Empire Rising (14 page)

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Lieutenant Leland Gwenn pushed forward on the throttles, easing his single-seat F/A-18C toward the carrier's bow. In the darkness, he watched the Director's yellow flashlights guide him toward the next stage of preparation for launch—the Director lifted his hands over his head, then pointed toward the Shooter.

The Shooter, also wielding yellow flashlights, continued guiding Leland forward, finally raising his right arm, flexed at the elbow, dropping it suddenly. Leland responded by dropping the Hornet's Launch Bar, which rolled into the CAT Two shuttle hook as the aircraft lurched to a halt. The Launch Petty Officer disappeared under Leland's jet, verifying the Launch Bar was properly engaged, and a moment later the Shooter raised both hands in the air. Leland matched the Shooter's motion, raising both hands to within view inside the cockpit, giving the Shooter assurance Leland's hands were off all controls. The Shooter pointed his flashlight to a red-shirted Ordie—an Aviation Ordnanceman—who took his cue and stepped beneath the Hornet, arming each bomb and missile.

As Lieutenant Leland Gwenn—call sign Vandal—waited for the Ordie to complete his task, he thought about that fateful day, eleven years ago. He was only seventeen, having just pled guilty to managing a ring of teenage car thieves. Standing before Judge Alice Loweecey, he was more jubilant than remorseful; his lawyer had informed him a deal had been struck that would allow him to avoid jail time.

Judge Loweecey had studied the documents before her in silence before lifting her eyes to the heavily tattooed teenager standing before her. Pushing her wire-rimmed glasses high onto the bridge of her nose, she cleared her throat and announced the decision that changed Leland's life. It was either three years in jail or three years in the Navy.

Fortunately, the Navy was exactly what he needed, levying a heavy dose of discipline and responsibility onto his young shoulders. He matured rapidly, eventually regretting his youthful indiscretions. After receiving his high school GED and impressing his Navy superiors, he enrolled in the University of Maryland as a Midshipman, with guaranteed acceptance into the Navy's flight school in Pensacola following graduation. He received his commission as an officer in the United States Navy, and eighteen months later earned his wings, also earning the well-deserved call sign of Vandal.

A loud roar to Vandal's right caught his attention as his wingman—Lieutenant Liz Michalski—in the F/A-18C on the starboard bow catapult streaked forward, her engines glowing white-hot as CAT One fired. Michalski's jet disappeared below the carrier's bow, reappearing a second later as it climbed in altitude, the glowing twin-engine exhaust growing smaller as it ascended. She would wait in a holding pattern for Vandal and the rest of Air Wing ELEVEN's first cycle.

A signal from the Shooter told Vandal his weapons were armed and it was time to go to full power. Vandal pushed the throttles forward until they hit the détente, spooling his twin General Electric turbofan engines up to full Military Power. As he confirmed the engines were at one hundred percent RPM and fuel flow, he knew that beneath the Flight Deck, steam was being ported behind CAT Two's massive piston, putting the catapult in tension. He then exercised each of the Hornet's control surfaces, moving the control stick to all four corners as he alternately pressed both rudder pedals. Black-and-white-shirted Troubleshooters verified the Hornet's control surfaces were functioning properly and there were no oil or fuel leaks. Both men gave a thumbs-up and the Shooter turned toward Vandal, relaying the results of the inspection.

Satisfied his Hornet was functioning properly, Vandal returned the thumbs-up and the Shooter lifted his arm skyward, then back down to a horizontal position, directing Vandal to kick in the afterburners. Vandal's Hornet was unusually heavy tonight, with twin fuel tanks—one on each wing—and ordnance attached to every other pylon; tonight's takeoff required extra thrust. Vandal pushed the throttles past the détente to engage the afterburners, then turned toward the Shooter and saluted, the glow from his cockpit instruments illuminating his hand as it went to his helmet.

The Shooter returned the salute, then bent down and touched the Flight Deck, giving the signal to the operator in the Catapult Control Station. Vandal pushed his head firmly against the headrest of his seat and took his hands off the controls, and a second later CAT Two fired with the usual spine-jarring jolt. He felt his stomach lifting into his chest as the Hornet dropped when it left the carrier's deck. Vandal took control of his Hornet, accelerating upward.

