Deaken checked his status board, calling up the ship class and checking the data readout. “Looks to be a box of SA-N-4 Geckos, sir. Range under ten miles and a ceiling under Angels forty. Good warhead, 16kgs with a five meter frag radius. But they won’t be bothering our air wing with those, sir. That’s just missile bait.”
“Pretty damn thin cover for the Russkie’s only CV. No wonder they sortied with that surface action group.”
“Aye, sir.”
“What should we be worried about here, Deke?”
“Those damn S-300s on Kirov, sir. 150 kilometer range and fast as greased lightning.”
“Damn annoying,” said Tanner. “Our Harpoons can range out that far over the horizon, but S-300s can be on them in no time.”
Neither Deke nor Tanner knew anything about the missile upgrade Kirov had received before sailing from the Golden Horn Harbor. Her forward silos now harbored the more advanced S-400F Triumf system, extending that engagement range even farther to 400 kilometers.
“They can, indeed, sir. And don’t even think about the Tomahawks. Too damn slow. They pulled TASM from ship inventories long ago, and good riddance. Thing is, the Russians make some pretty mean SSMs. This new Sunburn — II is a real threat, and their Starfires are even faster.”
Tanner turned to his radar man. “Bougie, how far out is that SAG centered on Kirov?”
“Feed from Misawa has ‘em at about 800 nautical miles now sir. Hawkeye confirms… Hello?… What’s up here?” Ensign Bogue was poking at his SATCOMM link panel. “Sir, I just lost data link on our GPS Satellite. Checking it now, but I’m completely red on that link, sir. I don’t think it’s a local system failure.”
Tanner didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit. “Someone taking pot shots at our satellites?”
“I’ll check SIGINT traffic. Nothing on my board, sir…Wait a second. Coming in now, sir. Confirmed ASAT strike at zero nine forty. Red Arrows.”
Tanner set his jaw, resigned to the fact that he was going to have to take some rather direct action now, and very soon. “That makes this thing hot for us as well as the Japanese,” he said. “Well that’s all I was waiting on, gentlemen. We’re not sitting on 104,000 long tons of steel out here to get a suntan. Get the Air Boss on the line and have him spot the Royal Maces ASAP. Diamondbacks on deck with the Dambusters in the number three hole. Eagles batting cleanup.”
“Aye sir, spot for strike, sir, Maces and Snakes leading off.”
Strike Fighter Squadron 27, the Royal Maces, were still flying F/A 18E Super Hornets, but the plane was more than capable with new avionics and added stealth features over the years, even though it was schedule for replacement by the F-35s. The squadron had been flying since 1967, with A-7 Corsairs over the skies of Vietnam. They fought all through the 1970s in Nam, provided top cover for the Iran hostage rescue attempt in 1980, then received their first Hornets in 1991 in time for the first Gulf War. Twenty years ago they were in action over Afghanistan after 9/11and the Second Gulf War. One thing the US Navy had was experience, with more raw combat hours logged than every other navy on earth combined.
As Tanner was thinking the situation over Ensign Bogue suddenly had another surprised look on his face. “Sir, I have a radio message hail from the Russians. Right in the clear!”
“What is this a phone call from Moscow?”
“No sir. It’s that Surface Action Group up north. I’ve got their CO on the line. Their Comm Officer is translating to English.”
Tanner raised his eyebrows. “Well I’ll be damned.”
Chapter 36
Nikolin translated as best he could. “Good morning, Captain. How can I assist you?” He was conveying the American Captain’s words, and looked at Karpov, waiting for his response.”
“Tell him we have one of those interesting situations here that we seem to have been rehearsing for the last eighty years. I just want to be sure he’s memorized his lines.” Nikolin translated, smiling.
“Oh, we know our part well enough, Captain. Just can’t figure why you’re out here spoiling the show.”
Nikolin was very good, and the conversation moved seamlessly on, though it seemed to Rodenko and the other members of the Bridge crew that Karpov was having his talk with Nikolin himself, and some of the things that came out of his mouth as he translated what the Americans said made them laugh. The Captain had a smile himself, realizing that there would be a little dance of words at the outset and he jousted verbally with his counterpart in the American battlegroup to the south.
“Of course,” said Karpov. “You are all too fond of thinking you are the hero on stage. But I have a surprise for you, Captain. A phantom has come to the opera this morning, and I’m standing on its bridge.” A little chest thumping was always par for the course in these exchanges. Karpov expected it from the Americans, so he thought he would get the first missile on its way at the outset.
Nikolin listened, his eyes bright under his headphone set. “Is that so?” he translated. “You and those four old Udaloy’s you’re towing? You dragging them out for some more target practice? Going to try and pull another disappearing act like you did in the Atlantic?”
“Did you miss us?” Karpov smiled, ignoring the insults, as did most of the bridge crew. “We hurried back as soon as we could get here. Thanks for the escort home. I hope the officers aboard Key West enjoyed their cigars.”
More laughter, but Nikolin was listening intently now. He looked at Karpov, thumbing his microphone off to whisper a message. “He sounds more serious now, sir. I think he’s getting down to business.” A moment later he translated.
“Look, Captain. I’m standing on over a hundred thousand tons of might and muscle out here, and have a look east. We’ve got more for you, stage right. This is the United States Navy speaking now, and I am its duly authorized ambassador at the moment. So get the message: You and your fleet can sail around all you want up there in the Sea of Okhotsk. Go on up and pay a visit to Kamchatka. I hear the weather is nice up there this time of year. But you come out here on the deep blue and it’s my watch, understand?”
Karpov expected this. The Americans had patrolled the deep water oceans, particularly here in the Pacific, since their decisive victory in WWII. He thought it ironic that Kirov had been instrumental in winnowing down the odds for the American carriers when they faced the superior forces of Yamamoto’s fleet, just weeks ago in his own mind, though now it was old history to this new adversary he faced.
“Yes, you Americans are the world’s policeman, I forgot. Well I’m afraid the rest of the world was never quite comfortable with that arrangement, Captain Tanner. Your policy was too often one where might made right, but you are not the only nation with determined men in ships of war. On the sea the boldest steer, and I’m one of them. So is this ship. I don’t need an invitation to sail these waters. The Red Banner Pacific Fleet goes where it pleases.”
“That so? Is that what you call it these days? Where are you headed, Captain? You figure to weigh in with the Chinese in this scrap over Taiwan?”
“Have you heard of SinoPac, Mister Tanner? You know very well that we are compelled by agreements and alliances signed by the Russian nation.”
“As are we, Mister Karpov.” The American had used his name for the first time. “The United States has pledged itself in defense of the sovereign nations of both Japan and Taiwan. But we won’t sort that business out here, will we?”
“I suppose not,” said Karpov. “We’re just here to let you know the Chinese won’t be in this alone. You ought to think carefully about your next move, Captain. Very carefully.”
“Damn if that doesn’t sound threatening…” Nikolin paused. “He’s being sarcastic, sir,” he whispered, then continued translating. “Look, Karpov. We can’t sort out the diplomacy. I leave that to the men in suits and just follow orders. It’s ours to determine what happens in the water between your ship and mine. You Russkies used to love to bump gunwales with us in your day, but that time has passed. Your ships have been rusting away in your harbors for the last twenty years.”
“That’s a pretty old lady you’re riding, Captain. Same goes for your buddy out east on the Nimitz.
