Sky Masters pm-2

by Dale Brown

  “Understood, ” the chief of the Jinan ‘s Combat Information Center replied. “Aft launcher, report.” In the large aft missile magazine, a large eighteen-missile rotating drum dropped an HQ-9 1 onto a rail and fed it forward to an open station, where four missileers snapped large triangular fins on the nose and tail sections of the missile body. Two other technicians made a fast check of the finning process, and the missile was sent forward, erected, and rammed upwards onto the launcher rails. A second magazine crew had done the same with a second missile for the twin-rail launcher. As the missiles clicked into place on the launcher, a continuity check was automatically performed and an electronic report received from each missile-if the “report” was missing or erroneous, the launcher would immediately swivel over and down and spit the bad missile down an armored safety chute for examination or disposal. Thirty seconds after the alert was sounded, the aft launcher was loaded and ready, with two more missiles belowdecks finned and ready. “Aft launcher reports ready, sir, ” the aft launch operator reported. “Deck clear, stand by to launch on three, two, one, launch… “The HQ-91 missiles operator checked his readouts, gripped the launch handle, squeezed the safety grip, pulled the trigger, and hit the launch button with his thumb. “Missile one away . . . missile two . . . !”

  “Incoming missiles!” one of the Sea Eagle radar operators suddenly shouted. “High-speed, bearing two-four-one degrees…” Two AGM-84E SLAM missiles from the second B-2 Black Knight in McLanahan’s attack formation had detected the HQ-9I missile fire-control radar and horned in on it just after missile launch. But like the TACIT RAINBOW missiles, the SLAMS were big, subsonic targets, and easy for the destroyer to lock on radar. The vessel’s guns began firing, and with full radar tracking and fire control, they could not miss-both SLAMS were destroyed well before they reached Jinan. But that left them vulnerable to two HARM missiles fired from McLanahan’s B-2. Like TACIT RAINBOW, the HighSpeed Anti-Radar Missiles horned in on enemy radar transmission, but instead of cruising to their targets over long distances and being very inviting targets for enemy gunfire, HARM flew at speeds over Mach three and were often untouched or even undetectable. The longer Jinan kept radars on to track the incoming SLAM missiles, the easier it was for the HARMS to find their targets. The missiles horned in precisely on the fore and aft radar dishes of the “Fog Lamp” fire-control radars, hit, and exploded. Although the HARMs only hit the emitters on the tall foreand-aft antenna masts on the destroyer Jinan, and the two HARMs’ warheads were a scant fifty pounds, the results in the Combat Information Center belowdecks were as disruptive as a nuclear bomb blast. All the cabin and console lights in CIC flicked off immediately, replaced by emergency lights for the cabin only-most of the weapons control systems were dead or in rest. “Hold your positions!” the CIC officer shouted to his console and weapons technicians. “Put your sets in reset and stand by!” The CIC officer picked up the emergency batterypowered telephone. “Bridge, CIC, weapons systems and sensors in full reset. I say again, weapon systems in full reset. Over.”

  “Bridge copies, ” a reply came. “Missile impact on both main and aft mast.” The CIC officer felt his jaw drop. Both masts-that meant both HQ-9I missile directors were down. The Sea Eagle search radar, which was still operational, could be used for fire control, but it was highly inaccurate. They could still direct attacks by the other patrol boats, however, but in just a split second a four-thousand-ton warship was rendered virtually impotent… … But not entirely impotent. When the lights came back on a few moments later, most of the C1C’s equipment was still in working order. “There’s a second bomber out there somewhere, and I want it, ” he shouted at his Combat Information Center crew. Get a report from up on deck, make sure all our weapons are clear to fire-the forward 100 and the aft HQ-91 launcher should both be clear. I want infrared and low-light sensor manned, and I want Sea Eagle slaved to the one-hundred-millimeter cannon and HQ-9 1. Bridge, CIC, I show the aft HQ-9 1 system still operational. Clear me to engage the second stealth bomber.”

