Just then Kellerman noticed several low-flying objects on her ISAR side-locking radar display, overtaking them from the left. They formed a slowly dispersing trail of subsonic missiles, all traveling north westbound. “Tomahawks away, Tomahawks away!” she cried out.
“Missiles tracking… active seekers on…. bad track on one Scorpion, looks like a tracking fault,” Karbayjal called out. Carter could see the missile plume from the right pylon wobble a bit, seconds before exploding. “Lost track on one missile.”
“Descending, crew,” Carter called out. “Nancy, watch my redlines. Here we go…” Carter pulled the Megafortress’s eight throttles to 70-percent power, waited for fifty knots of airspeed to bleed off, raised the airbrakes, then tipped the Megafortress into a steep 70-degree right bank, keeping forward pressure on the control stick but keeping the long, pointed SST-style nose on the horizon. With no more lift being developed by the huge wings, the four-hundred-thousand-pound bomber descended like Lucifer cast into Hell.
The radar target on his Cyrano-IV fire-control radar had suddenly started descending, so fast the radar could hardly keep up with it — it looked like it was crashing, and no one had shot a missile yet…
Just then his radar threat-receiver flashed a “Missile Launch” indication. “Liang flight, break!” he shouted on the radio. In a pre-determined sequence, the J-7 fighter climbed and turned right, and the JS-7 fighter, because it was more powerful and could climb faster to re-attack, descended and turned left. The JS-7 fighter also carried radar-jamming and chaff and flare pods, and the pilot made sure all were activated as he brought his weapons on-line and prepared to attack. “Fayling, Fayling, Liang-Two flight under missile attack!” He dumped chaff and flare bundles, rolled right, went to military power, and raised the nose to re-acquire the bomber… or whatever it was.
Just as he did, he saw a flash of light above and a bit behind him, then a growing trail of fire, and he knew his wingman was hit. “Fayling, Liang-507 is hit. 507, 507 can you hear me? You are on fire. Repeat you are on fire. Eject! Eject! Eject!” No response. The trail of fire began to grow as the J-7 fighter spiraled to the sea and disappeared.
The radar blips first appeared as helicopters and were classified as such by the destroyer’s Sea Eagle three-dimensional search radar, but it was quickly obvious that the air target was climbing and accelerating much too quickly for a rotary-wing machine. The radar operator aboard the destroyer Kaifeng immediately rang his superior officer in the ship’s Combat Information Center.
“Sir, rapidly moving air target launched from a vessel in the Sterett surface-action group, bearing one-four-eight, speed… speed approaching four hundred knots and accelerating, altitude decreasing to below one hundred meters, range five-zero nautical miles.” There was no aircraft carrier out there, so it could only be one thing — “Suspected Tomahawk cruise missiles in flight…”
The officer in CIC reacted immediately: he hit the alarm button and rang the line direct to the bridge: “Bridge, CIC, missile alert, missile alert, we have suspected American cruise missiles being launched from the Sterett surface action group.”
“Bridge copies,” came the reply. “Give us a count and stand by to engage.”
“CIC copies.”
“Sir! Aircraft warning, attack warning, Liang-Two fighter group reports they are under fighter attack…”
“Fighter attack!” the commander shouted. “What fighters? You said there was only one bomber up there!”
“Liang-Two reports a missile attack, sir. He reports his wingman has been hit by a missile. Sir, the B-52 bomber aircraft rapidly decelerating, range closing to sixty nautical miles, airspeed six-one-zero and accelerating, altitude now seven thousand meters… six thousand meters… five thousand… sir, heavy jamming on my scope… attempting frequency jumping… heavy jamming persisting on all search frequencies. I cannot hop away to clear frequency!”
“Sir, destroyer Kaifeng reports incoming Tomahawk cruise missiles from the southeast and has issued an air-defense warning for all vessels. He also reports a suspected B-52 bomber in a rapid descent heading northwest, and heavy radar jamming on all frequencies. There was also a report about a fighter attack, number and type unknown.” Captain Jhijun Lin of the People’s Liberation Army Navy destroyer Jinan nodded resolutely. “Sound general quarters, alert the task force, begin intermittent radar search pattern. We can expect our own air threats any—”
“Sir! Frigate Yingtan reports radar contact, aircraft, bearing two-zero-five, range forty-seven nautical miles, altitude… altitude three hundred meters, sir, speed four hundred seventy knots. No IFF codes observed. They report possible multiple inbounds on this bearing.”
“Understood,” Captain Jhijun acknowledged. As the combat-readiness alarm sounded throughout the ship, the manual track operator on the bridge of the EF4-class destroyer Jinan drew in the position of the radar contact on a large grease board. “I want a positive identification immediately.”
It was finally beginning, Captain Jhijun told himself. Although the intruder aircraft were detected very late — sea-skimming targets should be detectable at twenty miles by the frigate Yingtan's Sea Eagle radar, but targets at three hundred meters should be seen easily at fifty miles — he wished it were starting a bit more dramatically.
After learning what the American Air Battle Force had in their arsenal on the island of Guam, he would have expected an attack by B-1 or FB-111 bombers, flying supersonic at sea-skimming altitudes. From these radar contact’s flight profiles, these appeared to be nothing more than B-52 bombers lumbering in. And they were coming in from the south, which was totally expected as well — the two layers of destroyers, frigates, and patrol boats in the Philippine Sea east of Mindanao were designed to herd the American bombers in the only “safe” flight path they could take — fly in from the south right into the mouth of Davao Gulf.
“Sir, missile warning. Yingtan's escorts report missiles inbound, no count, all sea-skimmers. Patrol boats maneuvering to intercept. Good radar track on all inbounds, intercept confidence is high. Identity now confirmed by flight profile as B-52 bombers.”
So it was confirmed — not B-1s, only B-52 bombers. An easy kill.
The B-52s were flying right into a trap. Four frigates, one destroyer, and sixteen antiaircraft escort patrol boats were waiting for anyone stupid enough to allow themselves to be steered around by surface threats. Two of the frigates, Yingtan stationed on the southern perimeter and Xiamen on the northern side, were armed with short-range Hong Qian-61 surface-to-air missiles — deadly within their limited range — but his destroyer Jinan, in the center of the two-hundred-kilometer-long gauntlet, had the HQ-91 surface-to-air missile system, a licensed copy of the French Masurca medium-range SAM system. The HQ-91 was deadly out to forty-five kilometers even to low-flying supersonic aircraft — this B-52 would be an easy kill. Jinan had already seen action — it was that ship that had successfully guided the fighters in on the arrogant American Navy fighters over the Celebes Sea not too long ago. The little patrol boats were deadly as well — their guns could knock down any antiship missile in the American inventory and throw up a cloud of lead in front of any aircraft stupid enough to stray within a few kilometers of them.