Brown, Dale - Independent 01 (21 page)

           
There was
nothing on the screen mentioning the
Nimitz
or
California
,
so she used an arrow key on a small keyboard to scroll through several pages of
SBR contract-data reports. The list was very long, and she worked the arrow key
faster and faster—

           
“Ann, hold
it.” Saint-Michael suddenly appeared beside her. “Scroll forward again. Did you
see a blinking data line a second ago?”

           
“Yes, I
think so.” She scrolled forward, wondering what she should be looking for.

           
“Faster,
Ann.” The general finally nudged her aside and pounded the arrow key, finally
stopping at a data block that blinked on and off about once every two seconds.
He touched his earset controls.

           
“Full SBR
master display.”

 
         
Walker
turned toward his commanding officer. “
Sir, that
will
spoil the data transmissions for the area.
Nimitz
and JCS are only formatted for a three-hundred-mile dis—”

           
“I want
full SBR display, Jim. Right
now.
Those Soviet fighters that launched a few minutes ago from the
Brezhnev
—they went inland. And fast.”

           
He made his
way back to his command chair and strapped himself in just as the large master
SBR display shimmered and transformed itself back to its large-scale diagram of
the entire target region. Several blocks on the display were blinking—areas in
northern and northeastern
Iran
,
southern
Iran
and
Afghanistan
.
The dot representing the
Brezhnev
was
also blinking furiously.

           
“Get on
’em, dammit,” Saint-Michael ordered.

           
The
response was immediate. “Fast-moving fighter aircraft, origin
Brezhnev
, four hundred seventy knots,
one thousand feet above the ground.
Sixty miles south of
Shiraz
.”

           
“Four
high-speed, low-altitude aircraft heading south, origin estimated as Lyaki on
the
Caspian Sea
, one hundred forty miles north of
Tehran
.”

           
“Brezhnev
launching.... Two high-speed
aircraft heading north- northwest along the Iranian coast—”

           
“The
California
is
on channel six, General,”
Walker
cut in. Saint- Michael punched a button on his communications panel.

           
“
California
,
this is Armstrong Alpha. We’ve
detected several highspeed Soviet aircraft overflying
Iran
.
Several from Lyaki heading for
Tehran
and
Tabriz
, several
from the
Brezhnev
heading north
toward
Shiraz
and
Esfahan
.
It sure looks like an invasion force.”

           
Commander
Meserve aboard the
California
turned pale in the unearthly blue glow of the
California
's
combat information center,
then
whirled toward the intercom.

           
“Attention
all hands. Condition yellow. Repeat, condition yellow. Captain to CIC.” He
turned again to the headset that linked him with the orbiting space station.
“We’re blind down here, Armstrong. We’ve lost the real-time display. Can you assist?”

           
“You need
to reconfigure your display for one-thousand-mile scan range,” Saint-Michael
told him. “We’re only programmed to transmit either the full-scan picture or
the three-hundred-mile scan of the strait.”

 
         
Captain Matthew Page was sweating in
his life jacket as he trotted back into CIC. “Report, Commander.”

           
“Armstrong
reports several aircraft from the
Soviet Union
and from
the carrier
Brezhnev
entering Iranian
airspace.
Says it looks like an invasion force.”

           
“A
what?”
Meserve
held out the headset to Page. “Armstrong, this is Captain Page. General, what
the
hell
is going on?”

           
Saint-Michael
keyed his earset. “It’s confirmed, Captain.
Six highspeed
aircraft heading toward
Tabriz
, six toward
Tehran
, six toward
Esfahan
and six for Bandar-Abbas.
We’re also showing eight large,
slow-moving aircraft at low altitude heading for
Tehran
.
SBR hasn’t identified them yet but I think they’re probably troop transports or
heavy bombers. Take your pick—it spells trouble.”

           
The eight
men in CIC looked to Page for orders. After a few moments he pulled the
headset’s microphone to his lips. “How much longer do you have on this orbit,
General?”

           
“One hour
of reliable real-time data. After that another half hour of less precise
position-only data until we drop below the horizon. It’ll take another hour
after that to resume coverage—”

           
“Can’t you
slow yourself down, sort of hover over the area? Buy more time?”

           
Saint-Michael
rolled his eyes in exasperation and glanced at Ann. “Haven’t you ever explained
this to your father?” He returned to the laser communications link. “Captain,
just take my word for it. We can’t
hover
anywhere.”

           
“Stand by,
Armstrong.” Commander Meserve had pushed the red telephone into Page’s hands.
“Page here.”

           
“Matt, this
is Admiral Clancy. The group is on yellow alert. Repeat, yellow alert.”

           
“Aye, sir.
We went to yellow as soon as we got the word from the space station.”

           
“Very well.
Stand by to maneuver. We’ll be launching Hawkeye radar planes, four escorts and
two patrol birds. Are you still in contact with the space station?”

           
“Affirmative.
We’ve lost the real-time display but we have voice contact. We’ll be
reestablishing data link with Armstrong momentarily”

           
“It looks
like you’re it, then, Matt. We’ve lost the real-time display and we have no
voice contact. Maintain contact with Armstrong Station by the best possible
means and report any significant developments to us pronto. Advise them that
we’ll be launching aircraft and request maximum SBR coverage. Over.”

