A new sound tore the sky directly above his vehicle, so loud all the men with him ducked down. He turned and looked at his roof-mounted camera, flipped it to infrared, and panned the lens back and forth looking for the source of the noise.
A pair of unusual-looking fighter planes raced by just above treetop level, heading west to east.
“What the fuck, sir?” one of his captains shouted over the noise.
Just then explosions erupted to the northeast, right at the spearhead of advancing Russian armor.
Belanger looked at the image of the aircraft in the distance, then another pair roared right overhead, this time on a slightly different heading. He looked the planes over as they raced by. These two dropped bombs over the Russian spearhead before banking off to the north.
Belanger said, “Those are Saab Gripens.”
His captain asked, “Who flies those weird-looking birds?”
“Sweden. Just Sweden.”
More explosions erupted over the Russians.
“Sweden is in this war?” the radio operator asked.
“Guess so,” the lieutenant colonel said.
“Whose side are they on, sir?”
“Well, they’re blowing shit up to the east, genius. What does that tell you?”
The radio operator looked at his lieutenant colonel. “All hail Sweden?”
Belanger fought a smile, then began ordering an immediate halt to his battalion. He could take advantage of this attack to mount a new defensive line, utilizing the EARLY SENTINEL positions in the area. With a little luck and a lot more Gripens in the air, he realized, he might actually have a shot at holding the Russians out of Vilnius until the weather cleared.
79
Lieutenant Damon Hart always wondered how he would feel if he actually destroyed a submarine. He’d been training for it since he’d joined the Navy, he’d served on cruisers and LCSs and guided missile destroyers with that one objective in his mind, but he never knew how he’d react if the moment ever came.
And now that moment came and went in an instant. The sonar supervisor had just spoken over the net to announce the second ASROC Hart had ordered launched at the Russian Kilo had struck it dead center. The sounds of explosions, cavitation, and metal wrenching under pressure reported by the sonar technicians erased any doubt at all that Hart had just done his duty for his country.
But at this auspicious moment Lieutenant Hart had no time to think about his kill.
Instead all his attention, every synapse of his brain function, immediately turned to something else. He looked up at the Aegis screen, focusing on the tracks of the missiles in the air. While he did this he keyed his mike. “EW, USWE. Talk to me about the Vampires.”
There were five missiles flying, every one fired by the submarine at bearing 031, now 26,000 yards off the starboard bow of the James Greer. He could see one of the missiles was on terminal flight, rocketing down toward the second Polish frigate. On one of the two Aegis displays on the wall it showed the flight path of this Oniks missile as it converged with the ship.
There was nothing that could save that frigate from taking a direct hit.
The second Oniks launched at that vessel had veered off course somehow. From its erratic track on the Aegis display, it appeared to all that it had suffered a mechanical malfunction of some sort.
But there were three more launches where tracks had not shown up on the display yet. But Hart had a sinking suspicion he knew where they were going.
“USWE, EW. Three Vampires are inbound on our heading. They are tracking, convergence in forty-two seconds.”
On Hart’s left, Commander Hagen broadcast on the 1-MC network, sending his booming voice through almost every compartment on the ship. “All hands, inbound Vampires. This is not a drill. Prepare for evasive action and impact.”
Hagen then called Weapons Control. “WC, Captain. Stand by on chaff. Send broadband jamming strobe.”
“Captain, WC. Standing by on chaff. Sending broadband strobe, aye!”
The captain then ordered his XO on the bridge to turn into the missiles, reducing the radar cross section of his ship, and this order was confirmed as well.
Just then, the tactical air controller monitoring the two MH-60 Romeos broadcast over the net. The helo had been dropping sonobuoys to the north of the second contact, designated Contact-Enemy Sub Zero Three.
“USWE, TAC. Casino One-Two reports good cross fix and firing solution on Contact-Enemy Sub Zero Three. Request permission to engage. Reports his loadout is two Mark-54 torpedoes.”
Hart couldn’t jam his transmit button fast enough. “TAC, USWE. Casino One-Two is cleared batteries released. Engage with two Mark-54s.”
The TAC confirmed the order.
Hart grabbed on to the side of the display table as the James Greer began heeling hard to port. Up in the bridge the executive officer was positioning the warship in the best defensive position against the incoming missiles.
The TAC’s voice came over the net. “Casino One-Two reports two weapons away.”
A report over the net from starboard lookouts announced the sighting of two pinpricks of light above the water. Everyone in the CIC realized these were two of the three inbound Oniks, and all eyes looked to the left Aegis screen, which showed the video display of the mast-mounted sight on the James Greer. But instead of the incoming missiles, they could see only a massive fireball in the distant night as the second Polish frigate was hit by a missile.
Seconds later the James Greer vibrated, and Hart grabbed the table even tighter. He knew the Aegis system, set up on auto-engage, was launching RIM-174 extended-range active missiles from its aft missile deck. They were the James Greer’s main defense for antiship cruise missiles. It would be hitting a bullet with a bullet, and Hart knew that no RIM-174 had ever engaged a Russian P-800 Oniks, so this would be a first.
Hopefully.
The Aegis system launched a total of six missiles off its aft missile deck in rapid succession, and within seconds of the last launch, the report came across the net that all launches were successful, and there were no apparent casualties on board the ship, a standard report for any launch.
Hart knew three state-of-the-art missiles were inbound on him at Mach 2.5, but he had to keep his focus on his job, which was the attack on the Severodvinsk-class sub to his southeast. He ordered Casino One-One into the area to launch its two torpedoes as well, and he prepared the Greer for the launch of more ASROCs at this new target. He was planning on firing every weapon he had in the direction of the vessel, including his ship’s five-inch deck gun, if it came down to it.
The TAO interrupted Hart’s concentration—“USWE, TAO. Second inbound Vampire has lost altitude, thirteen thousand yards away. It appears to have suffered a mechanical malfunction.”
“USWE, aye.”
Hart watched the Aegis screen for a moment. He saw the missile track of the six outbound RIM-174s as they converged with the two remaining inbound Oniks missiles, which were steadily getting closer to the James Greer.
Over his headset he heard the TAC’s voice. “USWE, TAC. Casino One-One reports a good firing solution on Contact-Enemy Sub Zero Three, and is requesting batteries free.”
This was the other helo. Hart said, “You have batteries released. Launch two Mark-54s.”
The tactical action officer spoke now. “One inbound Vampire destroyed. Remaining Vampire has made it through the ERAMs and is inbound. Impact in twelve seconds!”
Captain Hagen was on his net with the WC and the bridge. “Launch chaff, increase to flank speed!” Then he broadcast again on the 1-MC: “All hands, one inbound Vampire on terminal attack. Brace for impact.”