freighter, according to a registry check performed by Lieutenant Freddy Collins. Collins handled the radio intercept gear, and had been tasked with keeping tabs on ship traffic as well. The other specialist, Torbin Dolk, handled the radar intercepts and advanced ECMs, backing up and feeding Chris Ferris, the copilot.
“Getting some hits just beyond our turnaround point,” warned Torbin. “Radar just out of range.”
“Unidentified ship at grid coordinate one-one-seven-point-three-two at two-zero-zero-one,” said Collins. “Could be a warship.”
“Roger that,” said Zen. He pushed the Flighthawks further ahead of the Megafortress, running close to the edge of their control range at ten miles.
“Looks like a destroyer,” said Collins.
“On its own?” asked Bree.
“There may be something beyond it but I can’t pick it out.”
“Definitely something out there — I have two Su-33’s at two hundred thirteen nautical miles right on our nose,” said Chris. “They don’t see us — turning — looks like they’re high cap for somebody.”
“Have another destroyer — looks like we have a location on the entire Chinese Navy,” said Collins.
“Radar contact is Slotback; we’re out of range. Computer thinks Su-33’s or Su-27Ks, same thing,” said Torbin.
“That would fit with the
The Su-33—originally designated Su-27K by the Russians — was a Naval version of the potent Su-27, most of its modifications were minor, helping adapt the fighter to carrier landings and midair refueling. It could be configured for either fighter or attack roles, and despite its alterations remained as maneuverable as any piloted aircraft in the U.S. inventory. The Chinese air-to-air missile systems were not particularly advanced, but nonetheless got the job done, and the 30mm cannons in their noses tossed serious hunks of metal in the air.
“Okay, that puts the carrier one hundred nautical miles beyond Confucius,” said Chris Ferris, collating all the data.
“Typical CAP?”
“Usually two Sukhois in the air; they should have two others ready to launch. They have to go one at a time so it takes them a bit to cycle up. Endurance is limited. We don’t have a lot of data on what sort of refueling procedures they use. Carriers are brand-new.”
“What do you say we change our patrol area to get a better look at them,” said Bree. “Roll tape from four or five miles away. What do you think, Hawk Leader?”
“Hawk Leader copies,” Zen told his wife. “I’ll wave to them.”
“Roger that.”
Danny Freah curled his fingers around one of the handholds at the side of the helicopter as it took a sharp turn to the left, riding the nap of the jungle valley toward their destination. It was his first ride in the Dreamland Quick Bird, a veritable sports car compared to the Pave Lows and the MV-22 Ospreys he was used to.
Starting with a Mcdonald-Douglas MD530N NOTAR (for no tail rotor) Little Bird, the engineers had made several modifications to the small scouts. The most noticeable was the reworking of the fuselage, trading its thin skin for faceted carbon-boron panels similar to the material used in the body armor Whiplash troopers dressed in. even though comparatively light, the panels were too heavy to cover the entire aircraft. However, the protection offered by strategically placed panels meant the aircraft could take a direct hit from a ZSU-23 at a hundred feet without serious damage.
Uprated engines compensated for the weight penalty; the single Alison turboshaft that motivated a “normal” Little Bird was replaced with a pair of smaller but more powerful turbo based on an Italian design. The techies joked the motors had been taken from supercharged spaghetti makers; they were in fact intended for lightweight hydrofoils and had a tendency to overheat when pushed to the max. However, the little turbos delivered over seven hundred horsepower (actually, 713.2) apiece, compared to the 650 generated by a standard Alison, itself no slouch. The fuselage now had a triple wedge at the bottom, the blisters helping accommodate additional fuel as well as adding hard-points for Hellfire missiles and other munitions. A pair of 7.62mm chain-guns were embedded in the oversized landing skids, so that even when on a transport mission, as it was now, the aircraft was never unarmed.
I was impossible to effectively reduce the helicopter’s radar signature; flying more than a few feet off the ground would make it visible to any powerful active radar. The NOTAR helped funnel its heat signature, however, making if difficult to detect with infrared gear. It was relatively quiet as well, and could cruise at just over 170 knots; its top speed was beyond 220, though no one was entirely sure, due to the performance limits placed on the engines until the overheating problems were solved.
The Quick Bird couldn’t quite keep up with the Osprey, which cruised around four hundred knots, nor did it have the range of the Pave Low or even the ubiquitous Blackhawk, but the little scout was clearly an improvement over the AH-6 Special Forces-optimized Little Bird, and that was high praise indeed. Easily transportable by cargo plane, two had been packed inside “Quickmover,” the MC-17 that brought Danny and his team to the Philippines. Without breaking a sweat, off-loading them at the Philippines Air Force base had taken the crew less than ten minutes.
Danny glanced at the paper map in his lap, trying to correlate it and the satellite snaps he had on his clipboard with what he was seeing out of the bubble of the helo cockpit. The southeastern islands of the Philippines were pristine jewels of unfettered nature, wild amalgams of jungle, volcano, and desert island. The Quick Birds’ destination sat on the side of one of these gems, now less than five minutes away. Somewhat overgrown, the base had served as first a Japanese, and then an Allied, airport during World War II. Afterwards, it had seen use as a reserve and emergency airstrip and then a remote training area, its concrete ran nearly 2,500 yards, more than enough for the Megafortresses to land and take off — once the jungle was cleared away and steel mesh put down to even out the rough spots.
“There it is,” said the help pilot, pointing ahead. “We got that spot at the north end we’ll try for, Cap,” said the pilot.
“Good,” said Danny. The satellite photo seemed to show about seventy-five yards of clear area at the northern end, but even without pulling up his binoculars, Danny could see there were thick vines covering a good portion of it.
“Couple of clear spots I think,” added the pilot, dropping his airspeed to hover.
“Let’s survey the area before we land,” said Danny. “I know you don’t have too much fuel, but I’d like to get a feel for the terrain first.”
“Not a problem,” said the pilot, radioing the second helo.
The airstrip edged out over the sea, paralleling a cliff that hung over a rock-strewn, sandy beach. The light- blue water revealed it was partly protected by coral reefs. Just to the south was a jutting stone, an oddly shaped piece of yellow rock that would provide a good point for one of their radar surveillance units. A road had once wound into the jungle near the southwestern end of the strip; from the air it seemed almost entirely overgrown.
Though it wasn’t visible, a village lay about seven miles to the south, at the extreme tip of the island. According to their briefing papers, there were less than a hundred people there. The rest of the island was uninhabited.
“All right, let’s get down and get to work,” Danny told the pilot.
The Quick Bird managed to find a clear spot on the gray-brown concrete big enough to land nearly side by side. Gear off-loaded, the two choppers tipped forward and rose, leaving Danny and his six men alone with a collection of flamethrowers, buzz saws, and other jungle-removing gear.
“All right, we have forty-five minutes before the helos get back with the rest of our gear,” Danny told his men. “Half hour after that, the mesh for the runway should start arriving, powder and Bison, I want a landing area hacked out so the helos can get down without breaking our stuff. Nurse, you and Jonesy do a perimeter sweep south and west. Pretty boy, Blow — you guys do the same north and east. No chances, okay? I’ll set up the com gear.”
Powder picked up one of the four flamethrowers they’d brought to burn off the undergrowth, and hoisted the
