Weaps checked the serial numbers on each missile, and they tied up with what his tablet told him was loaded. He ran a diagnostics program on each of them from his handheld, cell phone like instrument.
There were more checks on the arming systems.
Weaps looked at the display. “Systems check complete.”
“I concur,” said Johansson.
“Do you want to sign one? Say Hi to Uncle Joe?”
“Yeah. I’ll order delivery.” Johansson took out a marker pen and paused, then scrawled on a missile: “Kiss my sour ass prawns and egg fuck you.”
Weaps smiled. “Thanks Johansson.”
WEAPS RETURNED TO HIS console.
“All birds ready, sir.”
“Ok, thanks. Oh, and Weaps…”
“Yes sir?”
“Go easy on the NFL teams, yeah?”
“Ok sir.” On the North Korean strike, Weaps had named the birds after teams and given a running commentary.
“Lemineux, we need Big Bird data from COMSUBPAC and we need it yesterday. Give them notice, and stuff a hyperactive gerbil up their ass.”
Lemineux grinned. “Yes sir, count on it.”
Less than two hours later, the files appeared.
“XO, Kaminski, Wardroom.”
Nathan led the way and laid out his plan.
“Comments?”
“Flight times, sir. Can they be tightened up?” asked Kaminski. “We need good coordination.”
“I’ll get Weaps to go over it again, but I think he’s done a good job.”
“We need it right,” said Larry, “it’s a one shot deal.” Nikki stood and paced the room and Larry put his head back and groaned.
“What the holy fuck is this cow cooking up now?”
Nathan grinned.
She put her fists on the table, arms straight and leaned forward. “I may know a way that we can kick Joe Chinaman’s ass hard.”
Nathan and Larry listened.
“Right,” said Nathan, I like it. Weaps won’t like the work but…” He smiled at her. “Name it, Nikki. You name ops lucky.”
She thought about it for a minute, and then smiled. “Operation Corleone’s Offer.”
Larry frowned. “What?”
“You know,” she smiled, “The Godfather, Vito Corleone. I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
Larry shook his head. “What do they feed you on in Georgia?”
“I like it,” said Nathan, “Operation Corleone’s offer it is.”
The meeting broke up and Nathan went to the galley for a coffee. The crew looked in good spirits; the banter flew thick and fast.
He knew though that Kaminski’s plan had to work. He had a tiger by the tail and the bastard was writhing. If it didn’t work, the PLAN would be on them and looking for their ass.
We can’t afford failure, the boat’s fate depended on it, that and dominance of the South China Sea.
Chapter 11
“ALL SET SIR,” SAID Weaps. Nathan looked at the boat’s clock, 20.47; it would be dark upstairs.
“Ok, H hour is 21.00. Control room. Rig for red.” The room was bathed in a dull red light, it would allow his eyes to adjust to the night view in the periscope. There was no real reason for red light, but it was traditional for night operations.
Nathan waited then picked off his microphone. “Boats Company. Battle stations, battle stations.” The crew scurried to their stations. All through the boat, hatches closed shut and were sealed.
“All hands, we’ve been hunted by enemy air assets for long hours now. They’ve been flying up there where they feel safe and invulnerable. The tables are about to turn. They’ll find that Stonewall Jackson has teeth, and believe me, they won’t like it. Tonight the hunted becomes the hunter. Commander out.”
“Weaps, four minutes to H hour.”
Weaps looked to his Commander. “TLAM strike is go. The plan of Operation Corleone’s Offer is loaded. Activating all birds Sir.
“VPM tube one. Red Wings, returns Gyro up, green board, route A, target T1.
Predators, returns Gyro up, green board, route B, target T2.
Avalanche, returns Gyro up, green board, route C, target T3.
Ducks, returns Gyro up, green board, route D, target T4.
Leafs, returns Gyro up, green board, route E, target T5.
Sabres, returns Gyro up, green board, route F, target T6.
Blackhawks, returns Gyro up, green board, route G, target T7.
VPM tube two. Bruins, returns Gyro up, green board, route H, target T8…”
The Tomahawks reported their status one by one.
“All birds up and ready sir.”
“Open outer doors, VPM one to three.”
“Outer doors open Sir.”
Nathan checked his wristwatch again. He counted the seconds down. “Weaps, I said no NFL teams.”
“Sir, they’re NHL.”
Nathan rolled his eyes. “Execute Corleone’s Offer on my command.” Fifty seven, fifty eight, fifty nine. “Go, go, go.” There was a faint whooshing sound from back aft. “On the surface, Red Wings reports launch, good burn. Motor in, wings deployed, gaining altitude. People, we have a bird.”
One by one they reached the surface, ignited their motors and soared into the night. Red Wings headed for Fiery Cross Reef. Predators for Subi Reef. Avalanche and Ducks followed these four minutes later.
“Phase one away. Estimated time to target nine minutes.”
“Good work, Weaps. Ready phase two.”
Around the control room, faces were tense. Silent tension. Everyone concentrated on their station and waited.
Ten minutes later, it was time.
“Phase two launch.”
“Go, go, go.” There came a whooshing sound from back aft.
“On the surface, Leafs reports launch, good burn. Motor in, wings deployed, gaining altitude. We have a mean bird hunting.” One by one, missiles reached the surface, ignited their motors and soared into the night sky.
The flock of seventeen Tomahawk cruise missiles flew into the night sky in their two separate waves, on the way to Fiery Cross and Subi Reefs.
SEVERAL SOLDIERS ON guard duty and the south end of the crescent shaped reef heard them first. Aircraft, low flying at that. Odd, the runway lights were off. Men frowned.
“What the hell…”
The Tomahawk missile Predators flew into Shannxi Y-8Qs parked on the apron. A bright flash and booming blast noise was followed by huge billows of flame and metal debris flying through the air. Less than a minute later the Tomahawk Ducks arrived and added to the impacts and chaos as men ran around trying to fight the fires. The aircraft apron was devastated.
The Wing Commander knew exactly what was going on: the enemy was trying to destroy his squadrons on the ground. It wouldn’t work, he’d get them airborne. The order went out to scramble the aircraft.
The ground crew tried their best to clear the paths to the runway. Minutes later the runway was filling up with Shannxi Y-8Qs, it was time to get them away. Engines spooled up and roared as the turboprop propellers cut into the warm air.
Subi Reef, phase two.
Tomahawk missile Leafs slammed into the leading aircraft on the runway, sending balls of flame and debris into the air. Its comrades followed and the Chinese ASW aircraft were shredded.
Finally, Tomahawks Coyotes and Islanders streaked in, dropping 330 BLU 97/B bomblets. These damaged and disabled waiting aircraft and made any clean-up operation around the runways protracted and dangerous.
Within minutes, Subi Reef as an airbase had ceased operations and the vast majority of PLANAF ASW aircraft had been destroyed on the ground.