  “C-3 band uplink shut ……. search radar only, ” McLanahan reported. “I think I got the missile director. Damn, I wish I could say thank you to those guys in the other B-2. I think they saved our bacon with those SLAM launches.” His eyes were glued to the SMFD, checking the rear hemisphere tail warning radar for any sign of tracking Masurca missiles. But after two minutes, nothing appeared. Patrick took a deep breath, as if it were the first time all day he’d been able to breathe, and Cobb rustled uneasily in his seat as the threat from the destroyer passed-for Cobb, that was akin to a wild shout of relief. McLanahan said, “Still got two India-band control radars at two o’clock. Give me thirty degrees left, let’s give these guys a wide berth.” He opened the left bomb bay and readied two more HARM missiles of his own to engage the patrol boats. “Search radar only, six o’clock… that destroyer must still have its air-search radar on.. .” Patrick considered turning back to get within range of one more HARM missile launch at the destroyer’s big search radar, or perhaps even a SLAM missile launch at the destroyer itself, but the patrol boat’s gun-control radars ahead were a bigger threat now. With the destroyer’s big threat, the HQ-9 1 surface-to-air missile, gone, the B-52s could take care of the destroyer now. . . 1 “Tracking air target at bearing three-four-two, range eleven miles and increasing, altitude less than eighty meters.. .” The radar operator quickly checked the track history of that target; it had none. It had literally appeared out of nowhere, right in the middle of the Chinese fleet, and it was about to disappear once again… So this is what a stealth bomber looked like on radar! “Commit aft HQ-91 missiles, ” the CIC officer aboard Jinan ordered. “Yes, sir… aft HQ-9I missiles showing faulted, track error.” “Bypass it. Slave to the Sea Eagle system for command guidance. “Copy… fault log cleared, HQ-9I slaved to air-search radar only, no target illuminations, beam-riding mode only . launcher crew reports ready.”

  “Four-missile salvo . . . shoot.” It was the definition of a long shot all the way-a faint radar return from the suspected stealth bomber, no solid lock-on, heavy jamming, no target illumination for the HQ-91 to follow, no lead-computing mathematics or sophisticated intercept trigonometry, no proximity detonation-the missiles were going to either miss or hit the target square-on. The second B-2 had the unfortunate luck to make a slight turn to line up on a Chinese patrol boat that had locked onto it with a fire-control radar. The first HQ-9I streaked by just to the left of the bomber, but the second of the four-missile salvo hit the Black Knight on the left wing, exploding and turning the entire left side of the high-tech bomber into a huge yellow fireball in seconds. The bomber hit the warm waters of the Celebes Sea with the force of a car crusher, killing the crew instantly. The boomerang-shaped aircraft cartwheeled edge-on across the water for several thousand yards before plunging into the waters and disappearing from sight forever. “Target hit! Good hit on number-two aircraft!” A cheer went up in Jinan ‘s Combat Information Center… … but it was very short-lived. “Warning! Incoming missiles, multiple contacts, bearing . . . opposite side, one-four-three, range thirty miles, altitude. . . altitude less than fifty metet speed six hundred knots!” It had to be the Tomahawk missiles, the ones that had vived Kafeng ‘s counterattack. “Radio to all vessels, missile warning, direct defensive fire on. “B-52 bombers launching missiles, bearing two-zero-LIFE, range fifty-one nautical miles… encountering heavy jamrnlr now, all frequencies . Missiles coming from two sides now. . . one, maybe n B-2s roaming around. . . a B-52 that everyone has lost track of… things were not going well all of a sudden. At less than thirty miles’ range, the Tomahawk missiles were his first priority. Captain Jhijun screamed so loud into the intercom that it probably didn’t need an amplifier: “CIC, bridge, I need an intercept estimate. Can you get the Iomahawk missiles?”

