“Wait a minute, Captain. I have flown Mirages and whenever we were jammed or someone tried to spoof us we could tell by how the radar scope responded.”
“Yes, sir, but in this instance there are no telltale signals to reveal the presence of an external source. Our electronic attack targets no specific system. It disturbs the electromagnetic waves in the targeted area. You might say we are jamming the atmosphere, not the ship. The ship personnel will believe either their systems are experiencing atmospheric difficulties or they are having a system malfunction. They may suspect an electronic attack after they have exhausted all other avenues to correct the problems.”
“Are you telling me this will not fool them indefinitely?”
“I would say we have twenty-four hours before someone figures out that it is an external force disrupting their electronic picture and capabilities,” the captain said firmly, his confidence growing with the conversation.
“Can they sail out of range?”
“Of course, sir. The electronic warfare network is disguised as coastal surveillance platforms located at equal distances along the coast. As long as they are within twenty to thirty miles of the coast their sensors are useless.”
“Will it affect their fire control radars the same way?”
“No, sir. Fire control radars have limited range, but they have the power to burn through the electromagnetic disturbance, much like their Aegis radar. It’s easier to jam them directly, but American fire control radars are very complex with multiple jumping frequencies. Most fire control radars can avoid electronic warfare jamming techniques and some, like their HARM missiles, can use them to their targeting advantage. And, of course, their sonar will be unaffected.”
“And, their communications?”
“They will lose all their communications, including satellite.”
Alqahiray nodded and strolled back to his seat. Good, they can have their radars. Radars were limited in range.
As long as they could not communicate, they were his.
The DD-21 class depended on computer and communications links with other ships to fight effectively. Everyone waited until he sat down.
“Okay, Captain. You may continue.” He saluted.
“Thank you. Colonel.”
Along the coast hidden antennas inside mock coastal surveillance platforms transmitted a coordinated broad band of oscillating radio wave frequencies of multi modulated energy. The signals rose in intensity as the artificial phenomenon disrupted the surrounding electromagnetic environment. The captain nodded at the operator, who punched in a series of computer commands. Additional instructions implemented certain subprograms within the operating system. The covert Libyan electronic warfare attack subtly distorted the USS Gearing’s communications. The American warship lost contact with the rest of the world one minute after the system activated.
Fifteen minutes passed before the captain turned to Colonel Alqahiray and Walid.
“Sir, it is done. Electronic communications are impossible in the Gulf of Sidra. No changes have been reflected in their electronic parameters.
Any orders we wish to give must be via landline as long as we are transmitting. Aircraft above one thousand meters will still be able to communicate.”
“What do you mean no change?”
“Well, sir, if they suspected they were being jammed, they would have changed their electronic settings in search for a clear frequency. I don’t think they’d be successful, but if they were successful, then we’d have to revisit their electronic profile and that means bringing ours down while we are doing it.”
“Wait a minute. Captain. I was led to understand that when this electronic blanket descends over an adversary it’s like an impregnable glass bowl. It captures and makes their electronic eyes blind!” He swished his hand in front of his eyes.
“Yes, sir,” the Captain replied, looking around, at the technicians who were monitoring the EW array. “And it does. Colonel. Plus, the system changes automatically when they change their parameters. So we should be undetectable.
But if they successfully change to a technical setting that our system fails to respond to correctly, then we may have to bring it down to revisit their electronic profile. You change the eyes, then you have to change the glass bowl.”
The colonel leaned back.
“Walid, include electronic warfare officers with the proclamation on intelligence officers for a better world.” He leaned down and whispered to Walid, “Never keep anyone around who knows more than you do.”
At Benghazi, the Nanuchka patrol boat, loaded with four surface-to-surface missiles, and the Libyan Foxtrot submarine, outfitted with sixteen torpedoes, sailed slowly out of port. Their movement was undetected by overhead Western satellites.
“Colonel, Colonel Gazzelin is on the line.”
“Walid, log events zero one two and zero one three as executed. Zero one four is starting. Ask the admiral to wait while I finish with this phone call.”
Colonel Alqahiray kept Colonel Gazzelin on the phone for twenty minutes going over tomorrow’s fighter plans for Tripoli and Benghazi airfield. When he finally hung up and took the admiral’s line, he received a full blast from the older, more senior ranking officer, who was unaccustomed to waiting. Alqahiray held his temper until the admiral finished his barrage, then apologized and explained the delay, which seemed to appease the admiral.
They talked for ten minutes with Alqahiray inviting the admiral to share the podium with the ruling junta at the celebrations following this momentous occasion. The admiral wanted to know if Alqahiray had heard anything about something called Jihad Wahid. Alqahiray pleaded innocent, promised to investigate, and would phone the admiral if he found out anything. The admiral shared with Alqahiray his own plans to remain on the base. Tomorrow, the admiral would be at his own operations center during the planned actions. As one military professional to another the admiral confided about some Western wine and British port he had cached to share with his wardroom following their success. He invited the colonel to participate.
“I wish I could be there. Admiral; unfortunately, the junta demands my presence here.”
“I understand, Colonel. I will save a bottle of the best for you.”
“Thank you. Admiral. I will pray for your success.”
“And, I too for you. Colonel.”
THEY HUNG UP. THE ADMIRAL TURNED TO HIS AIDE.
“What do we know of the colonel? He’s not one of those hard-core Islamic fundamentalists who wants to turn Libya into another Egypt or Iran, is he?”
“I don’t know, sir,” his aide lied. He took the bottle of port from the admiral.
The aide’s eyes narrowed as he bit his lower lip in a successful effort to keep his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself. Every time he touched the bottle of alcohol he sinned against Allah, but in the spread of the true religion it was necessary for warriors to make sacrifice. And, soon, Admiral, the aide thought, you will enjoy that sacrifice yourself.
“Did you say something, Ahmad?”
“Oh, no, sir. I was just saying that I didn’t know anything about the colonel’s background.” He’d have to be more careful. He had been unaware that he had mumbled aloud his thoughts.
Four hours later the old Nanuchka missile patrol boat, trailed by a Libyan Foxtrot submarine, passed the six-mile channel marker due west of Benghazi Navy Base. The Nanuchka activated a Don Kay surface search radar. Russian merchant ships used Don Kay radars. This one had been removed from a dilapidated vessel found rusting pier side in a small port north of Benghazi. Rewired and restored, the radar gave the Nanuchka an electronic signature of a merchant vessel.