Sky Masters полностью

McLanahan touched an icon on his SMFD, and several blinking objects and a short data list appeared on the God’s- eye view. The Tomahawk cruise missiles could be interrogated just like a manned aircraft. “About ten miles ahead of the B-52s and not far behind us. We’ll go feet-dry, turn west, and let the Tomahawks go past us as they head inland; when they get ahead of us, we’ll head north and proceed to our targets.” McLanahan studied the display for a moment, then ceased his Mode-2 interrogations — even though the Mode-2 signals were encoded and transmitted in very short bursts, the enemy could still track an aircraft from them. “Looks like about half the Tomahawks are still with us.”

“Good,” Cobb said. “I’d just as soon let those puppies beat the bushes for us.”

The grease-board plotting technician drew a line from a frigate icon near the mouth of Davao Gulf to near the tiny village of Kiaponga. Out of all the other dots, circles, icons, and lines on the board, that one line commanded Admiral Yin’s attention. “What is that?” he asked.

“Sir, frigate Xiamen reports a weak UHF signal along this bearing,” the situation officer replied. “Several microburst transmissions. Computer projection calling it a possible aircraft, airspeed eight hundred kilometers per hour, heading northwest.”

Yin seemed to be transfixed by this fine. “Any primary radar target? Altitude readout?”

“No, sir.”

“Do they have an analysis of the signal itself?”

“Not yet, sir.”

Captain Sun was completely perplexed — a destroyer and a frigate were coming under attack, but Yin was wondering about a microburst radio transmission. “Sir, Jinan is under attack by antiship missiles again — he cannot hold out much longer. We must assist him. I recommend ordering him to withdraw to the west so we can provide surface-to-air missile coverage for him. And we should head farther to the northeast to provide similar coverage for Xiamen — he is tracking numerous Tomahawk cruise missiles heading in his direction as well as the B-52 bombers…”

“I want to know what that signal was, Captain.”

“Very well, sir,” Sun replied. “And as for Jinan and Xiamen… ?”

“Steer Hong Lung northeast to cover Davao Gulf as much as possible, but Jinan will hold its position,” Yin said with a hint of exasperation in his voice. “They have almost as much firepower as we do, and they have more escorts. I will not allow my ship commanders to start running all over the Celebes Sea at the first sign of trouble. I also want a report on our fighter coverage — I have not seen one fighter on that board since the first group of J-7s and Q-5s were engaged.”

A few moments later a new manual plotting technician took over on the vertical-plot greaseboard, and he began filling in icons for a group of fighters just west of Mount Apo. “Sir, fighter groups fourteen, with six total Jianjiji-7 fighters, and composite fighter-attack group two, with three Qiangjiji-5 fighters and three A-5K fighter-bombers, are thirty-seven kilometers west of Mount Apo,” Captain Sun reported. “They will be on station over Davao Gulf in three minutes.”

Yin slammed a fist down on the table before him and hissed, “That is not good enough! We’re supposed to have a hundred fighters available to us on this operation, and there are only twelve? I had better see two more groups airborne immediately. I want all available J-7 and Q-5 fighters airborne immediately to attack the inbound bombers…

“It will be done immediately, sir… but I must remind you that it leaves no Q-5 fighters available for close air support for our Marines,” Sun said. “The Q-5 and the A-5 are the only planes we have that can aerial refuel. Also, few of these aircraft are equipped for night combat…”

“We will have no Marines to provide close air support for if we do not stop these bombers!” Yin shouted. “Launch all available fighters now! And I want two fighters dispatched to search along the projected trackline of that microburst transmission. I want nothing to get past our defenses and strike our Marines… nothing!”

The updated NIRTSat data feed came in just as Cobb and McLanahan’s B-2 crossed the coastline south of Kiaponga. Cobb had reactivated the terrain-comparison COLA computer, and they were snaking just two hundred feet above the lush coastal hills and valleys of the Sarangani Peninsula of southern Mindanao. On his Super Multi Function Display, McLanahan could see the updated positions of three Tomahawk cruise missiles that were to go in ahead of his B-2 Black Knight bomber; the computer used the missile’s last reported heading and speed, along with a knowledge of the missile’s pre-programmed flight plan, to estimate the missile’s position. “We’ll be ready for a turn in about sixty seconds,” McLanahan told Cobb. The aircraft commander clicked his mike in response.