“That’s correct,” Bowie said. “The Fenno has already expended 80 missiles — the majority of her inventory — so she’ll be sticking with the Midway to provide cover. That leaves the Towers and the Gerrard to stick around and do the dirty work.”
He took a swallow of coffee and set his cup down. “That pretty much defines our mission parameters. Now all we need is a plan for carrying it out.”
No one spoke for several minutes as everyone mulled over the problem and searched for a workable tactical approach.
Again, it was Commander Silva who broke the silence. “I think we should run like hell,” she said. “The Midway is pulling out, and we should go too. Full retreat. Admit that we got our asses kicked, and run home.”
Three or four people started to respond, but Bowie held up a hand. “Go on…”
Silva looked at the shocked and puzzled faces around the table. She didn’t speak immediately, enjoying the moment of incredulous silence.
“I was just thinking about Sun Tzu,” she said finally. “That famous piece from The Art of War, where he talks about all warfare being based on deception… Attacking when you appear to be unable, and making yourself seem far away when you’re near. I never bothered to memorize that passage, but the concept applies pretty well to our current situation.”
No one responded, so she continued. “The Chinese blasted the hell out of the INS Vikrant. The Indian navy responded by pulling their carrier battle group all the way up the northern end of the bay, where it can draw on their coastal defenses and shore-based air cover. That’s a reasonable response. When you get your fingers burned, you pull your hand away from the fire. Well… The Chinese have blasted the hell out of our carrier too, and they know that we haven’t lost an aircraft carrier in combat since World War II. They also know how important carriers are to our national deterrence. If we circle the wagons and escort our carrier out of the danger zone, I’m betting they’ll interpret that as a reasonable response too.”
Bowie nodded. “Continue…”
“So,” Commander Silva said, “we maintain our places in the defensive screen, and cover the Midway’s retreat from the Bay of Bengal, until…”
The XO slapped his palm on the table. “Until we reach the passage through the Nicobar Islands. Then, the Midway continues through into the Andaman Sea, while we break off and haul ass down the coast — using the sea traffic and the radar clutter of the island chain to mask our run to the south.”
Silva smiled. “You catch on fast, Brian.”
The other officers began exchanging interested glances.
Bowie nodded appreciatively. “We could make our final approach after sunset tomorrow evening. Go in dark and quiet — full EMCON, and full stealth mode.”
“Exactly,” Silva said. “If we do it right, we can get all the way inside their defensive perimeter. Then, we open up and blow their doors off.”
Lieutenant Meyer grinned. “I like the way you think, ma’am. You’re one sneaky bitch.”
The executive officer shot her a look. “Lieutenant…”
The Operations Officer raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry, XO, but I couldn’t think of what else to say. Sneaky bastard didn’t seem to fit, and son-of-a-bitch just isn’t right…”
The XO pounded the table. “That’s enough, Lieutenant!”
The Ops Officer grimaced. “Sorry, XO. It won’t happen again, sir.” She turned toward Commander Silva. “No disrespect intended, ma’am.”
The XO looked like he was going to say something further, but Captain Bowie spoke up again. ‘I think it’s an excellent plan, Commander Silva. Let’s work out the details, and then I’ll take it to the admiral.”
The tactical discussion began in earnest.
About ten minutes into it, the exchange with Lieutenant Meyer popped into Silva’s head again, and she had to suppress a grin. Sneaky bitch… She could live with that.
CHAPTER 46
The flashing amber light caught Chao Péng’s attention immediately. He tapped the button to acknowledge the alert, pre-empting the alarm buzzer that was programmed to sound if the warning went unanswered for more than five seconds.
Chao’s rank was Xia Shi, the Chinese equivalent to the rank of technical sergeant. He was good at his job, and proud of it. He had been a radar intercept operator for three years, and the alarm had never once sounded while he was on watch. The computer had never caught him napping, and he was determined that it never would.
With a brief flurry of keystrokes, Chao summoned up the system alert queue and scrolled through the flight characteristics of the new target. The data glowed bright red on the screen of his console.
Parked at the center of a circle of six mobile KS-1A missile launchers, the H-200 passively-scanned electronic array was a highly-effective radar sensor. The slab-shaped phased-array antenna was capable of detecting, identifying, and tracking three simultaneous air targets, and it could launch and control up to six interceptor missiles.
The H-200’s sensitivity was both a blessing and a curse. It made the radar very difficult to hide from, but it also resulted in a high number of false target alerts. The system latched on to commercial airliners and private aircraft with almost monotonous regularity.
Chao had little doubt that this latest inbound target alert would turn out to be yet another passenger jet. But he was too skilled and too dedicated to deviate from proper procedure. His keen eyes scanned rapidly down the columns of alpha-numeric target data, and then his pulse began to race.
This was not a single airliner straying out of the commercial air corridors; it was ten fast-moving targets, all traveling at altitudes of less than 200 meters. Chao reacted automatically, his right palm shooting up to slam the threat warning alarm.
As the klaxon began its harsh repetitive cry, Chao was swiveling the microphone of his communications headset to a position in front of his lips. He keyed the circuit. “Watch Officer, this is the Radar Intercept Operator. I am tracking ten confirmed inbound targets, converging on this position. Flight profiles are consistent with land-attack cruise missiles. Request permission to arm the missile batteries.”
The Watch Officer’s voice sounded startled and confused. “Wait! You are certain? This could not be a system malfunction? Or a simulation?”
Chao cursed under his breath and then keyed the circuit again. “Sir, this is not a malfunction. It is not a simulation. This site is under attack, and the inbound missiles are closing at high speed. There is no time to discuss this, Lieutenant. I request permission to arm the missile batteries.”
“If you are certain…” the Watch Officer said vaguely. “I mean, yes! You have permission to arm the missile batteries! Engage the inbound targets!”
Chao’s hands were already moving over his keyboard. “Yes, sir. Arming missile batteries now.”
The circular formation of twin-armed missile launchers came to life. All six batteries pivoted to different angles as the H-200 radar assigned a target to each launcher. A few seconds later, the first missile leapt off the rail, followed in rapid succession by five others.
The radar array was mounted to the front chassis section of a heavy duty ten-wheeled military vehicle. Chao sat in the H-200’s operations cabin, a box-like steel structure which occupied the rear section of the vehicle’s chassis, a few meters behind the huge rectangular radar sensor.