  “Jamming is heavy, but I think we can manually maintain a lock. Intercept confidence is good. But the number of inbounds is unknown… “Engage as many as you can, ‘ Jhijun said. “Our
close-in weapons should get the rest.” Along with its 130-millimeter, and 25-millimeter antiaircraft guns, the destroyer Jinan carried two American-made Mk IS Phalanx cannons, one on each side, which were automatic radar-guided Gatling guns designed to destroy incoming missiles at close range. Ironic that they would be used to engage American missiles. “Sir! Three B-52 bombers that were reported turning west and disengaging-they are now turning northbound and appear to be re-engaging. They are at forty-three nautical miles, at extreme HQ-91 range.” Damn them! Jhijun cursed to himself. There were just too many of them. Well, the bombers were out of range-at least he still had a chance to get the cruise missiles before they started attacking the landing ships. “Message to all units: at least three, perhaps as many as six B-52s and at least one B-2 inbound from the south of Davao Gulf. Destroyer Jinan is unable to engage because of Tomahawk cruise missiles coming in from the southeast. Request fighter and surface support.” He received a reply moments later: “Sir, destroyer Hong Lung will provide support. Admiral Yin sends his compliments and advises you that the Tomahawk missiles are your priority. . . your personal priority.” Captain Jhijun swallowed hard when he heard the name Hong Lung, but when he got the message from Yin himself, his skin turned to ice. Every cruise missile he allowed to pass him, he knew, would mean a year in prison or a full reduction in grade. His career-more precisely, his lIje-rested on his performance now. DESTROYER HONG LUNG, SIXTY MILES WEST OF DESTROYER 1/NAN Aboard the flag bridge of the flagship of the South Philippines Task Force, three large grease boards were kept constantly updated on the deployment of warships in this operation. It was beginning to resemble a child’s crayon-drawn rendering of a beehive-Mindanao-with swarms of angry bees surrounding it. And the bees were getting closer and closer to the hive every minute. … Admiral Yin Po L’un could easily see the American tactic now: strike at the Chinese fleet from simultaneous, multiple axes of attack. Along with the reported B-2s and B-52s coming in from the south and the Tomahawk cruise missiles from the southeast, he had also received word of more B-52s from the east and B- Is from the northeast, followed by more B-52s and faster bombers, possibly FIlls, accompanying them. Jamming was heavy in all areas, so obviously a few of the aircraft were not strikers but electronic-countermeasure planes. Captain Sun Ji Guoming, Yin’s chief of staff, said, “A rough estimate so far is twenty-six B-52 bombers, six B-I bombers, four B-2 bombers-one reportedly shot down already by ]inan-possibly two EF-I I I electronic-countermeasure planes, and perhaps four to six F- I I I fighter-bombers involved in this raid. If this is so, the First Air Battle Wing has committed at least three-fourths and possibly as much as four-fifths of its force on this one escapade.” Sun smiled knowingly. “We can crush the American Air Force in one night’s work.”

  “Is that so, Captain?” Yin asked in a low voice. “You say we have shot down only one plane so far, yet they have sunk one destroyer and one frigate, damaged two other frigates, and sunk or damaged nearly two dozen patrol boats. In less than thirty minutes they can be over Davao Gulf itself. I see no evidence of anyone being crushed so far.”

  “They have suffered a great loss well before striking the target area or even coming within range of concentrated firepower, ” Sun explained. “They will suffer tremendous losses when they come within range of the destroyers Yinchuan and Dalian near Davao itself. The American forces are undisciplined-they are launching antiradar and other guided weapons at every small patrol boat they encounter, without bothering to save their weapons for the frigates, destroyers, or landing-craft carriers. It was sheer luck that they sunk Huangshi and Kazjeng, and Yingtan is still operational…”

  “You failed to adequately take into account the possibility of a Tomahawk cruise missile attack, ” Admiral Yin said angrily. “They were able to overwhelm our outer defenses too easily. And why was I never advised of the presence of B-2 stealth bombers on Guam. . .?”

  “Sir, the fleet intelligence center reported that the Ranger’s battle group was still in Manado and that Indonesia had not given permission for offensive operations, ” Sun explained. “If those cruisers launched their missiles from Indonesian waters, that is an illegal act . Yin glared at Sun, not satisfied with that explanation at all. “Admiral, Hong Lung is engaging B-52 bombers at extreme range, ” the communications officer reported. They could feel the distant rumble of the destroyer’s two big combination diesel-turbine engines spooling up to maximum speed, and the ship made a hard turn to starboard briefly before settling down. “Antiship missiles launched… jamming ineffective at this range, good radar contact, intercept confidence is high on all tracks.” Yin looked away from Captain Sun, finding it hard to fault Sun too much-had he not suggested that Hong Lung travel east to assist in the invasion defense, all these aged American bombers might well be attacking his Marines by now. “Report on the invasion force, ” Yin ordered. “Are they ready to land?”

