Patrick McLanahan Collection #1 (69 page)

BOOK: Patrick McLanahan Collection #1
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Battle Mountain Air Reserve Base, Nevada

June 2004

S
A-17 target-detection radar, twelve o'clock, fifty miles, no problem, well below detection threshold…oh, wow, a newcomer, SA-12 surveillance radar, one o'clock, eighty-five miles,” the reconnaissance technician reported. The guy looked all of nineteen years old and sounded even younger. He could've been commenting on the appearance of aliens in a video game—he was neither excited nor surprised, just gleefully energized. “SA-12 datalink signals being transmitted…still not locked on, but he knows we're out here. He—Wait, radar's down. He shut it off in a big hurry.”

“Well, well—the Russkies sneaked an SA-12 into the theater,” Major General Patrick McLanahan remarked. He was well accustomed to the youthful expressions and seemingly laid-back style of his soldiers, and he tried not to impart his own “red alert” mentality on them. The forty-seven-year-old two-star Air Force general typed in commands on his computer terminal, calling up any additional information on this new contact. “Possibly a full SA-12 battery—six transporter-erector-launchers plus five loader-launchers tied into a surveillance radar vehicle, sector-scanning radar vehicle, and command post. He's pretty far outside Ashkhabad—it's obviously not intended to protect Russian forces in the capital. It's a clear violation.”

“They're moving the heavy guns a little farther east every day,” Air
Force Colonel Daren Mace remarked. The fifty-one-year-old Air Force veteran watched as the large, full-color tactical display updated itself with the location and identification of the new Russian surface-to-air missile unit. The SA-12, similar in performance to the American Patriot antiaircraft system, was one of the Russian Federation's most advanced surface-to-air missile systems, capable of destroying large aircraft out as far as sixty miles. “You'd think they didn't want us out there watching them or something.” He made a few inputs on his own keyboard. “The task force has been updated with the new intel, and we've sent warnings to all the United Nations participants,” he went on. “The Russians are threatening past the sixtieth meridian now with the SA-12, sir. If they keep this up, they'll have surface-to-air missile coverage over Mary itself in just a few days.”

Patrick nodded. The Republic of Turkmenistan had been cut in half since the Taliban invasion last year, with the Turkmen government and military virtually exiled to the city of Mary in the east and the Army of the Russian Federation in control of the capital city of Ashkhabad in the west. The United Nations Security Council had ordered all parties to stand fast until peacekeeping forces could be moved into the country to try to sort everything out, and to everyone's surprise the resolution passed without a veto from Russia. Now it appeared that the Russians were violating the order and moving steadily eastward, taking steps to control the skies first and then slowly taking more and more of the countryside. “I'll go to Eighth Air Force
again
and make sure they know that the Russians haven't stopped pushing east.”

“Think that'll do any good, sir?” Daren asked. “We've painted a pretty clear picture of the Russians moving east across Turkmenistan, in violation of the Security Council's resolution. The SA-12 is a lot more than a tactical defensive weapon—one battery can shut off two hundred thousand cubic miles of airspace.”

“Our job is to surveille, monitor, analyze, and report—not attack,” Patrick said with a hint of weariness in his voice as he keyed in commands to submit a report to Eighth Air Force's senior duty controller. Eighth Air Force, located in Shreveport, Louisiana, was the Air Force major command in charge of all of America's heavy bomber forces. “I'm taking it upon myself to have the assets in place in case we're asked to respond. I have a feeling I'm lucky to continue to be doing
that.
” Daren Mace said nothing—he knew that the general was
definitely
correct.

Patrick, Daren, and their technical crew were conducting an aerial surveillance and reconnaissance mission over central Turkmenistan, a former Soviet Central Asian republic—but they were safe and secure in the BATMAN, or Battle Management Center, at Battle Mountain Air Reserve Base in north-central Nevada. The aircraft flying over Turkmenistan was a QB-1C Vampire III, a highly modified unmanned B-1 bomber loaded with electronic surveillance and monitoring equipment. Eavesdropping equipment allowed Patrick to intercept signals from a wide variety of sources, and the bomber's laser radar, or LADAR, allowed them to take incredibly detailed images of ground and air targets from long range.

