thirty-five thousand feet, this is patrol aircraft of the navy of the Russian Federation Southern Fleet on GUARD. You are on course to approach a Russian navy aircraft carrier task force. If you do not alter course, you will be intercepted, and if your identity or stores cannot be verified as peaceful, you will be forced to alter course. The use of deadly force is authorized and you may be fired on without warning. Respond on UHF GUARD frequency, please.”
“Our friends are calling,” Lieutenant Colonel Gia “Boxer” Cazzotto, aircraft commander of a U.S. Air Force EB-1C “Vampire” bomber, said on intercom. Beside her in the cockpit of the highly modified long-range strategic bomber was Major Alan “Frodo” Friel, the mission commander. Boxer was the commander of the 7th Air Expeditionary Squadron, a small bomber unit based at Air Force Plant 42 in Palmdale, California. Originally organized to flight-test refurbished B-1 bombers taken out of storage, the 7th AES-being one of only a handful of American heavy bomber squadrons still in existence-was occasionally tasked for real-world missions.
The EB-1C Vampire bomber was one example of a state-of-the-art refurbished design. To date, fifteen airframes had been taken out of flyable storage, modified, and upgraded to perform a dazzling array of missions, making it a true “flying battleship.” Although originally designed for four crewmembers, this EB-1C bomber was so computerized and automated that all attack and defensive functions could be performed by just two-or, operated as an unmanned attack aircraft, with none.
“All countermeasures in ‘PASSIVE’ mode, Boxer,” Frodo responded. Friel definitely resembled the character from whom his call sign was derived-he was much shorter than Cazzotto, with big round eyes, thick curly brown hair under his flight helmet, and light skin. All of the bomber’s defensive systems-electronic jammers, decoys, and active antimissile emitters-were not operating, only listening for threats. “He sounds pretty belligerent to me. I thought this was all worked out in advance? What’s that about?”
“Maybe it’s for practice, Frodo,” Boxer said.
“Fracture Two-One, this is Armstrong,” Major Jessica “Gonzo” Faulkner radioed via satellite from Armstrong Space Station.
“We’ve got two bandits at your twelve o’clock, one hundred miles, four-eight-zero knots, definitely heading your way.”
“Roger, Armstrong,” Boxer replied. “Nice to know you’re watching over us.”
“We might have spotty coverage here and there, but we’ll be watching as best we can until you’re back on the ground.”
“Thanks, guys.” She switched to the secondary channel and spoke: “Russian fleet patrol aircraft, this is Fracture Two-One on GUARD, we read you loud and clear. Over.”
“Fracture Two-One, switch to fleet reserved frequency two-two-nine-point-zero.”
“Switching,” Boxer replied. On the new frequency: “Two-One is up.”
“Fracture Two-One, squawk mode three-two-two-seven-one, mode C normal.” Frodo set in the new transponder codes. “I have you radar-identified, Fracture. Do not approach any Russian warships. Be advised, we will intercept you at this time for positive visual identification. Do not change altitude or airspeed. Over.”
“Fracture Two-One, roger.”
“I don’t understand why we’re doing these flights,” Frodo complained. “Just public relations?”
“I’m sure it started out as a real surveillance mission,” Boxer replied, “but then someone got nervous that there might be another accident, like the Bush-carrier episode, so the diplomats huddled and changed the rules of engagement. Now it’s just pictures and a flyby.”
“We can’t do anything anyway,” Frodo said. “All we’re carrying are the AMRAAMs.” The forward bomb bay carried a rotary launcher fitted with eight AIM-120 AMRAAM radar-guided air-to-air missiles; in addition, the aft bomb bay carried a three-thousand-gallon auxiliary fuel tank. “Ever do an intercept with the Russians?” Frodo asked.
“Just at ‘Red Flag’ and other exercises,” Boxer said, “and never with a Sukhoi-33, although it’s similar to the Su-27, which I have played with before. This is the first time the Russians have put together a carrier battle group of this size. But these things are usually not big deals. It’s all been cleared diplomatically.”
