Honorable Enemies (1994) (37 page)

Landesman would not admit it to anyone, but he was concerned about the foul weather and the experience level of some of the new pilots. Sixteen of the twenty-three aircraft scheduled for the next launch cycle carried live ordnance, and four of the planes with bombs and rockets were being flown by "nuggets"--qualified but inexperienced aviators.

While the pilots started their engines and the flight crews went through their checklists, the battle group commander raised his binoculars and studied the hazy horizon. He moved his head slowly, scanning the freighters and tankers before he stopped and watched two ASW helicopters in the distance.

Both of the SH-60 Seahawks appeared to be using their dipping sonars in an effort to detect foreign submarines. While one of the slate-gray helos was actually listening for intruders, the other one was trailing a wire and communicating with the attack sub La Jolla.

Isaac Landesman continued his vigilant sweep of the shipping lanes, focusing on the Japanese Maritime Defense Force flagship Hayasa and her escorts as they sailed toward the southern end of the strait.

Flanked by two Asagiri-class destroyers, the Aegis destroyer was 1,500 yards behind the minesweepers Hikoshima and Yurishima. Estimating the distance of the ships to be approximately four nautical miles, the Admiral noticed that the replenishment oiler was not with the small flotilla.

When the first aircraft began to taxi forward to the number-two catapult, Landesman lowered his binoculars and concentrated on the flight-deck personnel. He watched the yellow-shirted catapult officer walk to the deck-edge operator and kneel to talk to him.

A moment later, Landesman saw a flash in his peripheral vision. He turned his head and froze in stunned silence. Trailing a white plume of smoke from its launch canister on the Hayasa, the antiship missile was headed straight for Kitty Hawk. Landesman started to shout an order at the instant he heard, "Man your battle stations! Man your battle stations! This is not a drill!"

Landesman watched helplessly while the Harpoon missile's radar altimeter and computer guided the surface-to-surface missile at the desired sea-skimming height. The maneuver was designed to thwart the Vulcan Phalanx 20-millimeter Close-In Weapons System mounted aboard many ships.

The powerful CIWS defensive system incorporates two radars that provide information to an on-board computer to constantly correlate the target track and the CIWS projectile stream. Angular error is automatically calculated to correct the next burst as the system rapidly eliminates the difference between the tracks of the incoming and outgoing weapons.

CIWS is a last-ditch defense that spews a heavy volume of fir
e f
rom a six-barrel Gatling gun. If an antiship missile is barely above the water, it makes radar acquisition more difficult for the Vulcan Phalanx system.

Seconds after the launch, the missile's frequency-agile homing radar locked on to the carrier and commanded a sudden pitch-up to place the weapon in an excellent position to strike the carrier from above. The maneuver also defeated the rapid-firing CIWS gun.

The air-warfare officer aboard the Aegis guided-missile cruiser Chancellorsville was paralyzed when the alarms sounded and he recognized that a missile had been fired at Kitty Hawk. He was in radio contact with the tactical-action officer aboard the Hayasa and was about to key his microphone when the console speaker blasted out a frantic call.

"Jiko! Jiko!" the excited voice screamed, then repeated himself in English: "Accident! Accident!"

A statement from an overzealous junior officer had been misinterpreted, resulting in the launching of the powerful anti-ship missile.

Although Chancellorsville's air-warfare officer missed a few of the Japanese words, the agonizing confession continued in a thin and high-pitched voice. "Accidental launching! Accidental launching! Machigai! Mistake--our mistake."

The AWO suddenly recalled when crew members of the aircraft carrier USS Saratoga accidentally fired two Sea Sparrow missiles that hit the Turkish destroyer Muavenet during a NATO exercise in the Aegean Sea. The incident killed five men, including the Captain of the warship.

The stunned air-warfare officer broadcast an order to the other American ships.

"Weapons hold! Weapons hold!" the officer shouted while he tried to sort through the situation. "I repeat--weapons hold! Stand by."