Along with defensive weapons—six AIM-120 Advanced Medium Range Air-to-Air Missiles (AMRAAMs) on external fuselage hardpoints—the Vampire bomber carried two StealthHawk UCAVs (Unmanned Combat Air Vehicles) on a special rotary launcher in its center bomb bay. Resembling wide, fat, winged surfboards, the StealthHawk drones carried small but powerful precision-guided missiles and cluster munitions to attack hostile ground targets. The StealthHawks could be retrieved, refueled, and rearmed inside the Vampire, allowing each drone to attack dozens of targets while the mother ship stayed well out of range of antiaircraft threats.

Patrick punched the radio channel command, entered a password, waited a few moments until the secure channels synchronized, then spoke, “Fortress, this is Avenger, secure.”

“Avenger, Fortress is secure,” the Eighth Air Force senior controller on duty responded.

“How are you tonight, Taylor?”

“Just fine, General,” Air Force Lieutenant Colonel Taylor Viner replied. Taylor Rose Viner was a young and talented aerospace engineer and command pilot that Patrick had tried for years to recruit to Dreamland, the top-secret weapon center in Nevada, but the mother of twin boys had opted for a halfway normal family life as one of the shift commanders in charge of Eighth Air Force's command center. “Go ahead, sir.”

“We've detected a new SAM site in central Turkmenistan, an SA-12 less than forty miles outside the city of Mary,” Patrick said. “It's not a threat to task-force aircraft right now, but that's only because we're stealthier than the average bear. If we put up any standard reconnaissance aircraft, they'd be dead meat.”

“The Security Council resolution prohibits Russian forces from approaching closer than fifty kilometers from Mary—that's thirty miles,” Viner said. “He's legal.”

“But an SA-12 is a threat to large aircraft out to forty miles, and that means over the city of Mary,” Patrick said.

“I understand, sir,” Viner said. “I'm not arguing, only playing devil's advocate.” She was also gently reminding Patrick of the first likely question the Eighth Air Force commanders would ask if she woke them up with this information. “What do you want to do, sir?”

“I'm requesting permission to launch a StealthHawk UCAV over the city in an effort to ascertain the Russians' intent.”

“UCAV? You've got UCAVs on board the task-force aircraft, sir?” Taylor asked with surprise. She paused for a moment as she typed on her own computer terminal, then added, “Sir, there's nothing on the frag order about UCAVs. Are they armed, sir?” Patrick hesitated—and that's all Viner needed to know. “General, my recommendation to you would be to launch another aircraft immediately that is armed exactly per the frag order to replace the one you have on station.”

“The frag order doesn't prohibit us from carrying UCAVs, and it does permit us to carry defensive weapons.”

“Yes, sir,” Viner replied, in a tone of voice that clearly said, The bosses aren't going to like that argument one bit. “Shall I upchannel your observations and request, sir, or would you like to continue monitoring the situation?”

Taylor was making one last attempt to dissuade Patrick from taking any action, and Patrick decided she was right. “We'll continue monitoring the situation, Colonel,” Patrick said. “You can put in your report that we have StealthHawk UCAVs on board the Bobcat patrol aircraft and that we are ready to respond immediately if necessary. Please mark the SA-12 battery-contact report ‘urgent' and let them know we're standing by.”

“Yes, sir,” Viner responded. “Anything else to report, sir?”

“No, Taylor. Ops normal otherwise. We're standing by to respond.”

“Roger that, sir. Fortress clear.”

“Avenger standing by.” Patrick sat back in his seat and studied the displays in front of him. “Well, Daren,” he said to Mace beside him, “I sure hope I didn't piss off the brass—any more than I already have.”

“If you'll pardon an unsolicited observation, sir, I think they're probably going to be perpetually pissed at you, whether or not you
launched the Vampires with UCAVs,” Daren observed. Patrick nodded in agreement. He was right: This whole mission was a no-win situation from day one, and Patrick was the center of the shit storm.

The United Nations Security Council resolution ordered aerial observation of Turkmenistan only. President Thomas Thorn, in a surprise move, pledged support, and the council accepted. The secretary of defense ordered U.S. Central Command, the major command in charge of military operations in Central Asia, to set up round-the-clock reconnaissance; Central Command in turn tapped the U.S. Air Force to perform the reconnaissance task.

