has some very advanced capabilities, but its payload is virtually the same as the F-16 and its combat radius is only marginally greater. They are planes that do many roles well, but some roles not as well as the planes they are supposed to replace.

  “Now we have a new battle concept: the AirSea Battle. Everyone says AirSea Battle is not specifically designed around a future conflict with China, but unless we go to war with Japan, India, or Australia, there are few other adversaries that require both land- and carrier-based attackers to prosecute. The F-35 and F/A-18 Super Hornet have fantastic technologies, but they can’t do the long-range mission in the Pacific without operating from carriers or forward bases, so trying to shoehorn the Lightning or Hornet to do AirSea Battle just won’t work.”

  “So just put cruise missiles on them,” Ann said.

  “The Lightning can carry the most advanced nonnuclear air-launched cruise missile, the AGM-158A-Extended Range,” Patrick responded, “but it has to carry the missiles externally, which greatly decreases its range and destroys its stealthiness—a workable option, if we had enough F-35s, but again we were adapting a weapon system for a mission rather than designing a weapons system for a mission. The BGM-109 Tomahawk ship- or sub-launched tactical land attack missile has a greater range, but the ships would need to move in closer to shore to strike targets deep inside enemy territory. Again, workable, but not ideal. The cruise missiles are also subsonic, and of course most only have one warhead. The nonnuclear intercontinental ballistic missile is another option, but launching a large ballistic missile toward Asia would certainly make a lot of unfriendly nations anxious at best and invite a nuclear counterstrike at worst. The answer to me was: build a bomber that can carry multiple cruise missiles and is stealthy enough to come close to or even overfly enemy territory.”

  “Spoken like a true bomber puke,” Ann interjected with a smile.

  “Guilty as charged, ma’am,” Patrick said. “The B-2 Spirit stealth bomber can certainly do it, but we only have a handful of them surviving after the American Holocaust. The Next Generation Bomber and the Thor’s Hammer space-based attack weapon programs were supposed to do the mission, but they were canceled, and even if they were restarted tomorrow, it would take a minimum of five years to build a force large enough to do the job.”

  “So you thought of refurbishing mothballed bombers to do it?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Patrick said. “I took my son, Bradley, for a tour of the Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Group at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base a few years ago, and he was blown away by all the shrink-wrapped B-1 bombers stored out there. Sky Masters Inc. has been providing the technology for modernizing B-52 and B-1 bombers for years, and when I took over at Sky Masters, I decided I wanted to get back into the business of rebuilding the bomber force. The Air Force leadership had canceled their B-1 refurbishing program at Palmdale because of budget cuts, and they were all too happy to sell me the entire program. Then we bought a quantity of F136 engines and realized they would fit just fine in B-1 bombers and how much it enhanced the plane’s performance and fuel efficiency. Then, after sticking modern engines in the B-1s, we found how easy it was to retrofit modern digital avionics into B-1 bombers as well. The Air Force was willing to give us a bunch of off-the-shelf avionics for little to no cost. Before we knew it, the XB-1 was born. The program practically developed itself.”

  “Interesting story, Patrick,” Vice President Ann Page said.

  “Except it’s not the entire story, Miss Vice President,” Murth interjected. “The B-1 isn’t stealthy. It can’t survive over a modern battlefield, and China certainly has radars and air defense systems that can detect, track, and attack it. The B-1 is . . . obsolete.”

  “Patrick?”

  “It’s true, the B-1’s radar cross section is ten times greater than the F-35,” Patrick said. “But an F-35 carrying two external cruise missiles has a larger radar cross section, and its range is about a tenth of the B-1’s. The Super Hornet is not yet cleared to carry air-launched cruise missiles, and it would suffer a drastic decrease in performance and range with external stores as well.

