“Hydra flight, this is Armstrong,” a different, more urgent male voice from the space station cut in. “We got a better-angle look at his weapons, and we think they’re AS-17s, repeat, AS-17s.” The Russian-made AS-17 was one of the most feared air-to-surface weapons in the world, carrying a large high-explosive or small nuclear warhead over one hundred miles at speeds in excess of Mach 3. “I recommend you launch your alert fighters in case this guy is hostile.”
“Tallyho, Timber,” the wingman radioed. “Eleven o’clock on the horizon.”
“Tally,” the leader responded after spotting the target a moment later. “Armstrong, we’re tied on visual, we’ll take it from here, okay?” His voice was a little more irritable than he wanted, but this close to a Chinese fighter so far from the ship made things more and more tense, and the unfamiliar voices coming from space weren’t helping to make the tactical picture any clearer.
The bogey was a tiny light dot in the distance, about three miles away. The lead pilot took a quick glance out the starboard side to be sure where his wingman was-high and to his right, able to watch the bogey, his leader, his radar, and his instruments without having to concentrate on formation flying-then began a slow turn as the Chinese aircraft began to pass off his left. The Chinese fighter’s radar remained locked onto them the whole way, even from behind-that had to be sophisticated fire control radar to remain locked on even directly astern. That got the lead Hornet’s blood pumping even faster, and he kept the power up to quicken the intercept.
It was the first time either American had seen a Sukhoi-34 fighter, one of the newest and most high-tech combat aircraft in the world. It was a big aircraft, larger than an American F-15 Eagle or F-14 Tomcat-much larger than the Hornet-with twin vertical tails and a large cockpit area with a large bulge behind the canopy. It was painted in light blue gray, making it hard to see against the sky or the sea, with large bright red numerals on the side below the cockpit and a red star with red stripes on either side on the aft fuselage-definitely Chinese naval aircraft markings. The aircraft had canard foreplanes just below and behind the cockpit, and the Hornet leader could see cooling vents around what appeared to be a very large-caliber cannon muzzle on the right side. “I’ll be damned-it sure is a friggin’ Russian Sukhoi-34 Fullback,” the lead pilot exclaimed. “I’m pretty sure that’s what it is. But it’s in Chinese colors. And it’s carrying those two big honkin’ missiles. I’m moving in for a closer look.”
The closer the leader maneuvered his Super Hornet to the Chinese plane, the more shocked he became. “Lego, he’s got freaky huge missiles under the wings,” he radioed to his wingman. “They have to be twenty feet long and weigh three tons each. One under each wing. No other weapons visible.”
“If he’s got antiship missiles, he’s outta here.”
“Roger that.” On the secondary radio he said, “Yu One-Four, this is Hydra flight, you are carrying unidentified weapons that appear to be offensive long-range antiship missiles. You are not permitted to fly within two hundred miles of any United States warship with such weapons. You are instructed to reverse course and depart the area. Acknowledge.”
“American interceptors, you may not interfere with any peaceful flight over international waters,” the Chinese pilot radioed. The friendly tone was completely nonexistent now. “Terminate your dangerous close flying immediately and leave us alone.”
“Lego, get on the horn to ‘home plate,’ confirm they are listening in, and ask for instructions,” the lead pilot radioed.
“Two.”
On the secondary channel the Hornet pilot said, “Chinese warplane Yu One-Four, this is Hydra One-Two-One flight, U.S. Navy, on GUARD, this is an air defense warning in the clear, you are carrying two suspected offensive antiship missiles and are headed directly for U.S. warships in international waters.” This description was for the benefit of his own ship’s cockpit voice recorders, for the recorders aboard the Hawkeye radar plane, as well as for recordings made by any other nearby ships who were certainly listening in. “I am ordering you to reverse course immediately or you may be fired on without further warning. Comply immediately. This is your final warning.”
“CAG says two hundred is the brick wall, Timber,” the wingman reported. “Based on your description, intel says he might be carrying AS-17 Kryptons. That checks with what Armstrong told us.”
“I dunno-they look bigger than Kryptons,” the lead pilot responded. The AS-17 had been used by the Russians against targets in the United States during their attacks in 2004, and the whole world was now well familiar with those deadly weapons, as well as with the other supersonic and hypersonic weapons in the Russian arsenal.