As the seat pressed into him during the ascent, Vandal scanned the instruments in his cockpit. Michalski was in a holding pattern at twelve thousand feet. With a nudge of his control stick to the right, Vandal adjusted the trajectory of his climb, angling toward his wingman. A few moments later, he pulled up next to Liz Michalski, call sign Phoenix, who was stationed behind an F/A-18E configured as a tanker, topping off her fuel tanks. All the fighters in Air Wing ELEVEN's first cycle were heavy, consuming over one thousand pounds of fuel during their launch and climb to twelve thousand feet, and would top off their tanks before heading west. Vandal settled in fifteen feet away on Phoenix's nine o'clock position, waiting his turn behind the tanker while USS
Nimitz
completed launching its first cycle.

 

20

NINGBO, CHINA

Inside the East Sea Fleet command center, with six rows of consoles stretching into the distance, the lights were dim, imparting a feeling of twilight throughout the facility. The blue glow from the consoles illuminated the faces of the men and women manning them, while multicolored symbols appeared on flat screen displays crowding the walls, the blinking icons superimposed on electronic maps of the Western Pacific. At the back of the command center, Fleet Admiral Tsou Deshi studied the displays, monitoring the progress of their assault on Taipei. The first phase of the naval battle had gone exactly as planned, eliminating the American submarines stationed along the Chinese coast. However, as America prepared to engage with their powerful aircraft carriers, the success of the next phase hinged on the performance of the PLA Air Force.

The People's Liberation Army Air Force was the third largest in the world, second only to the United States and Russia, fielding over 1,600 aircraft, with just over a thousand being fourth-generation jets. The PLA had overwhelmed the much smaller ROC Air Force and destroyed their land-based air defenses, gaining complete control of the skies. But now, as Admiral Tsou studied the three waves of blue symbols marching toward Chinese Taipei, he knew the true battle for air dominance was about to begin.

However, that battle would not be waged by PLA aircraft. Even though most were fourth-generation aircraft, they were still inferior to American fighter jets. That task fell to advanced surface-to-air missiles China had spent the last decade developing. It would be missile against aircraft.

Although the air battle was being directed by the Nanjing Military Air Command, Tsou monitored the progress of the engagement from the East Sea Fleet command center. This was their Achilles' heel—in the end, it would all come down to whether the United States could gain control of the ocean and skies and cut off the flow of food and ammunition.

Admiral Tsou watched as a wave of red symbols appeared along the Chinese coast, marching east toward the blue icons. He stood tensely at the rear of the command center as he waited.

 

21

SCARLET ONE • VIPER TWO

In the cabin of the northernmost E-2C Hawkeye, operating above the Pacific Ocean at 25,000 feet, Lieutenant Commander Julie Austin peered over the shoulders of the two Lieutenants in the Combat Information Center, examining the displays on their consoles. Affixed to the top of the Hawkeye—call sign Scarlet One—the aircraft's twenty-four-foot-diameter circular antenna, a sophisticated radar capable of tracking more than two thousand targets, rotated slowly, searching the skies for enemy aircraft and missiles.

The two Lieutenants—the Radar Officer and the Air Control Officer—were tracking two sets of opposing contacts. The first set consisted of the aircraft from
Nimitz
and
George Washington
, headed west, along with a stream of aircraft from the northeast. The U.S. Air Force's largest combat wing, based at Kadena Air Base on Okinawa, was getting in on the action. F-15C/D Eagles and F-15E Strike Eagles were heading toward Taiwan.

Austin was concerned about the second set of contacts. Over three hundred bogies were inbound from the Chinese coast and had split into a large V, one prong headed toward the Air Force fighters and the other prong speeding toward the carrier aircraft. To the south of Scarlet One, three more Hawkeyes divided up the inbound contacts, relaying the bogies to their fighters.

Austin studied the display, attempting to determine whether the bogies were inbound aircraft or missiles. Finally, the Hawkeye detected electromagnetic signatures that corresponded to the Chinese
Hongqi
surface-to-air missile.
Nimitz
's and
George Washington
's first cycle of aircraft, along with Kadena's 18th Wing, had their work cut out for them.