  “The B-1 with internal stores has just a slightly larger radar cross section than the Super Hornet; it has more powerful radar jammers; it has a much higher ingress speed; it is capable of terrain-following flight, and it can carry as many as sixteen cruise missiles versus the F-35’s maximum of two,” Patrick went on. “Plus, the F-35 isn’t operational yet, and isn’t forecast to be so for another four years at best. The XB-1 Excalibur is only an interim solution to AirSea Battle until the Next Generation Bomber or Mjollnir is built, but it can do the job for less money, better than any other alternative and be operational sooner.”

  “The design is forty years old, and the newest plane is almost thirty years old and hasn’t been flown for almost fifteen years,” Murth said. “General McLanahan is quoting performance and stealthiness numbers based on 1980s technology. If a Chinese JN-15 or J-20 or a Russian Sukhoi-34 or T-50 gets within range of one, all those sixteen cruise missiles will be lost in the blink of an eye. I strongly urge you to not consider this program, Miss Vice President.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Undersecretary,” Ann said, then looked at National Security Adviser Glenbrook. “Bill?”

  “I like the plan, Miss Vice President,” Glenbrook said after a moment of silent consideration. Murth’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Frankly, ma’am, we don’t have much choice. Look at what’s happened out in the South China Sea: we have a handful of bombers, including a B-2 stealth bomber, survivors of the American Holocaust, stationed on Guam with the Continuous Bomber Presence task force, but we were hesitant to use them over the South China Sea for fear of escalating tensions or, worse, getting one mysteriously shot down like we lost the P-8 Poseidon. Carriers launching Hornets would need to move in close to hostile waters to operate, and the F-35 Lightning won’t even be operational for three to four years at best. The skipper of that Coast Guard cutter was pleading for air support, and we had nothing to offer him. General McLanahan’s plan is the only viable option.” He thought again, then nodded. “I will recommend to the president that the Pentagon should go to Congress to seek funds to implement General McLanahan’s project.”

  “Excuse me, sir, but in my opinion there is no way Congress is going to agree to spend almost half a billion dollars on a few forty-year-old flying . . . dinosaurs,” Murth said, the dumbfounded expression plastered on his face. “The White House will look . . . foolish.”

  “In light of what’s happened over the Sout
h China Sea,” Ann said, “I’ll recommend that the president request emergency funding to immediately implement the program.”

  Murth turned his stunned expression to the vice president. “Emergency funding, Miss Vice President?” he asked. “That is not at all . . . reasonable.”

  “The president and I disagree, Mr. Undersecretary,” Ann said. “We want the project to proceed with all possible speed. The White House and Pentagon have some emergency discretionary funds allotted to us precisely for this type of contingency. Some will be used to replace the rotary-wing aircraft on the Coast Guard cutter; some to replace the P-8 Poseidon; something for the families of those lost; and the rest to procure the refurbished B-1 bombers for use in the Pacific. We can do this until we get Congress to fund more B-1s or a new long-range strike aircraft. Thank you very much for your hard work, Undersecretary Murth.” That was an unmistakable indication that he was free to leave, and the young bureaucrat nodded and departed without a word.

  “Okay, guys, your work is cut out for you,” Ann said seriously to Patrick, Hoffman, and Oglethorpe. “The president and I just overruled the number four civilian in the Pentagon, the guy whose job it is to kill programs that don’t make sense. The president would like you to present your proposal to the national security staff this afternoon. Bring your A-game, boys. And don’t forget dinner in the residence later”—she smiled, then added as she headed for the door—“assuming you’re still on speaking terms and still want to hang out with him after the grilling I think you’re going to get from him and the national security staff.”

  NAVAL AIR STATION FALLON, NEVADA

  SEVERAL MONTHS LATER, FEBRUARY 2015

  “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Naval Air Station Fallon,” the U.S. Navy officer said. The auditorium was filled with almost a hundred men and women. On the right were seated persons in a variety of colors of flight suits, from black to dark green to red. Then there was a noticeable gap of empty seats, and then on the left another group wearing flight suits also of various colors, but mostly international orange. The large screen behind the speaker onstage changed to a triangular emblem with two jets, mountains, and a steer’s horned head. “My name is Captain Richard Avery, and I’d like to welcome you to Naval Air Station Fallon and the Naval Strike and Air Warfare Center, the Navy’s premier air warfare training unit.