“The Ready-Five is airborne,” the wingman added.
“Rog. Okay, we’ll climb the ladder as usual and see what he does. Light him up.”
“Two.” The wingman selected his “MASTER ARM” switch from “SAFE” to “ARM” and selected an AIM-120 missile. With the Chinese aircraft designated as the target, the fire control computer changed the pulse-rate frequency of the radar signal for target tracking, which would show up on most radar-threat warning receivers as a locked-on warning. No reaction from the Chinese jet.
“Two-fifty,” the wingman reminded his leader.
“Rog. I’m moving to his left side.” The lead Hornet quickly climbed and slid over the Chinese plane’s canopy and flew beside the plane close enough to see the rank patches on the Chinese pilot’s flight suit. The pilot continued looking straight ahead, but the Hornet leader could see the weapons officer staring back at him cross-cockpit, occasionally making some kind of gestures.
“You giving me the finger, buddy? Here’s my reply.” The Hornet pilot armed his weapons, selected the twenty-millimeter cannon, and fired a one-second burst. The Chinese pilot made a brief glance at the Hornet but then looked straight ahead again. The weapons officer stopped gesturing and seemed frozen in surprise. “Are you getting the picture yet, boys?” the Hornet pilot said. But the JH-37 did not alter course. “Okay, we’ll try-”
And at that instant the lead Hornet pilot saw a brief burst of heavy machine-gun fire from the right-side cannon, the reverberations of that cannon fire rumbling through space and easily felt in the Hornet. “Bastard fired his cannon!” the leader reported. “Felt like a thirty-mike.” He didn’t need a reminder to stay away from the Chinese fighter’s nose, but he got one anyway.
“Five minutes, Timber,” the wingman said. “How ’bout I buzz him?”
“I don’t want you within range of that cannon. It’s gotta be a thirty-millimeter.”
“Then how about I do a handstand on his ass?”
The leader thought about it for a moment, then said, “Okay, c’mon in.”
The wingman shut down the radar lock, moved his weapons switch back to “SAFE,” then descended and closed in on the Chinese fighter. The leader moved away from the fighter. “Little more…little more…down a touch…” the leader said, directing his wingman closer until he was directly above and slightly ahead of the Chinese attack plane. “Okay, Lego, hit ’em.”
The wingman abruptly raised his nose almost to vertical and fed in full afterburner power, directing his jet blast directly down on the Chinese fighter from just a few yards away. That did the trick. The JH-37 looked as if it had completely stopped flying, and it started a drastic wobbly descent.
“How does that feel, bitch?” For a moment the Hornet leader was afraid the JH-37 wasn’t going to recover, but after nearly flat-spinning and descending a couple thousand feet or so, it finally stabilized. It was off-heading perhaps twenty degrees, but its course was still aimed in the direction of the USS Bush. “Lego, c’mon back around, radio home plate that the bandit is still heading in and request permission to shoot.”
“Two.”
The Hornet leader descended slightly and slowed to keep the JH-37 in sight. It was now about thirty degrees offset, but it definitely wasn’t reversing course. “Don’t make me spank you, buddy,” the Hornet leader said to himself. “Bring it around or I’ll-”
And at that instant his jaw dropped open, his eyes bulged, and his mouth turned instantly dry…because the large missile on the JH-37’s left wing dropped into space, the engine ignited with a tremendous tongue of yellow fire, and it shot ahead with a massive glob of fire and a trail of white smoke. Seconds later, the second antiship missile dropped free and launched as well!
“Holy shit…home plate, home plate, Hydra One-Two-One, Vampire, Vampire, Vampire!” he shouted on the number one radio, using the brevity code “vampire” for launch of an enemy antiship missile. “Two Vampires in the air! Lego, I’m clearing to the east and high, nail this bastard!”
“Two cleared in hot…fox two!” Seconds later, the AIM-9 Sidewinder missile hit the Chinese fighter, sending it out of control and spinning into the South China Sea.
“Scramble, scramble, scramble, ASM launch detected, scramble, scramble, scramble!” blared the loudspeakers
