Peck adjusted his flight path, running parallel to the Zagros Mountains as they cut southeast across Iran, hugging the valleys of the multi-ridge mountain range. After an hour-long transit, the mountain peaks tapered off and Peck turned south, cutting between the Folded Zagros Mountains, not far from his target. As the second Lancer pulled alongside, Peck’s OSO began final preparations to drop their payload of twenty-four GBU-31s: two-thousand-pound bombs, each outfitted with a JDAM — Joint Direct Attack Munition — a bolt-on guidance package with aerodynamic control surfaces and GPS capability, converting free-falling gravity bombs into precision-guided munitions.
The voice of Peck’s OSO came across the speaker in his flight helmet. “One minute to release point.”
Peck lifted a switch on his panel, opening the triple bomb bay doors. After a green light illuminated on his panel, he activated the microphone in his flight helmet. “OSO, you have permission to release.”
The OSO acknowledged the order, and when the Lancer reached the release point, he dropped their ordnance. On Peck’s left, the second B-1B did the same.
Peck banked to the right for a return trip home as twenty-four tons of ordnance streaked toward their targets.
68
BANDAR ABBAS, IRAN
Under the bright air base lights, Russian Air Force Major Vadim Aleyev guided his tactical fighter toward the left strip of the two-runway base. The Iranian Air Force had been kind enough to open its runways and facilities to Russian aircraft, and Bandar Abbas Air Base, occupying a strategic location on Iran’s southern coast near the Strait of Hormuz, was now home to several squadrons of Russian tactical fighters.
Bandar Abbas’s hot desert climate, with summer temperatures peaking near 120 degrees Fahrenheit, wasn’t much different from Aleyev’s last assignment. Having spent several months in Syria flying over one hundred missions in support of President Bashar al-Assad’s regime, Aleyev was one of Russia’s most experienced combat pilots. He now was preparing to relieve one of the fighters aloft in Russia’s combat air patrol over their ships in the Gulf of Oman, ready to defend them if necessary.
Aleyev applied the brakes, coasting to a halt beside another Sukhoi Su-35S waiting on the adjacent runway, while ahead, another fighter completed final preparations for takeoff. Although Aleyev’s Su-35S was one of Russia’s most advanced multi-role fighters, designed to engage air, land, and sea targets, Aleyev’s aircraft was armed with ten R-77-1 active-radar homing missiles tonight. Like the jet beside him and the one in front, they were configured for air-to-air combat, should the American carrier strike groups in the Arabian Sea attack.
The engines of the Su-35S in front of Aleyev flared, and the aircraft accelerated down the runway. As the jet beside Aleyev pulled forward, next in line for takeoff in the alternating sequence, a bright flash at the end of Aleyev’s runway caught his attention. The Su-35S taking off disintegrated in an orange fireball, and chunks of runway and aircraft rained down on the air base.
The Su-35S beside Aleyev began streaking down its runway and Aleyev followed suit, engaging both afterburners as another explosion rocked the base. As his fighter accelerated to takeoff speed, a crater opened up just ahead of the fighter on the adjacent runway and the jet disappeared into the roiling orange-and-black cloud, with only bits and pieces of the aircraft emerging on the other side.
Another explosion bathed Aleyev’s cockpit in an orange hue, leaving a crater in his runway only fifty meters ahead. He was below takeoff speed but had no choice; he pulled back on his stick when he reached the crater. His wheels cleared the far edge with only a foot to spare, and Aleyev climbed into the night sky as additional bombs hit the air base, the explosions illuminating the landscape below in a pulsating orange glow.
As he rose into the darkness, Aleyev checked his instrumentation. Only eighteen aircraft from his cycle, launching from various bases across Iran, had made it airborne. There were another hundred above the Sea of Oman, and although they’d be running low on fuel, there were several tankers aloft. Aleyev turned southeast with a grim determination. With the assistance of the missile batteries on the Iranian coast, they would teach the Americans a lesson they would not soon forget.
69
ARABIAN SEA
Lieutenant Commander Bill Houston cruised at twelve thousand feet, headed northwest toward the Gulf of Oman, where the Russian surface combatants awaited. Houston and the other seventeen Super Hornets in Truman’s first cycle were divided into nine two-fighter packages, with each package assigned a different target. At this point in their approach, the eighteen fighters were strung out side by side at half-mile intervals, with an EA-18G Growler on each side of the formation, jamming incoming missiles and aircraft radars.
Three more waves of aircraft were headed northwest, one from each of the other carriers, forming a diamond formation with Truman’s cycle in the lead. The Russian surface combatants were arranged in a single task force resembling a two-carrier strike group, with the aircraft carrier Kuznetsov and the battle cruiser Pyotr Velikiy in the center.
Although the four waves of American fighters had been tasked with sinking the Russian surface ships, they would have to deal with the Russian combat air patrol first. The Super Hornets in his cycle were carrying a mixed load: air-to-surface missiles for the ships and air-to-air missiles for the tactical fighters. The Russian ships, aircraft, and missile batteries ashore would fire a bevy of missiles against the incoming American fighters, and defending against them would be challenging. Houston would have to rely on chaff, infrared decoys, and his organic jammers, as well as the more powerful electronic countermeasures aboard the accompanying Growlers.
Houston’s Radar Warning Receiver activated, its audible warning pulling his attention to the display. E-2C Hawkeye early warning aircraft, operating high above and to the rear, were relaying their contacts to the inbound fighters. Missiles had appeared over the Iranian coast, headed Houston’s way on an intercept course. Each missile was represented by a red 6, which indicated they were long-range 40N6 surface-to-air missiles fired by Russian mobile missile batteries. The 40N6 was designed to kill high-value targets, able to defeat EA-18G jamming.
There were four waves of outbound missiles, each wave headed toward a cycle of American fighters. In response to the incoming threat, the pilots from all four carriers did as they had been instructed to do. They banked hard left and dropped to the deck, skimming just above the ocean surface as they streaked away from the missiles.
In layman parlance, Houston and his fellow pilots turned and ran.
70
AIEA, HAWAII
In the fall of 1941, Takeo Yoshikawa stood in the grassy knolls of Aiea Heights overlooking Pearl Harbor and took notes. Assigned to the Japanese consulate in Honolulu, Yoshikawa left the consulate around 10 a.m. each day, returning to his office after lunch to review the product of his reconnaissance. In mid-November, he answered ninety-seven questions from Japan’s Foreign Ministry, including:
On what day of the week would the most ships be in Pearl Harbor on normal occasions?
Answer: Sunday.
In the early morning hours of Sunday, December 7, 1941, his efforts culminated in a succinct message sent to Vice Admiral Chūichi Nagumo, which he read in the darkened Bridge of the Japanese heavy aircraft carrier Akagi: