Four seconds later, he was over the command center bunker. He flipped the weapons release switch, felt the Tomcat leap up into the air as missiles left its rail, then jerked the aircraft away to the right in a hard, screaming turn.
The two HARM missiles seemed to hang in the air.
Suddenly, something seemed to catch their attention the invitingly enticing scent of electromagnetic radiation. Rocket motors kicked in, seeker heads aligned on the emissions, and the missiles dove in on the target.
When they were seconds away from impact, the radiation suddenly ceased.
No matter they were too close now, too certain of a kill, to disarm or detonate harmlessly. The two missiles exploded, the first one half a meter in front of a delicate microwave communications assembly and the second at the base of a high-frequency antenna whip.
The microwave structure exploded into a hail of shrapnel, shredding two guards located outside the front of the command center. The destruction of the high-frequency antenna was less dramatic, but equally telling. The thirty foot whip exploded up out of the ground as though it were a javelin, arcing across the compound to clatter to the ground just outside the officers’ club. Wires that were ripped out of the ground and out of the power supply trailed around it before settling into awkward, half-described circles on the ground. The base structure sputtered once, then shorted out in a spray of sparks.
“Commander! We’ve lost data link with the launch site.”
The senior missile officer felt a vague trace of relief, then felt guilty over it. It was wrong to be relieved that a commander’s strategy had been foiled, entirely wrong.
Nonetheless, if he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn he was grateful for it.
“Come right, steady on zeroone-five,” Tomboy ordered.
“Twenty seconds to IP.”
The Tomcat groaned as it took the high-G turn, racing between ground targets like a car negotiating a set of orange pylons on a test track.
The Hornet, while it would have done better on the quick turns and maneuvers required to hit the missile launcher sequentially, couldn’t have carried enough armament to take out everything. Not that and the command center as well.
The first target was an easy one. Tombstone didn’t even bother with the rollover maneuver to take a visual sighting on his target, but simply followed Tomboy’s direction in. By now, her ESM indicator was screaming about launch indications from the farthest-away site, and that had to be the top priority. Still, he doubted there was time to take that one first and then come back for the others. No, they would do them in sequence, the way they’d planned.
The first five-hundred-pound bomb hung up on launch.
Tombstone swore, dropped the Tomcat down into a hard dive, then jerked it up. As the Tomcat pulled up violently, he toggled the launch button again. The sudden change in force vectors shook the bomb loose from the rack and sent it hurtling toward its intended target. The decrease in weight increased the Tomcat’s angle of attack. The massive aircraft stuttered for a moment, momentarily approaching stall speed, then grabbed hard at the air for lift.
“Now, due north, Stoney,” Tomboy coached. “Longer this time. Thirty seconds. Counting now ” Her quiet voice ticked off the moments.
This time the five-hundred-pound bomb fell smoothly away from the Tomcat. Again, the shudder as its weight left the fuselage, the sudden extra lift and speed he felt take the aircraft afterward.
“Fish in a barrel,” Tombstone said cheerfully. “What’s that last vector?”
“Zero-eight-zero, the last one.” Tomboy glanced down at her ESM indicator. “And Tombstone it might be a good idea if we hurry.”
Tombstone slammed the Tomcat into afterburner again, taking note of his fuel status. The high-speed race in, the battle with the UAV, and carrying a full load of heavy weapons onto target had taken their toll.
The Tomcat was sucking down fuel like a Hornet. Much more of this, and he’d be lucky to make it back to the boat. He switched his circuit over to tactical. “Batman, get some gas in the air. I think I’m gonna need it.”
“Already there, buddy.” Batman chuckled. “You think I’d forget how you abuse the afterburner?”
“Tell him to expect me in ten mikes,” Tombstone said.
“I’m going to need to make it on the first approach.”
“Five seconds.” Tomboy’s voice sounded relieved. “Stoney, it’s the last one. Let’s make it a good one.”
This time. Tombstone rolled over inverted for another look at the target. Smoke and fumes were boiling away from the hole in the ground, indicating that launch preparations were under way. There was not a person in sight they’d all taken cover, not wanting to be exposed to the poisonous fumes and gases generated by a launch. Even more important, if there were an accident no one would have any chance of surviving a misfire by a nuclear weapon on the ground.
Not that they’d survive what he was about to do if they were anywhere in the vicinity. He rolled back into level flight, bore in for the last five seconds, then jerked the Tomcat up sharply as he released the final bomb. The motion of the aircraft, coupled with the weight of the bomb, acted like a slingshot, lofting the weapon through the air and toward the launchers.
He peeled out in a hard starboard turn, taking a quick glance back at the bomb. It was still in the air, now descending, smack-dead on target. He watched it go, occasionally glancing forward to make sure his flight path was clear, and saw how deadly accurate his shot had been.
Just as the bomb approached the launch structure, a thin, poisonous gray spear emerged from the ground. It was traveling slowly, still being boosted out of the silo by compressed gas in a small igniter rocket. That would soon change as the main battery kicked in, sending it arcing toward the mainland.
The deadly javelin was halfway out of the ground when the five-hundred-pound bomb hit. It landed immediately next to the missile, instantly crushing one wall of the silo.
The silo collapsed, pinching the missile at its waist and holding it in position. Tombstone saw the silo shudder, then break in half. Its forward portion had not even hit the ground when the area erupted in an orange fireball.
Tombstone jinked the Tomcat away from the scene, satisfied. Three up, three down.
“Good shooting, Stoney,” Tomboy said. “Glad I came along for the ride.”
“I’m glad you did, too, love,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t have had you miss it for the world.”
“How about we grab a quick drink and buster back to the carrier?”
Tomboy suggested.
“Next stop, Texaco,” Tombstone said. He felt his spirits lift with the Tomcat as they rose into the air.
“That’s it, then.” Senator Dailey’s voice sounded relieved.
“At least until next time.” He turned to the admiral standing next to him. “What about you, Keith? I’m not going to forget what you did here today.”
Admiral Keith Loggins shook his head. “I was stupid, criminally stupid.” He glanced up at the senator. “Ambition, personal power I forgot the oath that I took so long ago to protect this country. Those things … well, maybe that’s okay in your world. Senator no disrespect intended, sir.
But for us there’s got to be a higher purpose in life. We’re here to prevent wars, not start them. If we let personalities get in the way of that, let our own personal ambition override our sound operational thought, then we deserve what we get.” He looked back toward the console from which Senator Williams had launched the weapon. “You understand that. He never would have.”