Tiger's Claw: A Novel

our channel.”

“Could it be from that American bastard flying next to us?” Bo asked.

“Operations, this is Ying Seven-One leader,” came a new voice on the command frequency, “we are tied on radar with Qianfeng Three-Three and the American aircraft and will take over the intercept. Break. Qianfeng Three-Three, Ying Seven-One flight of two, inbound, we have you on radar, we will join in two minutes.”

“Three-Three, acknowledged,” Bo responded. “Seven-One, be advised, use caution, our radios are being meaconed, and I think the American is doing it.”

“We have not picked up anything yet,” the leader of the JN-15 formation, Hai Jun Shao Xiao (Lieutenant Commander) Wu Dek Su, said. “We are tied on radar with the American aircraft. Advise you return to base.”

“Acknowledged,” Bo replied. He scowled at the B-1, still steady as a rock on his left wingtip. When he turned left to head back to the carrier, the American B-1 started to turn with him, then quickly descended and was lost from view. “Bastard. Just out for a little cruise, eh?”

“We were done for the day anyway,” Du said.

“Seven-One, tied on visual,” Wu radioed a few moments later. “I will take him on the left side. Take the high perch.”

“Two,” the wingman replied.

In moments the JN-15 fighters had positioned themselves around the American B-1 bomber, the leader off the left side of the nose in good view of the pilot, and the other two hundred feet above and five hundred feet behind the bomber, in a good position to watch all the players and to react if the bomber tried any evasive or dangerous maneuvers. “Operations, Ying Seven-One, visual confirmation, the aircraft is a large four-engine strategic bomber resembling an American Air Force B-1B Lancer bomber,” Wu reported on the command channel. “American civil aircraft registration number November dash Zero Three Sierra Mike. American flag painted on the tail, but no other markings. I see what appears to be a targeting pod under the nose on the right side, but otherwise no external weapons or devices visible. Request instructions.”

“Stay in formation and monitor,” came the reply from the operations controller aboard the carrier Zheng He. “Continue warnings on UHF GUARD. Get him out of this area immediately.”

“Acknowledged.” On the universal GUARD emergency channel, Wu said, “American B-1 bomber, this is Ying Seven-One flight of two JN-15 fighters, warning, warning, warning, you are interfering with military flight operations vital to the defense of the People’s Republic of China. You are ordered to turn east immediately and remain clear of this area. Do you understand? Acknowledge immediately please.”

“Hawk Seven-One, this is Sky Masters Zero-Three,” Tom Hoffman replied, using the English translation for Ying. “I read you loud and clear, but we’re not going anywhere. You and your pals can just go pound sand. This is international airspace and we’re entitled to fly in it just as much as you are. We’ll stay away from your ships but we’re not going anywhere. Now zou kai, go niang yang de!” adding “Go away!” plus a few expletives to his response.

“The American bomber aircraft commander refuses to leave the area!” Wu radioed back to the Chinese controller. “He uses profanity and dares us to attack him! Request permission to fire warning shots!”

“Stand by, Seven-One, stand by,” the operations controller responded. Several moments later: “Negative, Seven-One, negative, do not fire, repeat, do not fire. A single-ship JN-20 is airborne and will intercept in three minutes. If the American bomber does not respond to the presence of our fighters, we may take action. Remain in close formation and monitor position from the carrier group.”

As much as it galled him to do so, Wu stayed off the radios and remained in formation with the B-1 bomber, occasionally nudging closer and closer to make out any other details of the aircraft and to see if he could scare the pilot away just by flying dangerously close to him. The B-1 pilot didn’t appear fazed at all when the JN-15 moved closer. He was also galled by the fact that the Hollywood JN-20 pilot was going to be allowed to chase the B-1 away, not the JN-15s.

“Ying flight, this is Laoying One-One, tied on radar,” the JN-20 Challenger’s pilot reported. It was the JN-20 squadron’s commander, Hai Jun Zhong Xiao (Commander) Hua Ji, himself—he should have known the boss would take this intercept, Wu thought. “Say status.”

“Eagle One-One, this is Hawk Seven-One flight of two, still in close formation with the American bomber, airspeed accelerating now that the Striker is heading back to the ship,” Wu reported. “The JH-37 crew reported some kind of meaconing and interference and suspect it might be from the bomber’s radar, but we are not experiencing any problems.”

“Acknowledged,” Hua replied. “Switch to the target’s right side and I will come up on the left.”

“Seven-One flight, acknowledged. Hawk flight, lead is switching to the right side.”

“Two.”

The JN-15 pilot pulled off a tiny bit of power, then steered below the bomber. With the big plane above him now, he could clearly see the Sniper targeting pod mounted on an external stores station, the three bomb bays, and the other external stores stations, all empty. When he flew all the way around to the other side, the pilot smoothly put the power back in, then slowly climbed until he was even with the copilot’s window on the right side of the bomber. The bomber’s copilot immediately pulled out a small camera and started snapping pictures.

“Masters Zero-Three, this is Laoying One-One,” Hua radioed on GUARD, “confirm you are not armed and not radiating.”

“I’m not confirming anything, One-One,” Hoffman said. “I didn’t clear any of you jokers in. Someone could get hurt—by accident, of course.”

“Do not make any aggressive moves, Zero-Three,” Commander Hua said. “I have you in sight and will close on your left side.”

“You’re not cleared in, One-One,” Hoffman said irritably. It definitely sounded like he was getting agitated. Maybe he was getting ready to bug out. “Stay clear. I am unarmed and flying in international airspace. You guys don’t own this territory. Likai, prick!”

“Zero-Three, you are flying in an area where Chinese military operations are under way,” Hua said, infuriated that the American was using such foul language on an open radio frequency. “It is you who is doing dangerous acts. If you will not depart the area immediately, we have no choice but to shadow you until you do.”

“Suit yourself, bozos,” Hoffman said. “Hope you didn’t fill up your piddle pack already.”

Hua pulled his JN-20 Challenger fighter up to the B-1 bomber, taking digital photos of the aircraft from its left side as he got closer, then maneuvered beside and no more than a few yards away from the bomber. The bomber pilot took a few photos, then gave Hua an obscene finger gesture, putting his thumb between his index and middle finger.

“Why do we not blast this guy with our afterburners, like the American fighters did to our JH-37?” Lieutenant Commander Wu radioed on his command channel. There had been a confrontation between a land-based JH-37 and fighters from the American carrier George H. W. Bush in the south part of the South China Sea, where the U.S. Navy F/A-18 Super Hornet fighters tried to chase the JH-37 away with a tactic called a “handstand”—a Hornet pilot pulled directly above the JH-37, then pulled up steeply and hit its afterburners, pushing the Chinese bomber into an almost uncontrollable dive.

But the maneuver resulted in the release of a supersonic antiship missile that steered directly at the Bush—whether accidental or intentional still had not been revealed. The missile was destroyed just seconds before hitting the supercarrier, but the resulting damage of the exploding missile killed fifteen, injured thirty-seven, and destroyed eight aircraft; the Bush was out of commission for almost two years. Although the incident was almost five years ago, it still left a deep scar for most Chinese sailors and airmen.

“Hey, One-One, back away,” Hoffman radioed a few minutes later. “You’re crowding me. The guy on my right is moving in too close too.”

“Sounds like the American is getting nervous,” Wu radioed.

“Maybe if he gets nervous enough, he will leave,” Hua said. “See how close you can move in.”