Patrick McLanahan #06 - Fatal Terrain by Dale Brown

Author:Dale Brown [Brown, Dale]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780399142413
Publisher: San Val
Published: 1997-04-01T05:00:00+00:00

240 DALE BROWN

McLanahan shrugged. "In a combat situation, I wouldn't waste time on that. But now, with things quiet, press on."

Denton rolled the cursor onto one of the nearby U. Navy frigates, and the system quickly and correctly identified it as a Perry-class frigate; he tried Ming one of the previously classified "noncombatants"-it again reported as a trawler.

"What else, Jeff? Time's running out."

"Call the Navy and ask if they can get an eyeball on it,"

Denton suggested.

"Excellent suggestion," McLanahan said. "Never forget to ask someone else in your formation or task force to help out."

"Fat lot of good asking the Navy for anything does," Elliott grumbled.

McLanahan ignored him. "Do it. Think about what you need to give the Navy pukes. first, get the data together, then call."

"Rog," Denton nodded, pleased at himself for keeping up with the almost legendary Patrick McLanahan. He measured out a quick range and bearing from the prebriefed target reference point, called the "bull's-eye," then keyed the mike:

"Crew, OSO is going out over Fleet SATCOM." He waited for any negative replies, then switched over to the secure satellite frequency. "James Daniel, this is Headbanger."

A sailor with a very impatient voice that sounded as if he were sixteen years old responded, "Calling James Daniel on FLTSATCOM, go ahead." The voice sounded as if it didn't recognize the call sign "Headbanger," although it was the one briefed to all.participants and the one they had been using since the beginning.

"Headbanger requesting a visual or optical ID on radar target bearing two-four-three at fifty-seven bull's-eye, over."

The answer came back almost immediately from a different and far more annoyed operator: "Headbanger, unable at this time due to weather." The weather was marginal, but it certainly wouldn't keep a Navy helicopter from its patrol under normal circumstances, McLanahan thought. "Keep this channel clear. Out."

"Told you," Elliott said. "The squids hardly know we exist, and they sure as hell don't care."

McLanahan ignored that remark, too, but he was starting to get a little exasperated. "Okay," he said, turning his attention back to Denton. "Anything else you can try?"

FATAL TER RAI N 241

"We could launch a Striker or Wolverine at it and take a look on the datalink," Denton deadpanned.

"That sounds like an expensive suggestion," McLanahan said, "not to mention the fact that it could cause an international incident-or worse. You might have to just go with incomplete information. If you had time, you could go through all of the computer's guesses and try to get a feel for the analysis; in less hostile or non-stealth situations, you could turn on the attack radar and get an ID from the inverse synthetic aperture radar.

"But I'd assume at this point that it was hostile," Denton interjected. "The computer guessed at two Russian cruisers; that sounded like the worst-case analysis, so I'd go with that-either the Russians decided in the past couple days to send a cruiser down the Strait to see what all the excitement was about, or the Chinese have a really big destroyer or cruiser patrolling the area.

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