Executive orders - Tom Clancy [549]
What to do now? he wondered. Play tough? Play dumb? Play apathetic? People so often overlooked the psychological aspect of military operations. Raid-One was now 150 miles out, rapidly approaching the range of his SM-2MR SAMs.
What d'ya think, Weps? he asked his weapons officer.
I think they're just trying to piss us off.
Agreed. The captain flipped a mental coin. Well, they're harassing the Orion. Let 'em know we see 'em, he ordered.
Two seconds later, the SPY search RADAR jacked up its power to four million watts, sent all of it down one degree of bearing at the inbound fighters, and increased the dwell on the targets, which meant they were being hit almost continuously. It was enough to peg the threat-detection gear they had to have aboard. Inside of twenty miles, it could even start damaging such equipment, depending on how delicate it was. That was called a zorch, and the captain still had another two million watts of power up his sleeve. The joke was that if you really pissed off an Aegis, you might start producing two-headed kids.
Kidd just went to battle stations, sir, the officer of the deck reported.
Good training time, isn't it? Range to Raid-One was just over one hundred miles now. Weps, light 'em up.
With that command, the ship's four SPG-51 target-illumination RADARs turned, sending pencil beams of X-band energy at the inbound fighters. These RADARs told the missiles how to find their targets. The Indian threat gear would pick that up, too. The fighters didn't change course or speed.
Okay, that means we're not playing rough today. If they were of a mind to do something, they'd be maneuvering now, the captain told his crew. You know, like turning the corner when you see a cop. Or they had ice water in their veins, which didn't seem likely.
Going to eyeball the formation? Weps asked.
That's what I'd do. Take some pictures, see what's here, Kemper thought.
A lot of things happening at once, sir.
Yep, the captain agreed, watching the display. He lifted the growler phone.
Bridge, the OOD answered.
Tell your lookouts I want to know what they are. Photos, if possible. How's visibility topside?
Surface haze, not bad aloft, sir. I've got men on the Big Eyes now.
Very well.
They'll go past us to the north, turn left, and come down our port side, the captain predicted.
Sir, Gonzo-Four reports a very close pass a few seconds ago, air control said.
Tell him to stay cool.
Aye, Cap'n. The situation developed quickly after that. The fighters circled COMEDY twice, never closer than five nautical miles. The Indian Harriers spent another fifteen minutes around the patrolling Orion, then had to return back to their carrier to refuel, and another day at sea continued with no shots fired and no overtly hostile acts, unless you counted the fighter play, and that was pretty routine. When all was settled down, the captain of USS Anzio turned to his communications officer.
I need to talk to CINCLANT. Oh, Weps? Kemper added.
Yes, sir?
I want every combat system on this ship fully checked out.
Sir, we just ran a full check twelve hours-
Right now, Weps, he emphasized quietly.
AND THAT'S GOOD news? Cathy asked.
Doctor, that's real simple, Alexandre said in reply. You watched some people die this morning. You will watch more die tomorrow, and that stinks. But thousands is better than millions, isn't it? I think this epidemic is going to burn out. He didn't add that it was somewhat easier for him. Cathy was an eye cutter. She wasn't used to dealing with death. He was infectious diseases, and he was used to it. Easier? Was that the word? We'll know in a couple of days from statistical analysis of the cases.
The President nodded silently. Van Damm spoke for him: What's the count going to be?
Less than ten thousand, according to the computer