“Guys, we are staying zip-lip on this transit. Total no-damn-kidding EMCON until further notice. No emissions out. We want to stay ‘invisible’ as long as we can. And… we are going to fly.”
Wilson expected they would fly on the long voyage across, and realized the risks involved. Blue Water Ops, big time, with no divert fields, the nearest one hundreds of miles over open ocean, and not just any ocean. The vast North Pacific, cold and unstable, with ever changing weather.
“Blower, need you to maintain this course and speed—”
Johnson was interrupted by his Operations Officer. “Excuse me, sir, but this just in: A Chinese J-11 collided with a P-8 off Blood Moon. No survivors.”
Ho-lee shit, Wilson thought as the others murmured their shock and amazement. Two airplanes were down with heavy loss of life, and both sides would blame the other. Wilson visualized Mary learning of the news — the incident would be wall-to-wall on broadcast media. He knew she would know what this meant for her husband. The Cape Esperance and John Adams incidents were serious enough, but this latest incident proved to Wilson that the Chinese meant to keep the United States out of the SCS. Wilson had also been in long enough to know that the United States would probably confront them and would task him to do it.
Johnson sat stunned for a moment, but the Ops O had more. “Sir, we have a video.”
“Wow. Okay, play it, please.”
A screen was lowered as the officers spoke among themselves. Johnson read the dispatch: Two J-11s flew in front of the P-8 almost 100 miles from Blood Moon Atoll.
Johnson’s aide hit PLAY on the video remote, and the sharp black-and-white image of the P-8 came into view. Clouds filled the background, and the aircraft was stable with the Triton’s crosshairs on it. From the lower left side of the screen, the two J-11s came into view, and fewer than two seconds later, the wingman flew into the nose of the P-8. The result was a shower of flame and debris.
The admiral had the tape replayed again and again, freezing it at key points. Wilson studied it and thought out loud.
“Looks like the P-8 pushed down in a last-ditch move at the end. They saw it coming.”
“That’s what I thought,” Johnson said. They studied it some more, this time analyzing the Chinese aircraft. Blower spoke up.
“I don’t think the wingman was looking at anything except his lead, who scraped him off on the P-8. Look at the wing overlap he had on him. It didn’t change; he was locked on his lead. Amazing that the lead escaped the frag.”
The Big Unit nodded and turned to Wilson. “Flip?”
“Whatever they were doing, sir, it was overly aggressive and unprofessional. They caused the collision, no question.”
“Concur,” Johnson said. He had his aide secure the video before they returned to the meeting agenda.
“Okay, even before this incident, INDOPACOM pulled everything out of WESTPAC west of Guam, north of Singapore, and south of Okinawa. Except subs, and I’ll bet there’s at least one in the South China Sea. We’re gonna reset everything east. Then, when we have all our forces in theater, we will go in and roll them back with the Japanese and Aussies helping. We expect Vietnam’s help once we get to the SCS.”
“Rolling them back, sir?” Wilson asked.
“Yes. Here’s the tasking from Admiral Clark,” Johnson said. “This is going to be an air-sea fight, and we are going to attrite their warships and aircraft where found. Other than around Aden and East Africa, they don’t have anything outside their near seas. We’re going to form task forces around us and Les Aspin—which right now is approaching Ceylon. It looks like they’re going to come up through Malacca, and we’ll come down between Taiwan and the PI.”
“How about John Adams, sir?” Blower asked. “Any plan to get her involved?”
The Big Unit pursed his lips. “With only half a crew, she’s not combat capable. But she has aircraft, and she can operate in a limited role, so she may be able to help, as a parts locker if nothing else.” He then turned to Blower.
“Blower, you’re getting a COD hit in two days.”
Leaf raised his eyebrows. “Out here, sir? We’ll be near the International Date line then.”
“Yep, and, Flip, you are getting some new toys.”
Johnson motioned to his aide, and a briefing slide came up on the screen.
“Flip, have you heard of the hybrid cluster weapon Aircraft Weapons Division is working on at China Lake? Advanced Area Denial Munition? AADM?” Wilson nodded.
“Yes, sir. Launch high and fast, and at a set range it releases precision submunitions that can loiter, acquire a target, and then dive into it.”
“Correct. These AADMs weigh about 600 pounds, have a rocket boost, and you can launch them from a Rhino wing station. If you release it at a high transonic airspeed in the thirties, you can get it out to 100 plus miles. It has a passive IR tracker that can ID surface contacts and send images back here or to a P-8. The submunitions have a small charge, and they can screw up topside antennas, aircraft on deck, weapons launchers, and the like. We are getting twelve preproduction test articles.”
“On the COD, sir? Live ordnance?”
Yep, we have a waiver from PACFLEET himself. And there’s more…”
Wilson smiled. “Yes, sir, we like toys.”
“China Lake is also working on a black box called HAVE REEL that can take an enemy radar signal and multiply it so that it shows up on the enemy display as if there are 10, 20, 30 of you. Which one is really you? Answering that question is going to mess with their long-range missile targeting. That’s the good news, and we are getting 24 of them. The bad news is this new toy doesn’t make us invisible, and doesn’t do anything to spoof IR sensors.”
Wilson nodded. He was aware of HAVE REEL and knew it could allow his fighters to penetrate deeper into enemy defenses, deep enough to get off the first shot or deliver a launch-and-leave weapon. Both of these untested capabilities would help Wilson — if they worked — but he would have to ration the black boxes among his 40 plus fighters and save the silver bullet glide bombs for the toughest long-range targets.
“Blower, how are we doing on our PIM?” Johnson asked his carrier captain.
“Sir, we are an hour or two behind PIM, and if we don’t have to zigzag too much to avoid traffic we can make that up. Checked the satellite display before the meeting. About noon it looks like we’re going to encounter a tanker coming out of Valdez bound for Oahu. So we’ve come right five degrees, and by the time we get closest-point-of-approach, he’ll be forty miles south of us.”
“American ship?”
“American owned, Panamanian flag. Ocean Sunbeam.”
“Roger that. Again, I cannot emphasize enough that we have to remain undetected for as long as possible so we can get in a position to hit them unaware — if it comes to that — and I think, after this latest incident, it is going to come to that. Flip, make sure our helo scouts keep their distance from any surface traffic and not expose themselves. And for all of you, we are in no-shit EMCON. No emissions, no radar tests on deck, no radio checks. We are in receive-mode only. Flip, gotta make your guys smart on that and the threat they’ll face. I think we are going to see everything the PLA owns. Get ready.”
All at the table nodded. They continued to discuss the maintenance health of the airplanes, weapons in magazines, equipment status — all the myriad details involving a carrier and strike group heading to possible war. As they discussed the deteriorating weather, Johnson’s aide brought him a new message, which he read aloud.