During these periodic updates, the area of uncertainty for each Chinese ship shrank to a discrete point, and the Towers and Gerrard knew the exact position of every enemy vessel. But as the minutes ticked away and the Chinese ships maneuvered within their formation, the American Slick-32 systems could only track bearings. The estimations of target range became progressively less reliable, and the ellipsoid areas of uncertainty began to grow again.
The NightEagle III was capable of maintaining continuous uplink with the satellites, providing constant position updates for the enemy warships, but the UAV had been programmed to avoid detection. There were at least three flights of J-15 fighter jets circling over the area, providing air cover for the Chinese carrier. The UAV’s laser communication link was covert, but it was not completely invisible.
Again, it came down to the difference between undetectable, and less detectable. The success or failure of this mission — life or death — depended on keeping the UAV and both American warships below the threshold of detection.
Any one of those Chinese planes might bounce a lucky radar echo off the Towers or the Gerrard at any time. One of the pilots might glance up (or down) at just the right angle, and catch a glimpse of a strange black shape against the waves, or a small winged silhouette against the night sky.
Silva knew she shouldn’t be thinking such thoughts, but this was the part she hated. The waiting. The proverbial calm before the proverbial goddamned storm. That frozen eternity of inaction, where every second seemed to draw itself out to an edge as keen as a razor, and there was nothing to do but dwell on the endless list of things that could go wrong.
On the tactical display, the symbols for Towers and Gerrardwere well into the deepening reds of the Chinese radar coverage now. The probability of detection readout said 88.1 / 17.6. There was nearly a one-in-five chance they’d be spotted, and the numbers were still climbing.
Splitting the difference between best-case and worst-case for the areas of uncertainty, the Chinese destroyers were a little over 40 nautical miles away. They were well within Harpoon range, but Silva knew from the pre-mission briefing that Captain Bowie intended to close another three miles before launching the strike.
Like most American surface combatants, the Towers carried only eight Harpoon anti-ship missiles. The USS Donald Gerrard carried eight as well. That only allowed four Harpoons per target, and the Chinese warships were supposed to have good anti-missile defenses.
Bowie wanted to be close enough to press the attack with naval gunfire, in case the limited inventory of Harpoons was not enough to guarantee a kill.
Even a year earlier, a gun attack from 37 miles would have been impossible. Against surface targets, the effective range of a standard 5-inch naval artillery shell was less than 20 nautical miles — a little better than half what was needed for Bowie’s plan. But that had been before Vulcano.
Over the past several decades, there had been several attempts to develop rocket-assisted projectiles with enhanced ranges, but none of the U.S. efforts had ever panned out. The two most promising projects — the Ballistic Trajectory Extended Range Munition (BTERM), and the Extended Range Guided Munition (ERGM) — had been cancelled, due to budget overruns and lingering technical challenges.
The U.S. Navy had finally sidestepped the issue by procuring Vulcano rounds from the Italian arms firm, OTO-Melara. The Italian defense industry had succeeded where the American military-industrial complex had failed. OTO-Melara’s 127mm Vulcano projectiles were fully compatible with the 5-inch guns aboard U.S. warships, and their maximum range was 40 nautical miles.
The gun crews aboard the Towers and Gerrard had been trained on the Vulcano rounds, and they’d racked up an impressive number of attack simulations using the new ammunition. But even the most accurate training simulators have practical limitations, and actual hands-on experience with the new projectiles had been limited to a handful of live firing exercises.
In view of this, and in light of the knowledge that the U.S. Navy had never employed Vulcano munitions under real-world combat conditions, Bowie had decided to edge a little nearer to the targets before launching the attack.
Silva agreed completely with the captain’s reasoning. It made sense not to push their luck by relying on textbook assessments of a new weapon’s capabilities. Better to build in a little safety margin, in case the textbooks turned out to be wrong.
But the probability of detection readout was still climbing. As Silva watched, it changed to 91.6 / 22.9. In another few minutes, the chance of getting caught would reach 30 %. Definitely too high for comfort.
Silva looked around and met Bowie’s gaze.
He raised one eyebrow slightly. “This must be what it feels like to be a submarine commander,” he said.
He turned back to the master tactical display. “Trying to sneak into your enemy’s sensor envelope without being detected. Knowing that the only things keeping you alive are silence, and luck.”
Commander Silva nodded, but didn’t say anything. Her eyes drifted back and forth between the estimated range to target, and the probability of detection. Two sets of numbers — one decreasing, and the other increasing. Silence and luck. Silence… and luck. Silence…
A burst of encrypted UHF came in on the downlink from Fleet SATCOM, carrying the latest targeting fixes from the NightEagle III. On the Aegis display screen, the areas of uncertainty for the Chinese ships shrank instantly to distinct points.
Captain Bowie looked over the target geometry, judging angles and distances against whatever image of the battle plan he carried in his head. He nodded, cleared his throat, and spoke loudly. “Let’s do it.”
And suddenly, it was time.
CHAPTER 51
The Tactical Action Officer keyed the net. “Weapons Control — TAO. You have batteries released. Kill Surface Contact Zero One and Surface Contact Zero Two with Harpoons.”
The acknowledgement came immediately. “Weapons Control, aye.”
A handful of seconds later, the steel deck vibrated with the syncopated rumble of anti-ship cruise missiles blasting free of their launch tubes.
“TAO — Weapons Control. Four birds away, no apparent casualties. Targeted two-each on the hostile surface contacts.”
Commander Silva watched four friendly weapons symbols blink into existence on the tactical display, and race toward a set of programmed navigational waypoints on the far side of the targets. “How long until the second salvo?”
“About three minutes,” Captain Bowie said.
The plan was to launch the attack in two stages. The first salvo of missiles would fly past the enemy warships, remaining below the radar horizon for the Chinese sensors. When the Harpoons had covered half the distance to their respective waypoints, the second salvo of missiles would be launched toward their own waypoints, on the near side of the targets.