WHOOSH! The jet went past the second fire truck, and the fire fighters didn’t see a feel or feel a thing. They most likely heard the roar of the jet go by at idle, but they were busy looking at the foam burying the two commercial airliners inside a hangar where there appeared to a fire.
“After landing checklist,” Wu told Liu, as Wu pulled off the runway and taxied in the dark to the front of the firehouse.
“Roger… close call there, Wu,” Liu said, as he ran through the checklist to raise the flaps, monitor the ground controller frequency, and do some other cockpit chores.
“Look, Liu, I’ll call General Chen and explain to him what’s going on. I’ll park here temporarily, let you out to hit the bathroom, then we’ll park over there,” nodding to large open space. “You’ll hear me pull away.”
“Thanks, Wu. I have GOT to go to the bathroom. See you in a few minutes.”
“Hey, ah, leave your helmet here. No need to take it in the toilet with you,” Wu said, starting to lead the way for Ford.
“Yeah, unplugging my helmet and off intercom.”
“See you around, Liu” Wu said, reflecting to himself, that he would never see him again.
“I’m just going to the bathroom. You’re saying goodbye like you’re leaving.” Liu said.
Liu was off the intercom and down and out of the jet in seconds, running to the firehouse. Wu watched him run off into the darkness, and towards the two open bays where the apparatuses park.
“No, Liu… I am leaving,” Wu said out loud.
Mark, Robert and Emily sat in the Combat Direction Center, the CDC, looking at the radar feeds for the ship, radar feeds for other ships in its sailing party, and a variety of flat panel televisions that aired the news.
“Sir, something here you should look at. Want me to put it up?” the Navy Petty Officer working the intercepted radar repeater for Tianjin Airport. The Navy was able to tap into their feed and watch the air traffic for all the runways and vicinity. Airport traffic inbound was to runway 16R, or 16 Right. Each target showed the name of the aircraft, its speed, direction, and altitude, depicted on the screen. Except one.
“Yup, put her up,” said Lincoln Commanding Officer Captain Chuck “Muddy” Waters, an F-18C Hornet pilot, and fully trained naval aviator and aircraft carrier ship captain.
“Sir, this is a short recording of the radar feed from the Tianjin Class D airspace just moments ago. Note all the commercial traffic lined up and landing on the right… ahh… runway 16 right. I’ll fast forward it for you. Then, look at this. Here, and here,” pointing to the left runway, “you see a blip here at pretty good speed. No transponder for the aircraft identifying itself. Then another blip and the radar sweeps. An object looks like it’s doing a turn… you know… a rapid turn to burn off airspeed. No other data displayed. Then another blip when the radar sweep comes around again, and you can see it slowed down a bit. Target is now over the runway, then… it’s gone, as if it landed.”
“Thanks, Petty Officer McGarry,” said Muddy, then turning to face Mark. “Your guy, Mark?” asked Muddy.
“Sure looks like it. While I don’t want to get into properties of stealth and minimal cross section, that would be about when we see him. Coming into land. How old is this recording?”
“Air Ops, how old is this footage?” McGarry yelled inside to the far end of the CDC. A voice yelled back “six minutes”.
“Six minutes, huh? Okay, that’s about the window. Night time… just after sunset… was the window. Depending on the turn around with our pilot getting in, and flight time to us, we may see them within the hour,” Mark said.
Emily looked at Muddy, and decided to throw in her opinion, now that Devil Dragon seemed to have landed. “Captain, I know you talked with the Admiral. May I suggest the barricade going up sooner rather than later? Certainly, we don’t want to meddle in your ship’s activities, but this aircraft flies at a high rate of speed, and we hope they will slow down to appropriate landing speeds. We both know we only have once chance to retrieve her.”
“Yes, Emily, absolutely, the Admiral and I discussed that and I concur with his uneasiness. His concern. I’ll have our crew start working on it right away,” as the Muddy nodded to the Executive Officer, known as Big XO, standing over to the side and listening in. “Got to tell you, though, landing on the ship without a tailhook is downright fucking scary. That’s why we have one. To stop. Your guy Stevens never did it without one, I’m sure, so he’s relying on our little volleyball net to catch him. Like catching a fish in a net. Very non-standard. Just want you to know we could either catch him successfully, or have a raging fire on our hands. Your Stevens better be one hell of a pilot.”
“Thank you, Muddy. We understand. Yeah, he is one hell of a pilot. On another note. I also know you have your sprinkler nozzles available for foam. Do you apply that beforehand?” Emily said, looking at the Captain, then the XO.
“Usually, our deck crew uses the Aqueous Film Forming Foam, or AFFF, to put out an aircraft fire after an aircraft develops an emergency on the flight or hangar deck. Ahh… let’s go with the foam if something happens, not before. I don’t plan on something happening, though. If your Ford Stevens guy is carrier qualified, like you say he is, he’ll get her down on the deck. Barricade will do its job.”
Robert was more quiet than usual, and was able to absorb everything coming in by watching and listening. The carrier intrigued him, and he was impressed by the ship and the dedication of the crew. Robert also noticed on the weather radar screen that rain was coming.
“Is that going to be an issue?” Robert asked, pointing to the green and yellow blob, signifying moisture, about 50 miles ahead of the ship’s path. “A few years ago, rain brought down one of our B-2’s in Guam. Stealth aircraft are great, but they are a tricky bunch. Not saying that will happen tonight… just thinking through things.”
These guys ask a lot of questions, Muddy thought to himself. More than the usual visitors out to the ship. “As it gets closer, we can take a look. Not sure if your jet is all-weather, but ours are. Traditionally, the Chinese have built and flown all-weather birds, so if I had to make an educated guess, it would be all right. The secondary question is the sea-state, ahh, how much the Abe will pitch and roll, making it a challenge to land,” explained Muddy. “At night, no less.”
Over the ship’s loud speaker system, the 1MC, announced:
“FLIGHT OPERATIONS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. CASE THREE WEATHER CONDITIONS. FLIGHT OPERATIONS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. CASE THREE WEATHER CONDITIONS. ROTARY AND FIXED WING OPERATIONS.”
The XO came back in and handed Muddy a folder with a cover sheet on it, meaning it was classified. He read it, then looked up at Mark. “Have a message here for you from the Deputy Director of DIA. Name is Calvin Burns. Know him?”
“Yeah, we work directly for him. What does he say?” Mark acknowledged.
“Says here ‘DIA Operations Center sent message traffic that three cell phones were detected in the middle of the Tianjin Airport. Two phones just off the runway in front of the airport firehouse, and one a close distance away in the grass between the two main runways, runway 16 left and right. Southern end of the airport.’ Want me to keep reading?” Muddy asked.