The Japanese antiship weapon rocketed skyward before the
Texas Instruments active radar system changed the setting o
f t
he cruciform rear fins. The missile made a high-g pitch-over and targeted its large prey.

Christ Almighty, Landesman thought while the missile arched down toward the congested flight deck, what the hell are they doing? They have to be crazy!

The Admiral saw a blur of desperate men race for the sanctuary of the ship's island structure a second before the Harpoon hit an F/A-18 Hornet loaded with fuel and ordnance. The blinding flash and thunderous explosion shattered the windows on the flag bridge and blew twenty-eight sailors over the side of the stricken flattop.

Shocked by the jolting blast and violent concussion, Landes-man stumbled backwards and tripped over an aide who tried to break the Admiral's fall. Collapsing heavily to the steel deck, Landesman felt his left wrist snap as he heard and felt a series of powerful explosions that shook the carrier from bow to stern.

With the help of his stunned aide, the battle-group commander forced himself up and lurched toward his chair overlooking the flight deck. He was appalled at the fire-swept carnage taking place in front of his eyes. Dazed men, some of whom were trying to extinguish their burning clothes, were crawling on their hands and knees in an effort to escape the fireball.

The F/A-18 Hornet's internal fuel tanks and wing-mounted drop tanks had erupted, spreading flames to other aircraft next to the destroyed fighter/attack airplane. The brisk wind sweeping over the deck caused the superheated inferno to spread rapidly, engulfing scores of airplanes in a huge, roiling conflagration.

The searing mass of flames detonated 1,000-pound bombs, 500-pound bombs, rockets, and other ordnance, ripping apart more aircraft and spilling thousands of gallons of blazing jet fuel. Another round of deafening explosions blew holes in the armored flight deck and sent debris and shrapnel ricocheting off adjacent airplanes.

A missile ignited under the wing of a Tomcat and sho
t s
traight into the fuselage of an A-6 Intruder that was taxiing forward out of the fire. The aircraft blew apart a moment after a 1,000-pound bomb was heaved over the side by a host of sailors. The singed bomb exploded when it hit the sea, throwing a wall of water over the firefighters who were standing on the lowered flight-deck elevator.

The entire aft section of the carrier deck was swallowed by the raging fire and billowing black smoke when Landesman saw the first ejection seat blast upward and arc over the fantail. Seconds later, more ejection seats fired through the boiling flames as the trapped pilots and naval flight officers fought for their lives.

Landesman could feel the ship slowing and turning as a frantic pilot jockeyed his burning F-14 Tomcat toward a clear area at the edge of the deck. Like the other aviators, he was afraid that he and his RIO might come down in the inferno if they ejected in the middle of the deck.

The fighter accelerated in afterburner until the nosewheel swept over the side of the ship. At that point, the radar intercept officer initiated their ejection sequence, which fired his seat first. The pilot shot free of the scorched cockpit just as the nose of the Tomcat hit the water.

Landesman was reaching for his direct line to the captain's bridge when the flight-deck emergency-washdown system activated. Water spewed over the length of the crowded deck, but the downpour had little effect as more devastating explosions set a row of fuel-laden jets ablaze. The Admiral had never encountered anything that compared to the magnitude of destruction he was witnessing. Likewise, he had never seen such bravery and self-sacrifice in his long naval career.

"Captain . . ." Carl Witowski breathlessly answered Landes-man's call.

" Jinks, what have we got from damage control?"

An explosion interrupted Witowski's reply. "We've got a lot of men trapped belowdecks, and flaming fuel is running into the spaces and hangar bay."

"Keep me advised," Landesman ordered and involuntarily flinched when another giant explosion rocked the ship.

"Yes, sir," the devastated skipper mechanically shot back. "It doesn't look good, but Cowpens is coming alongside to assist."

" Jinks," Landesman advised while he surveyed the burning flight deck, "I'm going to get a message off to CINCPAC." He hung up the receiver.

