“Livewire, Sharktail. In position and going hot.”
The Chinese ships saw nothing, until the planes had flung their SPEAR’s and turned for home. About 30 miles out, they finally picked up the incoming Vampires, and the entire southern end of their TF line lit up with active radars. The British had achieved complete tactical surprise. Yet when the SPEAR’s closed inside 20 miles, long streams of defending SAMs began to lance out at the incoming Vampires, and the battle had finally been joined.
While the British SPEAR was not a real ship killer, its small 8Kg warhead could still do damage if it hit radars, gun mounts, and other sensors on a ship. The defense against those thrown by Whalerider and Sharktail was too good, with only two missiles getting close to their targets, only to be gunned down by Gatling guns. Skybolt had better luck. It had attacked the southernmost TF, unseen until the planes got into position, and was able to get a single hit on the frigate Jinhua, which took out a twin 37mm gun, and destroyed an I.R. range finding camera. Corvette Bengbu was struck twice, with damage to sensors and one of the gun magazines. Neither ship had fires or flooding, and they were in no danger of sinking, but the British had drawn first blood, even if it was only a scratch or two,
The real lesson Admiral Wells took from the strike was that his planes were indeed stealthy enough to get in close and deliver their missiles from their 80 mile range. If only I had a decent air launched cruise missile worth the name, he thought. What will we have to do, go begging to the Americans again for ordnance that can put real harm on the enemy? We built these damn carriers at great expense. What in the world did we think we would do with them? We have no real teeth.
Yet as he thought the situation over, he realized the strike had accomplished one more thing. It had put 136 missiles into the air, and if they were defeated, he had just pulled 136 SAM’s, or more, from beneath the enemy decks. He didn’t hurt them as he had hoped, but he had weakened their defensive strength a good deal.
Now then, he thought. Should I follow up with my 64 Sea Tomahawks and see if we can box their ears?
Admiral Sun Wei was glad the enemy attack had struck at the southern end of his line. The two northernmost TFs had been refueling their destroyers, and that would have been difficult if they were attacked in the midst of that operation. He received the damage report from his southern TF, ships that had come up to join the fleet from the small port of Narinda on Madagascar. There was nothing to be concerned about, though he inherently took notice of ordnance expended. He presently had the range with just 32 YJ-100’s.
I might use them, he thought, just for spite. If I do, they would have to be concentrated on one enemy carrier. We could pull a few teeth as well with such a strike, as the enemy will likely have to use upwards of 50 missiles to defeat it.
My great disadvantage now is that in order to engage and really fight the British, I must move east, further and further away from any land based air support. Our J-20’s can come out here, and still loiter for a reasonable time, but not the J-10’s. They can only be used for air defense over our bases on the coast. Yet we have one little surprise for them in the Seychelles at Victoria. A flight of six J-31’s joined the two J-20’s we had posted there. I can use them to keep a good eye on the British carriers as we move to intercept. My aim, of course, is to close inside 300 miles where I can then bring my real power to bear, the YJ-18’s. Do they know their peril now? Do they have intelligence on what we might be carrying?
“Sir,” came a voice, and Admiral Wells turned to see it was Sir Frederick Simon Gill, Captain of Prince of Wales on this outing.
“Yes Mister Gill?”
“I’ve got the latest on the enemy positions. They’re coming on like gangbusters. Their two northern TF’s are up near 30 knots, heading 095 east. It seems to me they are trying to close the range, and that can only mean one thing.”
“Indeed,” said Wells. “They’re trying to get missiles in range to get after us.”
“Precisely sir, and given that, we might give some thought to making a heading change to keep them at arm’s length.”
“We’re gut punchers, Captain. I can only jab at them with the F-35’s. If we want to put real harm on them, we’ll have to get inside.”
“We could throw Tomahawks at any time,” said Gill, a man in his mid-40’s, yet prematurely grey, in spite of a thick head of hair.”
“And when they are gone?”
“Well sir, this new ship that’s been attached, the Argos, I’m told it has the American Long Range ASM. They should have the range shortly, and if we combine a strike with our Tomahawks, that would make 100 missiles. Very good saturation, sir. We might even follow that up with the F-35’s again.”
“Understood.”
“Yes sir. If we’re going to hit them, the sooner the better. We’ll have to cover the landing at Victoria tomorrow. Wouldn’t it be best if we stop them before they can get into range to interfere with that?”
“Sound thinking, Mister Gill. Send to Argos Fire. Have them come to a heading of 355 degrees northwest. That should get their missiles in range directly.”
“Very good, sir.”
Wells could see that the Captain was eager to get into the swing of things, but the Admiral was playing a cautious opening here. Half his SSM strength resided in those Tomahawks and the missiles on Argos Fire. The remainder was another foreign buy, the Naval Strike Missile that was installed on many frigates three years earlier. Wells shook his head.
If we hadn’t done that, the Type 23’s would be sitting empty, with no offensive power at all, and a new air defense missile that has serious shortcomings against high supersonic targets. By god, the only reason this fleet is even half way ready for what’s in front of us is the fact that we’ve acquired better missiles from Norway and the United States. We haven’t a single domestically built missile that we can put on a ship or plane and have a decent chance of sinking an enemy warship at sea. Yet this Chinese fleet out there is armed to the teeth, and for one main purpose—to sink enemy ships.
Captain Gill wants to fight at range, which means we would fire now and then run, because closing to get the Naval Strike Missiles into it will expose us to the Full Monty—everything they have would be able to hit us. I hesitate to do what the Captain asked, only for the reason that once I do throw my long range missiles, then there would be little else we could do.
The Admiral had a sinking feeling now, but he would not have time to mull it through. Word came in from his F-35 on forward recon, and the enemy was firing. Alarms sounded throughout the big carrier, and now Wells knew he had one thing in hand when it came to defending this fleet. His F-35’s may not be ship killers, but by god, they could kill cruise missiles. He turned to Captain Gill.
“Freddy, they’re coming. Scramble the ready alert fighters at once.”
Chapter 9
Fourteen F-35’s would respond to that call from the three carriers. Some were held back to take up a ready CAP assignment, and the remainder were on the hangar decks, rigging out with SPEAR’s and Storm Shadows.
The radar picket plane, Livewire, had gone Bingo fuel, but would pass its controller role to another plane given the same code name, so Livewire lived on, a constant presence orbiting and monitoring the arrival and targeting of all the other fighters. They had been tracking the Chinese ships fired off missiles at the Vampires, getting a few kills, but another 20 pressed on toward the British fleet. At 07:00, with the sun up and clear skies, that wave of 14 F-35’s switched on their targeting radars and saw the Vampires, low on the sea. Seconds later, their Meteors started hunting them down. The crossfire of missiles had sliced through the enemy SSM’s and cut them to pieces.