Executive orders - Tom Clancy [619]
THE ARMY OF God command section had proved devilishly hard to pin down, but now Hamm had two helo-scout troops detailed to that single mission, and his electronic-intelligence section had just set up again, co-located with 2nd Squadron's headquarters troop. They'd taken to calling their target the enchilada. Locate it, and disorganize the entire enemy force. Saudi intelligence officers attached to the ELINT tracks were listening to signals. The UIR forces had encrypted radios for the senior commanders, but those were good only for talking to other people with the same equipment, and with the gradual degradation of the enemy radio network, sooner or later the enchilada would have to start talking in the clear. One Corps and two divisional command posts had been hit, two of those almost totally destroyed and the other badly disrupted. Moreover, they knew roughly where III Corps was, and Army would have to start talking to that formation, since it was the only one so far not engaged except by a few air strikes. They didn't have to read the messages, nice though that would have been. They knew the frequency ranges for the high-command circuit, and a few minutes of traffic would enable them to localize it enough for M- and N-helicopter-scout troops to dart in and start ruining their whole morning.
It sounded like static, but digitally encrypted radios usually did. The ELINT officer, a first lieutenant, loved eavesdropping, but missed his jamming gear, which had been overlooked in the POMCUS equipment sets, probably, he thought, because that was supposed to be an Air Force mission. There was an art to this. His troopers, all military-intelligence specialists, had to tell the difference between real atmospheric static and manmade static as they swept the frequencies.
Bingo! One said. Bearing three-zero-five, hissin' like a snake. It was too loud to be atmospheric noise, random though it might have sounded.
How good? the officer asked.
Ninety percent, elltee. A second vehicle, slaved electronically to the first, was a klick away, providing a baseline for triangulation There. The location came up on the computer screen. The lieutenant lifted a radio for the 4th Squadron command post.
ANGEL-SIX, this is PEEPER, we may have a posit for the enchilada
M-Troop's four Apaches and six Kiowas were but twenty klicks away from the position, conducting a visual search. A minute later, they turned south.
WHAT IS HAPPENING! Mahmoud Haji demanded. He hated using this phone-radio lash-up, and just getting in contact with his own army commander had proved difficult enough.
We have encountered opposition south of King Khalid Military City. We are dealing with it.
Ask him the nature of the opposition, Intelligence advised his leader.
Perhaps your guest could tell me that, the general on the other side of the conversation suggested. We're still working to find out.
The Americans cannot have more than two brigades in theater! the man insisted. One more brigade-equivalent in Kuwait, but that is all!
Is that so? Well, I have lost more than a division in strength in the last three hours, and I still don't know what I'm facing here. Two Corps has been badly mauled. One Corps has run into something and is continuing the attack now. Three Corps is so far untouched. I can continue the attack to Riyadh, but I need more information on what I'm facing. The commanding general, a man of sixty years, was not a fool, and he still felt that he could win. He still had about four divisions' worth of combat power. It was just a matter of directing it properly.