"Sound general quarters," Edgewater ordered, then looked to Clancy, waiting for a countermand or change. Instead he got: "Launch alert flight Romeo to intercept and get Whiskey One on the catapults. Send the cruiser Mississippi northwest to follow the Tomcats to assist. Broadcast messages on all frequencies warning all aircraft within four hundred miles to identify themselves or we will fire without further warning."
"Aye, sir."
Clancy slapped his hands together as his aide handed him a life jacket and helmet.
"Nimitz, this is Armstrong. We're showing aircraft heading your way. Do you copy?"
"We got 'em, Jason," Clancy radioed back. A happy warrior now. "You guys spotted 'em a full three hundred miles before Aegis would have even known they were there. You may have just saved this battle group. Well done."
Saint-Michael took a deep breath. "Thanks, Admiral. We'll be maintaining surveillance for another one-five minutes. Let's hope the Russians don't get too feisty while we're on the back side of our orbit."
"That's up to us. Thanks again on this end. Nimitz clear."
"Luck, Admiral. Armstrong out."
"I am showing ninety seconds to launch point," Tretyak announced. "Acknowledged, copilot," the bombardier replied, inside the dark bombardier cubicle a few meters behind Tretyak. Khabarovsk glanced across the narrow aisle to the defensive-systems operator, pulled, a flask from his boot and took a long pun. But he wasn't quick enough about it: the electronic warfare officer, First Lieutenant Artemskiy, spotted him. Khabarovsk thought he'd be in big trouble. To his surprise, Artemskiy nodded toward his own electronics countermeasure cubicle behind the pilot and opened his two gloved hands. Khabarovsk expertly tossed the flask into them.
Artemskiy unscrewed the flask and sniffed the contents. Not vodka? He swirled it around, glanced at Khabarovsk. The bombardier rolled his palm over his stomach.
"Coming up to missile-launch point."
"Acknowledged." Khabarovsk gave Artemskiy a thumbs-up and carefiilly rechecked his switch positions for missile launch. "Checklist complete. Ready for launch commit and ten-second alignment countdown."
"Ruzian flight, Ruzian flight," Budanova, the pilot, called over the air-to-air radio, "launch commit. Repeat, launch commit." Bombardier Khabarovsk moved the LAUNCH COMMIT button to the COMMIT position.
Artemskiy returned Khabarovsk's salute, then nodded at the flask. One sip couldn't hurt. They were still miles away from the extreme range of the Americans' radar. He tipped the flask up to his lips—
A threat-waming buzzer sounded on his panel. Startled, Aremskiy dumped a mouthful of home-made distilled grain alcohol straight down his trachea and into his lungs. "Defense section. Threat warning. Bearing and type immediately."
Artemskiy upchucked onto his tiny workshelf beneath his electronics console, but it did little good — he couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. The flask clattered down his flightsuit, drenching his pants leg and deck with alcohol.
"Defense. Report. Bearing and type to threat." Still no reply.
"Ruzian flight, evasive maneuver Echo-five-echo. Execute."
"Negative," Khabarovsk called out. "Still five seconds to go on missile countdown…"
"Disregard missile countdown, bombardier. Place your missile in countdown hold and get ready to launch after we roll out. Defense, give me a bearing on the threat."
But it was already too late. The lead pilot's only evasive maneuver in a line-abreast cruise-missile launch formation was a hard pushover to a three-"g" dive for the safety of the sea, and because he would be on the same heading during the maneuver the push had to occur immediately after threat detection. He did not have time to ask for bearings or give orders. Just at the point he decided to execute the evasive maneuver a U.S. Navy AIM-54 Phoenix missile struck the Backfire bomber's right-wing root and sent the one-hundred-fifty-ton bomber to a fiery crash in the Arabian Sea.
Attacking from one hundred miles away with long-range Phoenix missiles, six F-14E Tomcat Plus fighters from the USS Nimitz screamed toward the scattering Backfire bombers. The Phoenix missiles were relatively less reliable launched at their extreme range limit, but even though only one Phoenix missile found its target the attack achieved its effect. The AS-6 cruise missile required a steady launch platform within narrowly defined acceleration limits ten seconds before launch, and all six of the Backfire bombers had immediately exceeded those limits.
The devastation continued after the Tomcats closed in. With no internal bomb bay and the AS-12 antiradar missiles installed on the underside intake weapon stations, the Backfire's limiting speed was Mach 1.5, but the bombers were already at Mach one before they began their evasive maneuvers. As soon as they started their emergency descents for the safety of the radar clutter of the sea, they reached and then exceeded the normal weapons limits. The fortunate ones jettisoned the AS-12 and AS-6 missiles before reaching the emergency carriage speed limit of Mach 1.8; the rest found their supersonic bombers shaking themselves to pieces and their AS-12 missiles ripping free of their weakened pylons.
Of the original six-bomber attack force, three survived the initial F-14 Tomcat attack that had seemed to come out of nowhere. Of these three, one was chased down and destroyed by a medium-range Sidewinder heat-seeking missile. A second failed to jettison its AS-12 missiles, one of which ripped free of its pylon and struck the horizontal stabilizer, making the aircraft spin out of control.
The remaining Backfire bomber ended its evasive maneuver immediately after beginning it, realigned its AS-6 cruise missile and launched it seconds before two Tomcats hit it with three air-to-air missiles. The AS-6 missile, riding a long, bright yellow column of fire, sped skyward, leveled off at fifty thousand feet and went southeast at Mach three. The American Tomcats had no hope of chasing it down.
But the AS-6 missile tracked directly over the guided missile cruiser USS Mississippi, which had been trailing the Tomcats from the Nimitz and had been tracking the AS-6 almost since launch. It brought both of its fore-and-aft Mark 26 dual-rail vertical launchers to bear and fired a salvo of four SM2-ER Standard missiles at the speeding AS-6 cruise missile. The AS-6, in spite of its advanced design, accuracy and awesome destructive power, was still not capable of any evasive maneuvers; flying at high altitude and in a straight line toward its target, it also made itself an inviting target. The U.S. defense missiles intercepted the Soviet cruise missile several seconds later.
"Bridge, CIC. Aegis reporting radar-contact aircraft bearing one-five-zero true, range three-one-five, closing fast. Multiple inbounds. "
Well, the fleet wouldn't have Silver Tower to help them out on this one, Admiral Clancy thought as he and Captain Edgewater paced the bridge of the USS Nimitz, dividing their attention between flight-deck operations and the Aegis battle-management radar-repeater scope.
Edgewater studied the scope. "We've got Tango flight on patrol to the southeast, Admiral. Four Tomcats." He picked up the phone to CIC. "Combat, this is Edgewater. Got a count on those inbounds?"
"Negative, sir. So far only three targets, high altitude, fast moving, within two hundred miles of our cruiser South Carolina's position."
"Better get another flight airborne to back up Tango against those inbounds," Clancy told Edgewater. "I don't believe the Arkhangel's only sending up three planes. It's more than likely three formations- two attack and one fighter escort…"
"Aye, sir. " Edgewater replaced the phone to CIC and picked up the phone to flight operations: "Air ops, this is the bridge. Get Whiskey One airborne and Sierra on deck. Send Whiskey One to back up Tango."