Chapters (50)
- DEBT OF HONOR
- Acknowledgments
- Prologue
- 1—Alumni
- 2—Fraternity
- 3—Collegium
- 4—Activity
- 5—Complexity Theory
- 6—Looking In, Looking Out
- 7—Catalyst
- 8—Fast-Forwarding
- 9—Power Plays
- 10—Seduction
- 11—Sea Change
- 12—Formalities
- 13—Winds and Tides
- 14—Reflections
- 15—A Damned, Foolish Thing
- 16—Payloads
- 17—Strike One
- 18—Easter Egg
- 19—Strike Two
- 20—Strike Three
- 21—Navy Blue
- 22—The Global Dimension
- 23—Catching Up
- 24—Running in Place
- 25—All the King's Horses
- 26—Catch-up
- 27—Piling On
- 28—Transmissions
- 29—Written Records
- 30—Why Not?
- 31—The How and the What
- 32—Special Report
- 33—Reversal Points
- 34—All Aboard
- 35—Consequences
- 36—Consideration
- 37—Going Deep
- 38—The River Rubicon
- 39—Eyes First
- 40—Foxes and Hounds
- 41—CTF-77
- 42—Lightning Strikes
- 43—Dancing to the Tune
- 44—…from one who knows the score…
- 45—Line of Battle
- 46—Detachment
- 47—Brooms
The large, inviting contact that had suddenly appeared just over then heads was gone. The big phased-array acquisition radar had announced the target's presence visually and with a tone, and now the screen was blank, but not completely. Now there were four objects descending, just as there had been eight only a minute before. Bombs. The battery commander had felt, not heard the impact up-valley from his launch vehicles. The last time, he'd gone for the bombers, wasting two precious missiles; and the two he'd just fired would also go wild…but…
"Reengage now!" the battery commander shouted at his people.
"They're not guiding on us," the EWO said with more hope than conviction. The tracking radar was searchlighting now, then it steadied down, but not on them.
To make it even less likely, Zacharias turned the aircraft, which was necessary for the second part of the mission anyway. It would take him off track for the programmed path of the missiles and avoid the chance possibility of a skin-skin contact.
"Talk to me!" the pilot ordered.
"They're past us by now—" A thought confirmed by one, then another bright flash of light that lit up the clouds over their heads. Though the three crewmen cringed at the light, there wasn't a sound or even a buffet from the explosions, they must have been so far behind them.
Okay, that's that…I hope.
"He's still-lock-on-signal!" the EWO shouted. "But—"
"On us?"
"No, something else—I don't know—"
"The bombs. Damn it," Zacharias swore. "He's tracking the bombs!"
There were four of them, the smartest of smart bombs, falling rapidly now, but not so fast as a diving tactical aircraft. Each one knew where it was in space and time and knew where it was supposed to go. Data from the B-2s' onboard navigation systems had told them where they were—the map coordinates, the altitude, the speed and direction of the aircraft, and against that the computers in the bombs themselves had compared the location of their programmed targets. Now, tailing, they were connecting the invisible dots in three-dimensional space, and they were most unlikely to miss. But the bombs were not stealthy, because it hadn't occurred to anyone to make them so, and they were also large enough to track.
The Patriot battery still had missiles to shoot, and a site to defend, and though the bomber had disappeared, there were four objects on the screen, and the radar could see them. Automatically, the guidance systems tracked in on them as the battery commander swore at himself for not thinking of this sooner. His operator nodded at the command and turned the key that "enabled" the missile systems to operate autonomously, and the computer didn't know or care that the inbound targets were not aircraft. They were moving through the air, they were within its hemisphere of responsibility, and the human operators said, kill.