anyone stupid enough to allow themselves to be steered around by surface threats. Two of the frigates, Yingtan stationed on the southern perimeter and Xiamen on the northern side, were armed with short-range Hong Qian-6 I surfaceto-air missiles-deadly within their limited range-but his destroyer Jinan, in the center of the two-hundred- kilometerlong gauntlet, had the HQ-9I surface-to-air missile system, a licensed copy of the French Masurca medium-range SAM system. The HQ-9 1 was deadly out to forty-five kilometers even to low-flying supersonic aircraft-this B-52 would be an easy kill. Jinan had already seen action-it was that ship that had successfully guided the fighters in on the arrogant American Navy fighters over the Celebes Sea not too long ago. The little patrol boats were deadly as well-their guns could knock down any antiship missile in the American inventory and throw up a cloud of lead in front of any aircraft stupid enough to stray within a few kilometers of them. But even the B-52s could carry a big punch. “Radio to all attack-group ships and to Task Force Master, we are under attack, request air support against incoming B-52 bombers, ” Jhijun said. Obviously Harpoon antiship missiles, he thought. They were lucky-they did not start their attack until they had a radar fix on Yingtan. That meant the Americans had no other radar aircraft in the area spotting targets for the B-52s. Jhijun checked the plot board. The B-52s will be coming within range ofjinan ‘s radars in a few minutes-if they survived that longand the longer-range HQ-91 missiles would not miss. But Jh jun fully expected the B-52s to turn tail and run after all thei1r Harpoon missiles were expended. “Patrol boat 682 engaging antiship missiles. . patrol boat 688 engaging missiles… Yingtan now reporting six incoming aircraft, all from the south, range to closest aircraft twenty nautical miles. Same flight profile, reported as B-52 bombers on low-level antiship attack.” The reports began coming in as one by one the Harpoon missiles were destroyed. “First B-52 turning west, appears to be disengaging.”
“Lost contact with patrol boat 642, sir, ” the combat information center officer onjinan reported. “Patrol boat 688 reports two vessels afire, suspect the other as patrol boat 651. Frigate Yingtan reports minor damage from antiship missile, but is still under way and combat capable.” With six B-52s on the loose, each with the capacity to carry twelve Harpoon missiles, they had to expect some attrition. “Second B-52 disengaging So the B-52s were going to be content with launching a few Harpoon missiles and fleeing. The fighters would be able to mop them up then, Jhijun thought-they still had to contend with the Harpoon missiles and Tomahawk cruise missiles, though. … This was incredible, the Chinese pilot of the JS-7 fighter thought-one moment he was leading an eight-ship attack group on a routine night patrol, the next moment he was alone and under attack by an unseen, unidentified foe. “Fayling, Fayling, ” the pilot radioed to the destroyer Kaifeng~ which was controlling the intercept in this sector, where is the target? I need a vector.”
“Liang flight, target is in a rapid descent at your eight o’clock position, thirty kilometers, altitude four thousand meters, ” the radar controller reported-apparently he was too excited to remember that the other J-7 fighter had been destroyed. “Turn left heading two-niner-five and descend to three thousand meters to intercept.” Four thousand meters? Less than sixty seconds ago he was at ten thousand meters! The JS-7 pilot threw his fighter into a steep left turn and pushed the nose down, using his airbrakes judiciously to avoid ripping his PL-7 and PL-2 missiles from their pylons. “Liang, your target is at your eleven to twelve o’clock, twenty-seven kilometers.” He was getting heavy jamming, but his French-made radar was sophisticated enough to frequencyhop and avoid most of it. “Intermittent contact, ” the JS-7 pilot reported. The lock-on was good enough for a radar range and firing solution, so he quickly selected a PL-7 radar-guided missile. “Liang shooting radar one… He waited a few seconds, then fired his second one. “Shooting radar two… Atkins was so sure the fighter back there was going to take a shot that he found himself staring at the threat-indicator light. As soon as it illuminated, he shouted, “Missile launch! Level off!” He found himself crushed into his seat by G-forces as Carter pulled the B-52 out of its high-banked dive, the fuselage and wings creaking so loudly from the stress that it seemed they would shatter like a crystal champagne glass. “Break left!” Atkins shouted on interphone as he ejected chaff out the right ejector racks. Carter heeled the EB-52 Megafortress hard left, so hard that Atkins’ helmet banged against his left instrument panel-but he kept his finger on the chaff button long enough to create a good-sized cloud. Carter shoved the Megafortress’s nose down below the horizon to regain his airspeed, and the negative-Gs he created caused dirt, loose checklists and papers, and all sorts of unrecognizable garbage to float around the cabin as if they were suddenly weightless in orbit. Atkins felt his stomach go up with the floating junk, and he ripped off his oxygen mask to keep from filling it up with vomit. “You OK, E-dub?” Karbayjal said. Atkins turned and saw his gunner with a worried expression on his face and one hand on his shoulder. The plane