Plan of Attack

were small commando teams outfitted with electronic battle armor, sophisticated sensor systems, and high-tech infantry weapons. They could move quietly, survive in extremely hostile situations, and reconnoiter large areas far behind enemy lines very quickly. Naturally, the Russians didn’t want them anywhere near their troops. They convinced the United Nations Security Council that the Tin Men were nothing but search-and-destroy squads, not a monitoring team, and so were forbidden to enter the theater of operations at all.

“I think it might be time to take a look,” Daren said. “Eighth Air Force might squawk if we launch a StealthHawk, but if we move the Vampire bomber in for a closer look…”

“Do it,” Patrick said.

Daren smiled and pulled his headset microphone closer to his lips, issuing orders to the technicians in the “virtual cockpit” behind him in the Battle Mountain Battle Management Center. The QB-1C Vampire III bomber normally operated under a preprogrammed flight plan written and uploaded on the ground, which commanded the bomber to patrol a certain area for a certain amount of time, then return for refueling or landing. But it took only moments for the technicians in the ground-based “cockpit” of the big bomber to change the flight plan and radio it to the bomber via secure satellite transmission.

Moments later Patrick and Daren watched as the unmanned Vampire bomber began moving farther and farther north. It took almost thirty minutes to change the patrol orbit a hundred miles north. “Laser radar transmitting…LADAR identifies the vehicles as transports. No SA-12s.”

“Get it in closer,” Patrick said. “I want a detailed identification.”

“Roger.” Daren issued more orders, and they watched as the Vampire bomber moved even closer to the suspect vehicles — now within twenty miles of the unidentified “transports.” “LADAR now classifying some of the vehicles as transporter-erector-launchers,” Daren reported. “We might have something here. What next, General? You want one of the StealthHawks to make a pass now?”

“Not quite yet,” Patrick responded. He thought for a moment, then, “Open the bomb doors.”

“That should get their attention,” Daren said. Into his microphone he ordered, “Send to Bobcat Zero-seven: open center bomb-bay doors. Do not launch UCAVs. Repeat, do not launch UCAVs.”

The QB-1C Vampire III bomber had the radar cross-section smaller than a bird — until one of its three sets of bomb-bay doors were opened. Once that happened, its radar size increased a thousandfold. Radar energy bounced and reflected inside the bomb bay, making the bomber’s apparent size on radar jump exponentially. Seconds after Daren issued the order, they heard a computer voice in their headsets: “Warning, threat radar, SA-12, eleven o’clock, twenty-two miles, surveillance scan…warning, datalink active, SA-12, eleven o’clock, twenty-one miles.”

“There it is,” Daren remarked. “You were right, sir — they have another SA-12 system farther north. And it’s a lot closer to Mary. They have full radar and antiaircraft-missile coverage of the city now.” He hit his intercom button. “Bobcat Zero-seven, close bomb doors, activate all defensive countermeasures, and get out of there fast.” He knew that the flight-control techs would simply take manual control of the Vampire and fly it directly away from the SA-12, while at the same time reprogramming the flight plan for a low- level evasive dash. “What do you want to do with the SA-12 batteries, General?”

“Kill them, Colonel,” Patrick said simply, punching up the datalink code for Eighth Air Force headquarters again. “It’s an unidentified hostile threat that is not authorized by United Nations resolution. Destroy it. Command vehicle first, then the radars, and then the missiles. I’ll notify Eighth Air Force of our actions.”

“Yes, sir,” Daren responded enthusiastically. On the secure command link, he ordered, “Bobcat Zero-seven, this is Bobcat. Designate the SA-12 contacts as hostiles and attack. Repeat, designate all SA-12 contacts as hostile and attack. We think they rolled an entire brigade into the area. If they did, I want them all found, and I want them to die soonest. Order of target priority: command-post vehicle, missile- control radars, scanning radars, and launchers.” The Vampire flight technicians acknowledged the order and hurriedly reprogrammed both the Vampire and its StealthHawks for the attack.

