The B-1B was not completely stealthy, but it would be almost impossible to distinguish the bomber from radar ground clutter during a low-level attack. The B-1B had been designed to penetrate deep into hostile territory, hugging the terrain at supersonic speeds, deploy nuclear cruise missiles, then egress the same way.
"Now," ordered the stocky, dark-haired copilot, glancing over his left shoulder at Simmons, who had access to a third transponder.
The normal transponder, with a primary and a secondary transmitter, was located on the console between the pilots' seats. A single-head backup transponder, with a separate, power supply, had been installed for the testing and evaluation of each B-2. The Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) had insisted on the third transponder for safety reasons. If the normal system, primary and secondary, failed during a test flight, the backup transponder would provide a means for ground controllers to follow the Stealth.
"Number three off," Simmons answered in a pensive, quiet manner.
Paul Evans sensed that something was wrong. "You okay, Larry?" Evans asked, half turning his head.
"Yeah," the diminutive technician answered, averting his eyes. Perspiration soaked his sage green flight suit. "Must've been the burritos I ate."
"Here we go," Matthews said as he lowered the Stealth's nose and reduced power on the four General Electric engines.
"We're only four seconds off," Evans reported, writing on his knee board.
"Computer tracking?" Matthews asked his right-seater.
"You bet, boss," Evans answered, smiling under his oxygen mask. "Locked on like a poor bachelor at a rich widows' convention."
Matthews chuckled softly as Shadow 37 penetrated the dense cloud cover, rocking gently in the light turbulence. The airspeed was passing 440 knots as the covert strike radar began to see "enemy" radar emissions.
Simmons squirmed in his seat, clearly ill at ease, as he adjusted the setting in his transponder head. The tech-rep fumbled with three circuit breakers, one for each transponder, then pulled all three and placed clips over the two marked primary and secondary. He then placed the temporary transponder switch to the on position, patted his zippered thigh pocket, and wiped his forehead with the back of his flight glove.
The numeric code that Simmons had dialed into his transponder, if energized by pushing the circuit breaker back into place, would automatically trigger alarms in ground-based radar facilities. Code 7700 indicated an emergency condition.
General Carlton W. Donovan, SAC commander, listened intently as he watched the time/event display tracking the "expected" positions of Shadow 37 and Ghost 25. The same information was being observed in the National Military Command Post at the Pentagon in Washington, D. C.
Only General Donovan, his immediate staff, and the bomber crews knew the course that would be flown to their respective targets. The only knowns were the two simulated targets, along with the fact that the bombers would return to Ellsworth Air Force Base, South Dakota, without refueling.
The classified operation was an emergency war order exercise to test the airborne crews against alerted ground and air defenses. Canadian and U. S. teams on board two AWACS aircraft would attempt to track the elusive bombers, while ground surveillance centers focused on detecting the intruders.
The mission would evaluate the long-range, low-level capability of the new Stealth B-2 against state-of-the-art bistatic radar installations. The highly classified radar units used transmitters and receivers placed in different locations. Four separate radar sites would try to foil the Stealth's ability to deflect their radar waves. Shadow 37's smooth, flowing shape did not have sharp edges or vertical surfaces for radar waves to bounce off. The B-2 had already proved capable of absorbing other types of radar beams in the composite wings and fuselage.
Donovan, a tall, lithe, white-haired man of fifty-seven, looked at his display board, which clearly defined the route of each bomber.
The two courses had been selected from a number of restricted training routes. Shadow 37 was marked in dark blue, Ghost 25 in bright orange. Both dotted lines commenced their irregular courses over the Attawapiskat River, seven miles east of Lansdowne House, the point where the two bombers separated.
Shadow flight followed a path north to Winisk Lake, Ontario Province, then northeast to the southern tip of Belcher Islands in Hudson Bay. From there, the Stealth bomber would turn west, descend to 400 feet above the bay, and traverse 255 nautical miles of open water. The simulated target was Fort Severn, Ontario.
After the strike, Shadow flight would fly a direct course south to Duluth, Minnesota, then southwest to Ellsworth Air Force Base, where the classified bomber would land. After refueling, the B-2 crew would depart immediately for their permanent home, Whiteman Air Force Base, Knob Noster, Missouri. Shadow 37 was the second Stealth bomber assigned to the base. Whiteman had been scheduled to have a complement of twelve B-2s.
Ghost flight would fly an irregular, low-level course west of the Stealth, strike a simulated target in Manitoba Province, then recover at Ellsworth. The 337th Bombardment Squadron B-1B would also refuel, then fly home to Dyess Air Force Base, Texas.
"Well, Walt," Donovan said with a pleasant smile, "we'll see if your boys are on their toes this evening."
The four-star general enjoyed working with the scrappy Canadian fighter pilot and longtime friend Maj. Gen. Stirling Walter Bothwell, Royal Canadian Air Force.
"We'll bi-god give 'er a go," Bothwell shot back, chewing on an unlit cigar. "May be a bit dicey, general."
Both officers were positioned in the rear of the SAC control center on an elevated platform. Each had a commanding view of the continuously changing tracking graphics on the brightly lighted display board.
"If Shadow flight is on time," General Donovan said with a serious look on his face, "they should be turning west over Belcher Islands. This leg will be interesting."
The Stealth flying wing, with its dull charcoal finish, rolled out of the steep left turn and started a descent toward the pitch-black waters of Hudson Bay. Shadow 37, half the size of the Rockwell International B-1B, would be difficult to spot under any conditions except broad daylight. It would be virtually impossible to locate close to the surface of the bay.
The secret bomber, only slightly longer than an F-15 Eagle fighter, measured 69 feet from nose to tail. The smoothly contoured flying wing stretched 172 feet from wing tip to wing tip. The Stealth's wingspan, almost equivalent to that of a B-52 Stratofortress, contributed to its awkward appearance.
Matthews and Evans, using their eight multipurpose displays, continually cross-checked their altimeter readouts with the radio altimeter. Both pilots felt a series of bumps as the bomber flew through a low-lying cloud deck. The soft, bluish white cockpit lights cast a faint glow on the "glass" instrument panel.
Shadow 37 had been equipped with EICAS (engine instrument and crew alerting system), the final link to the "all-glass" cockpit. The synoptic displays monitored engine, electric, hydraulic, fuel, air-conditioning, pressurization, pneumatic, and other ancillary systems. The glass tubes, when called upon, or during an anomaly, also projected aircraft systems diagrams resembling the illustrations in the flight manual. If the B-2 experienced a ground or an airborne emergency, the color-coded electronic displays would come to life with motion.
Matthews checked the operating parameters of the four powerful General Electric engines. Fuel flow, rpms, temperature. All in the green.
The four nonafterburning engines, each producing 19,000 pounds of thrust, had been designed to use a fuel additive and cold-air baffle system to eliminate contrails. The highly visible white contrails would give away the bomber's position to the human eye. The exhaust outlets, filtering through V-shaped ceramic tiles similar to those on the space shuttles, were on top of the smooth wings.