Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 03 (50 page)

           
The big LSDs, or large-screen
displays, were a bit intimidating for Feinemann, so he had his data-input
technician give him a constant verbal readout of significant events on the screen
while he tried to keep up. The data-input officer made a comment to Feinemann,
prefaced with a short expletive, and the group AAW officer scanned the screen
in momentary confusion—both because he couldn’t spot the event and because no
one in
Bunker Hill
's
CIC seemed very excited. “We’ve lost
contact with one of our fighters?” Feinemann asked incredulously.

           
“Yes, sir,” Hart responded. “That
B-6 must’ve got him before Bullet Three could take a shot. It was a long-range
crossing snapshot, too—he must’ve been carrying PL-9 missiles.”

           
Feinemann stared at Hart in complete
surprise, wondering what in hell the young officer was babbling about.

           
Hart continued. “Those C601 missiles
got past both the Tomcats and the
Phoenix
missiles.” He turned to the tactical-alert
intercom and radioed, “Bridge, CIC, I show four inbounds, altitude seven
hundred feet, speed five hundred fifty knots, bearing two-niner-seven, range
forty-two miles and closing, Charlie-601 antiship missiles. One bandit turning
outbound, range now six-seven miles.” To his communications officer he said, “I
need all Bullet aircraft to stay clear. Have Basket take them northwest for
their refueling and to counter the new inbound bandits, but tell Basket to keep
them away from my engagement lane. If
Ranger
launches the ready-alert birds, make sure Hawkeye or Basket takes them well
north.”

           
“How do you know those are C601
missiles, and how do you know those were Chinese B-6 bombers, son?” Feinemann
snapped. “You’re making reports-to your bridge on enemy aircraft that, as far
as I can see, you have absolutely no information to make. You’re also chasing
away three air-defense fighters from possible engagements without knowing all
the facts.”

           
“The flight profiles, sir,” Hart
explained patiently. “They launched two missiles each from over a hundred
miles’ range—that’s too far for a C801. Those missiles climbed first, but now
they’re descending to about a hundred feet, and they’re cruising at about six
hundred knots—typical profile of a C601 missile . . .”

           
“It’s also the profile of an Exocet,
a Harpoon, or a Soviet AS-5 missile, or any number of antiship missiles,”
Feinemann pointed out, his eyes narrowing on Hart.

           
“If we were facing off against the
French or the Soviets,

           
I’d agree, sir,” Hart replied. “The
reports from the recon plane say that a Chinese EF4-class ship was in the area
and that Chinese troops invaded
Mindanao
;
I’d assume that the fighters and these missiles are Chinese. My guess is still
a C601, and that’s what I’ll assume when we begin responding.

           
“As far as the carrier aircraft—each
plane was carrying two missiles plus air-to-air weapons, and it was doing some
heavy active jamming, not just uplink trackbreaking. That’s too much payload
for a J-7, B-7, or Q-5 fighter—it has to be a B-6 Badger bomber.

           
“And as far as the Tomcats are
concerned, I want them out of the way. Aegis can prosecute sea-skimming targets
better than a Tomcat, and I’m not worried about enemy fighters right now—I’m
worried about those missiles. In sixty seconds I’ll start worrying about the
inbound fighters.” Hart was expecting a reply; when he got none, he added,
“Sir, I need clearance to release batteries and engage when those missiles
cross the horizon.”

           
“Your captain might be impressed
with your amateur intelligence analysis, Commander Hart,” Feinemann said
irritably, “but the Admiral needs
concrete
data before he can commit any forces under his command. He can’t operate on
guesses.”

           
“Then you can tell him,
sir,
that we’ve got four subsonic
inbounds that broke the group’s bubble a minute ago,” Hart said, trying to
control his temper. He couldn’t believe he was having an
argument
over target identification with this man, with four
deadly—and possibly nuclear—missiles heading straight for them. “I make
estimates on the threat based on my observations, but the bottom line is that I
want weapons on-line to stop these things from hitting the carrier. In thirty
seconds I start acting on my own authority; I’m requesting permission to commit
now. ”

           
“You commit when the Admiral
tells
you to!”

           
Hart had had enough. He hit the
intercom button. “Bridge, CIC, emergency, request permission to release the
batteries fore and aft and engage.”

           
The
Bunker HilPs
skipper did not hear the argument between his TAO and
the group commander’s AAW deputy, and he certainly knew the procedures with an
embarked group commander, but with a threat this big heading in, he didn’t
hesitate. “Bridge to CIC, batteries released fore and aft, clear to engage.”

           
“Understand clear to engage. Clear
forward and aft missile decks, clear forward and aft missile decks.” From that
point on, Hart ignored Feinemann—everything else was inconsequential except his
radar, his console, and his weapon system. If the man had anything to say, it
would have to wait until after he dealt with the inbounds.

           
The
Bunker
Hill
was the
first Aegis cruiser to use the Mk 41 vertical-launch system, where missiles
were loaded into individual canisters and then fired vertically—the system was
far less complex, more redundant, faster, and required fewer guided-missile
mates to operate the launchers than the older Mk 26, Mk 22, or Mk 13
“merry-go-round” launchers.
Bunker Hill
had two VLS launchers, one fore and one aft, each with sixty-one
missiles—combinations of SM-2 Aegis antiaircraft missiles, Tomahawk
ship-and-land-attack cruise missiles—some with low-yield nuclear warheads—and
ASROC antisubmarine rocket torpedoes.

           
Hart had been extensively briefed on
exactly what options were open to him as tactical action officer—he knew that
the only weapon in his arsenal right now was the SM-2 Aegis missile, and his
only job was to protect
Ranger
and
its escorts. Even though this was probably the exact situation that the Chinese
People’s Liberation Army Navy was in when they launched their nuclear antiship
missile at the tiny Philippine fleet near Palawan, Hart knew he would never be
authorized to let fly with one of his nuclear-tipped Tomahawks, even in
retaliation.

