“Forty miles.”
“Target illuminator is back . . . illuminator locked on,” Wells said. “With SPEAR initializing, you’ll have to do chaff and flares manually, General.”
“Copy,” Patrick said.
“Thirty miles.” The image from the Sniper targeting pod started to reveal the shape of their target—definitely a very large warship, but still too far for positive identification. “Target locked. Coming up on target ID . . .”
“
“Left chaff!” Cutlass shouted, and as soon as he saw Patrick hit the touch screen he threw the Excalibur bomber into a steep right turn.
“Broke lock,” Wells said.
“Sniper still locked on . . . twenty miles!” Wickham said. “Positive ID, Chinese destroyer! Wings level, ready on bomb bay doors!” Cutlass rolled wings-level. “Doors coming open.” They all heard the rumbling as the middle bomb bay doors opened. “Missile one away . . . missile two away, doors coming closed. Left turn to three-zero-zero and center up for the photo op. Ten miles. Smile for the cameras.” Cutlass steered the bomber straight toward their target, angling slightly away so as to not fly directly over it going almost Mach one. Seconds later they overflew the “target” . . .
. . . but it was not a Chinese destroyer but the USS
“Very cool flyby, Masters Zero-Seven,” the skipper of the
“Thanks for the workout,
“We sure appreciate the eyes,” the skipper said. The XB-1 Excaliburs that had arrived at Andersen Air Force Base had been tasked to work with solo or small groups of Navy ships in the western Pacific, scanning out beyond the ships’ horizon for aircraft or other ships, identifying them, and relaying the information back to their charges. At altitude, the Excaliburs’ active electronically scanned array had a range of over two hundred miles for both surface or airborne targets and could precisely identify targets with great detail.
Cutlass started a climb and turned toward Guam. “Station and oxygen checks, crew,” he said, then knocked his helmet with the heel of his hand. “It’s easy for me to forget I’ve only got one crewmember,” he said.
“No, Cutlass, you still have a four-person crew—it’s just that two of them don’t need to do oxygen checks,” Patrick said. “They still have to reconfigure their stations.”
“Roger that,” Cutlass said. “Anything else?”
“It was very good overall, Cutlass,” Patrick said, checking his notes on his kneeboard. “Keep an eye on your airspeeds so we’re not returning without a Sniper pod. The flight control system should alert you, but it won’t retard the throttles for you. Also remember that when SPEAR fails, we have to deploy the ‘Little Buddy’ towed decoy manually, just like chaff and flares—I was waiting to see if you would have remembered that. It would’ve helped out fighting off the HQ-9.” The ALE-50 towed decoy system was an aerodynamic canister towed behind an aircraft that, because of its design, had a much larger radar cross section than the aircraft, making it a juicier target for radar- guided antiaircraft missiles—it was so effective that many combat pilots dubbed it the “Little Buddy.” The improved version of the decoy had infrared emitters that could decoy heat-seeking missiles, and the canister could also be reeled in for reuse.
“I did completely forget that,” Cutless admitted.
“Karen gave you a hint when she reminded us about manually deploying chaff. I don’t think you’ll forget it next time.”
“I hope not.”
“Masters Zero-Seven, Control,” the senior controller came up on the command channel.
“Control, Zero-Seven, go ahead,” Patrick replied.
“We need you to RTB as soon as possible,” the controller said.
“We’ll be on the ground in about twenty minutes. What’s up?”
“The you-know-what hit the fan out in the South China Sea, sir,” the controller said. “All tactical units have been placed on alert.”
Less than twenty minutes later, Cutlass taxied the XB-1 Excalibur to its shelter on the First Expeditionary Bomb Wing parking ramp, and he and Patrick emerged. Security on the ramp had been noticeably beefed up. After turning the jet over to the crew chief and maintenance technicians, they headed immediately for headquarters. They found that it was not much cooler inside the normally well air-conditioned building than outside. “Power go off again?” Cutlass asked.
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Colonel Nash Hartzell, the deputy wing commander, said. Hartzell wore command pilot’s wings, a product of over ten years flying transports all over the world, but the tall, bald, bespectacled officer’s real passion was computers. “Guahan Utility District says the fuel oil flow was briefly disrupted by a faulty valve, and once the vapor lock is clear power will be back on. Backup generators are working okay at the command post and security checkpoints.”
“That’s a common problem here, Patrick,” Cutlass explained. “Power and water to the base is provided by the municipal utility district, just like basic phone service is provided by Guam Telephone. We have our own backup sources for essential areas, but this base is so large that we can’t build our own power plant.” He turned back to Hartzell. “So what’s going on, Nash?”
“The Air Force detected a missile launch they suspect was a cruise missile from Hainan Island,” Hartzell said. “Several minutes later a Vietnamese frigate was hit by some unidentified weapon. PACOM thinks the launch from Hainan was a Chinese antiship cruise missile.”
“Christ,” Cutlass exclaimed. “China really seems to be on the warpath these days. Any orders?”
“Just a general alert and a change in Force Protection Condition to Charlie,” Hartzell said. Force Protection Condition dealt with the security level on the base; it usually was a response to terrorist threats, but it could be affected by any sort of disturbance or threat. Level “Charlie” was a heightened state of security against a nonspecific threat. “Outer security contractors are being augmented by our own security teams, and inner security has been upped.”
Cutlass nodded and thought for a moment, then said, “I want to go to FPCON Charlie Plus,” he said. “We’ve got too many planes out here, and with China firing cruise missiles out of nowhere, we could be next. Restrict all personnel to the base and all flight crews to the flight line. Two forms of picture ID at the gates, search all vehicles, and full alert badge exchange for the flight line. I want all the flight crews, especially the civilians, briefed on the evacuation orbit areas and emergency deployment procedures to Tinian and Saipan.” The international airports on the other two major islands of the Commonwealth of the Northern Marianas Islands were used as alternate divert and emergency evacuation bases—the airstrips were too short to fly loaded bombers but were often used by fighters.
“Yes, sir,” Hartzell said. “I have to run to issue the orders, sir—the power outage took out the phones too.” He hustled off, followed by the commander’s staff.
“Things are getting dicey around here, sir,” Cutlass said to Patrick as they headed back to the maintenance hangar to debrief their training mission. “I have a feeling we’re going to be put on alert, including the Excaliburs.”
“I hope you’re wrong, Cutlass,” Patrick said. “It all depends on what China says and does next. But I don’t think this is going to blow over any time soon.” He clapped Cutlass on the shoulder. “I hate to do this to you, Cutlass, but after I debrief, I’m heading back to the mainland to launch the last Excalibur. That should be rolling off the line any day. You got one ride under your belt, and you did very well, but I don’t know when the next checkout ride will be.”
“That’s okay, sir,” Cutlass said. “I have a feeling I’ll be pretty busy on the ground. Things are stirring out
