“Because we wouldn’t have to truck three thousand miles to find out the Chinese are moving a big convoy into Zamboanga,” Fruntz said.
Blanchard remained unimpressed.
Fruntz continued: “Look at this: PACER SKY is telling us there might be defensive missile batteries set up on the eastern shore of Jolo Island or Pata Island, in the middle of the Sulu Archipelago. See that? That’s the kind of info we need before we drive into the area.”
“Well, I guess it doesn’t make that much difference, because we’re still going to drive into that area,” Blanchard said. “If there’s a SAM site or radar on those islands, they’re not going to turn ’em on until we get closer.”
“It beats getting surprised,” Fruntz insisted. “I’d rather be ready for a radar to come up than have the bejeezus scared out of us.”
“I like surprises,” Blanchard said, but then added quickly, “Sam, you go into these sorties expecting the shit to hit the fan at any time. Too much information, and you start getting complacent. You gotta be ready for anything. Expect the unexpected…”
“Radar four reports surface contact,” one of the radar operators suddenly called out. “Slow velocity… now showing ten knots, heading westbound.”
“There’s something that NIRTSat thing didn’t find,” Blanchard snickered. “No matter how gee-whiz that satellite is, thirty-minute-old data is still thirty-minute-old data — and it’s garbage to us.” She turned to the radar operator and said, “I need a designation on that last contact, Radar. Get on it.”
“Signal two shows primary search radar on that surface contact,” another operator called out. “Showing C-band, three-seventy PRF… calling it a Rice Screen air-search radar…”
“Radar four has an ISAR probable on that return, calling it a EF4-class destroyer… now picking up escorts, probably as many as four, within ten miles of EF4.” The ISAR, or Inverse Synthetic Aperture Radar, mounted in the two prominent fairings on the underside of the RC-135’s fuselage, could paint a nearly three-dimensional picture of a ship and, by combining it with a computer data base of thousands of such radar images, could usually match the radar image with a ship in its computer memory. The larger the ship, the more accurate the match, and a destroyer-class vessel was a very large radar return.
“Jeez, they got some pretty fancy firepower out here,” Blanchard said. “A destroyer-class boat this far south.” She turned to the forward part of the aircraft. “Comm, code and send immediately to Andersen and Offutt on separate channels the position of that last contact. It’s the biggest gun the Chinese have this far south — I want to make sure everybody knows about it.” To the radar operator, she asked, “What’s our range to that EF4?”
“Range, four-seven nautical miles,” the operator reported.
“That’s close enough,” Blanchard said to Fruntz. Fruntz was already leafing through pages of computerized text on the EF4 class of Chinese destroyers. “What’s the scouting report on those things?”
“Antiship and antisubmarine missile destroyers,” Fruntz read. “About ten in the Chinese inventory, possibly with five more in ready reserve and five more overseas. Helicopter pad, big-time antiship launchers… holy shit, listen to this gun fit: four 130-millimeter dual purpose, eight 57-millimeter or 37-millimeter antiaircraft guns, and four 25-millimeter antiaircraft guns. Rice Screen three-D long-range air-defense radar system — they call it a ‘mini-Aegis’ system — X-band ERF-1 or X-band Rice Lamp fire-control radar for the guns. Some fitted with Phalanx self-defense guns, Ku-band radar.”
“Anything about antiair missiles?”
“Yes… helicopter pad removed from some vessels and replaced with various stem-mounted missile systems,” Fruntz replied. “Some fitted possibly with HQ-61 missiles, one twin mount, Fog Lamp H- or I-band fire control, max range of missile, six nautical miles — pretty small missile. Others possibly with French naval Crotale, max range eight nautical miles, X-band fire control. Some with HQ-91 French Masurca dual-rail mount… shit, max range thirty nautical miles, S-band pulse-Doppler tracker.”
“As far as we’re concerned, we’ll assume the worst case,”
Blanchard said. “Forty miles out from that EF4 is perfect for now.” She paused for a moment, then added, “But that Rice Screen radar has me worried. That’s a no-shit early warning and fighter intercept radar system. Why have a boat with that kind of radar on board way out here unless—”
“Flashlight, Flashlight, Flashlight, this is Basket,” the radio report interrupted. Basket was the call sign of the E-3C Sentry Airborne Warning and Control System radar plane that had accompanied the RC-135 on this mission. The AWACS plane could scan for hundreds of miles in all directions, locating aircraft at all altitudes and vector friendly fighters in to intercept. Emergency reports from an AWACS controller were always prefaced by calling out a sortie’s call sign three times — the RC-135 was under attack. “Bandits at your twelve o’clock, Blue plus five-five, flight level zero-niner-zero, speed five hundred.”
Range calls were always given in color codes in case the enemy fighters somehow were able to eavesdrop on the encrypted radio messages between aircraft; Blue meant fifty miles, Yellow meant twenty miles, Red meant zero miles, and Green meant subtract twenty miles. When a dogfight started, the controller would drop the color codes and issue warnings as fast as he could. All radar targets were being called “bandits,” or hostile targets, in this area with Chinese troops nearby — of course, anytime a target began flying over five hundred knots, it was automatically considered an enemy fighter until proven otherwise.
“Showing four targets now, Blue plus forty, speed passing five-zero-zero. Bullet flight, take spacing and stand by.” The AWACS plane not only issued warnings to Flashlight, the RC-135X plane, but also to Shamu Three-One, the KC-10 aerial refueling tanker that was supporting both the Navy and Air Force planes on this mission; two KA-6 Navy tankers to use as tactical spare refueling aircraft; and four Navy F-14A Tomcat fighters of VF-2 Bullets from the USS Ranger, which was steaming about one hundred miles east of Talaud Island just outside Indonesian waters. The Tomcats were armed with four medium-range Sparrow radar-guided missiles and four shorter-range Sidewinder heat-seeking missiles; since they were along only as escorts and, according to the Rules of Engagement, not authorized to attack from long range, none of the escorts carried the long-range AIM-54 Phoenix missile.
Two of the F-14s, Bullet Four and Five, were with the RC-135 acting as primary escorts, and the other two, Bullet Two and Three, were shuttling to the KC-10 tanker for refueling. Four more F-14 fighters were ready aboard Ranger, loaded with long-range Phoenix missiles as well as Sparrows and Sidewinders, to assist the Air Force recon planes and defend the battle group in case of trouble…
… And it sounded like there was going to be trouble. With unknown aircraft heading their way, this was no place to be for one of the U.S. Air Force’s most sophisticated spy planes. The data was important, but not important enough to risk the manpower or the hardware. “Time to leave, Grasshopper. We’re calling it a night,” Blanchard said. Being flippant about a possible fighter attack usually wasn’t her style, but she had found after pushing a crew for so long that the initial wave of excitement that hit a crewman who suddenly found himself or herself under attack sometimes caused costly mistakes; if you could relax a person during that initial fear-heavy period, he performed better.