  “All vessels in position, ” Captain Sun reported. “The bombardment was to commence in two hours, and the invasion was to begin in three…”

  “It can no longer wait, ” Yin said. “Order the landing craft to head ashore immediately.”

  “But sir, we have not had time to prepare the beachhead for our forces, ” Sun argued. “There could be anything waiting for them. We should proceed with the bombardment first and shell the beachhead for at least an hour before-“

  “We may not have an hour before those bombers and cruise missiles are on top of them, ” Yin said. “Issue the orders and get those Marines on the beach.”

  “There is no need for haste, sir, ” Sun tried one last time. “We should wait to see if any of the American bombers go overhead-perhaps the American bombers will even bomb the beach for us. In any case, our forces should not be on the beach when the bombers come in. “Neither should they be in the landing craft on Davao Gulf, ” Yin said, his voice louder and sharper this time. Sun knew enough to hold his tongue then. The uncomfortable silence in the flag staff was broken by the combat-alert horn as the destroyer began prosecuting its attack on the B-52s swarming around them. … FORTY MILES EAST OF THE CHINESE DESTROYER HONG LUNG The six B-52 G-model Stratofortress bombers in the southern strike group were threading the needle here in the worst possible sense-trapped between two Chinese destroyers, with no place to hide except for an electronic curtain of jammers. Their only hope: throttles to military power, altitude pegged at one hundred feet, and hope to make landfall at Balut Island or Sarangani Island, twenty miles ahead, before the crush of Chinese antiair missiles found them. Although they were not receiving any missile fire-control signals from the eastern destroyer, it had still somehow shot down the B-2 with a missilethey were going to give both destroyers as much space as possible. “Trick Zero-Two, this is One, ” the lead B-52 pilot called out on the tactical frequency. “We’ve got a radar fix on those ships to the west. I’ve got four Harpoons left. We’re going for it.” As soon as the navigators plotted the position of the ships, they commanded a climb to three hundred feet and launched their last four AGM-84 Harpoon missiles at the ships. The first two Harpoons were the original air-launched model, which flew directly toward the ships at five hundred and fifty miles per hour; the second two missiles were the advanced AGM-84E SLAM missile, which was far more flexible in selecting an evasive course and attacking from multiple directions and altitudes. While the first two Harpoons sped directly for Hong Lung, the second two split north and south of the destroyer, so in effect the Hong Lung was attacked from three sides simultaneously. The engagement worked-the southerly missile, being steered by the first B-52’s radar navigator, impacted just above the waterline on the starboard side of the escort frigate Change De, putting it out of action immediately, and one minesweeper]patrol boat riding point for the Hong Lung was hit by a Harpoon missile. The other Harpoon and SLAM missiles were destroyed by gunfire from Hong Lung and its surviving escorts. But the counterattack by Hong Lung was devastating-the sky filled with antiair missiles as soon as the B-52 attacked. Releasing all four of
its remaining Harpoon missiles on the Hong Lung battle group created a big, bright “arrow” to point the way for the Chinese fire-control operators, and Hong Lung released four HQ-9 I air-to-air missiles at the B-52 within a few seconds, followed by a volley of four more. “Time to get the hell out of here, ” the pilot of the first B-52 shouted-for his own benefit more than for his copilot or the rest of the crew. “Get rid of those mines and let’s split!” The last of the conventional B-52’s weapons were four Mk 60 CAPTOR torpedoes on clip racks in the forward part of the bomb bay. CAPTOR, which stood for Encapsulated Torpedo, was a large canister containing an Mk 46 torpedo and complex sensor gear. As the B-52 began a tight right turn away from the western destroyer, it began sowing the CAPTOR mines in the eastern Celebes Sea. After activation, the canisters would lie on the seabed or hang suspended in the water until a warship passed by. When the sound, pressure, and magnetic parameters matched its pre-programmed settings, the mine would track the target and launch the torpedo. The torpedo had a range of six miles, and one CAPTOR by itself could sink all but the largest class of Chinese surface ships or submarines. In two minutes, all four CAPTOR mines were released, and the airspeed of the B-52 increased dramatically. Now weaponless, it dropped a cloud of radar-decoying chaff