Chapter 111 – Fire Over the Deck
USS Chicago heavy cruiser.
"Fire, fire now!" The order came not only for the aircraft in the air, but to all escorting warships. Authorization to engage had been given.
Lieutenant Colonel Johnson clenched his fists. "Brass Knights, fire!"
The first-generation U.S. Navy long-range air defense missiles were tasked with guarding the skies above the fleet. Now, the two Soviet intruders couldn't be allowed to return alive.
With Johnson's order, the SPS-43 search radar spun at full power. The MiG-25s had already passed overhead, and the radar easily acquired their data. The SPS-30 tracking radar picked up the signal, and the dish-shaped antenna on the second deck locked on.
On the deck, the dual-arm launchers of the Brass Knight missiles swiveled toward the retreating Soviet fighters. Launch data loaded.
"Two salvos, one target each," Johnson ordered.
These older warships lacked vertical launch cells like the later MK41 systems. The twin-arm launchers could only fire two missiles at once. For higher kill probability, a pair was assigned to each target.
Despite the rushed situation, the well-trained crew completed preparations swiftly. Still, the outdated electronic systems took time to respond. Fifty-seven seconds passed from order to readiness.
"Launch!" The launch officer pressed the red button.
From the forward deck, two massive missiles ignited, engulfing the area in brilliant flame.
At 11.6 meters long, 0.7 meters in diameter, and over 3.5 tons in weight, the Brass Knight missiles were closer in size to anti-ship missiles. Powered by ramjets, they were cutting-edge by Cold War standards.
Their cylindrical bodies housed a solid-fuel booster for launch, followed by a second-stage ramjet powered by a kerosene and volatile oil mixture.
With a roar, the solid boosters kicked the missiles off the rails at Mach 0.8. Once clear, the boosters fell away, and the ramjets took over, trailing streaks of fire.
The missiles' X-shaped wings cut through the air, the nose cones compressing airflow into the ring-shaped intakes around them to maintain combustion. Ramjets, unlike rockets, didn't carry oxidizers, reducing overall weight and increasing range.
Back in the MiG-25 cockpit, Andre's warning receiver buzzed wildly.
Missiles inbound.
While a MiG-25 at 30,000 meters would be untouchable, Andre was only at 18,000 meters—and just 40 kilometers from the carrier formation. Within lethal range.
Quickly, he evaluated: at this distance, it had to be a Phoenix missile or a ship-launched Brass Knight.
Either way, it was radar-guided—not infrared. That was better. Different threats, different countermeasures.
Like most Soviet aircraft, the MiG-25 had poor rear visibility. Andre relied solely on the warning receiver's tone to judge the incoming threat.
At 10 kilometers, the SPG-49 target illumination radar kicked in, providing a continuous wave lock for terminal guidance.
The warning tones became urgent.
Andre silently counted. Ten… nine… eight…
At zero, he yanked the stick and slammed the rudder. With his free hand, he triggered chaff release.
Platinum strips burst from the MiG-25, fluttering in the air.
Against radar-guided missiles, a last-second maneuver plus chaff was the best bet. Modern seekers had tighter filters, but these Cold War-era missiles lacked such sophistication.
The MiG-25 banked sharply under 4G of force. The two incoming missiles lost lock, veered off, and self-destructed several kilometers away.
Andre blinked in the sudden calm, slightly stunned. A second slower, and he could have been hit. Even outside the direct kill zone, the concussion could have done serious damage.
"032, 032, are you okay?" Alexander's voice crackled through the headset.
He had seen the launch and Andre's maneuver from a distance.
"All good," Andre replied coolly. "027, keep climbing."
They were now beyond the reach of the Brass Knight system.
But just as Andre was reforming with Alexander, the warning receiver screamed again. Another lock-on.