As the red symbols marched over the outline of Taiwan on the electronic display, they were joined by another wave of twenty missiles originating from the east coast of the island. China had apparently transported surface-to-air missile batteries across the Strait to Taiwan, increasing the range of their missiles by two hundred miles. Until this moment, Austin had been comfortable with their station above the Pacific Ocean, well out of range of missiles fired from the Chinese mainland.

Lieutenant Commander Austin scanned the new wave of missiles, which were leading the barrage from the mainland by sixty miles. The inbound fighters from
Nimitz
and
George Washington
had dropped down to ten thousand feet, matched in altitude by the main mass of missiles. But the new wave of missiles from Taiwan remained at fifteen thousand feet. Austin wondered if the missiles were a new variant, designed to drop in altitude at the last minute. Sure enough, as the missiles approached the fighters, the altitude on the Combat Information Console display began changing. But the missiles were climbing, not dropping. It took a moment for Austin to realize the missiles weren't headed toward their fighters. It took another second to realize where they were headed instead.

Austin slammed down on the ICS intercom button, activating the speaker in the cockpit. “Incoming missiles, bearing two-seven-three!”

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Fifty miles ahead of Scarlet One, Vandal monitored the missiles being relayed from the Hawkeyes behind them. The eighteen Hornets and Super Hornets in
Nimitz
's first cycle were divided into nine two-fighter packages, with each package assigned a different ground-support mission once they reached Taiwan. At this point in their approach to the island, the eighteen fighters were strung out side by side at half-mile intervals, with Vandal, designated Viper Two, on the far left, and his wingman, Phoenix, in Viper One on his right. Two EA-18G Growlers—one on each side of the fighter formation—accompanied the strike force toward their targets, jamming incoming missiles and aircraft radars.

The first wave of missiles curiously passed overhead, and a moment later, the trailing missiles disappeared from his display, no longer relayed from the Hawkeyes behind him. Vandal shifted to his organic sensors, and the missiles reappeared. Most of the missiles were represented by a red 6, which corresponded to the Chinese
Hongqi
surface-to-air missile. Interspersed within the mass of
Hongqi
missiles were sixteen bogies with an unknown designation. These bogies weren't radar-guided or his Radar Warning Receiver would have classified them based on their electromagnetic signature. They were most likely heat-seekers, which Vandal hoped to defeat with the Hornet's flares and evasive maneuvering.

As Vandal studied the incoming bogies, they broke into two groups of eighty missiles—one group headed toward
George Washington
's aircraft and the other group headed Vandal's way. He did the math. Eighty missiles against twenty aircraft. Not good odds.

The missiles closed the remaining distance rapidly, and Vandal discerned that four missiles were targeting his aircraft, each missile thirty seconds behind the other. Four more missiles were targeting Phoenix. As the first wave of missiles approached, Vandal's APG-79 indicated the incoming
Hongqi
had failed to lock on to his Hornet. The nearby Growler's electronic jamming was working well. Vandal broke left as his wingman veered right. The other Hornets took evasive action as the missiles reached them. As the first wave of twenty missiles passed by, two pinpricks of bright light illuminated the black sky, one to his immediate left and another in the distance to his right. Two of the missiles had found their target.

The initial engagement was ominous. With two aircraft lost in the first wave and three more waves of missiles coming, they'd lose almost half of their first cycle even before they reached Taiwan. Unfortunately, Vandal soon realized the situation was far worse. The aircraft shot down to his left was one of the two Growlers accompanying them. After checking his radar display, Vandal confirmed the Growler on the right side of the formation had also been lost. The unidentified heat-seeker missiles had taken out both of their radar-jamming support aircraft.

Without the Growlers, the remaining eighteen jets were more vulnerable. Vandal was about to find out just how vulnerable; the second wave of twenty missiles was approaching. The next missile targeting Vandal was a
Hongqi
missile with a radar-seeking head, so Vandal dispensed chaff from the fuselage of his Hornet, then broke left. His jet veered out of the way as the missile continued straight ahead, attracted by the cloud of aluminum-coated glass fibers. Vandal hoped the missile's proximity fuse would detonate as it passed through the chaff, but no such luck. This missile was a new generation, because it turned around and headed back toward Vandal's jet.