Sky Masters полностью

“The Shuihong-5 might survive the landing,” Yin muttered. “Send Wenshan and Xingyi to investigate. Be sure they maintain data link with us at all times.” Wenshan had an excellent surface and air search capability, along with the ability to transmit radar data to Hong Lung; it would act as radar warning vessel until Yin decided what to do. Xingyi carried six C801 antiship missiles that could be targeted by Wenshan's fire-control system. He had a decision to make.

He had two choices left. His first option: run and regroup. Yin doubted that the Philippine vessels would follow him back to the Spratly Islands — they had only one PF-class frigate and a small LF-class patrol boat nearby, with two other major ships damaged or destroyed. Even though they were only fifty kilometers from shore and there were already Philippine aircraft in the area, he believed that the fight was over. Both sides had taken their tolls, got in a few good hits, and now they were disengaged.

The second option: stay and fight. Yin could press the attack by moving closer to get within radar range of the Philippine vessels and launch another missile or gun attack. He had finally scored a big hit on the Philippine frigate Rajah Humabon with the last of his Fei Lung-7 missiles, so he was out of antiship missiles except for the Fei Lung-9 missiles. Again, unbidden, the thought of using those weapons entered his mind, and he immediately quashed the idea. But he still had a sizable force in position: two Huangfen- class fast attack missile boats, four Hegu-class patrol boats, two Hainan-class patrol boats, and a minesweeper. His Huangfen-class ships carried a full complement of Fei Lung-7 and C801 antiship missiles, and all of his ships had dual-purpose guns to use if he moved into knife-fighting range. His flotilla still had a lot of fight left in it.

But Yin’s battle group had been hit hard by the upstart

Philippine raiders — one minesweeper, one attack boat, the fast attack missile boat Chagda, and the Shuihong-5 patrol plane. In exchange they got one frigate and a patrol boat. A very poor performance for the world’s largest navy versus a virtually nonexistent navy…

“What are your orders, Admiral?” Captain Lubu asked him. “Once Wenshan and Xingyi get into position to assist the Shuihong-5 crew and reconnoiter the area, what will we do?”

Yin looked at Lubu, then at the other crew members on Hong Lung's bridge. He did not see much fight in their faces. What he saw was fear — plain old fear. Should he take these youngsters into combat again? Should he decimate the Philippine Navy with guns and missiles, risking the safety of his already hard-hit fleet for a hollow victory?

“Withdraw,” Yin heard himself say in a low, tired voice. “Twenty knots, then twenty-five as soon as the fleet is reformed. Maintain contact with Wenshan and Xingyi, but plot a course out of this shallow water and prepare—”

“Radar contact aircraft!” Lubu suddenly shouted, relaying reports via headset from Hong Lung's Combat Information Center. “Bearing zero-three-zero, turning toward us, range fifteen kilometers and closing! Radar now reports two aircraft in formation, altitude one thousand meters, airspeed four-eight-zero. Combat estimates aircraft on missile-launch profile!”

He was quickly running out of options now. A severely damaged fleet, a dangerous depletion of long-range antiship weapons, shoal waters all around them, and now armed Philippine aircraft nearby with the threat of more just over the horizon. They could withdraw, back to the relative safety of the Spratly Islands, but they would have to fight their way out.

“Signal to all ships: release all antiair batteries,” Yin ordered. “Protect yourselves at all cost.”

“Close it up, Two, close it up,” Tamalko shouted to Borillo on interplane frequency as he watched the second F-4E slowly drift in and out off* his right wing. “Don’t get sloppy on me now.”

Tamalko was maneuvering back to the lead position. They had climbed back to a safe altitude of three thousand feet, executing circles over the area where the unidentified plane appeared to have gone down. Borillo was so erratic that Tamalko’s backseater frequently lost sight of him. It was some of the worst formation flying he had ever seen. The short air battle had really rattled the kid.

Tamalko was ready to send the kid home, or perhaps even put him in the lead and tell him where to go, but he needed the word from Headquarters first before anything else. In between yelling at Bonllo to stay in close to avoid going lost wingman, Tamalko was on the UHF radio to Puerto Princesa, trying to set up a relay from Palawan to the Philippine Air Force headquarters at Cavite, near Manila. It was not going well.