  “As most of our guests may know, the NSAWC combines three formerly separate schools: the Naval Strike Warfare Center, or ‘Strike U,’ teaching advanced bombing and gunnery tactics; TOPGUN, which teaches advanced air-to-air combat tactics; and TOPDOME, the Carrier Airborne Early Warning Weapons School, which teaches advanced radar air intercept and control techniques,” Avery said. “Every unit getting ready for deployment comes to Fallon for predeployment workup, and we are the only facility in the world where we can take an entire carrier air wing at one time for comprehensive, realistic training.

  “We happen to be in between workup sessions right now—the air wing of the Nimitz will be coming in a few weeks for their workup, in preparation for their final cruise before decommissioning—so this gives us an opportunity for some realistic training for a rather unusual group of folks,” Avery went on. “Frankly, folks, I thought this was a joke at first—I thought, ‘we’re going to train who?’—but the chief of naval operations assured me this was no joke. So here you are. We’re going to run you though a vastly abbreviated fleet air wing workup course to see what you folks can do.”

  He nodded to the men and women on his right. “Welcome to VF-13, the ‘Fighting Saints,’ our adversary squadron based here at Fallon,” Avery went on. “They fly the F-5N aggressor fighter.” The image on the large screen behind him changed to a photo of a sleek twin-engine jet fighter in unusual gray, blue, and brown stripes. “Our aircraft are painted like many of our potential adversaries’ aircraft; our crews train and fly exactly how our adversaries would; and as you can see, our aircrews are even encouraged to wear flight suits and use equipment that our adversaries will use, so they would have the same experiences and limitations as our adversaries.”

  Avery turned to the folks on his left, and he had to smile and chuckle inwardly at the extreme differences between the two groups. Most on the left were significantly older than the men and women of VF-13; their hair was longer and thinner; and for some their midsections were noticeable thicker. “Saints, welcome the men and women of Sky Masters Incorporated, out of Battle Mountain, right up the road from us.” The image on the screen changed again to one of a B-1 bomber. “They fly what they call the XB-1 Excalibur bomber, which is a refurbished and modernized B-1B Lancer strategic supersonic bomber. The Air Force is going to deploy a number of these bombers in the Pacific theater in the next few months to support carrier strike group operations and implement the AirSea Battle concept. Your mission over the next week is to provide them classroom and flying instruction on fleet tactics and procedures.”

  The right side of the auditorium erupted into a low but very noticeable level of bedlam. “Say again, sir?” one of the members of VF-13 seated in the front row asked. “We’re going to train civilians?”

  “Roger that, Noose,” Avery said. To the civilian seated directly opposite of the one making the outburst he said, “General McLanahan, I’d like to introduce you to Commander Chris Kahn, call sign ‘Noose,’ commander of VF-13. Noose, I’m sure you’ve heard of Air Force Lieutenant General Patrick McLanahan, retired.” Kahn’s facial expression changed from confusion to disbelief and back to total confusion, but he managed to pull himself back to the here and now long enough to get to his feet and shake hands with Patrick. “General McLanahan is the vice president of Sky Masters Inc., the company that refurbishes the B-1 bombers. He’ll be attending training with the initial cadre of aircrews.”

  “Yes, sir,” Kahn said, still dumbfounded. “Nice to meet you, sir, and I apologize for the outburst.” Patrick said nothing, just nodding with a skeptical smile on his face. Kahn turned back to Avery. “Sir, the Air Wing Fallon war games and the Advanced Readiness Program exercises each last a month. How can we train non-Navy crews in just one week?”

