Sea of Shadows eBook - Navy Thriller.com

98 JEFF EDWARDS
But with such technological power came complexity, and the need for
continuous human attention and frequent adjustment. That was the job of
the Radar Control Officer: monitoring the condition of the SPY radar and
keeping it tuned for optimum performance based upon atmospheric
conditions and the types of ships and aircraft operating in and around its
detection envelope.
The Radar Control Officer answered Hartford’s call almost
immediately. “Air—RCO. Copy your suspected system artifact. Running
SPY diagnostics now. Stand by for updated system status.”
Hartford was about to key her mike to acknowledge when another
voice broke in on the circuit. “RCO—Surface. I’m getting it too. A big
section of my scope is getting creamed. I can’t see squat off the port side
of the stern. Somebody’s jamming us.”
The RCO’s reply was sharp. “Surface—RCO. Watch your
professionalism on the comm net! Didn’t they teach you anything in
school? SPY frequency-hops about a hundred times a second. You can’t
jam SPY without jamming the entire electromagnetic spectrum. Now
stand by while I run SPY diagnostics.”
Hartford nodded. The RCO was right. Everybody knew it was
impossible to jam SPY, and not just because of the frequency-hopping. At
four megawatts, SPY was powerful enough to burn through any jamming
signal known to man.
Hartford watched the brilliant triangle of static on her screen. It
couldn’t be a jammer, but it sure looked like one.
She punched her channel selector, patching her headset into the
Electronics Warfare circuit. “EW—Air. Are you showing any sort of
electromagnetic interference off the port quarter?” She shied away from
the word jammer. Better not to get people spun up over nothing.
The Electronics Warfare Technician was obviously trying to stifle a
yawn as his voice came over the comm circuit. “Air—EW. That’s a
negative. I’m tracking a couple of APG-79s and a WXR-2100 down in
that sector. Slick-32 shows no interference in any sector. The EM
spectrum looks nice and clean.”
“EW—Air. I copy no interference and a clean electromagnetic
spectrum. Thanks.” Hartford released her mike button. The APG-79s
would belong to the two F-18s she’d been tracking prior to the appearance
of the artifact, and the WXR-2100 must be weather radar for the Saudi
airliner she’d been tracking. Whatever the strange interference was, it was
not a jammer. If it had been, the Electronics Warfare Technicians would
have picked it up on their SLQ-32, or as they called it, the Slick-32.