The Vampire began a fast turn to the east and a rapid descent. The tactical display showed the lethal-range ring of the SA-12 system — as the Vampire descended, the ring was getting smaller, but the bomber was still well within kill range. The display suddenly showed the Vampire’s rate of descent slowing dramatically. Daren was about to ask why when he realized that Bobcat Zero-seven had to almost level off to launch its StealthHawks — the UCAVs could not safely leave the center bomb bay with the bomber in a steep descent. “First StealthHawk away…”

“Hurry, damn it, hurry,” Patrick breathed.

“Warning, SA-12 missile guidance radar, six o’clock, thirty miles,” the computer blared. “Warning, missile launch…warning, second missile launch!”

“Second StealthHawk away…” Moments later the icon representing Bobcat Zero-seven disappeared. “Lost contact with Bobcat Zero-seven,” the flight-control tech reported. “Looks like both SA-12 missiles hit dead on.”

Daren Mace slammed a fist into a palm and swore loudly. “I don’t want to see anything but smoking holes in the ground where those SA-12s are!” he shouted.

“Take it easy, Colonel,” Patrick said. On his secure datalink, he spoke, “Fortress, this is Avenger, secure. Priority-alert notification.”

“Go ahead with your priority-alert notification, Avenger, Fortress is secure.” Patrick could hear the warning tones being sounded in the Eighth Air Force command center as Taylor Viner hit the ALERT button on her console, which sounded a tone in the entire room and would page each of the headquarters’ staff officers.

“Bobcat Zero-seven has just been shot down by a Russian SA-12 surface-to-air missile. Request permission to return fire with ground-attack UCAVs.”

“Copy your request, Avenger. Stand by.”

“General…?” Daren asked. The StealthHawks were beginning their attack runs.

“Continue,” Patrick said without hesitation. “Nail ’em.”

Each of the StealthHawk UCAVs carried millimeter-wave radar and infrared sensors that could precisely locate and identify the enemy targets. They received initial target-area instructions from the Vampire bomber, but, once released, they searched for targets on their own. A screen on the “big board” showed the decision-making matrix each StealthHawk employed. It was extraordinary to watch: The BATMAN staff saw the image the StealthHawk was looking at, saw it compare the image to its stored catalog of vehicles and come up with several possibilities. A few seconds later, the StealthHawk would take another “snap-shot” of the target and refine its guess until it came up with only one possibility. Then it selected a weapon that would be most effective in destroying the target: an AGM-211 mini-Maverick missile for the armored SA-12 command vehicle, and CBU-87/103 Combined Effects Munitions mines against the radar arrays and transporter-erector-launchers.

Two more SA-12 missiles launched moments after they picked up a sector-scan warning, followed by two more from a different set of launchers, but it was obvious the radar didn’t have a solid lock-on. “Four SA-12s in flight…missiles are deviating, the missile-tracking radar has lost contact…back to surveillance-scan mode only…clean misses.” The radar cross-section of each StealthHawk was one one-thousandth the size of the already-stealthy Vampire bomber — the Russian radar had no chance at all of tracking it except at very close range.

Both StealthHawks bypassed the second SA-12 battery and instead rushed the first group of vehicles detected — the one with the command-post vehicle, the nerve center of the SA-12 system. The Ural-4320 six-by-six was the smallest vehicle in the group, but that didn’t matter to the UCAVs — both launched a single mini-Maverick missile at the correct vehicle. Patrick and Daren watched the attack unfold as the area images from the StealthHawk’s sensors, and then the target images from the mini-Mav’s imaging infrared sensor, showed the missiles closing in. The mission commander had the option of designating another target or correcting the aimpoint, but it wasn’t necessary — the StealthHawks were perfectly accurate. Both missiles plowed dead-center into the command-post vehicle, transforming it into a cloud of fire in seconds.

Like meat-eating bees buzzing around a picnic table, the StealthHawks continued their work. The first UCAV sent its second mini-Maverick into the nearby 9S15MV surveillance-radar vehicle, which consisted of a large tracked vehicle carrying a massive billboardlike long-range radar. The second UCAV rolled in on another large radar array not far from the command-post vehicle, but Patrick hit his intercom button. “Negative on that target, Zero-seven,” he said. “That’s the sector-scanning radar — it’s only effective against ballistic-missile attack. Put another mini-Mav into that ‘billboard’ radar.” The remote mission commander overrode the StealthHawk’s target choice and instead guided it against the same long-range radar attacked by the first UCAV. Without the command-post vehicle, the