Read Online Jack Ryan 8 - Debt of Honor by Tom Clancy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tom Clancy
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brief.
USS Dwight D. Eisenhower was on a course of zero-nine-eight degrees, east by south, two hundred nautical miles southeast of Felidu Atoll. Fleet speed was eighteen knots, and would increase for the commencement of flight operations. The main tactical display in flag plot had been updated forty minutes earlier from the radar of an E-3C Hawkeye surveillance aircraft, and, indeed, the Indian Navy was burning a good deal of Bunker-Charlie, or whatever they used now to drive their ships through the water.
The display before him could easily have been that of a U.S. Navy Carrier Battle Group. The two Indian carriers, Viraat and Vikrant, were in the center of a circular formation, the pattern for which had been invented by an American named Nimitz almost eighty years earlier. Close-in escorts were
Delhi
and
Mysore
, home-built missile destroyers armed with a SAM system about which information was thin—always a worry to aviators. The second ring was composed of the Indian version of the old Russian Kashin-class destroyers, also SAM-equipped. Most interesting, however, were two other factors.
“Replenishment ships Rajaba Gan Palan and Shakti have rejoined the battle group after a brief stay in
Trivandrum
—”
“How long were they in port?”
Jackson
asked.
“Less than twenty-four hours,” Commander Ed Harrison, the group-operations officer, replied. “They cycled them pretty fast, sir.”
“So they just went in for a quick fill-up. How much gas do they carry?”
“Bunker fuel, about thirteen thousand tons each, another fifteen hundred each of JP. Sister ship Deepak has detached from the battle group and is heading northwest, probably for
Trivandrum
as well, after conducting un-rep operations yesterday.”
“So they're working extra hard to keep their bunkers topped off. Interesting. Go on,”
Jackson
ordered.
“Four submarines are believed to be accompanying the group. We have rough positions on one, and we've lost two roughly here.”
Harrison
's hand drew a rough circle on the display. “The location of number four is unknown, sir. We'll be working on that today.”
“Our subs out there?”
Jackson
asked the group commander.
“
Santa Fe
in close and Greeneville holding between us and them.
Cheyenne
is in closer to the battle group as gatekeeper,” Rear Admiral Mike Dubro replied, sipping his morning coffee.
“Plan for the day, sir,”
Harrison
went on, “is to launch four F/A-18 Echoes with tankers to head east to this point, designated P
OINT
B
AUXITE
, from which they will turn northwest, approach to within thirty miles of the Indian battle group, loiter for thirty minutes, then return to B
AUXITE
to tank again and recover after a flight time of four hours, forty-five minutes.” For the four aircraft to do this, eight were needed to provide midair refueling support. One each on the way out and the return leg as well. That accounted for most of Ike's tanker assets.
“So we want them to think we're still over that way.”
Jackson
nodded and smiled, without commenting on the wear-and-tear on the air crews that such a mission profile made necessary. “Still tricky, I see, Mike.”
“They haven't gotten a line on us yet. We're going to keep it that way, too,” Dubro added.
“How are the Bugs loaded?” Robby asked, using the service nickname for the F/A-18 Hornet, “Plastic Bug.”
“Four Harpoons each. White ones,” Dubro added. In the Navy, exercise missiles were color-coded blue. Warshots were generally painted white. The Harpoons were air-to-surface missiles.
Jackson
didn't have to ask about the Sidewinder and AMRAAM air-to-air missiles that were part of the Hornet's basic load. “What I want to know is, what the hell are they up to?” the battle-group commander observed
USS Dwight D. Eisenhower was on a course of zero-nine-eight degrees, east by south, two hundred nautical miles southeast of Felidu Atoll. Fleet speed was eighteen knots, and would increase for the commencement of flight operations. The main tactical display in flag plot had been updated forty minutes earlier from the radar of an E-3C Hawkeye surveillance aircraft, and, indeed, the Indian Navy was burning a good deal of Bunker-Charlie, or whatever they used now to drive their ships through the water.
The display before him could easily have been that of a U.S. Navy Carrier Battle Group. The two Indian carriers, Viraat and Vikrant, were in the center of a circular formation, the pattern for which had been invented by an American named Nimitz almost eighty years earlier. Close-in escorts were
Delhi
and
Mysore
, home-built missile destroyers armed with a SAM system about which information was thin—always a worry to aviators. The second ring was composed of the Indian version of the old Russian Kashin-class destroyers, also SAM-equipped. Most interesting, however, were two other factors.
“Replenishment ships Rajaba Gan Palan and Shakti have rejoined the battle group after a brief stay in
Trivandrum
—”
“How long were they in port?”
Jackson
asked.
“Less than twenty-four hours,” Commander Ed Harrison, the group-operations officer, replied. “They cycled them pretty fast, sir.”
“So they just went in for a quick fill-up. How much gas do they carry?”
“Bunker fuel, about thirteen thousand tons each, another fifteen hundred each of JP. Sister ship Deepak has detached from the battle group and is heading northwest, probably for
Trivandrum
as well, after conducting un-rep operations yesterday.”
“So they're working extra hard to keep their bunkers topped off. Interesting. Go on,”
Jackson
ordered.
“Four submarines are believed to be accompanying the group. We have rough positions on one, and we've lost two roughly here.”
Harrison
's hand drew a rough circle on the display. “The location of number four is unknown, sir. We'll be working on that today.”
“Our subs out there?”
Jackson
asked the group commander.
“
Santa Fe
in close and Greeneville holding between us and them.
Cheyenne
is in closer to the battle group as gatekeeper,” Rear Admiral Mike Dubro replied, sipping his morning coffee.
“Plan for the day, sir,”
Harrison
went on, “is to launch four F/A-18 Echoes with tankers to head east to this point, designated P
OINT
B
AUXITE
, from which they will turn northwest, approach to within thirty miles of the Indian battle group, loiter for thirty minutes, then return to B
AUXITE
to tank again and recover after a flight time of four hours, forty-five minutes.” For the four aircraft to do this, eight were needed to provide midair refueling support. One each on the way out and the return leg as well. That accounted for most of Ike's tanker assets.
“So we want them to think we're still over that way.”
Jackson
nodded and smiled, without commenting on the wear-and-tear on the air crews that such a mission profile made necessary. “Still tricky, I see, Mike.”
“They haven't gotten a line on us yet. We're going to keep it that way, too,” Dubro added.
“How are the Bugs loaded?” Robby asked, using the service nickname for the F/A-18 Hornet, “Plastic Bug.”
“Four Harpoons each. White ones,” Dubro added. In the Navy, exercise missiles were color-coded blue. Warshots were generally painted white. The Harpoons were air-to-surface missiles.
Jackson
didn't have to ask about the Sidewinder and AMRAAM air-to-air missiles that were part of the Hornet's basic load. “What I want to know is, what the hell are they up to?” the battle-group commander observed
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