“Diplomatically?”
“Legally we can fly near their ships out in the open seas, and they can intercept us in international airspace,” Boxer said. “But no one wants something to happen like what happened with the carrier Bush, so some diplomat sends an e-mail or fax to his counterpart in Moscow and gives them a heads-up. Everyone plays nice. We don’t do anything stupid or sudden to get anybody spooked. Let’s get a LADAR snapshot and see who we got.”
“Roger.” Frodo activated the Vampire’s LADAR, or laser radar, which “drew” a high-resolution picture of everything within four hundred miles on the ground, on the ocean’s surface, in space, and even several dozen feet underwater. The LADAR was on for only a few seconds, then set back in “STANDBY.” “And the winner is: a pair of Sukhoi-33 Flanker-Ds,” Frodo reported. “Closing at four hundred eighty knots, about eighty-five miles away. The carrier group is at two hundred sixty miles.”
“Armstrong, this is Fracture, we’re tied on,” Boxer reported.
“Roger,” Gonzo replied, “we’ve got a good datalink. We’re looking for any trailers, negative contact so far.”
“Thanks, Armstrong.” Boxer pulled back the throttles and set a speed of 360 knots-slower airspeeds made any aircraft less threatening. “I’ll wake up home plate,” she said to Frodo. She made sure her communications panel was set up, then spoke: “Control, Fracture Two-One, bandits, tied on.”
“Two-One, roger, stand by,” the air-component commander at Central Command headquarters at MacDill Air Force Base, Florida, responded via satellite. The commanders at Central Command could receive all sensor data from almost all sources in its entire theater of command, so they could see what Boxer and Frodo saw on their large multifunction cockpit displays. In addition, they could tap into any other data source anywhere in the region, whether from ships, other aircraft, or on land, and put it all together in a big tactical picture. “Fracture Two-One, proceed as briefed,” the air commander radioed a few moments later.
“Two-One copies.” Boxer shrugged. “Sheesh, no pep talk, no ‘go get ’em, guys,’ no enthusiasm? ‘Proceed as briefed’?”
“What do you expect? He’s ten thousand miles away in a nice comfy command center.”
ABOARD THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION NAVY AIRCRAFT CARRIER VLADIMIR VLADIMIROVICH PUTIN
THAT SAME TIME
“Aircraft is slowing to six hundred seventy kilometers per hour, Captain,” the radar technician reported. “Still at ten thousand meters.”
“Very long-range, very high, very big plane, too fast for an unmanned patrol plane-it has to be an American bomber,” the tactical action officer said. He and the rest of the battle management team was in the Combat Information Center aboard the Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin, steaming westward toward Aden, Yemen, in the Gulf of Aden. The Combat Information Center was filled with computer monitors; a team of fifteen enlisted and two officers manned the Putin’s radars and optical sensors and controlled the ship’s weapons. “The fighters should intercept in a few minutes.”
“I’ll notify the admiral,” the commanding officer of the Putin said. He picked up the “Red Phone,” which tied directly to the flag bridge. “Inbound patrol plane from the east, Admiral. We will intercept in a few minutes. Probably an American long-range bomber.”
“Not one of their Global Hawks, Captain?” the admiral asked.
“We will have visual identification shortly, sir. It appears to be traveling faster and at a lower altitude than the Global Hawks, and faster than a naval patrol plane.”
“Very well. Let me know if they do anything unusual. All defensive systems ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well. Carry on.”
“Yes, sir.” The captain hung up the phone. “I am surprised they can spare any bombers to harass us,” he said. “Gryzlov blew most of them into hell, and Gardner canceled the American Next Generation Bomber program in favor of more carriers. Yet here they are.”
“Standard procedures, sir?”
“Yes, standard procedures,” the captain said. “Radar silent, passive sensors only, plenty of videotape so we