Out of the corner of his eye the Admiral saw an officer and two enlisted men toss a loose bomb over the side of the carrier. He turned to watch the three men as they approached another bomb that was rapidly being surrounded by flames. The officer was spraying the 500-pounder with a fire extinguisher when the bomb exploded. Landesman stared in horror and disbelief when the three men simply disappeared.

Chapter
33.

Lamar Joiner was shaving in his cramped stateroom when he heard and felt the first detectable rumble. Curious, he stopped for a moment and waited for another hint of the unusual sound. The only noise was the deep hum of the ventilation ducts.

He dismissed the faint, rolling sound as an anomaly and placed the razor next to his cheek. Joiner again paused when he sensed another low, resonant sound. It's real, but I can't identify the sound or the source.

He knew they were rapidly approaching the rendezvous coordinates to take up station with the carrier task force, but the only sounds he expected to hear were the high-frequency pitch of ship's screws.

The communications speaker suddenly came to life. "Cap'n, officer of the deck, sir," the smooth, confident voice said evenly.

Joiner quickly wiped the shaving cream from his face and toggled the speaker switch.

"Captain," Joiner replied with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. After many years of submarine duty, his intuitive feelings were generally correct.

"Sir, sonar is picking up some strange returns--like depth charges going off."

Joiner tossed the hand towel on the tiny sink. "I'll be in sonar for a couple of minutes if you need me."

"Aye aye, Cap'n."

After hurriedly donning his dark overalls, Joiner walked down the narrow passageway leading to the sonar room. He entered the dim, quiet space and looked at the data on the display screen.

"Mornin', Captain," the senior operator said without taking his eyes off the sonar console.

"Good morning," Joiner replied in a hushed voice and looked over the Petty Officer's shoulder.

The latest contact, other than ships in the crowded strait, was a vertical line on the console. Whatever the source, the loud sounds were coming from far away and the bearing was remaining constant.

"What have you got?" Joiner asked the senior operator as he studied the returns on his sonar screen.

"Sir, like I told the OD, the sounds have the characteristic trait of depth charges." The man slowly shook his head in frustration. "Something exploded in the water--at least twice--dead on the bow."

The Captain studied the display for a brief moment. He agreed with the Petty Officer, but he had grave reservations about the unusual sounds.

Joiner looked at his watch. Bremerton wasn't scheduled to go to periscope depth to receive the latest satellite radio transmissions, but Joiner needed information before he continued toward the strange sounds.

"I'll be in conn."

"Yessir." The sonar operator glanced at Joiner. "We'll stay on it, sir, till we have it figured out."

"Very well," Joiner responded and stepped out of the confined space. He thought about the perplexing sounds while he made his way to the control room. If someone is droppin
g d
epth charges, I sure as hell don't want to blunder into the middle of the kill zone.

Joiner walked into the control room and approached the officer of the deck at the navigation chart behind the periscope stand.

"What do you think, Frenchie?"

The Lieutenant absently tapped the chart with the end of his pencil. "Cap'n, I know it's early to go to PD, but we're getting mighty close to the Hawk, and I think we need some fresh info."

Joiner was about to answer when he, the Lieutenant, and the chief of the watch heard and felt another tremor reverberate through the attack submarine.

"Frenchie," Joiner said, "let's get between the shipping channels and take her up to periscope depth."

"Aye aye, sir."

ANDREWS AIR FORCE BASE, MARYLAND

The President had just boarded Air Force One when he received the word about the errant Japanese missile and the ensuing conflagration on Kitty Hawk.

He and Scott Eaglehoff had sequestered themselves in the communications compartment while the big Boeing took off and turned on course to Anchorage.

Refusing his usual evening cocktail, the President opted for a Pepsi while they waited for a conference call with the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the civilian Secretaries of the armed forces, the National Security Advisor, and prominent members of the security council. He also wanted to confer with his Vice President, who had been on an extended visit to European countries.