Sky Masters полностью

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 missile — they 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-91 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 by Jinan'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 or- ange-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.