Sky Masters pm-2

by Dale Brown

  “Copy.” The commander was carefully trying not to let his frustration and impatience show. American B-52s had been flying these “ferret” missions for many days now, passing just inside missile range of the destroyer’s missiles, then hightailing it out when missile-guidance signals were aimed at it. It was always one bomber, always at thirty thousand feet, always challenging in this same location. It stayed high and relatively slow-very nonthreatening despite being within extreme range of Harpoon antiship missiles it might be carrying. It was obviously collecting intelligence information-it was probably crammed with sensors and recorders, hoping to intercept radio messages or analyze missile fire control radar signals… … or it was crammed with antiship missiles, ready to strike. “Comm, bridge, any response from that plane about our airdefense warnings?”

  “None, sir, ” the communications officer replied. Kafeng, as well as other ships in the South Philippines Task Force commanded by Admiral Yin Po L’un, had been warning all aircraft to stay away from this area for days now. The area over the Celebes Sea had been a very well used airway for travelers heading to Brunei, Malaysia, Indonesia, and Singapore through Samar International Airport, but the People’s Liberation Army Air Force had refused all access to the region, and air traffic to and from Manila was tightly controlled. All air traffic was forced to fly farther south through the sparsely populated islands of northern Indonesia. Philippines supply routes in the South China Sea were virtually isolated. But with the nuclear explosion near Palawan and the extreme danger of radiation poisoning and contamination, these areas were being studiously avoided anyhow. The American Air Battle Force, however, was obviously ignoring all warnings. “CIC, bridge, position of our fighter coverage. “Sir, Liang-Two flight of eight J-7 fighters are over Nenusa Archipelago, one hundred eleven kilometers northwest of the B-52. They are less than ten minutes from bingo fuel and have already received permission to return to Zamboanga for refueling. Sichuan-One-Zero flight of four Q-5 fighters are three hundred kilometers northwest of the B-52, headed southeast to take over for Liang-Two flight.” Damned sparse fighter coverage, Kafeng ‘s commander thought to himself. Because that bomber was a “ferret, ” running away at the first sign of trouble, they were not giving it as much fighter attention as they should. Well, that was going to stop right here and now. “CIC, bridge, chase that damned plane out of here, ” Kaifeng ‘s commander ordered. At this point chasing “Old Gas” out of antiship-missile range was more important than revealing radar frequencies. “Hit them with the fire-control radar.” That was usually plenty to make the B-52 turn and run. “Yes, sir, ” the combat information officer responded. “Shall I recall Liang-Two flight to provide air cover?”