           
“Aye, aye,
sir. Out.” Page replaced the red phone and returned to the headset. “General,
aircraft will be launching from the
Nimitz
shortly. Can you keep those planes under surveillance until we get our
equipment reconfigured? We’re still blind down here.”

           
“Affirmative,
we’ll give you voice narrative until you get your tactical screen
reprogrammed.” Saint-Michael turned to
Jefferson
and
spoke through the wireless intercom: “Jake, you’re on channel six. Give the
California
verbal advisories on any aircraft or vessels near the carrier group or near the
aircraft it’ll be launching. Get Kelly to help the Squids on the
California
to
get their display reformatted.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jefferson
positioned himself in front of the master SBR screen and readjusted his headset
as he studied the screen.
“
California
,
this is your controller on board
Armstrong Station. Fifty-seven more minutes until we’re out of optimal SBR
range. How copy?”

           
Page nodded
to his senior radioman in charge of the
California
's
combat-information electronics
system.
“Loud and clear, Armstrong.”
As
Jefferson
issued his report the crew of
Silver
Tower
watched the Soviet attack rapidly intensify.

           
“More
aircraft launching from
Brezhnev,”
a
tech reported.
“Several aircraft over
Tabriz
and
Tehran
.
ETA for large Soviet jet aircraft from Baku Military Airfield is five minutes.”
Ann and Kevin Baker could only stand by as the SBR technician reported wave
after wave of aircraft swarming over
Iran
.
Through it all, Sergeant Jefferson continued his calm, steady litany in a low,
unwavering voice.

           
“Looks like an execution,” from Colonel Walker.
“We’ve
picked up the first emergency reports from
Iran
.
The word is the Soviets are attacking with
chemical
weapons ”

 
          
THE KREMLIN,
USSR

 
          
The battle staff members, chaired by
Minister of Defense Czilikov himself, had met every hour on the hour since the
first Silkworm missile was launched by exiled Iranian Revolutionary Guardsmen
and Soviet agents. First Deputy Minister of Defense Marshal Khromeyev conducted
the latest hourly operations briefing.

           
“The first
sorties from the
Brezhnev
have
already returned,” he began. “All aircraft report complete success. No
opposition all the way to their targets and only minimal on their return route.
Latest casualties and losses are one Sukhoi-27 fighter bomber from the
Brezhnev
shot down by Iranian
antiaircraft artillery while exiting hostile territory; one Tupolev-26 bomber
from the Seventy-Fifth Naval Aviation Bombardment Squad at Lyaki lost over
Tabriz in Northern Iran, all four crewmembers lost....”

           
“That’s
all?”
Czilikov said. “Out of nearly a
hundred aircraft over
Iran
in eight hours only two were lost?”

           
“Yes, sir,
I would like to mention the actions of the men of the Second Rescue Operations
Force aboard the
Brezhnev.
When the
Sukhoi was reported downed the men of the Second ROF volunteered to attempt a
rescue of the downed airman. Two Mil-14 helicopters from Second ROF were
dispatched along with a single Yakovlev-38 vertical takeoff-and-landing
aircraft for support cover. After destroying an Iranian gunboat near the crash
site, the Second ROF rescued the Sukhoi fighter pilot and all three aircraft
safely returned to the
Brezhnev.
The
Sukhoi pilot immediately volunteered for another sortie. I request that the men
of Second ROF be awarded the Order of Lenin for heroism.”

           
“So
ordered,” Czilikov said. “In less than half a day the forces under Marshal
Chercherovin have crushed all opposition from Iranian land, air and sea forces.
The skies over
Iran
,
Iraq
and the
Persian
Gulf
belong to
us.”
He
turned to Chercherovin.
“And what about the Americans in the
area?
What has their reaction been?”

           
“Negligible.
The four American vessels in the
Persian Gulf
have taken
our warnings and stayed away from the
Brezhnev
—as
a matter of fact, they’ve kept their distance even when the
Brezhnev
and her escorts moved to launch
or recover aircraft. In response, all aircraft involved in Feather have stayed
a minimum of one hundred sixty kilometers from all American ships, as you
ordered. The Americans are not stupid—they know they’re significantly
outnumbered in the gulf. They won’t risk destruction for
Iran
.”

           
“And the
American carrier fleet in the
Arabian Sea
?”

           
“Absolutely no response, sir, except to launch a few medium-range
reconnaissance aircraft near
Iran
’s
southern shore to monitor our invasion.
Admiral Ynoliev of the
Brezhnev
had allotted ten Sukhoi
fighters to counter any actions made by the
Nimitz,
but none was necessary. The
Brezhnev
remains at the very edge of the
Nimitz'
s
effective combat radius. The American carrier will have to move several hundred
kilometers closer to the
Gulf
of
Oman
to be able to strike at the
Brezhnev,
but if it does it will expose itself to counterattack by the
Brezhnev's
escorts. The exact distance
between the
Brezhnev
and the
Nimitz
is, I feel, significant, Comrade
Minister. The Americans are telling us they’re aware
and
concerned about our operation but for now will not interfere.
The reality of the situation is obvious to anyone—neither the
Nimitz
nor the
Persian Gulf
flotilla is in a strong enough position to strike.”