Free Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 06 by Fatal Terrain (v1.1)

and a thin, glass- smooth fuselage. Unlike a line
B-52, the Megafortress’s wingtips did not curl upward while in flight—the
plane’s all-composite fibersteel skeleton and skin, as strong as steel but many
times lighter, maintained an aerodynamically perfect airfoil no matter how
heavily it was loaded or what flight condition it was in. A long, low,
canoe-shaped fairing sat atop the fuselage, housing long-range surveillance
radars for scanning the sea, land, or skies for enemy targets in all
directions, as well as active laser anti-missile countermeasures equipment and
communications antennae. The large vertical and horizontal stabilizers on the
tail were replaced by low, curving V-shaped ruddervators. A large aft-facing
radar mounted between the ruddervators searched and tracked enemy targets in
the rear quadrant; and instead of a 20-millimeter Gatling tail gun, the
Megafortress had a single long cannon muzzle that looked far more sinister, far
more deadly, than any machine gun. The cannon fired small guided missiles,
called “airmines,” that would fly toward an oncoming enemy fighter, then
explode and scatter thousands of BB-like titanium projectiles directly in the
fighter’s flight path, shelling jet engines and piercing thin aircraft skin or
cockpit canopies.
                The most striking changes in the
Megafortress were under its long, thin wings. Instead of eight Pratt &
Whitney T33 turbofan engines, the EB-52 Megafortress sported just four
airliner-style General Electric CF6 fanjet engines, modified for use on this
experimental aircraft. The CF6 engines were quieter, less smoky, and gave the
Megafortress over 60 percent more thrust than did the old turbofans, but with
30 percent greater fuel economy. At
nearly a half-million pounds gross weight, the Megafortress could fly nearly
halfway around the world at altitudes of over 50,000 feet—unrefueled!
                 The
Megafortress was so highly computerized that the normal B-52 crew complement of
six had been reduced down to four—a pilot and copilot; a defensive systems
officer, who was in charge of bomber defense; and an offensive systems officer,
who was in charge of employing the ground and anti-radar attack weapons and who
also acted as the reconnaissance, surveillance, and air intelligence officer.
The OSO’s and DSO’s stations were now on the upper deck of the EB-52, facing
forward; the lower deck was now configured as an expanded avionics bay and also
included a galley, lavatory, and seats and bunk area for extra crew members who
might be taken aboard for long missions.
                 “Jon’s
only intervention was to redesignate the first target again so the Wolverine
could reattack,” McLanahan pointed out. McLanahan was not nearly as tall as
Terrill Samson, but he, too, was broad-shouldered and powerfully built—he just
seemed to fit perfectly in the EB-52 bomber’s OSO’s seat, as if that’s where he
always belonged. It was as if McLanahan had been born to fly in that seat, or
as if the controls and displays had been sized and positioned precisely to fit
him and him alone—which, in fact, they had. “The upgraded missile has a
rearward sensor capability for autonomous bomb damage assessment. With a
satellite datalink, an operator—either on the carrier aircraft, on any other
JTIDS-equipped aircraft in the area, or eventually from a ground command
station thousands of miles away—could command the Wolverine to reattack.”
                 “That
twenty-G turn, evading the AMRAAM,” Samson remarked, his voice still quivering
with excitement, “. . . it was breathtaking. It looked like a cartoon, some
kind of science-fiction-movie thing.”
                 “Not
science fiction—science fact,” McLanahan said. “The Wolverine has thrust-vectored control jets instead of
conventional wings and tail surfaces, and a mission-adaptive fuselage controlled
by microhydraulics—the entire