Inside the Hawkeye, the crew of five went about their tasks. They were three hours into their current mission with sixty minutes to go before being relieved. Though the Hawkeye was capable of being refueled, allowing it to remain on station longer, the crew was ready for a break: unlike the earlier patrol, this one was boring, and their coffee had run out long ago.
After several near-confrontations between Egyptian and Libyan aircraft earlier in the evening, the level of activity had dropped off. Activity in the last three hours had been limited to a flight of two Egyptian fighters that scrambled from the airfield at Mersa Matruh and the sailing of several missile boats. Unlike before, the Libyans did not respond by scrambling their own aircraft. Even when the Egyptian fighters made a high-speed run toward the Libyan border, the Libyans did nothing. Watching the activity, the combat information officer commented dryly that perhaps the Libyans were finally settling down in an effort to defuse the situation. Since the assassination attempt, the leaders of the two countries had been waging a war of words, using the media of the Western world as their battleground. The crew of the Hawkeye didn't mind. So long as the leaders of both countries were throwing words and not making any major movement of troops, ships, or aircraft, the crisis would eventually peter out. It had happened before, and no doubt this incident would be no different.
Though it was not really their assigned task that night, the crew of the Hawkeye continued to track three Egyptian missile boats that had sailed from Mersa Matruh and four Libyan boats from Tobruk. All the boats had left their respective ports at approximately the same time. The commander of the Hawkeye passed that off as a simple coincidence, since their speeds and courses indicated that their departures were not related.
Leaning back in his seat, the radar operator tugged on the sleeve of the air control operator, who had nothing to control, and pointed to the green blips that represented the missile boats. "Five bucks says the Egyptians spot the Libyans first."
The air controller studied the screen for a moment, then said, "You're on."
From his position on the bridge of the center missile boat, Lieutenant Commander Rashid, Egyptian navy, could see only one of the other two boats in his small flotilla. Their course, which was due west, was taking them toward the imaginary line that divided the Egyptian coastal waters from those of Libya. All three boats were Ramadan class boats armed with four Italian-made Otomat surface-to-surface guided missiles. Two boats, including Rashid's, were running close to the shore. The third was out at sea, riding the line that divided the open sea, or international waters, from the territorial waters of Egypt. Only that boat used its search radars, and then only in short spurts. The idea was to have the boat at sea locate and report any targets to Rashid. If any Libyan patrol boats detected the radar of the Egyptian boat at sea, they would turn and head for it, exposing themselves to the two Egyptian boats running along the coast. Only when he was sure that the Libyan boats were committed and unaware of the two boats running the shore line would Rashid turn on his own search and acquisition radars. That, he reasoned, would surprise the Libyans and cause them to break off their attack.
When Rashid's small flotilla was less than fifty kilometers from Libyan waters, the commander of the boat at sea reported radar contact with four boats that he assumed were Libyan. Like the two Egyptian boats running along the coast, the Libyans did not have their search radars on. For several minutes Rashid maintained his course and speed as he listened to the reports from the boat at sea. After two minutes the electronic warfare operator on Rashid's boat reported that two, then four search radars had been switched on. The source of those search radars was the Libyan boats. They had detected the radar of the Egyptian boat at sea and were now attempting to get an accurate fix on its source. Still, Rashid maintained course and speed, tracking on a chart the locations of the Libyan boats as they were reported.
Calmly, the commander of the boat at sea reported that he had switched his radar on to continuous search and was commencing evasive maneuvers. As planned, that boat changed course from a westerly direction to one running to the northwest. This took the third boat out into international waters; and if the Libyans conformed to his maneuvers, they would expose themselves to flank attack by the two Egyptian boats running along the coast. An update from the commander of the third boat clearly indicated that the Libyans had changed course and were doing exactly as Rashid had expected and wanted. Deciding to wait until he was within twenty-five kilometers of the Libyan boats, Rashid continued to hug the coast and head east.
The calm reports of the third boat's commander were suddenly replaced by a shrill and excited report. The two lead Libyan boats had each fired a surface-to-surface missile at Rashid's third boat. Rashid immediately ordered the commander of the third boat to break contact and evade. His order was followed by several moments of nervous silence. When the radio crackled again, the commander of the third boat regained his composure as he acknowledged that he was executing Rashid's order and updated Rashid on the location, speed, and course of the four Libyan boats. Rashid relaxed slightly. For a moment he considered his next move. There was the off-chance that the Libyans had made a mistake when they fired. If that was so, to expose his two boats and threaten the Libyans from the flank and rear might trigger a nervous and undesirable reaction.
The momentary calm and Rashid's indecision, however, both ended when the commander of Rashid's third boat reported that two more missiles had been fired. The first two missiles could have been a mistake; the second two couldn't be. Rashid was now free to act. As he prepared to issue orders to his boats, the commander of the third boat reported that he was firing chaff. A follow-on report was cut short by static, then silence. Out at sea, in the distance, there were two quick flashes. Sixty seconds later, two muffled explosions could be heard above the hum of Rashid's missile boat's engines.
Removed from any fear or danger, the crew of the Hawkeye watched the maneuvers of the Egyptian and Libyan missile boats. The air control officer was convinced that he had won the bet. The radar operator, however, claimed that the Egyptians had seen the Libyans first because the Egyptian boat at sea had changed course. They were in the midst of this debate when the appearance of two new blips caught the radar operator's attention.
"Holy shit! Those fuckers have fired!"
The combat information officer turned to the radar operator. "Who fired? And what did they fire?"
Now hunched over his screen and studying it intently, the radar operator thought for a moment, then responded. "Two surface-to-surface missiles have been fired, one from each of the lead Libyan boats. Correction — four missiles have been fired from the lead boats." There was a pause. The Hawkeye had gone silent except for the steady drone of the two engines. The radar operator continued. "The Egyptian boat at sea is taking evasive maneuvers. He is turning away from the Libyans."