  “I’m going to leave that up to you and your squadron staff, Noose,” Avery said. “It’s obviously not a full predeployment workup, but an introduction to Navy terminology, basic procedures, and tactics. The CNO knows it’ll take time for the B-1 guys to learn Navy procedures, but he just wants to limit the confusion factor here. The B-1s will be coordinating long-range overwater operations with the carrier strike groups, but we don’t envision Hornets flying formation with B-1s.” He ignored Kahn’s totally confused expression. “The civilians will have access to the Silver State Club, Desert Moon Theater, Sagebrush Bowling Center, Flightline Grill and Bar, and the Fitness Center. I expect you to help in making them feel welcome, Noose. Thank you.”

  A preliminary schedule for the next day was set up, more introductions were made, and then the meeting broke up so staff members could escort the civilians to their dormitories. Kahn and Patrick shook hands before they departed. “Again, sir, sorry for the outburst back there.”

  “No problem, Commander,” Patrick said.

  Kahn nodded, then lowered his voice, looked Patrick square in the eye, and asked, “Masters One, I presume?”

  Patrick was confused, but only for a moment, and his eyes lit up as he realized what Kahn was saying: “Welder One-Seven flight of two Super Hornets, I presume?”

  Kahn nodded and gave Patrick a crocodile grin. “You’ve got yourself a bunch of nice hot jets, sir,” he said. “But you’re on my deck now. See you on the range, sir.”

  “Bet on it, Commander,” Patrick said, and departed.

  Kahn made sure to intercept Avery in private after everyone else had departed. “What the hell, Skipper?” he asked directly. “I’ve got to waste my between-workup time to spoon-feed a bunch of old geezers on the Navy way . . . in just one week?”

  “Listen, Noose, I’m not happy about this either,” Avery said in a low voice, comp
letely different in tone than when he was addressing the entire group—it was no longer the jovial, welcoming, accommodating host. “But I got this mission directly from the CNO. The Pentagon wants these guys trained and sent out to Guam soonest, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

  “This is just plain loco, sir,” Kahn said. “Did you get a look at some of those guys? They’re just as likely to pass out or fall asleep in the cockpit as they are to fly with bad guys in the area! Is the Navy out of its freakin’ mind?”

  “I hear you, Noose, I hear you,” Avery said, “but I got my orders, and now you got yours. Work up something so McLanahan doesn’t go back to his buddies in Washington and say the Navy blew him off. What happens after they leave here is not my problem.” He shook his head. “I just hope to hell the fleet stays out of their way. ‘The Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Straight’ is on their way to the Pacific.”

  SPRATLY ISLAND, SOUTH CHINA SEA

  SEVERAL WEEKS LATER

  The Socialist Republic of Vietnam’s Gepard-class frigate, HQ-013 Cá map, or Shark, was on patrol near the Vietnamese-occupied Spratly Island. The frigate was Vietnam’s newest warship, Russian designed but license built in Vietnam. It was purpose built for antisubmarine warfare (ASW) with a helicopter with dipping sonar and armed with torpedoes, a variable-depth sonar, four torpedo tubes, and an RBU-6000 multibarrel rocket launcher that sprayed antisubmarine rockets in a dense pattern that were programmed by the fire control officer to detonate at a specified depth. Fast and agile, it was the pride of the Vietnamese navy.

  The HQ-013’s shallow draft of only fifteen feet made it the perfect vessel to patrol within the reefs, sea mounts, and sandbars near the Vietnam military communications facility of Spratly Island. Only thirty-five acres in size but with a population of almost a thousand—mostly army and navy soldiers—the island was the fourth largest in the Spratly Islands archipelago and the largest of the islands occupied by Vietnam. The island was bisected by a two-thousand-foot-long coral and sand runway that ran the entire length of the oblong-shaped island. A jetty on the southeast side of the island extended past the reef surrounding the island, where the water dropped to almost six thousand feet deep in an almost vertical wall, and a long pier was built at the end of the jetty large enough for ferries and big supply vessels making the fifteen-hour cruise from Ho Chi Minh City and to support the many fishing vessels that plied these waters.