was in a gut-wrenching turn, they were under attack by a Chinese fighter-but Karbayjal was worried about him. “Sure . ‘ . sure . . . Atkins moaned. “Good, ” Karbayjal said. He settled himself back into his seat as calmly and as easily as could be, as if being tossed around and squished by four times Earth’s gravity were a normal occurrence for him. “You’re doing good, E-dub, ” Karbayjal added. “Keep it up and let’s get that sucker. Set up your jammers and take care of the uplink.” Atkins struggled to refocus his eyes on his threat display. His automatic jamming system picked out the best frequency range and applied it to the correct antennae for the threat-in this case, an X3-band uplink signal driven to the tail antennae-and it would pump out chaff as well, but it would not tell the pilot when or in what direction to turn to avoid the missile. Tracked on the tail radar, the Chinese missile appeared to be wavering from the chaff to the EB-52, not entirely fooled. This close-in, the missile might lock onto the Megafortress if they made another turn. “Pilot, roll out!” Atkins called out. “Guns, stand by with Stingers!” Karbayjal smiled at Atkins-he was finally taking charge of this intercept. “Roger, E-dub.” Karbayjal already had a good lock on the incoming Chinese missiles and was waiting for them to close in. It was a risky move-hoping that the Megafortress’s low radar cross-section would defeat the missiles more than maneuvering would. They needed to build up a new speed reserve as well, since even the Megafortress bled off a lot of airspeed in tight turns. But thejammers weren’t completely shutting down the Chinese fighter’s uplink-the missiles were still tracking. “Missiles still coming!” Atkins shouted on the interphone. “I’m ready with Stingers, ” Karbayjal told him, “but you gotta do it. My Stingers are strictly last resort . . .” Atkins took another calculated risk-as he began pumping out chaff once more from the left ejectors, he overrode the automatic jammers and reduced the transmitter power in half, letting a strong fighter fire control lock on the bleedthrough, then shouted, “Pilot, break right!” The missiles continued to bore in. . Now there were three radar targets out there, the Chinese JS-7 pilot cursed. The first was obviously a chaff cloud-it had begun to dissipate very quickly, and his PL-7 missiles weren’t fooled. His radar seemed to get a firm lock-on just then on the real target, but it turned out it was a firm lock on another chaff cloud. The target was scooting right at nearly a thousand kilometers an hour, while the big, bright, original target was dead ahead-at zero kilometers per hour. Obviously a chaff cloudand his missiles were both going for it. A clean miss. “Fayling, Liang, where is Sichuan-Ten flight? I have no radar missiles left.”
“Liang, Sichuan-Ten flight has been separated into two flights of two, high patrol diverting north to intercept air targets under control by destroyer Zunyi. Your helpers will be designated Sichuan-3 I flight of two, now at ten thousand meters, range two-one-five bull’s-eye.”
“What about the rest of my Liang-Two flight?”
“Liang-Two homebound are still at twelve thousand meters, northwest-bound.”
“Are you crazy?” the JS-7 pilot shouted. “Turn those bastards around! Liang-Two flight of six, reverse course, descend to three thousand meters, prepare to engage!” There was a scratchy reply on the radio-they heard him, although they probably wished they did not. If they turned around, there was no chance they’d land back at Zamboangabut ditching in the Celebes Sea or landing at Cotabato was better than allowing this B-52 or whatever it was to head in toward the fleet unopposed. He had one more chance before he had to return to basethrottles to max afterburner, close in fast, two PL-2 heat-seeking missile shots, a gun pass with his 23-millimeter cannon, then abort. The JS-7 pilot pushed his throttle to max afterburner, watched the range quickly decrease to less than fifteen kilometers, got a seeker lock-on from his two remaining PL-2 missiles, then launched them both at once. … “Bandit at six o’clock, crew, descending behind us, ” Karbayjal called out, carefully watching the Chinese fighter on his tail radar. The Chinese fighter was sending out jamming signals, but at this range even the Megafortress’s smaller tail radar burned through it easily. “Bandit’s accelerating… Jesus, stand by for missile attack . . . E-dub, stand by for flares on the right The infrared tail warning receiver’s “Missile Warning” light in all crew stations, which detected the heat of a fighter in the rear quadrant and locked onto it, was immediately replaced by a high-pitched tone in everyone’s headset and a “Missile Launch” warning light. “IR missile attack!” Atkins shouted. “Break left!” Atkins immediately released four bundles of flares simultaneously from the right ejector. But Karbayjal had seen the missile launch and was ready. Careful not to aim the Stinger airmine rockets at the flares, he waited until the missiles tracked, then ejected the flares and re-acquired the Megafortress’s hot engine exhausts, then opened fire with a stream of missiles. He launched six Stingers, then watched for any sign of pursuit. When he saw at least one Chinese missile survive, he shouted on interphone, “Reverse! Climb if possible!” When Karbayjal made his call, Atkins had switched ejector racks, selecting the left ejector, and pumped out four more flares. Simultaneously,
