Fortunes of War by Stephen Coonts

have at least a fighting chance of accomplishing their mission. If the Japanese sweep them from the sky—for whatever reason—we will be worse off than if we did nothing. Offering hors d’oeuvres to a hungry lion is bad policy.”
    Tuck loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves.
    Bob Cassidy took a deep breath. He appreciated the stakes involved, but he knew what trained pilots could do with the F-22.
    â€œSubject to the qualifiers we discussed, sir, I think a Raptor squadroncould go toe-to-toe with the new Zero. With the right pilots, we can give them a hell of a fight.”
    â€œA dozen planes is all we can give you,” Stanford Tuck said, “so you are going to be outnumbered by a bunch.” He laid both hands flat on his desk.
    â€œYou may as well hear all of it,” the general said. “We cannot give you the new, long-range missiles. The politicians refused. You can take AMRAAMs and Sidewinders, but nothing that has technology we don’t want the Japanese or Russians to see.” AMRAAM stood for advanced medium-range anti-aircraft missile; it was also known as the AIM-120C.
    â€œSky Eye?”
    â€œNo. The thinking is that if foreign powers learn how good Sky Eye is, they will target our satellites in any future conflict.”
    â€œOur satellites are already targets.”
    â€œLow-priority targets.”
    â€œBut—”
    Tuck raised a hand. “I’m not here to argue. I didn’t make that decision. We have to live with it.”
    â€œWhy the hell buy it if we can’t use it?” Cassidy asked with some irritation.
    â€œThis country’s future isn’t on the come line just now,” Tuck said with his eyes half-closed. He seemed to be trying to measure Cassidy. “You and I are on the same side.”
    â€œI’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean—”
    â€œGo talk to Eatherly.”
    As Eatherly led Cassidy from the room, he stuck out his hand. “My friends call me John. Did you get along okay with the old man?”
    â€œI think so.”
    In his office, Eatherly pulled a chair around for Cassidy and got out a legal pad.
    â€œDoes the general really think an F-22 squadron in Siberia has a chance?”
    Eatherly looked surprised. “What are you saying?”
    Cassidy frowned. “Or does he want me to give him reasons to say no?”
    â€œI believe he was hoping you could show him how this proposal could be made to work,” Eatherly replied thoughtfully. “If you think it can.”
    Cassidy rubbed his face hard. “I—”
    â€œ You are going to be leading this parade, Colonel. The tender, quivering ass on the plate this time is yours.”
    Bob Cassidy sat lost in thought for a long moment. Then he said, “My source in Japan says the Zeros are invisible to radar. He says the Japanese acquired—stole—an American project called Athena.”
    Eatherly nodded. “There was a black American project with that name. I checked when I saw your report on the Zero. The American project died years ago.”
    â€œHow did it work?”
    â€œIt was active ECM. When the signal from an enemy radar was detected, the raw data was put through a superconductive computer, which then used other antennas buried in the aircraft’s skin to emit an out-of-sync wave that effectively canceled the enemy radar signal.”
    â€œBut what about scatter effect? Radar A transmits a signal, but B receives it?”
    â€œThe computer knows the scatter characteristics of the airplane it is protecting, so it emits the proper amount of energy in all directions. That was the heart of it.”
    â€œWhy didn’t we develop it?”
    Eatherly shrugged. “Ran out of money.”
    â€œTerrific.”
    â€œThe F-22 is very stealthy,” Eatherly mused. “With your radar off, you might escape detection until you are into visual range.”
    â€œIt isn’t that stealthy,”