Olson's men will help the Yanks install the main towlines so when O'Brien's tugs arrive at midnight, we'll be set to pull her off."
The moon was with them-the tides would be ideal to float the big ship, providing everything was
99
ready. And one of the first tasks Yaz's men would perform would be to get the carrier's aircraft-retrieval systems in order. Once that was done, Hunter, his F-16 already equipped with the necessary belly-attached arresting hook, would be able to land on the USS Saratoga's flight deck. Important task number two would be to get the carrier's aircraft-launching catapult systems working.
Hunter knew the recovery plan was solid. But he also knew all too well that the best-laid plans are usually screwed up by an uncalculated variable. Sir Neil read his mind.
"The Fist shouldn't be that much of a problem," he said. "But as far as the Faction soldiers on R and R, well, we have to expect the unexpected. We have to assume that they bring their equipment on liberty with them, and as they are a motorized division, this means tanks and personnel carriers. Plus they can just as easily pick up a radiophone and buy some freelance air cover or heavy warships.
"That's where you come in, Major Hunter. We'll have to rely on you to counter anything unexpected, either in the air, on the sea, or on the ground."
Hunter knew it was a tall order. But the cause was worthy.
"It's going to take some practice to set the Tornados down on the carrier,"
Sir Neil continued. "We won't be able to do it during this operation. So only you and your F-16 have the agility to do it with so little preparation. Plus it will probably be dark by the time we get the arresting cables working. So you'll be looking at a nighttime landing. But, for at least the time being, you'll have to be our only recoverable aircraft. Let's just hope the sea stays calm and it doesn't get too sticky."
Yaz turned to Hunter and with a wide grin said,
100
"Welcome to the Navy, major."
Hunter shook his head. "This is what I get for betting against Army all those years."
The six Tornados swept in at wavetop level, rising up to 500 feet only when they were in sight of the coast of southern France. The crude radar system of the Iron Fist picked up the incoming blips about a mile out to sea.
Antiaircraft guns opened up almost immediately after the airplanes passed over the first row of beachfront casinos of Villefranche. The British pilots expertly maneuvered around the deadly bursts of smoke and proceeded to select targets of opportunity. It was an hour before dusk. The opening shots in the plan to free the USS Saratoga had been fired.
Three of the Tornados split off and were soon over the beach near where the USS Saratoga lay. The three remaining British jets repeatedly twisted and turned their way above the city, firing at the ack-ack guns and lining up the not-yet-warm SAM sites for laser-guided bombs.
A little more than 10,000 feet above, Hunter orbited in his F-16. He was able to watch the action around Villefranche via his terrain-radar video system. It was like having a TV camera hovering over the battle. Meanwhile, he could see the three Norwegian frigates as they dashed for Gold Beach, their cargo of 600
SAS troopers waiting on the decks to be loaded onto landing craft and put ashore. The remaining frigate, carrying Sir Neil and the command staff, circled the Saratoga. The immobile aircraft carrier, its stern pointing directly toward the beach 2000 feet away, was a huge, imposing sight, dark and ominous in the middle of the now-frenetic
101
activity.
His radar picked up the blip of the approaching RAF helicopter. This would be ferrying the SAS troops to be dropped onto the carrier.
So far, so good, he thought.
Hunter moved the F-16 directly over the carrier just as the Sea King chopper was setting down on the deck. He knew twenty-four SAS men were leaping out, and by the chatter on his radio he also knew that the landing on the carrier was
The moon was with them-the tides would be ideal to float the big ship, providing everything was
99
ready. And one of the first tasks Yaz's men would perform would be to get the carrier's aircraft-retrieval systems in order. Once that was done, Hunter, his F-16 already equipped with the necessary belly-attached arresting hook, would be able to land on the USS Saratoga's flight deck. Important task number two would be to get the carrier's aircraft-launching catapult systems working.
Hunter knew the recovery plan was solid. But he also knew all too well that the best-laid plans are usually screwed up by an uncalculated variable. Sir Neil read his mind.
"The Fist shouldn't be that much of a problem," he said. "But as far as the Faction soldiers on R and R, well, we have to expect the unexpected. We have to assume that they bring their equipment on liberty with them, and as they are a motorized division, this means tanks and personnel carriers. Plus they can just as easily pick up a radiophone and buy some freelance air cover or heavy warships.
"That's where you come in, Major Hunter. We'll have to rely on you to counter anything unexpected, either in the air, on the sea, or on the ground."
Hunter knew it was a tall order. But the cause was worthy.
"It's going to take some practice to set the Tornados down on the carrier,"
Sir Neil continued. "We won't be able to do it during this operation. So only you and your F-16 have the agility to do it with so little preparation. Plus it will probably be dark by the time we get the arresting cables working. So you'll be looking at a nighttime landing. But, for at least the time being, you'll have to be our only recoverable aircraft. Let's just hope the sea stays calm and it doesn't get too sticky."
Yaz turned to Hunter and with a wide grin said,
100
"Welcome to the Navy, major."
Hunter shook his head. "This is what I get for betting against Army all those years."
The six Tornados swept in at wavetop level, rising up to 500 feet only when they were in sight of the coast of southern France. The crude radar system of the Iron Fist picked up the incoming blips about a mile out to sea.
Antiaircraft guns opened up almost immediately after the airplanes passed over the first row of beachfront casinos of Villefranche. The British pilots expertly maneuvered around the deadly bursts of smoke and proceeded to select targets of opportunity. It was an hour before dusk. The opening shots in the plan to free the USS Saratoga had been fired.
Three of the Tornados split off and were soon over the beach near where the USS Saratoga lay. The three remaining British jets repeatedly twisted and turned their way above the city, firing at the ack-ack guns and lining up the not-yet-warm SAM sites for laser-guided bombs.
A little more than 10,000 feet above, Hunter orbited in his F-16. He was able to watch the action around Villefranche via his terrain-radar video system. It was like having a TV camera hovering over the battle. Meanwhile, he could see the three Norwegian frigates as they dashed for Gold Beach, their cargo of 600
SAS troopers waiting on the decks to be loaded onto landing craft and put ashore. The remaining frigate, carrying Sir Neil and the command staff, circled the Saratoga. The immobile aircraft carrier, its stern pointing directly toward the beach 2000 feet away, was a huge, imposing sight, dark and ominous in the middle of the now-frenetic
101
activity.
His radar picked up the blip of the approaching RAF helicopter. This would be ferrying the SAS troops to be dropped onto the carrier.
So far, so good, he thought.
Hunter moved the F-16 directly over the carrier just as the Sea King chopper was setting down on the deck. He knew twenty-four SAS men were leaping out, and by the chatter on his radio he also knew that the landing on the carrier was
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