While McCarthy certainly knew his stuff, there was a downside to his store of knowledge — he tended to unleash vast amounts of it when explaining even the simplest concept or finding.
The M-242, he said, was used in the Bradley Fighting Vehicle and the Marine Corps LAV-25 personnel carrier; the 25mm gun had itself used depleted uranium rounds, though they were not standard equipment. The material’s density gave the DU BBs — as McCarthy called them — an inherent advantage over conventional slugs; a smaller size bullet could carry as much momentum as a larger round, giving it more kinetic energy and thus more penetrating power. But the metal’s qualities went beyond that; McCarthy theorized that the rounds were engineered so the rear portion spread as the nose hit, creating a wider “wound” in its target.
The weapon would have an effective range of just over 1,500 meters, about the same as a 20mm cannon. That would account for the tactics the UAVs employed; it had to be relatively close to fire. The weapon would have a fairly good recoil, which in the small aircraft would have a significant impact on its flight energy. It would be fired in very short bursts, perhaps as low as three at a time, and in any event would not carry much ammunition.
The weapon assumptions were being made based on thin data, and so Turk took them with a grain of salt. The Sabres had been fitted with a similar weapon at one point in their trials. But the uranium slugs had proven to be overkill — you didn’t need to make big holes in an aircraft to shoot it down — and have a weight penalty as well. The Sabres now used conventional bullets.
McCarthy moved on to tactics, where he and Turk were mostly in agreement. It seemed likely the enemy UAVs were programmed to fly to a certain area, then used a combination of passive sensors to home in on their targets — a simple electronics detector would get them close, where an infrared sensor could take over for the final targeting. The simplicity gave them certain advantages: the aircraft could be small and therefore hard to detect and highly maneuverable. But it also extracted a price. They were surely vulnerable at long range, and they seemed to have to make a rear-quarter attack to guarantee a kill. Cowboy’s encounter appeared to prove all of that, and also implied that Turk’s suggestion for him to attack at long range had been sound.
As McCarthy continued, the camera pulled back to show the others sitting near him in the situation room. Rubeo was there, and Reid, and a dozen other specialists.
And Breanna, right in the middle, standing, arms folded, lips pressed tightly together, clearly worried.
Is that how you looked when you ordered them to kill me? Turk wondered. Does your conscience bother you now? How would you have gotten this mission done if they’d succeeded?
Hate welled inside him. Then he felt guilty, sad even — he had admired Breanna and her husband Zen greatly. Both were heroes, and at the same time unpretentious, just regular people, at least to the extent possible in Washington, given their jobs.
But Breanna had let him down. She stood revealed as someone who could not be trusted.
Zen was different. Turk still admired the former pilot, who had done so much to make combat UAVs successful and become the first Flighthawk ace. To have come back from a crippling injury, especially at a time when people looked at disabilities as if they were contagious diseases and a mark of bad character, had taken a tremendous amount of courage, courage that Turk himself wasn’t sure he possessed. It wasn’t just bravery under fire — which Turk certainly did possess — it was the ability to take a long-range view of the battle and to put up with the constant setbacks, large and small, that were inevitable. Perseverance under fire was a different kind of courage, a quality that someone who was impatient, as Turk was, couldn’t count on.
“So, bottom line, Captain Mako,” said Rubeo, thankfully interrupting the analyst’s dissertation. “Target them at long range, and don’t let them behind you.”
McCarthy turned to him. “I’ll defer to Captain Mako on the precise tactics,” he said. “But you have it in a nutshell.”
“That’s pretty much the best way to deal with any enemy,” said Turk, even though he knew it was much easier said than done in this case.
“Good luck, Turk,” said Breanna.
“Yeah. Thanks.” He switched off the feed and went to get suited up.
16
Jonathon Reid stopped Breanna as she started to leave the situation room.
“A minute alone?” he asked.
“Of course.” She glanced around. Except for the two duty officers at the front, everyone else had left to take a break or get something to eat.
“I couldn’t help but notice, you looked a little upset,” said Reid, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you worried about the operation?”
“I’d feel better if we had all our assets in place,” said Breanna. “And if we had a full force.”
“We will in another eighteen hours.”
“The UAVs will probably come with this attack,” said Breanna. “We really should have our people there. In a perfect world—”
“In a perfect world we’d all be millionaires. But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it?”
“Things aren’t right with Turk. He doesn’t trust me.”
“Why not?”
“Iran. The order I gave Stoner.”
“You did what you had to do,” said Reid. “Right?”
“I know, but… I can’t take back the fact that if he was killed, it would have been on my orders. My fault. My responsibility.”
“And what about the several million people your order saved?” asked Reid. “That mission — if we hadn’t destroyed the bombs, don’t you think Iran would have used them at some point?”
“It’s more complicated than that. And maybe they wouldn’t have,” added Breanna. “We don’t know.”
“That’s true. We can’t see the future. What we do know is what happened — the bombs were destroyed, and Turk is still alive.”
“No thanks to me.”
“On the contrary. You sent the one person who had a chance of saving him. You don’t give yourself credit for that. Why not?”
“Because Turk doesn’t,” said Breanna.
17
Turk steadied the F-35B into a comfortable orbit at 20,000 feet. The night was clear, with not even a whisper of wind. The plane felt solid around him, responding precisely to every input. Taking off the other day, he’d been unsure of himself, and the aircraft seemed to have sensed it, reacting with slight jerks and the occasional stutter through the early parts of the flight. Now his muscles moved with smooth assurance, and the plane responded accordingly.
Cowboy flew about a half mile ahead in Basher One. They had the sky to themselves.
“Two, scope’s clean. How you lookin’?” asked the Marine, telling Turk he had no radar contacts.
“Copy. Same. Systems are good. Looks like you dialed up an easy one for us.”
“The night is still young,” answered Cowboy. “Ospreys are off the mat in zero-two.”
“Roger that, I copy,” said Turk.
As soon as the aircraft carrying the Marine assault units were off the ground, Cowboy swung south, aiming to overfly the area where the rebels were advancing. A Marine UAV was already in the vicinity, providing real-time infrared reconnaissance.
Turk stayed with the Ospreys, tucking down toward 12,000 feet. The transport aircraft were far lower, close to the jungle treetops, hugging the curve of the Earth as they sped south.