  “Get a fuel state from them. If they have not reached bingo fuel yet, have them engage. If they have reached bingo, engage with the HQ-9 1 system. Then vector in Sichuan-Ten flight and have them chase that B-52 out past two hundred kilometers.” The warning tone over the interphone system for a missile acquisition radar was different from a search radar-in general, the more serious a threat, the faster and more insistent the tone. The appearance of a “Search” radar gave a rather leisurely “Deeedle… Deeedle… Deeedle. “When the Chinese Golf-band air-search radar changed to an India-band missile acquisition radar, the tone was a fast, loud “Deeedledeeedledeeedledeeedle!” At the same time, “Missile Warning” lights illuminated at every station of the EB-52C Megafortress bomber orbiting at thirty thousand feet over the Philippine Sea. “Missile warning, twelve o’clock, ” the electronic warfare officer, First Lieutenant Robert Atkins, announced. “Indiaband radar… ‘Fog Lamp’ SAM director for an HQ-91 missile. This’ll change to missile launch at any second.” Atkins’ voice became squeakier with every passing moment-he was an engineer, not a crew dog, and he never thought he’d be taking these behemoth modified B-52s into battle. “Don’t sweat it, ” Major Kelvin Carter, the Megafortress’s pilot, said, trying to project the most confident voice he could. “They’re just trying to scare us out. Easy on the jammers until the shit starts rollin’.” Carter’s words did little to calm young Atkins down, so he turned back to the peace and security he usually got from the one thing that he knew he could trust in this screwed-up world-his equipment. Designed at the High Technology Aerospace Weapons Center several years ago by a near-mythical engineer named Wendy Tork, Atkins had improved on Tork’s groundbreaking designs and produced what was probably the best electronic warfare suite ever to leave the ground. Atkins was sitting before a complex of multi-function displays on the Megafortress Plus’s upper deck, scanning the skies for enemy radars and programming the bomber’s array of jammers against each one. His ECM system automatically processed the electronic signals, analyzed them, identified them, pointed out their range and bearing from the Megafortress, and selected the appropriate jamming packages to use against them. It could do the same with a hundred other signals from very long ranges. The system would also automatically dispense decoys against radar or heat-seeking missiles to protect them from missile attacks. A B-52G or -H Stratofortress bomber had performed all the other “ferret” flights from Guam in the past few days, but tonight it was an EB-52 Megafortress pulling the unenviable task of drawing the attention of the Chinese Navy and assessing the threats present around eastern Mindanao-a regular B-52 was hardly qualified to take such a risk. All in all, the system relegated Atkins to a “verbal squawk box” role-what the others called “crew coordination” was still a foreign concept to him, since everything on the Megafortress was so automated-as it should be, of course. Why risk an extra human life on board, when a computer could do the job faster, better, and cheaper anyway? His directed defensive weapons were designed to operate automatically as well. The Megafortress had eight AGM-136A TACIT RAINBOW antiradar cruise missiles in clip-in racks in the forward part of the bomb bay, plus a rotary launcher with eight AGM-88B HARM High-Speed Anti-Radar Missiles in the aft bomb bay. The electronic countermeasures system would automatically program both the HARM and TACIT RAINBOW missiles for a particular enemy radar system they encountered. In case that particular radar was shut down during a TACIT RAINBOW attack, the missile would stay aloft for several minutes, search for just that radar, home in on it, and destroy it after reactivation. If another ship tried to shoot down the subsonic TACIT RAINBOW cruise missile with radar-controlled guns, Atkins could launch supersonic HARM missiles at the radar and destroy it. The bottom line: he had designed all this to be totally automatic, and it was obvious that he didn’t fit in with this crew. Why in hell then was he here? Seated beside Atkins was the Megafortress’s “gunner, ” Master Sergeant Kory Karbayjal. Karbayjal and the other noncommissioned officers flying that position still liked the name “gunner” or “bulldog, ” although the term was an anachronism-the old .50-caliber machine guns or 20-millimeter Gatling gun of other, more conventional BUFFs were gone, replaced by the EB-52’s array of defensive missiles. The Megafortress carried twelve AIM-120C AMRAAM missiles on wing pylons, and it carried fifty small Stinger rear-firing heat-seeking antiaircraft missiles in the tail launcher. That was another job that could be done by computers, too, although Karbayjal obviously enjoyed his work. Karbayjal, a twenty-six-year veteran of the B-52, had flown the old D-model BUFFs, the ones where the gunner sat in the tail in a tiny compartment with his machine guns and used only his eyes to spot enemy fighters. He took it upon himself to look after young Atkins just as much as he looked for enemy fighters, something that Atkins resented as well. The navigators, Captains Paul Scott and Alicia Kellerman, were downstairs keeping track of their position and preparing for fighter combat-the four Megafortress strategic escort bombers on this mission carried no ground-attack weapons because they were all designed to blast through enemy defenses and give the other strike aircraft a better chance of reaching their targets. Scott could use his attack radar to designate and track targets for their AIM- 120 air-to-air missiles, while Alicia Kellerman controlled the dorsal ISAR radar and kept track of all other aircraft and enemy shi
ps in the area. The pilots, Major Kelvin Carter and Lieutenant Nancy Cheshire, were very quiet-they were obviously steeling themselves for the battle that was about to begin. Using the large dorsal side-looking radar in ISAR (inversesynthetic aperture radar) mode, Kellerman had already identified the largest ship ahead as a Luda-class destroyer even before its weapons radars came up, so Atkins had already anticipated what kind of radars and weapons the vessel had and how to deal with each one. The Megafortress’s ISAR system had also mapped out the locations and movements of the other vessels in the south and west groups of Chinese ships and had passed that information to other aircraft. The “Missile Warning” light was still on, and they were driving closer and closer to the Chinese destroyer. Atkins still had nojammers on the missile acquisition radar-jamming the signal too early would surely elicit a very angry response from the Chinese. “We gotta shit or get off the pot here, kids. . . a few more miles and we’ll be under attack “Sixty seconds, ” the crew navigator, Captain Alicia Kellerman, announced. Like most of the crews from the High Technology Aerospace Weapons Center, Kellerman was an ex-crew member-formerly on KC- 135 tankers-who put their engineering degrees to good use at the Dreamland research facility. Although flying was part of their job descriptions, flying into combat was completely unexpected-but Kellerman loved it. “Start countermeasures in forty seconds, release configuration checks completed. . . thirty seconds.” Suddenly Atkins got an inverted “V” bat-wing signal on his radar threat-warning scope. The computer monitor hesitated momentarily, then issued a stream of identification data. “I’ve got a fighter, twelve o’clock, range… range is undetermined yet, but he’s outside forty miles. Stand by, Paul.” Paul Scott was ready to use the EB-52’s attack radar to lock onto the fighter and provide fire control instructions for their AIM- 120 air-toair missiles, but it might not yet be necessary. “I’ve got a range-only radar. Skyranger type 226, probably a J-7 fighter, Chinese copy of a MiG-21F. Max range of the radar is only twenty miles, and he’s well outside that . . . fighter radar’s down.” The Skyranger radar was useless for searching for targets because it supplied only range information to the fighter’s computers-this J-7 fighter needed ground-controlled intercept radar to attack targets. It was still deadly, but it was not very sophisticated-Atkins’ tiny AIM-120C missiles had a better radar than the J-7 fighter. “There could be more than one out there.” Great, Carter thought. Here’s where the shit hits the fan. “Paul, get a range and a firing solution on them, ” Carter said. “We can’t stay radar-silent forever.”

