conference room, since I do not want a ricochet to damage the equipment.”
He turned back to Tombstone. “And I will ensure that you accompany
them. I would not want you to miss the lesson especially arranged for
you.”
Tombstone prayed that the fear and anger pounding through his body
weren’t showing on his face. In his most impassive voice, he said, “She’s
a naval officer, nothing more. You can’t force me to do anything by
harming her.”
He felt Rogov’s gaze prying at the facade he carefully held in place.
“Perhaps so,” the Cossack said finally. “Perhaps. Let me increase the
stakes. Tell me, Admiral, have you been notified of a missing civilian
vessel in the area? A large fishing vessel?”
Cold coursed through his body. “No, I haven’t,” he lied.
“I think you have. That fishing vessel was merely a demonstration of
what one submarine can do to a ship. I believe you call the boat an
Oscar.”
“I fail to see what that has to do with me,” Tombstone answered.
“That same submarine is now fifty miles astern of you. If you fail to
comply with my orders, I will send every man and woman on your ship to the
bottom of the ocean.”
CHAPTER 14
Friday, 30 December
1210 Local
Tomcat 201
“Get us back in the fight,” Bird Dog snapped. Every second of the
last five minutes of tanking, he’d felt increasingly impatient. Somewhere
not so far away, the Bear-J orbited menacingly, datalinking down to the
submarine aft of the carrier. Eliminate the targeting information, and the
submarine was less of a threat.
“Bear’s on three-one-zero true, range ninety-two miles,” Gator
announced. “No LINK data from Jefferson, but I’m holding him bigger than
shit.”
“He’s alone?”
“Looks to be. Shouldn’t be much of a knife fight.”
“He carries some self-defense missiles, but I can shoot from outside
his engagement envelope,” Bird Dog answered. “Right?”
“I think so. Probably.”
“What kind of answer is that?”
“The best one I can give you,” Gator said, exasperated. “Look, I can
read the latest Intel reports as well as the next guy, but are you willing
to bet your ass–not to mention mine–on what they say? They’ve missed
this whole skirmish developing, but you want me to tell you their offensive
weapons data is the gospel? Sorry, Bird Dog. There’re not enough
detections on Bear-J’s for me to be real happy about this.”
“They might have long-range air-to-air missiles? Hell.” Bird Dog
slammed the Tomcat into a steep climb. “Nice of you to finally mention it.
I think I’ll just grab a little airspace while I can. And I thought this
was going to be like shooting fish in a barrel.”
“It probably will be,” Gator shot back. “I just don’t want you
getting too complacent up there. Chances are that you can stand off at
maximum range and blow his ass out of the air.”
“I’ll try the Sparrow first. Just inside thirty miles–no, let’s go
on into twenty. That’ll give us a margin of safety.” The semiactive
radar-homing AIM-7 missile used continuous wave or pulse-doppler radar for
target illumination. It was more effective in a nonmaneuvering intercept
than in a dogfight, as the Navy’s experience in Libya and Iran had proven.
Later engagements during Desert Storm showed improved performance from the
new solid-state electronics and better pilot training, but most pilots were
still reluctant to count on it close in.
“Might as well,” Gator agreed. “if nothing else, you’ll dump some
weight off the wings and improve our fuel figures. Be more maneuverable,
too, since you’ll dump five hundred ten pounds per missile.”
“Like I need maneuverable against a Bear.”
“And like I said, there’s a chance he can fight back. You got
missiles inbound, maneuverable’s a real good thing to be.”
“If he’s carrying long-range air-to-air missiles, that might explain
why he’s out here without fighter protection,” Bird Dog said suddenly.
“That’s been bothering me, trying to figure out why he’d be out here all
alone.”
“It might at that,” Gator said, ending the sentence with a harsh grunt
as the G-forces tugged at his guts. “That never did make much sense. The
Russians aren’t ones for subtle, probing feints. They’d rather slam you