FL 450, Philippine Sea
“Spirit of Florida”
Major Weatherly wasn’t a young man anymore. He had flown the B-2 for almost ten years and his time as a combat pilot was coming to an end. “Billy, take her.”
“Co-Pilot’s aircraft”
Weatherly groaned softly as he stretched out the kinks in his back and shoulders. Sitting in an ejection seat for ten hours was not the most comfortable thing in the world. At least he could move around a bit, unlike the guys in the long-range tactical aircraft. The B-2 even had a coffee maker and a cot for catnaps.
“Coffee Billy?”
“No thank you sir, don’t want to get jittery hands.”
“Roger that, just one more cup for me and I’m done too.”
“Take a look at the threat board, starting to see action already.”
Weatherly scanned the instruments ahead of him. The Chinese had to know that US bombers would be attempting to penetrate Chinese air space. They had enough RF energy going out to light a small city. While the normal “search” radars were not much of a concern, the longer wavelength radars were more troubling. Their exact performance was unknown but it was likely that they could at least detect the presence of a stealth aircraft like the B-2. However, unlike the smaller F-22 or F-35, the B-2 was much more difficult to spot on radar, even radar that was optimized for finding stealth aircraft.
Ironically, it was easier to stealth a larger aircraft like the B-2 than a smaller aircraft like the F-22. It was simply not possible to build a fighter with the clean flowing lines of the B-2. While the B-21 was supposed to be an order of magnitude stealthier than the B-2, for the moment the B-2 was the ultimate in stealth.
That did not make her invisible, however. The official term was “low observable.” The practical effect of all the work done to reduce the plane’s radar signature was to decrease the distance at which a given radar could detect the plane. This point was sometimes referred to as the “detection threshold” or just “threshold.” For a known system like Russian SAM radar, they could predict with some certainty what that threshold was. For systems like the Chinese long wave radar, the estimates were less precise. Mission planning allowed them to fly a course calculated to reduce their likelihood of detection but did not guarantee anything.
The relatively long range of the Quickstrike ER meant that they could launch from standoff range. This meant that they didn’t have to get as close as they would have to drop a “normal” JDAM. At their current height and speed, the ER version could glide for almost fifty miles. The mission plan had the planes attacking from over fifty miles out to sea.
“Ex-Fil is going to be a bitch if they scramble.”
“Yeah Billy. I think we should assume a scramble.”
“Wish we had some cloud cover to fuck up their IRST.”
Weather was always a crap shoot. Clear weather meant good flying but it also meant it was easier to see the big black planes via infrared search and track or IRST. The B-2 was specifically designed to reduce her IR signature, especially from below. However, she wasn’t invisible and could be spotted by a skillful pilot. Similar to her WWII predecessors, the B-2 was designed to attack from very high altitude. This gave her the best chance of evading detection and escaping unscathed.
“I have her.”
“Yes, sir. Pilot’s aircraft.”
“Pilot’s aircraft.”
The threat display was lighting up like a Christmas tree. In addition to land-based radar, there were several airborne radars up and running. The presence of these AWACs birds had made mission planning difficult. The goal was to find a window between the planes but their orbits were difficult to predict. Several weeks of careful sigint analysis had delivered a plan that should maximize the B-2’s chances. However, any significant deviation of the Chinese from their normal patrol schedules would mean that the American crews would have to adapt on the fly.
The major advantage the Americans had was their ability to track the Chinese radar planes and ground stations. Like a searchlight at night, the emissions of the powerful search radars were not hard to detect. This gave them waypoints to guide them away from the strongest emissions. The other major advantage this mission had was that they were releasing mines instead of bombs. Normally, when you dropped a load of JDAMs or other munitions, everyone knew there was a bomber in the vicinity. In this case, the mines were programmed to lie dormant for at least an hour after being dropped so the attack might go completely unnoticed. In theory.
