Executive Intent

“I see the destroyer!” Frodo said. They were going to pass up the starboard side; Boxer nudged the stick left. It looked to Frodo as if they were going to fly right over it! Suddenly he saw puffs of smoke shooting from each side of the vessel. “Guns…!”

“Close-in weapon system!” Boxer shouted. “Think you can catch us, Comrades? Think again.”

“Jesus…!” It looked as if they were going to fly right through the smoke from the cannons’ muzzles! Suddenly a fast-paced beepbeepbeepbepp sounded. “Missile guidance!”

“It’s a false signal, Frodo,” Boxer said. He couldn’t believe how calm she sounded. “No warning from the computer. It’s a false missile-guidance signal, trying to provoke us to do something. Time for our close-up, Mr. DeMille.” Just as they passed the destroyer, Boxer rolled the Vampire bomber into a ninety-degree bank left turn, darting just ahead of the destroyer. Frodo thought for sure the left wingtip was going to drag the water! Boxer strained to look out the left cockpit window and managed to catch a glimpse of the vapor cloud created by the supersonic shock wave roll over the destroyer’s bow. “Have a face wash, courtesy of the U.S. Air Force,” she crowed happily.

“Golf-band radar…Echo-Fox radar, not locked on,” Frodo reported. Boxer rolled wings-level, then started a turn toward the aircraft carrier itself. “Why are they shooting at us? I thought this was all for show.”

“Someone obviously didn’t get the memo, Frodo,” Boxer said. “But I’m not going to let the Russkies push us around. I think we’ll take this pass down the port side of the carrier. Any helicopters up?”

“Yes, starboard side.”

“Good. Get your cameras ready, boys.”

“Echo-Fox radar has intermittent lock-on, Golf-band radar not locked on. Carrier’s one o’clock, ten miles.”

“Where are the fighters?”

“Six o’clock, thirty miles, fifteen thousand feet.”

“We’ll make the pass, then climb north to clear the fighters,” Boxer said. “Any fighters on the catapults?”

“Yes, two moving onto the forward cats.”

“I’ll stay a little farther out in case they decide to launch them,” Boxer said. “It’ll spoil the picture but they should still get a nice shot.”

“American attack bomber, this is the carrier Putin,” the Russian controller radioed once again. “This is your final warning, alter course away from this task force immediately. Acknowledge!”

“I thought you already gave us your final warning, Comrade,” Boxer said on intercom. “Just one more flyby and we’re outta here. I expect to see the pictures on the Internet by the time we get home.”

“Admiral, American B-1 bomber on the port stern quarter, eighteen kilometers, altitude less than one hundred meters, approaching at Mach one-point-one-five!” the captain of the Putin shouted into the phone.

“Is he radiating, Captain?”

“Defensive electronic jamming signals only. No attack radars.”

The admiral paused for a long moment; then: “How close has he come to the task force, Captain?”

“He flew supersonic less than a kilometer from the destroyer Vysotskiy at ninety degrees bank. I thought there was going to be a collision! The Vysotskiy tried to warn him away with their close-in weapon system-the gun’s guidance radar was completely jammed.”

“What about electro-optical tracking? It is daylight, Captain!”

“The crewman manning the optical tracker took cover-he thought the bomber was going to crash right into him. Several men were injured by the shock wave.”

Another pause; then: “I think the American bomber is hostile, Captain,” the admiral said in a remarkably calm and even voice, as if he was reading from a script. “Sound battle stations, full tactical engagement…all weapons released.”

The pass by the aircraft carrier was farther away, but they were still well within a half mile when Boxer made her supersonic high-bank right turn in front of the carrier. Frodo felt as if his arms weighed a hundred pounds each as the g-forces increased.

“Okay, Frodo, fun time’s over,” Boxer said. She started a left turn and headed away from the Russian task force, staying one hundred feet above the ocean. She pulled the power back to full military power to conserve as much fuel as possible-she knew she was already eating into her reserves by doing the low-altitude, high-speed maneuvers. “Where are those fighters?”

Frodo activated the laser radar. “Closest formation is southeast, twenty miles, fifteen thousand feet,” he reported. “The other formation is…” He paused as a warning tone sounded. “India-Juliet-band target engagement radar active!” Frodo shouted. “It’s locked on!”

Suddenly the threat warning computer blared, “Warning, warning, missile guidance, SA-N-6!”

“Here it comes!” Boxer shouted. She immediately punched the throttles into full afterburner.