“When will we be within radar range?” The high-endurance cutter—in essence a small frigate, but tasked for search-and-rescue and patrol instead of antiair or antisubmarine warfare—was equipped with the TRS-3D radar, a digital air-and-surface search radar system.
“We’ll be at max aircraft search range in forty minutes,” Fells replied. The Global Hawk accomplished surface search operations very well but had limited air search capabilities. The Global Hawk’s infrared and electro-optical sensors could detect slow-moving or hovering helicopters, but they were only hit-or-miss with faster-moving airborne targets—they needed the
“Damn,” Sheridan muttered. “That Chinese carrier could have fighters covering those helicopters.”
“Eagle Eye has radar contact!” one of the sensor technicians shouted. “Large surface radar return, not moving, just north of the suspected crash area.”
“Maybe the Chinese will keep on searching in the wrong spot,” Sheridan said. “Mark the return and continue to the original search area. I don’t want the Chinese to think we found anything. We got a visual image of that contact?”
“Stand by, sir,” the tech said. A few moments later, one of the side monitors in the tactical action room changed. It showed a large piece of what was definitely an airliner-sized fuselage. Several other objects could be seen floating in the ocean near the wreck.
“Jesus,” Sheridan breathed. “Those look like bodies.”
“Eagle Eye will lose contact in sixty seconds, sir,” the technician said.
“When can we launch the Jayhawk, Ed?” Sheridan asked.
“We’re at extreme range of the -60, sir, even with the external fuel tanks,” Fells replied. The HH-60 Jayhawk was the Coast Guard’s version of the Army Blackhawk helicopter, optimized for long-range search and rescue at sea. “They would have zero time on station when they reached the crash site.”
Sheridan thought for a moment, then asked, “That’s with standard fuel reserves, correct?”
Fells looked at his commanding officer. He knew perfectly well what the rules said—what was the skipper thinking? “Sir?”
“It’ll take ten minutes to launch the Jayhawk—that’s ten minutes on station,” Sheridan said. “We can push the normal fuel reserve times a bit because it’s an emergency and the weather is decent.”
“Sir, the weather isn’t a factor when making a decision about launching a helo for a search-and-rescue or recovery,” Fells said. “Fuel is life. A million things can go wrong—that’s why reserves were built into the program.”
“You don’t need to lecture me on procedures, Ed,” Sheridan said irritably. “I’m more concerned about bringing Americans home than rules and regulations.” He paused and went on, “Launch the Jayhawk. I want at least one American or a piece of that aircraft recovered.” He picked up a phone that was tied directly to the bridge. “Officer of the Deck, this is the captain. Max forward speed for helo operations, then push it up to flank speed after the helo is away.”
“Max forward for helo ops, then flank after the helo is away, aye, sir.”
It was a tense several minutes as the U.S. Coast Guard Jayhawk helicopter was preflighted and launched, with two pilots, a rescue hoist operator, and a rescue swimmer aboard. Sheridan watched the launch, then headed forward and strode onto the
“Aye, sir, Captain has the con,” the officer of the deck repeated. “We are at flank speed, heading two-zero- zero, ops normal.”
“Very good,” Sheridan responded. “Radio Pacific Fleet and Coast Guard Pacific Area that we are proceeding at flank speed to suspected Poseidon crash site. Chinese helicopters are in the vicinity.” He picked up the shipwide intercom. “All hands, this is the captain. We are heading toward the estimated crash site of the Navy patrol plane. We have already sent the Eagle Eye and Jayhawk out ahead. The Chinese already have helicopters searching the crash site. They’ve been asked to leave the area but have not responded.
“We still don’t know why that patrol plane went down, but we should assume the worst and that China had something to do with it,” Sheridan went on. “There are Chinese air and surface forces in the area, and we can anticipate that they will be shadowing us. Hopefully, that’s all they do. We also know that they have submarines, maritime bombers, and perhaps long-range antiship cruise and ballistic missiles. We know China considers control of the South China Sea as in its vital national interests, and they have been increasingly aggressive against all foreign military activities there. If the loss of that patrol plane was because China is beginning to actively defend the South China Sea, then we could be cruising into trouble. But an American plane and its crew are down, and our job is to search for any survivors until some heavier hardware shows up. Stay on your toes. I’ll keep you advised of the situation. Captain out.”
“Bridge, Tactical, the Eagle Eye has reached the original search area,” Lieutenant Commander Fells reported a few minutes later. “Numerous radar contacts reported.”
“Pick out the largest ones and have it orbit over it,” Sheridan said. “I want lots of pictures. What’s the sea state?”
“Two to four feet, sir.”
That was good news—if they put a swimmer in the water, the sea shouldn’t be a major factor. “How long until the Jayhawk is on station on that first Eagle Eye contact?”
“Fifty-five minutes, sir. Time on station will be less than twenty minutes.”
“How long can the Eagle Eye stay on station?”
“Another two hours, sir.”
“And how long before we’re within air search radar contact?”
“About an hour, sir.”
Nothing left to do but sweat it out, Sheridan thought. Hopefully, if the Chinese had helicopters and fighters airborne, they’d shadow the Eagle Eye in the original search area and ignore the Jayhawk farther north. They’d find out soon enough.
Several minutes later: “Bridge, Tactical, Global Hawk has a visual on two unidentified helicopters in the original search area. They appear to be hovering.”
“Damn,” Sheridan muttered. He had nothing to work with to scare the Chinese away from the search box, nothing to threaten or intimidate anyone . . . except the full force and power of the United States of America, even if it was only broadcast on a radio frequency by a lowly Coast Guard cutter. “Have Comm send on all civil, commercial, and military frequencies: advise all parties that the U.S. Coast Guard is conducting search-and-rescue operations and to stay well clear of the search box. Transmit coordinates of the box. Advise that it is illegal to interfere with an active search-and-rescue operation on the high seas. Send in English and Chinese, and make it damned loud and
“Affirmative, sir.” A few minutes later: “Sir, we have video from the Eagle Eye of Chinese helicopters hoisting objects out of the water.”
“You’re positive they’re Chinese helicopters?”
“Positive, sir. Kamov-28 Helix helicopters, red, white, and blue People’s Liberation Army Navy banner on the aft fuselage,” Fells said. “Good clear images from Eagle Eye. Positive ID.”
The Ka-28s were Russian-made helicopters, transferred when China purchased Russian destroyers, but the People’s Liberation Army Navy banner on the side was unmistakable. “Very well,” Sheridan said. “Send images to Fleet and Area and request instructions.” He hated that phrase “request instructions”—he very much preferred to come up with a plan of action himself and ask for permission to carry it out—but he had no viable options whatsoever until he was closer to the search box. Even then, he had very few options against an armed Chinese warship. “Where’s that Chinese carrier?”
“Approaching the southern search box now, sir,” Fells responded. “Well within fixed- and rotary-wing range.”
“Where’s our closest aircraft carrier?”
“The