At first the Air Force tasked Twelfth Air Force, the Air Combat Command headquarters that owned long-range reconnaissance aircraft, to plan a reconnaissance schedule. Twelfth Air Force built a plan to deploy its conventional reconnaissance aircraft—the unmanned RQ-4A Global Hawk, the U-2 “Dragon Lady” spy plane, the RC-135 RIVET JOINT electronic reconnaissance plane, and the E-8 Joint STARS (Surveillance and Targeting Radar System) ground-reconnaissance aircraft. With a combination of these aircraft over Turkmenistan, augmented with satellite reconnaissance, they'd have a complete, 24/7 real-time picture of the situation there.

But the 111th Bomb Wing's aircraft, already deployed to Diego Garcia during the initial conflict in Turkmenistan, offered so much more than just simple surveillance. An unmanned QAL-52 Dragon airborne-laser aircraft could protect as much as 20
million
cubic miles of airspace from ballistic missiles, cruise missiles, aircraft, and even some ground targets; the unmanned QB-1C and QB-52 “flying battleships” each provided as much offensive and defensive firepower as a flight of tactical fighters. At Patrick McLanahan's urging, Central Command vetoed Twelfth Air Force's plans and ordered Eighth Air Force, in charge of the Air Force's long-range bombers, to deploy McLanahan's Air Battle Force to patrol Turkmenistan. The high-tech bombers of the 111th Bomb Wing had acquitted themselves well in the opening conflict with the Russians, and this was seen as a reward for their efforts; besides, they were already in place and knew the tactical situation thoroughly.

This decision managed to upset both Eighth and Twelfth Air Force commanders, although they had no choice but to accept it. Eighth Air Force had its own fleet of strike aircraft, of course—160 long-range B-1B, B-52, and B-2 bombers and several hundred aerial-refueling tankers, along with a dazzling array of cruise missiles and precision-guided
munitions. But they were all back in the States or providing long-range patrol duties with U.S. Navy Surface Action Groups around the world.

Although administratively part of the Air Reserve Forces—most of the men and women in the Wing were part of the Nevada Air National Guard—the 111th Bomb Wing operationally belonged to Eighth Air Force. But when it came down to it, no one at Eighth Air Force knew how to deploy or fight with the high-tech gadgets at Battle Mountain Air Reserve Base. They had no choice but to place Major General Patrick McLanahan in charge of the operation, reporting directly to Eighth Air Force headquarters.

The decision to let Patrick's Air Battle Force patrol Turkmenistan created a much more effective presence there for far less cost than Twelfth Air Force's planned operation, but the decision did not sit well with many Air Force general officers. No doubt they were all waiting for Patrick and his fleet of robot planes to fail.

Daren Mace let Patrick stew in silence for several long moments. Daren was a bit older than Patrick, but his Air Force career had not been nearly as successful or dynamic—until he met up with the young two-star general. Now, as operations officer of the 111th Bomb Wing, Daren Mace commanded a growing fleet of the most high-tech warplanes on the planet, the majority of which were created by Patrick McLanahan in the supersecret desert research center at Elliott Air Force Base in Groom Lake, Nevada, commonly known as Dreamland. A few years ago, aerial-warfare expert Mace had made his living flipping slides and making coffee for generals and administrators in the Pentagon. Now those same generals and bean-counting bureaucrats were coming to him asking for answers to America's tough defense problems.

“Want to bring that Vampire home,” Daren asked, “and replace it with one without StealthHawks aboard?”

Patrick looked as if he didn't hear Mace. He was staring intently at the large, full-color tactical situation display, with the new SA-12 battery in the center. Finally he pointed at the screen on the wall before him. “You see anything wrong with how that SA-12 is deployed, Daren?” he asked.

Daren studied the display. Something had been nagging at him ever since the surface-to-air missile battery had been detected. The SA-12's precise position was plotted on the screen, along with a circle representing the maximum effective range of the two-stage solid-propellant
Russian 9M82 antiaircraft missile, a larger but almost direct copy of the American Patriot missile. “Well, I wouldn't have put it there myself,” Daren said a few moments later.

“Why?”

“It's too far south,” Daren replied. “If we were going to fly a strike mission against Russian forces coming from Ashkhabad, we could easily circumnavigate that SA-12.”

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