At the exact same instant, nine other armored hatches popped open on the after-missile deck, and nine more surface-to-air missiles leapt into the sky. Dividing the missiles between the launchers was a standard consideration built into the Aegis computer program. By assigning the missiles in equal or nearly equal proportions from both launchers, the Aegis computers could maintain a measure of redundancy.
The Air Supervisor’s voice came over the net. “Splash one! Splash two! Splash three!” As he watched, the tally of destroyed missiles continued to mount. A few seconds later, he said, “Looks like we got ’em all!”
“Round One goes to Towers,” the TAO said quietly.
Round Two was only seconds in coming. “TAO — EW, here comes the second salvo! I have six active J-band radar seekers! Wait! Six more! I have twelve in-bound Vipers.”
The Air Supervisor confirmed the report immediately. “We’ve got them on SPY! I confirm, twelve Vipers in-bound!”
Captain Bowie keyed his mike. “Air — Captain. Backtrack the trajectories of those Vipers! I want to know where they’re coming from.
Break. Weapons Control, stand by on guns. As soon as we get some coordinates, I want you to pound the hell out of those missile launchers!”
“With pleasure, sir!”
The twelve new hostile-missile symbols appeared on the Aegis display screens and began to close on the ship’s symbol at alarming speed.
“TAO — Air. We’ve got party crashers, sir. Two Bogies inbound from the north. No modes, no codes, and no IFF.”
The TAO watched as two unknown-aircraft symbols popped up on the tactical display. “TAO, aye. What’s their flight profile?”
“They’re coming in low and fast, sir. They’re still over land, but I expect them to go feet-wet in about thirty seconds. In the meantime, they’re hugging the ground.”
“They’re trying to sneak in under our radar,” the XO said. “I guess their mamas didn’t tell them that SPY sees all the way down to the ground.”
“Air — TAO, copy all. Break. EW — TAO, can you classify those Bogies by their radar emitters?”
“TAO — EW, I could if they were showing me anything. So far, both of them have been as quiet as church mice.”
“Right out of the old Soviet tactical book,” the captain said. “Low, fast, and quiet. They won’t point their radar at us until they’re ready to illuminate us for missile-lock.”
“They meet all the requirements for an auto-engage,” the TAO said.
“Aegis will take them out as soon as they come into missile range.”
The captain shook his head. “Negative. Prohibit auto-engage on all Bogies.”
“But, sir,” the TAO said, “you said yourself they’re going to shoot us as soon as they get missile-lock.”
“We can’t shoot them,” the captain said. “Not now, anyway. The Rules of Engagement won’t let us. We can’t even technically classify them as hostile.”
“Captain, I don’t understand,” the TAO said. “The Sirajis have already launched two dozen missiles at us. What more do we need?”
“For one thing,” the captain said, “we don’t even know for certain that those planes are Siraji.”
“They’re coming out of Siraji airspace, and they’re flying strike profiles,” the TAO said.
“Not good enough,” the captain said. “We fly planes through Saudi air space all the time, but it doesn’t make our planes Saudi. As much as I hate to say it, under U.S. Rules of Engagement, flying low and fast without radar is not considered a hostile act. As soon as one of them launches or lights off his fire control radar, they all become fair game. Until then, keep an eye on them but concentrate on your Vipers.”
The TAO sighed. “Aye-aye, sir.”
Three hostile-missile symbols disappeared from the Aegis display screens.
“TAO — Air. Splash three more. Two of them got jammed, and the third one got suckered by chaff.”
“TAO, aye. Break. EW — TAO. Nice job. Stay on it.”
The ship gave a rapid sequence of shudders, accompanied by a series of thunderous roars.
“TAO — Weapons Control. Eighteen more birds away, no apparent casualties. Targeted two each on the inbound Vipers.”
“TAO, aye.”
A trio of red octagonal symbols appeared on the tactical display, each of them superimposed over a different part of the Siraji coast. “Captain — Radar Supervisor, I’ve got cross-fixes on three of the enemy missile launchers, sir!”
“Punch them into the link!” the captain said. “Weapons Control, you have batteries released. Engage those missile launchers, now!”
A few seconds later, the ship jerked as the 5-inch deck gun fired for the first time. The report of the big gun was astonishingly loud, even in the insulated confines of CIC. The gun quickly fell into a rhythm, punching out a high-explosive shell every three seconds, with a series of teeth-rattling booms.
The TAO keyed his mike. “Air — TAO. What’s going on with those inbound Bogies?”
“They’ve sheared off, sir, but they’re not bugging out. They’re staying outside of our engagement circle but just barely. I think they’re waiting for their shore-based Silkworm launchers to saturate our defenses. Or they could be hoping we’ll run out of missiles.”
The captain said, “At the rate we’re using up SM-3s, either one could be a good bet. Keep an eye on them, son. They might decide they want a piece of this fight at any second.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
On the Aegis displays, eighteen friendly-missile symbols merged with the nine flashing red symbols that represented inbound Vipers. For a few seconds, the converging array of symbols made a confusing knot on the screen, and then they began to disappear as the Aegis computers sorted out which missiles had been destroyed and which were still providing valid radar returns. When the display finished updating itself, only two missile symbols remained — both shown in flashing red.
“TAO — Air. Two of the Vipers have gotten past our first salvo of interceptors.” There was another quick series of shudders, followed by the thunder of launching missiles. “Four more birds away, no apparent casualties. Targeted two each on the inbound Vipers.”
“TAO, aye.”
Twenty seconds later, the interceptors merged with the inbound Vipers on the tactical display, and — when the display updated itself — one of the Viper symbols remained, still closing rapidly.
“Shit!” the Weapons Control Officer shouted. “TAO — Weapons Control, one of the Vipers got through. It’s kicked into terminal homing phase, and it’s too close to re-engage with missiles.”
“It’s up to CIWS, now,” the XO said.
As if in answer, the forward Close-In Weapon System locked onto the incoming missile and opened fire. The six-barreled Gatling gun rapped out a burst of 20mm tungsten rounds. Somewhere out in the darkness, a brief flash of exploding fuel announced the destruction of the Viper.
“TAO — Weapons Control. Got the bastard!”
“Good job,” the TAO said. “Break. Air — TAO, what’s the status of our Bogies?”
“They’re just inside our missile range, sir. And still circling.”
“Don’t lose track of them,” the TAO said. “And watch for more Vipers.”
The next missile attack wasn’t long in coming. “TAO — EW, I’ve got five more inbounds! Make that ten; they’re all getting off a second bird!”
“God damn it!” the Radar Supervisor shouted. “I’ve got ’em too!
Confirm, ten inbound Vipers! How many are they going to throw at us?”