Edge of Honor by Richard Herman

Author:Richard Herman [Herman, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 1999-12-17T07:00:00+00:00

Near Poznan, Poland

The bunker at Crown Central was unusually busy for a Sunday night. Crown Central was the middle early warning and GCI radar site that formed a chain across the middle of Poland with its sister sites, Crown East and Crown West. Normally, only the radar operator was awake at eleven o’clock and his main problem was to find something to read. But tonight, the entire crew was awake and still in a state of euphoric shock mixed with childlike delight over the new radar system the Americans had finished installing the day before. They never suspected a system like the AN/TPS-59 even existed. The contrast between the U.S.-built radar with its phased-array antenna, built-in antijam circuits, and sophisticated computer system and the old Soviet Barlock radar defied comparison. A vague image of the Wright brothers’ Flyer and a modern jet fighter flitted through the back of the young radar operator’s mind.

The American technician stood over the radar operator’s shoulder as the target they had been waiting for appeared on the scope, 165 miles to the west and still over Germany. “Roll the control ball and place the cursor over the target,” he explained. “Now press down on the ball until you feel the first detent.” The computer analyzed the target and spat out a wealth of digital information, displaying the key numbers on the screen next to the target. The target was an Ilyushin-76. “Good,” the American said. “If you want the system to track the target, press the ball to the second detent.” The Pole did as he said and the system flashed. The target became a green inverted V. “Now you can leave it or tag it up as a bandit—a hostile aircraft.”

“It’s a Vnukova aircraft,” the radar operator explained. “That’s a Russian diplomatic flight. We get two or three a week. They often land at Modlin Air Base near Warsaw when they are going to Europe but never on the return flight.”

“It’s hostile,” a man standing behind the American said. He was dressed in black combat fatigues and armed with an automatic strapped on his hip. Only the small patch on his right shoulder with the lightning bolt Ss flanking the P with its fishhook tail announced he was with Special Public Services.

The American reached over the radar operator and punched at the keyboard. The inverted green V turned red. A warning light flashed and the display went to a backup mode. “I’ll be damned,” the American said, “he’s jamming us. I didn’t know the Ilyushin had a jamming capability.” His hand reached for the antijam circuits on the overhead panel.

The SPS officer grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “This is a special flight. We don’t want to scare them off. I want him to land.”

“But eastbound flights never land,” the radar operator said.

“This one will,” the SPS officer predicted.

Now they had to wait. With each passing minute, the SPS officer looked more worried. Finally, the altitude readout on the target started to decrease. “The Ilyushin is descending,” the radar operator said.

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