The aircraft, as black as the tropical night sky from which it descended, used the runway closest to the parking area and did not touch down until nearly halfway down the two-mile- long runway at Andersen Air Force Base so it would spend as little time as possible exposed to view while taxiing. At the end of the runway, it taxied rapidly across the wide north ramp to a row of large hangars and pulled straight into the first one. The hangar doors were closed behind it seconds later as the engines were shut down. Security patrols began an immediate sweep of the area, using dogs and light-intensifying night-vision equipment to search for intruders.
The interior of the huge hangar brightly illuminated the sleek, bat-shaped outline of the B-2 Black Knight stealth bomber. Maintenance crews checked the aircraft and immediately began opening inspection and access panels. A few moments later the belly hatch swung open and three men climbed down the access ladder.
As Major Henry Cobb, Lieutenant Colonel Patrick McLanahan, and Brigadier General John Ormack emerged from the huge black bomber, General Elliott, General Stone, Jon Masters, and Colonel Fusco were there to greet them. “Good to see you guys,” Elliott said, shaking each of their hands and handing each of them a beer.
“We’re damned glad to be here,” Cobb exclaimed. “My butt is wondering if my legs have been cut off.” All three aviators looked completely exhausted and thoroughly rumpled, but their smiles were genuine as Elliott made introductions all around.
The formalities of every military flight still had to be accomplished, so Elliott and the others waited patiently as Cobb and McLanahan completed their postflight walk- around inspection of the bomber and sat down with several aircraft-maintenance technicians to explain the few glitches found during flight. Afterward they were taken to a conference room at the command post, where sandwiches, more beer, and several other members of Stone’s staff were waiting to greet them.
“I must say, this is a pretty impressive showing,” Rat Stone said after the three crew members were settled down. “Deploying a B-2 from South Dakota to Guam with only three hours’ notice, then flying nonstop all the way. So what’s it like to spend nearly seventeen hours straight in a stealth bomber?”
“The first ten aren’t too bad, sir,” Ormack replied with a tired grin. “Henry made the takeoff and the first two refuelings, but I was too wired to sleep. We switched just past Hawaii. When we got out of radio range of Hawaii, it was absolute murder to stay awake until the next refueling — near Wake Island, as it so happens. The last four hours were the worst — too keyed up to sleep, too tired to concentrate, having to make those timing orbits so we wouldn’t land too early and get our pictures taken by the Chinese spy satellites. I’m too old for these butt-busting missions.”
“Well, you did good,” Elliott said. “You landed right on time — the Chinese bird should be passing overhead right about now. Unless there’s a sub out there we haven’t found yet, we may have pulled this off — deploying a stealth bomber seven thousand miles in total secrecy. How’s the bomber look?”
“Everything’s in the green,” McLanahan said. “We brought spares for most of the critical components, and we have the computerized blueprints on the PACER SKY mod installation.” He turned to Jon Masters and said, “The system was working like a charm, Doctor Masters. We were able to monitor some of the
“That’s exactly what we intend to do,” Stone said. “We got a cryptic but urgent report from the State Department that the Chinese Navy might try something against the fleet if we move into the Celebes Sea, so except for the RC-135 overflight — and he’s been instructed to stay at extreme sensor range from any Chinese vessels — we’re staying well away.”
“Well, the RC was still a few hours from on-station, but he should have the Chinese ships’ position from the NIRT- Sat — he shouldn’t have any problem staying out of the way. I recorded the NIRTSat transmissions, and we can download it from the memory banks right away.” McLanahan stifled a big yawn, finished the rest of his beer, then added, “Rather,
From thirty thousand feet, the radar aboard the RC-135X radar reconnaissance aircraft could pick out the dense clusters of islands, atolls, and coral reefs of the Sulu Archipelago. At the very tip of the peninsula was the area that most of the ten radar operators on the RC-135 reconnaissance aircraft were concentrating on.