           
Hart checked to be sure the Aegis
system was in AAW COMMIT mode and used a trackball on his console to move a
circle cursor to the data blocks representing the inbound antiship missiles.
The ASTAB monitors instantly gave him performance data on the inbounds,
displayed IFF radioidentification information—there was none—and classified
them as hostile. If they
were
friendlies—unlikely but possible—they were flying without radios, without
exchanging coded identification signals, and flying well off the established
fleet approach procedures—and they were going to die. “Give me trial engage,”
he told his data-entry technician.

           
“Trial engage,” the tech replied.
Instantly the data block began to blink and a readout on the ASTAB monitor gave
a list of the missiles that Aegis would select. On the LSD, a yellow line
showed the computer’s best guess as to the Aegis missile’s track, the intercept
points with the incoming missiles, and the positions of all the ships and
aircraft in the battle group once the engagement was made. “Aegis wants to
commit ten missiles,” the data-entry tech reported. “We got Bullet Two within
twenty miles on impact.”

           
The number was significant because
if there were nuclear- tipped €601 antiship missiles, the Tomcats would fry in
the blast. But if Hart waited any longer,
Bunker
Hill
would be
doing the frying. It was also significant because the Mk 41 launcher could
rapid-fire only seven missiles at one time. He selected sixty-four nautical
miles range on his LSD to keep careful watch on the intercept, then said,
“Understood. We’ll do six from the forward launcher and the rest from the aft
launcher. Clear trial engage, sound the horn, engage weapon commit.”

           
“Trial engage clear.” A muted horn
sounded throughout the ship, followed by, “Attention all hands, missile alert
actual, missile alert actual, stand by for missile launch.” The tech then
reported, “Launchers in the green and reporting clear. CDS enable. Weapon
commit in three, two, one, now.” The ASTAB monitors cleared, and they began to
show the Mk 41 launcher status and the status of the missiles in the forward
launcher that were being chosen by the Aegis system for the first ripple. A
button marked “Hold Fire” was blinking rapidly in the lower-left comer of the
communications panel, where both Hart and his data-entry tech could reach
it—Feinemann had a blinking Hold Fire button as well, and he had full authority
to use it.

           
Aegis selected ten missiles and
began a pre-programmed ten-second warmup and target-data transfer cycle.
“Missile counting down, ten missiles in the green . . . missile one forward in
five ... four ... three ... two ... one ... launch! Missiles away.”

           
Up on the forward deck of the
Bunker
Hill
,
a twenty-five- square-inch white door popped open atop the Mk 41 VLS
launcher, and a cloud of white smoke engulfed the entire forward portion of the
cruiser. Once every two seconds, an Aegis SM-2 missile lifted free of the
Bunker
Hill
,
climbed to ten thousand feet in just a few seconds, then arched over
and began its intercept. The missiles’ autopilots steered them into an
intercept “basket,” an area in which the incoming targets were predicted to
fly. When the Aegis SPY-1 radar detected the SM-2 missiles approaching the
“basket,” the SPY-1 would activate an SPG-62 X-band target illuminator which
would “paint” the incoming Chinese missiles, and the SM-2 Aegis missiles would home
in on the radar energy reflected off the enemy missiles.

           
“Six missiles away forward,” the
tech reported. “Forward launcher secure and reporting clear, plenum status
normal, refire status normal. Counting down on aft launcher ... in three . . .
two . . . one . . . mark.”

           
The canister door on the aft
launcher flipped open and the first SM-2 fired . . .

           
But something happened.

           
Instead of shooting skyward, the
SM-2 rose about twenty feet above the launcher, the solid-propellant motor
stopped running, and the missile slipped backwards, crashed to the deck, and
exploded.

           
The concussion threw half of the
Aegis crew members to the deck. Feinemann was the only one able to react—he hit
the Hold Fire button to ensure that no other missiles from the aft launcher
tried to launch. “Status report!” he cried out. “Get me a status report!”

           
The damage-control alarm was ringing
throughout the
Bunker Hill,
and there
were a few seconds of momentary panic as the CIC lights went out, the emergency
lights finally clicked on, and a few purple wisps of smoke issued from the
ventilators, “Status report, dammit!”

           
Hart’s ears were ringing hard—from
the blast, the confusion, or the sudden disorientation of having the normally
steady deck heaving beneath him, he couldn’t tell which— but he managed to
straighten himself in his seat and help his tech up. Several ASTAB monitors had
gone down, and Feinemann’s LSDs were blank. “Mark 7 system is faulted . . .
both launchers shut down .. . SPY-1 is still on-line,” he reported. On the intercom,
he shouted, “Bridge, CIC, Mark 7 system fault, recommend immediate AAW command
transfer.”

           
“CIC, bridge, copy, command transfer
to
Sterett. ”
With SPY-1 still
operating, the cruiser
Sterett
could
act as pseudoAegis cruiser by receiving Aegis data via the Battle Group

           
Anti Aircraft Warfare Coordination
system on its Mk 76 weapons-control consoles.

           
The transfer was made, but far too
late.

           
Three C601 antiship missiles,
air-launched versions of the huge Silkworm missile, survived the Aegis
counterattack made by
Bunker Hill
and the Sea Sparrow antimissile barrage by
Sterett.
One missile was destroyed by
combined Sea Sparrow missile hits by
Sterett
and Phalanx Close-InWeapon System gunfire seconds before it reached
Bunker Hill,
and a second missile was destroyed
by a last-second burst of gunfire from the
Ranger's
portside Phalanx gun just a few hundred yards before striking the carrier . . .