“Skipper, approaching threshold. Airborne source at two hundred miles, bearing 45 degrees closing at 50 knots indicated. Designate contact X-Ray one.”
“Turning ten degrees left.”
“I have another airborne source at three hundred miles, bearing three hundred degrees closing at 10 knots indicated. Designate contact X-Ray two.”
“Gotcha. Keep me right down the middle. Let’s split them. Estimated minimum range to X-Ray one?”
“Current course and speed, one hundred miles.”
“Estimated threshold?”
“One hundred miles.”
“Right, let’s give her a bit more space then.”
“Roger that, sir.”
“Coming left another two degrees.”
“New minimum range one five zero miles.”
“Estimated minimum to X-Ray two?”
“One seven five miles.”
While flying a B-2 was not physically demanding, both Major
Whetherly and his co-pilot were sweating profusely in their flight suits.
“Range to optimum drop?”
“Five Zero miles.”
“Call it at ten miles and give me a count.”
“One zero miles.
Five. Prepare to drop. Drop, drop, drop.”
“Bombs away. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Bandits!! I have search radars coming up from the surface. Estimate that they have scrambled fighters to intercept.”
“Dammit. Give me a reciprocal.”
“Recommend course 170.
Maintain current altitude or better.”
While the “recommended” ceiling of the B-2 was 50,000 feet, she could fly higher. The “ceiling” was mostly a crew safety number to ensure that any cabin pressure loss was survivable. In this case, cabin pressure failure was the least of their concerns.
“Pushing to FL 550, course 170.”
The B-2’s official top speed was Mach 0.95 and she usually cruised at about Mach 0.85. In this case, stealth and aerodynamics were in agreement and the smooth curves and lack of vertical control surfaces made the B-2 very slippery in the air in addition to her stealth characteristics. This also made her very unstable to the point where a B-2 would be largely un-flyable without modern computerized flight controls. None of this went through Wetherly’s mind as he pushed the throttles to the stops. The higher and faster the better at this point. All he wanted was more speed and higher altitude.
At full afterburner, the Chinese fighters only had about twenty minutes of endurance. If they could avoid detection for that long, they were likely safe to continue the long flight back home.
“Do you think they detected us?”
“No, but I bet they saw the mines. Those things aren’t super stealthy.”
“Approaching threshold of first fighter group. Bearing 350, fifty miles and closing. Mach 2 at 20,000 feet and gaining altitude
quickly.”
“Fire control?”
“No just search radar still. I think they have not acquired.”
“Those AWACS birds painting us?”
“We are at 250 miles and moving away. I don’t think they acquired us either.”
“OK, beat the fighters and we are in the clear. How much endurance?”
“Estimate ten more minutes before they are bingo.”
“Rising to FL 560.”
“That a good idea skipper?
We’re going to lose control authority at some point.”
“Probably not, but getting shot down is worse. We can hold her, plus we can use the extra speed.”
The threat board was now emitting a very dire sounding buzzing. The tone and volume rising as the Chinese fighters got closer.
“Skipper, turn right twenty degrees.”
“Playing a hunch?”
“Yeah, I don’t think they have us, they are just estimating from ground intercept. Let’s screw up their solution.”
“That turns us towards X-Ray one though.”
“Yeah, they know that.
The safe move is to turn left.”
“Gotcha, turning twenty right.”
The two men in the cockpit stared intently at their instruments for a full minute. Finally, the co-pilot sighed in relief.
“They are not matching our turn. Range increasing.”
“They guessed wrong.”
“Looks like it. Keep an eye on them, heading back down to FL 500, reducing to Mach 0.85.”
“Roger that skipper.
We are well below threshold.”
“Welcome to modern air combat. Twelve hours of boredom followed by twenty minutes of terror, followed by twelve hours of boredom.”
“Happy for a little boredom skipper.”
“Roger that.”
Weatherly blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Not an overly religious man, he found himself praying. Please God, let my men make it back safely.