  “Copy, ” Scott said. He slaved his attack radar antenna to Atkins’ threat-warning receiver bearing and switched it to “Radiate.” “Got ‘em, ” Scott called out, switching off the radar immediately. “I counted at least four fighters, forty-five nautical miles, slightly above us. Could be four groups of two.” LIANG-2 FIGHT, CHINESE PLA NAVY j-7 FIGHTER GROUP Aboard the lead JS-7 fighter of Liang-2 air-defense group, the threat radar suddenly lit up with a fighter-style threat symbol-but it was from one of his own fighters. “Liang flight, lead, keep your damned radars off.” The radar indication quickly disappeared. He was leading a group of rather young, inexperienced pilots on their sixth overwater air-defense mission, and they were constantly flipping switches in their cockpits to keep from getting too bored. The JS-7 fighter was one of the newest and best fighters in the People’s Liberation Army Air Force. Originally offered only for export as the Super-7, but later purchased in small numbers by the Chinese government itself, it was a major upgrade of the J-7 fighter, incorporating a lot of imported technology to bring it up-to-date with the rest of the world’s best fighters-a French-made multimode attack radar and heads-up display similar to the American F- 16 Fighting Falcon, West German] British] Italian-built high-performance Turbo-Union RB199 engines, additional weapons racks to carry ECM pods, and greater fuel capacity. Because there were so few, and because they were so far advanced over their older J-7 cousins, they were used only as flight leads for fighter patrols, where they could vector other J-7 fighters in on targets while attacking targets of their own. Another radar threat indication flashed on his ThomsonCSF BF screen. He was about to chastise his charges once again. . . before realizing it was from in front of him instead of beside him this time! There was another fighter out there! An American fighter-out here? “Fayling, this is Liang flight, ” the leadJ-7 pilot radioed, using the universal call-sign for all Chinese seaborne radar controllers instead of broadcasting the destroyer’s name. “Fighter warning. Twelve o’clock, type unknown. What are you tracking?” The Sea Eagle radar operator aboard Kafeng replied, “Liang flight, we have been tracking a B-52 bomber at your twelve o’clock position, not a fighter. Over.”

  “I have a fighter-type radar, not a bomber.” Curse it, the destroyer had been tracking this intruder all this time thinking it was a bomber. How could he be so stupid… ? “Request permission to close and identify. Over.”

  “Liang flight and Sichuan flight, you are clear to close and identify. Liang flight, say your bingo.”