and continued its right turn to a safe southerly heading. But at its high speed the tightest turn the bomber could make was still twenty-five miles-directly in the path of two of the stricken destroyer Jinan ‘s patrol-boat escorts. Guided byjinan ‘s one remaining air-search radar and using infrared sights, the patrol boats opened fire on the bomber with 57-millimeter, 37-millimeter, and 25-millimeter gunfire, rattling every inch of the big jet with shells. The B-52’s cockpit windows shattered, decapitating the two pilots and sending the stricken aircraft crashing into the sea. The crash of the B-52 not more than three kilometers away was the most incredible sight any of the seventy-man crew of the Haijui-class patrol boat Yingkou had ever seen. The mushroom cloud of fire had to be a kilometer high, and flames were so big and so hot that the captain could swear he felt the heat from inside the bridge. The fireball skipped across the water, rolling and rushing along like a huge orange-and-red tidal wave. It was utterly spectacular. After a few minutes of awe, the bridge crew broke out into wild cheers as the flames began to die away-and then the crew ran for cover as bits of flying metal and thick clouds of smoke rolled across the water. “Radar contact, second and third B-52 bombers, ” came the report from his fire-control officer. “I have a good track on both planes-they should be turning this way just like the first. Five minutes before the next one passes close enough.” This was going to be incredible, the captain thought-he might easily kill a second, and perhaps even a third B-52 with his 57-millimeter gun tonight. He would certainly get his own frigate after tonight… “Move farther west, ” he ordered his helmsman. “I want to be as close as possible to these last twO bombers.” The helmsman went to flank speed in order to get a few meters closer to the bomber’s track-every hundred meters closer was another dozen rounds on target. “Second bomber turning east, range decreasing . . . he’s coming this way, sir… I’m getting jamming on my fire-control radar . . . forward 57 switching to electro-optical sights with data link from Jinan. . . target reacquired, forward 57- and port 30-millimeter report ready.” This was perfect, really perfect. The other patrol boat escorting the destroyer Jinan had no data link with the destroyer $ air-search radar, so all he could do was follow Yingkou ‘s tracers. He would never be credited with a kill… “Thirty seconds… twenty seconds… all gun mounts report ready. . . fifteen seconds. . . all guns stand. He never finished the sentence. The first CAPTOR torpedo mine had armed immediately upon hitting the water and, despite the incredible sounds of destruction from the B-52 crash, had locked onto the engine sounds of the Haijui-class patrol boat as soon as he gunned his engine, and ejected its deadly torpedo. The torpedo switched on its active sonar, acquired and locked onto the patrol boat, accelerated to nearly fifty miles per hour, and hit the patrol boat near the engine compartment one foot below the waterline. A shaped charge rammed a titanium nosecap through the patrol boat’s hull, and the torpedo actually swam three feet inside the port engine room before its eight-hundred-pound warhead exploded. With most of its stern blown apart, Yingkou slipped under the surface in less than two minutes-about as long as it took the last of the burning debris of Trick Zero-One to hit the water. The other two B-52s in the first south attack group avenged their leader’s death with a flurry of Harpoon missile launches, and within minutes three more of Jinan ‘s patrol boats had been destroyed. Jinan itself, overwhelmed by Harpoon missiles from the south as well as the flight of Tomahawk cruise missiles from the southeast, was hit by both a Tomahawk and a Harpoon and was put out of action. ABOARD THE EB-52C MEGAFORTRESS DIAMOND ONE-ONE It was a surprise for Major Kelvin Carter to see the COLA (Computer Generated Lowest Altitude) computer command a climb after so many hours at one relatively stable altitude, but as the Megafortress approached the tall, rocky peaks of the Nenusa Archipelago islands, the EB-52 wanted to climb six hundred feet to clear the tallest peak. Carter edged his Megafortress slightly south of the tiny radar dots, and, after the computer realized it would safely clear all the terrain, the Megafortress sank back to one hundred feet above the eastern Celebes Sea. Alicia Kellerman was busily plotting the positions of the other planes in the strike team as she heard position reports come over the radio. “All right!” she said. “All six BUFFS in the number-two east group and Diamond One-Two made it through. They’re two minutes ahead of us.”