little more than a high-tech flashlight.
The Ground Laser Designator, or GLD, produced a beam of infrared light,
invisible to the unaided eye but crystal clear to the proper optics or
instrumentation. That intense spot of red light on the Stingray could
not be seen by its crew, but somewhere in the night sky, colder, more
efficient eyes were already locking onto the light, hunting it … and
closing in. Elsewhere in the city, he knew, there were other small
teams of men, Marine “technical advisors” working with loyalist That
counterparts, sealing off the city from the rebel attacks they knew must
come.
It was, Loomis reflected, one hell of a way to fight a war.
0521 hours, 21 January
Firefly One, twenty miles west of Bangkok
“Victor Bravo Three, this is Firefly One.” Commander Steve Murcheson
nudged the stick of his A-6 to adjust his course slightly, watching the
terrain unfold on his Visual Display Indicator. “We have contact with
Zulu Three Kilo and the lamp is lit. Commencing run, over.”
“Firefly One, this is Victor Bravo,” the voice of a Hawkeye air traffic
controller replied. “We have a flight of Marine helos in your area,
bearing three-three-niner at forty five hundred, range two-zero. You
are clear for your approach, over.”
“Roger that. TRAM running and the pickle is hot.” The TRAM turret
under the Intruder’s nose registered the modulated laser light reflected
from the target some twenty miles to the east. The Target Recognition
and Attack Multi-sensor fed tracking data to the long, sleek weapon
slung from the attack aircraft’s starboard inboard weapons station. The
bomb was already active, its robot eye following that same distant point
of light.
Lieutenant Commander Simms, Firefly One’s Bombardier/ Navigator, studied
the view of his own VDI, watching a computer graphic image of what the
TRAM was seeing, then switching to FLIR to give him an infrared view of
the terrain ahead. The A-6’s own TRAM could illuminate a target with a
laser, but this particular target was in the middle of a city where the
slightest error could kill hundreds of noncombatants. It was safer
using a Marine spotter on the ground. He locked in the target.
“Positive ID,” the BN said. “Skipper powered up, release on auto. We’re
go.”
“Rog,” Murcheson said. He switched to the tactical frequency. “Firefly
Lead, all go and in the game!”
Sunrise was less than an hour off, and the predawn sky was brightening
rapidly. Murcheson could see the buildings of central Bangkok rising
before him, beyond the silvery curve of the Chao Phraya River. They
were approaching from the west, descending now to less than three
thousand feet. Off the right wing, the waters of the Gulf of Thailand
were a misty blue-violet band touching the sky.
The intruder’s on-board computer continued to monitor the aircraft’s
course, speed, altitude, the location of the laser-illuminated target,
and the input from the BN’s console which set its operational
parameters. Murcheson kept the Intruder flying on a dead-level course,
making minute changes in course as directed by the computer.
“We’re getting close,” Simms said. “Any moment n-”
The computer’s release signal caught them both by surprise. The Skipper
II laser-guided air-to-ground missile was fourteen feet long and weighed
over twelve hundred pounds, and as the AGM kicked free, the Intruder
bucked skyward. “Breakaway!” Murcheson snapped. He opened the
air-to-ground channel again. “Zulu Three Kilo, this is Firefly! Package
on the way!”
Murcheson brought the Intruder’s stick left and skimmed north across the
city. Buildings flashed past, canyons of concrete and steel. This
close to the ground, the sensation of speed was breathtaking. “Wheeeoh!”
he cried over the open mike. “Just like Star Wars! Firefly Lead, out
of the hunt!”
The missile flashed out of the near darkness, a point of light on the
unreeling white line of a contrail. First introduced in 1985, Skipper
II had been created by the Naval Weapons Center from off-the-shelf
components, the solid-fuel motor of the outdated Shrike missile mated to
the warhead of a Mark 83 one-thousand-pound bomb. Its seeker head kept
the spot of infrared laser light centered in its field of view,
adjusting the rocket’s fins as the target moved.