Markey’s response was almost immediate: “I see it! I see it! High above us… it’s passing over us…”
A flash of light caught Kelly’s attention — to his horror, he noticed the flash was one of his own decoy flares. The hot phosphorus blob seemed to float just a few yards alongside the American fighter. It was bright enough to attract the enemy missile. “Stop ejecting flares!” Kelly screamed. “It’ll follow us down…!”
But it was too late.
In his panic, Markey kept on ejecting decoy flares as the Tomcat continued its break and dive, and the trail of flares caused the Chinese Pen Lung-9 heat-seeking missile to snap down in the wake of the Tomcat, where it reacquired the F-14’s hot exhaust and finished its deadly voyage. The PL-9’s twenty-two-pound high-explosive warhead detonated on contact, shredding both engines instantly and destroying the Tomcat long before the crew had a chance to eject.
The Combat Information Center in an Aegis-class guided missile cruiser was like sitting in a giant big-screen video arcade. Four operators — the embarked group commander of the Ranger battle group and his assistant plus the TAO, or tactical action officer, and his assistant — each sat in front of two 42-inch-square, four-color computer screens that showed the entire Ranger battle group, using computer-generated symbology and digitized coastal maps, creating a “big picture” of the entire battle area and highlighting friendly and enemy vessels and aircraft in relation to the fleet and any nearby political boundaries. The incredible MK-7 Aegis weapon system could track and process over one hundred different targets beyond five hundred miles in range by integrating radar information from other surface, land, or airborne search radars; the SPY-1 phased-array radar on the Bunker Hill itself had a range of almost two hundred miles and could spot a sea-skimming missile on the horizon at a range of over forty miles. Aegis was designed to defend a large carrier battle group from dense and complicated enemy air and sea assault by integrating the entire group’s air-defense network into a single display and control area, and then providing long-range, high-speed decision-making and automatic-weapon employment for not only the Aegis cruiser’s weapon itself, but for all the ships of the battle group — Bunker HilPs Aegis system could control the weapons of all the Ranger's battle group.
It all sounded complicated, very high-tech, and foolproof — but at that moment, staring down the barrel of a gun, it did not seem very foolproof.
The Aegis air-defense system was designed to have the battle group commander and the ship’s commanding officer direct fleet defense from the Tactical Flag Command Center, but with an aircraft carrier in the group and a rather tightly packed deployment of ships, the Ranger battle group commander, Rear Admiral Conner Walheim, was aboard Ranger consulting directly with the carrier’s officers, so his deputy for antiaircraft warfare, Captain Richard Feinemann, was on the Aegis console. And because the Bunker HilPs skipper preferred to stay on the bridge during such operations, the ship’s Tactical Action Officer was representing him on the Aegis console.
Lieutenant Commander Paul Hart was the Bunker Hill’s TAC, and the Aegis system was his pride and joy — while the captain preferred to stay on the bridge during these engagements and monitor them on his ASTAB automated status board monitors, Hart was in his element in the dark, rather claustrophobic confines on the CIC. Feinemann was a lot like Hart’s skipper — he was a boat driver who had little patience for the dazzling and sometimes confusing array of electronic gadgets deep within the heart of a warship. He was an ex-destroyer skipper and antisubmarine-warfare action group commander who had spent a length of time on shore studying newer antiair radar integration systems such as Aegis, but had little actual experience of it. Although Hart was the Aegis expert, Feinemann was still in overall command of antiair fleet defense and would command all antiair assets in the group from Bunker Hill.
The big LSDs, or large-screen displays, were a bit intimidating for Feinemann, so he had his data-input technician give him a constant verbal readout of significant events on the screen while he tried to keep up. The data-input officer made a comment to Feinemann, prefaced with a short expletive, and the group AAW officer scanned the screen in momentary confusion — both because he couldn’t spot the event and because no one in Bunker Hill's CIC seemed very excited. “We’ve lost contact with one of our fighters?” Feinemann asked incredulously.
“Yes, sir,” Hart responded. “That B-6 must’ve got him before Bullet Three could take a shot. It was a long-range crossing snapshot, too — he must’ve been carrying PL-9 missiles.”
Feinemann stared at Hart in complete surprise, wondering what in hell the young officer was babbling about.
Hart continued. “Those C601 missiles got past both the Tomcats and the Phoenix missiles.” He turned to the tactical-alert intercom and radioed, “Bridge, CIC, I show four inbounds, altitude seven hundred feet, speed five hundred fifty knots, bearing two-niner-seven, range forty-two miles and closing, Charlie-601 antiship missiles. One bandit turning outbound, range now six-seven miles.” To his communications officer he said, “I need all Bullet aircraft to stay clear. Have Basket take them northwest for their refueling and to counter the new inbound bandits, but tell Basket to keep them away from my engagement lane. If Ranger launches the ready-alert birds, make sure Hawkeye or Basket takes them well north.”
“How do you know those are C601 missiles, and how do you know those were Chinese B-6 bombers, son?” Feinemann snapped. “You’re making reports-to your bridge on enemy aircraft that, as far as I can see, you have absolutely no information to make. You’re also chasing away three air-defense fighters from possible engagements without knowing all the facts.”
“The flight profiles, sir,” Hart explained patiently. “They launched two missiles each from over a hundred miles’ range — that’s too far for a C801. Those missiles climbed first, but now they’re descending to about a hundred feet, and they’re cruising at about six hundred knots — typical profile of a C601 missile…”
“It’s also the profile of an Exocet, a Harpoon, or a Soviet AS-5 missile, or any number of antiship missiles,” Feinemann pointed out, his eyes narrowing on Hart.
“If we were facing off against the French or the Soviets, I’d agree, sir,” Hart replied. “The reports from the recon plane say that a Chinese EF4-class ship was in the area and that Chinese troops invaded Mindanao; I’d assume that the fighters and these missiles are Chinese. My guess is still a C601, and that’s what I’ll assume when we begin responding.
“As far as the carrier aircraft — each plane was carrying two missiles plus air-to-air weapons, and it was doing some heavy active jamming, not just uplink trackbreaking. That’s too much payload for a J-7, B-7, or Q-5 fighter — it has to be a B-6 Badger bomber.
“And as far as the Tomcats are concerned, I want them out of the way. Aegis can prosecute sea-skimming targets better than a Tomcat, and I’m not worried about enemy fighters right now — I’m worried about those missiles. In sixty seconds I’ll start worrying about the inbound fighters.” Hart was expecting a reply; when he got none, he added, “Sir, I need clearance to release batteries and engage when those missiles cross the horizon.”
“Your captain might be impressed with your amateur intelligence analysis, Commander Hart,” Feinemann said irritably, “but the Admiral needs concrete data before he can commit any forces under his command. He can’t operate on guesses.”