The data link steering from the E-2 overhead was tight, and Todd toggled back to the MIDS display on the tactical page glass cockpit display. The smugglers’ support vessel, designated as track number 1182, was approximately forty miles southeast. Knowing such vessels were typically disguised as fishing trawlers, he made a mental note of a rough heading and distance to it after they completed their task here. With the track ball he “hooked” the cigarette boat, track 1147, an action that gave Mark a steering cue on his display. He then went back to the FLIR, placed the cursors on the bouncing white slash, and designated it. Once the FLIR was tracking the infrared image of the boat, he transmitted over the radio, “Tango Lima, track one-one-four-seven is captured.”
“Roger, Delta Charlie,” the E-2 controller answered. “Captured. Do you have VID?”
“Affirm, appears to be moonshine,” Todd answered, using the code word for smuggler.
Todd zoomed in on the boat and took a photo. Using the keypad, he sent a text message over encrypted data link with the photo attached to the E-2 controller high above and miles away. He then typed the word
“Stand by for combat checks. This will be a LOBL shot, Mark. Set up for a five-mile run in.”
“Roger that,” Mark replied.
Todd then saw a flashing “M” on the bottom left of his display, an answer from the E-2. That was fast, he thought. With the trackball, he clicked on it.
Todd typed back an acknowledgment, and keyed the ICS. “Okay, guys, we have a declared hostile. Gunners, you are cleared to lock and load.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Each door gunner answered, their faces covered with a “windshield” mask under their helmet visors that made them look like aliens from another world. On the left side door was the heavy 50 caliber GAU-21. The right gunner operated the smaller M240 using 7.62 ammunition. Over the constant whine of the jet engines and the thumping of the rotors above them, the pilots could hear the breech mechanisms slamming rounds home as the gunners prepared to engage on their signal. Todd lifted the switch over the MASTER ARM button and pushed it.
Allowing Mark to fly the aircraft, Todd continued with his Hellfire checklist: “AVT lock on target, reticle position… let’s pop up to one-fifty… mobility kill.”
“Roger, climb to one-fifty,” Mark replied, then added, “Turning in.”
“Roger,” Todd acknowledged.
The aircraft banked right, deepening the whup, whup, whup sound of the rotor blades as it dug harder into the Caribbean air. Mark placed the boat on his nose and lifted the aircraft to 150 feet. Todd was now head down on the FLIR. As he studied the boat, he was able to pick up contours from the heat contrasts, especially the four white-hot engines on the fantail. With the hand controller, his finger squeezed to the first detent.