Sky Masters

McLanahan set up the navigation radios to help Cobb find the initial approach fix, but couldn’t shake the powerful impression HADES had left on him. It was a devastating weapon and would represent a serious threat and escalation to any conflict. No, it wasn’t a nuclear device, but the fact that one aircraft could drop one bomb and kill all forms of life within a one-to-two-mile radius was pretty sobering. Just one B-52 bomber loaded with thirty to forty such weapons could destroy a small city.

Thankfully, though, there wasn’t a threat on the horizon that could possibly justify using HADES. Things were pretty quiet in the world. A lot of the countries that had regularly resorted to aggression before were now opting for peaceful, negotiated settlements. Flare-ups and regional disputes were still present, but no nation wanted war with another, because the possibility for massive destruction with fewer military forces was a demonstrated reality.

And for McLanahan that was just as well. Better to put weapons like HADES hack in storage or destroy them than to use them.

What Patrick McLanahan did not know, however, was that half a world away, a conflict was brewing that could once again force him and his fellow flyers to use such awesome weapons.

1

Near the Spratly Islands, South China Sea

Wednesday, 8 June 1994, 2247 hours local

Just as fifty-seven-year-old Fleet Admiral Yin Po L’un, commander of the Spratly Island flotilla, South China Sea Fleet, People’s Liberation Army Navy of China, reached for his mug of tea from the young steward, his ship heeled sharply to port and the tray with his tea went flying across the bridge of his flotilla’s flagship. Well, evening tea would be delayed another fifteen minutes. Sometimes, he thought, his lot in life was as if the gods had sent a fire-breathing dragon to destroy a single lamb — and the dragon finishes drowning in the sea along the way.

The skipper of Yin’s flagship, Captain Lubu Vin Li, chewed the young steward up one side and down the other for his clumsiness. Yin looked at the poor messboy, a thin, beady-eyed kid obviously with some Tibetan stock in him. “Captain, just let him bring the damned tea, please,” Yin said. Lubu bowed in acknowledgment and dismissed the steward with a slap on the chest and a stem growl.

“I apologize for that accident, sir,” Lubu said as he returned to stand beside Yin’s seat on the bridge of the Hong Lung, Admiral Yin’s flagship. “As you know, we have been in typhoon-warning-condition three for several days; I expect all the crew to be able to stand on their own two feet by now.”

“Your time would be better spent speaking with Engineering and determining the reason for that last roll, Captain,” Yin said without looking at his young destroyer skipper. “The Hong Lung has the world’s best stabilizer system, and we are not in a full gale yet — the stabilizers should have been able to dampen the ship’s motion. See to it.” Lubu’s face went blank, then pained as he realized his mistake, then resolute as he bowed and turned to the ship’s intercom to order the chief engineer to the bridge. The most sophisticated vessel in the People’s Liberation Navy should not be wallowing around in only force-three winds, Yin thought — it only made the rest of his unit so unsightly.

Admiral Yin turned to glance at the large, thick plastic panel on which the location and condition of the other vessels in his flotilla were plotted with a grease pencil. Radar and sonar data from his ships were constantly fed to the crewman in charge of the bridge plot, who kept it updated by alternately wiping and redrawing the symbols as fast as he could. His ships were roughly arranged in a wide protective diamond around the flagship. The formation was now headed southwest, pointing into the winds which were tossing around even his big flagship.

Admiral Yin Po L’un’s tiny Spratly Island flotilla currently consisted of fourteen small combatants, averaging around fifteen years of age, with young, inexperienced crews on them. Four to six of those ships were detached into a second task force, which cruised within the Chinese zone when the other ships were near the neutral zone.