  “Liang flight is two minutes to bingo, ” the flight leader reported. “Request permission to send all but myself and one wingman back to base. We will identify the aircraft and engage until Sichuan-Ten flight is in position. Over.” After a short wait, the radar controller aboard Kazfeng replied, “Request approved. Homebound Liang elements, climb clear to twelve thousand meters on heading two-nine-zero, vector clear of inbound Sichuan-Ten flight. Liang-Two flight of two, your target is at twelve o’clock, seventy kilometers, altitude ten thousand meters, climb to twelve thousand meters to intercept. Sichuan-Ten flight maintain heading one-five-three. Low patrol, descend to five thousand meters and go to frequency yellow. High patrol, descend to nine thousand five hundred and meet your controller on frequency yellow-5. Target is four-four-zero bull’s-eye. Good hunting.” The lead pilot aboard the JS-7 fighter quickly determined the target’s range by the bull’s-eye call-the distance from Davao Airport, a common navigation point for all Chinese fighters-and found that he was within radar range. The JS-7 fighter used an upgraded French radar system called CyranoIV, which was very close in capability to the amazing American F- 16 fighter radar-it could lock onto multiple targets at fantastic ranges and could attack several targets at once with missiles or guns. “Liang flight, take combat spacing and stand by to engage Up in the cockpit, Major Kelvin Carter took a firm grip on the Megafortress’s sidestick controller. This was not going to be an easy run. A million things were zipping through his head: G-limits on the composite fibersteel structures, angle-of-attack limits, airspeed warnings, pitch-angle versus airspeed . “Fighter!” Atkins suddenly screamed out. “Twelve o’clock… Jesus, very close, X-band pulse Doppler… calling it a Chinese JS-7 fighter. Man, he’s right on top of us “Lock him up and engage, ” Carter cried out. He doublechecked the rows of consent switches on his left panel. “Stand by for descent, crew. Scott reacted first, hitting the “Transmit” button on his attack radar and letting the radar lock onto the fighters ahead. “Two targets, twelve o’clock, closure rate eleven hundred… additional targets, climbing and going away, looks like they’re disengaging… I’ve got a lock on the two heading for us Atkins reacted next, activating his forward jammers to shut down the X-band fire-control radar. He readied other jammers to get the Skyranger radar when it came up as well. . Karbayjal activated his weapons computers and watched as each AIM-I 20 Scorpion missile completed its split-second built-in checks. “BIT checks completed, data transfer… missiles away.” Two bright streaks of light flashed past the cockpit as two radar-guided missiles sped into the darkness. Just then Kellerman noticed several low-flying objects on her ISAR side-locking radar display, overtaking them from the left. They formed a slowly dispersing trail of subsonic missiles, all traveling northwestbound. “Tomahawks away, Tomahawks away!” she cried out. “Missiles tracking… active seekers on… bad track on one Scorpion, looks like a tracking fault, ” Karbayjal called out. Carter could see the missile plume from the right
pylon wobble a bit, seconds before exploding. “Lost track on one missile.”

  “Descending, crew, ” Carter called out. “Nancy, watch my redlines. Here we go . . .” Carter pulled the Megafortress’s eight throttles to 70-percent power, waited for fifty knots of airspeed to bleed off, raised the airbrakes, then tipped the Megafortress into a steep 70-degree right bank, keeping forward pressure on the control stick but keeping the long, pointed 5ST-style nose on the horizon. With no more lift being developed by the huge wings, the four-hundred-thousandpound bomber descended like Lucifer cast into Hell…. The radar target on his Cyrano-IV fire-control radar had suddenly started descending, so fast the radar could hardly keep up with it-it looked like it was crashing, and no one had shot a missile yet . Just then his radar threat-receiver flashed a “Missile Launch” indication. “Liang flight, break!” he shouted on the radio. In a pre-determined sequence, the J-7 fighter climbed and turned right, and the JS-7 fighter, because it was more powerful and could climb faster to re-attack, descended and turned left. The JS-7 fighter also carried radar-jamming and chaff and flare pods, and the pilot made sure all were activated as he brought his weapons on-line and prepared to attack. “Fayling, Fayling, Liang-Two flight under missile attack!” He dumped chaff and flare bundles, rolled right, went to military power, and raised the nose to re-acquire the bomber. . . or whatever it was. Just as he did, he saw a flash of light above and a bit behind him, then a growing trail of fire, and he knew his wingman was hit. “Fayling, Liang-507 is hit. 507, 507 can you hear me? You are on fire. Repeat you are on fire. Eject! Eject! Eject!” No response. The trail of fire began to grow as the J-7 fighter spiraled to the sea and disappeared. CHINESE DESTROYER EAIFRNG The radar blips first appeared as helicopters and were classified as such by the destroyer’s Sea Eagle three-dimensional search radar, but it was quickly obvious that the air target was climbing and accelerating much too quickly for a rotary-wing machine. The radar operator aboard the destroyer Kazjeng immediately rang his superior officer in the ship’s Combat Information Center. “Sir, rapidly moving air target launched from a vessel in the Sterett surface-action group, bearing one-four-eight, speed . . . speed approaching four hundred knots and accelerating, altitude decreasing to below one hundred meters, range five-zero nautical miles.” There was no aircraft carrier out there, so it could only be one thing-Suspected Tomahawk cruise missiles in flight…” The officer in CIC reacted immediately: he hit the alarm button and rang the line direct to the bridge: “Bridge, CIC, missile alert, missile alert, we have suspected American cruise missiles being launched from the Sterett surface action group.”