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"What a sight," Scott said as his fears began to dissipate. "All we have to do is get aboard."

"No comment."

Jiangxi Province, China

At one of the remote control centers for ICBMs, Lt. Gen. Chen Bodong had given the launching sites for the DF-5 long-range nuclear missiles the signal to launch on his command. Final fueling was under way and the countdown would soon begin.

After receiving confirmation from the DF-5 site commanders, the general notified the officer in charge of the detachment in Manchuria to prepare the DF-31s for launch.

Chapter 33

USS Kitty Hawk

Because of the rough sea conditions, the flight deck was moving up and down plus or minus twelve feet with a dangerous Dutch roll, a combination directional-lateral oscillation. Due to the unpredictable gyrations, the pitching deck had caused an unusually high number of wave-offs and bolters all evening.

The deck crew couldn't rig the barricade until a Hornet with a hydraulic malfunction had trapped. The pilot had to make two attempts to get aboard the carrier, but the second try was flawless. After the F/A-18 was safely on deck, the crew quickly removed the four arresting wires and moved Tilly into position.

The 130,000-pound crash crane is placed in the rollout area abeam the carrier's island. If a plane goes through the highly reinforced barricade, Tilly is there to stop the aircraft before it can do any damage to other planes parked on the bow.

The deck crew raised the jet-blast deflectors for the port and starboard bow catapults as a final measure of protection for the many aircraft spotted on the bow.

Off to the right side of the ship's island, an SH-60 Seahawk helicopter on plane-guard duty was keeping pace with the ship. The helo carried a rescue swimmer who would be available to assist the occupants of the civilian plane if it went into the water.

The commander of the air wing, known by the time-honored acronym GAG (commander of the air group), was on the bridge conferring with the captain. Having been personally briefed by the commander in chief, U.S. Pacific Fleet, they knew why it was so important to safely recover this civilian plane.

Along the starboard foul-deck line, more than a hundred deck crewman and air-wing personnel waited for the signal to go into action.

"Rig the barricade!" a booming voice said over the flight-deck 5MC. "This is not a drill!"

The crew locked the deck plates and hooked a tractor up to pull the barricade from the storeroom. They quickly began hauling the barricade across the landing area.

"We have a plane at ten miles," the loud voice said over the 5MC. "Let's hustle — let's move out!"

After a couple of snags that consumed precious time, the crew finally managed to stretch the barricade across the landing area.

The air boss in PRI-FLY, the carrier's control tower, patiently searched for the Learjet's external lights. He turned to his assistant, nicknamed the "miniboss."

"This should be very interesting — considering the sea conditions."

"At least he's a tailhooker."

"Yeah, he wouldn't have a prayer otherwise."

NORAD

General Bancroft and his deputy commander watched the clock, counting the minutes until the deadline was up.

Kurtis Wentworth was tired and irritable. "This may turn into World War Three, but if it sets China back fifty years they'll know why."

"That's for sure," Bancroft said glumly. "He made a demand in front of thousands of people, including the media — that's what we're seeing over and over. He may be unable to back away from this terrible decision."

The Learjet

Descending through two thousand feet, Jackie and Scott began stowing loose objects.

She looked down at the rough seas and whitecaps. "What are you going to use for a pattern altitude?"

"Eight hundred feet."

They descended through fourteen hundred feet and began to experience some light-to-moderate turbulence.

"What's a good approach speed?" she asked.

"Let's see — engine out, landing on a carrier, rough seas, gusty winds, night approach, I'd say a hundred forty knots should do it."

"Seat of the pants."

"It hasn't failed me yet."

At six miles from the ship, the mission systems operator in the Hawkeye called and gave them a VHF frequency to contact Kitty Hawk. The carrier's air traffic controllers had been informed that the Learjet was single engine and critical on fuel. After Scott checked in with the ship, he was handed off to the carrier-air-group landing signal officer.

Having been briefed about Dalton's background as a tailhooker, the senior LSO had a question for the former Marine aviator. "Have you ever made a barricade arrestment?"

"Negative," Scott said, trying to recall everything he had been taught during carrier qualifications in the training command.

"I understand you've lost an engine?"

"That's correct — literally."

CAG Paddles, the controlling LSO, gave Scott a quick brief on flying the ball for a barricade engagement. In the background Jackie and Scott could hear the muffled shouts coming from the flight deck. It sounded like a zany Three Stooges scene.

"One more thing," the LSO said. "How much is your gross weight, including fuel?"

"About eleven thousand five hundred pounds, including approximately four hundred pounds of fuel."

"Did you say four hundred pounds of fuel?"

"Affirmative."

"Okay," Paddles said, watching the ship's fantail dance back and forth. "We're going to keep this approach in close."

Scott took a peek at the fuel. "The tighter, the better."

"You got it, Sport."

The ship's 5MC could be heard over the radio. "Emergency aircraft at three miles. Let's get into battery."

Surrounded by two fellow LSOs, Paddles talked into the radio more forcefully to overcome the gusty wind and chaos on the dark flight deck. "I'm going to have you start your approach amidships."

"Copy." Scott looked at Jackie. "Since we don't have headsets, and we're using microphones, I suggest you talk on the radio."

"Yeah, you'll be busy." She stared at the carrier as it plowed through the huge waves. "I'll take care of communicating — you get us on deck in one piece."

"Sounds like a winner." He made a slight power adjustment to the left engine, lowered the flaps, and extended the landing gear. She rechecked the gear down. "Landing lights?"

"No, it might blind the LSO — we don't want that." He gave her a brief smile. "Try not to worry."

"Absolutely — hadn't even thought about it," she said, and shook her head. "This would be crazy in perfect conditions."

"I can understand your concern," he said as he began to slow the plane to the approach speed of 140 KIAS. "Except for riding in the COD, you've never flown from the deck of a carrier."

She looked at him and rolled her eyes heavenward. "You think that might have something to do with it?"

The rig master, a grizzled flight-deck veteran, was guiding the deck-crew and air-wing personnel in erecting the barricade. They connected the upper and lower port terminals and pulled the barricade to the other side to connect the load straps. Next the crew began taking tension until the barricade was in place.

The rig master saw the Learjet's lights when the plane was approximately one mile away. He turned around to watch his crew. The barricade cross-deck pendant was finally placed into battery. With a quick glance at the Learjet the rig master knew he was in trouble.

He yelled for the crew to start raising the barricade. Unbeknownst to him there was a problem with the barricade cross-deck pendant. It was damaged and had to be replaced.