Overkill

Chapter Three

Thursday

Voyska IA-PVO Unit, Arkhangel’sk, Confederation of Independent States

‘It’s turning, Colonel,’ Lieutenant Vetrov said. ‘We have forced the American down to the south, almost as far as Vologda, but now he’s turning to the west.’

‘Can the Moscow interceptors catch him?’ Kabalin demanded.

Vetrov switched in the predict vectors, then shook his head. ‘The easterly pair definitely can’t,’ he replied, ‘and the pair to the west are MiG–29s. They can’t hope to catch the American spy-plane in a tail-chase.’

‘Privalov,’ Kabalin ordered, swinging round in his seat, ‘take control of the Minsk MiG–31s. They’re all we have left. For all our sakes, they had better not fail.’

British Embassy, Sofiyskaya naberezhnaya 14, Moscow

In one corner of the parking area behind the Embassy building was a green tarpaulin loosely covering a crumpled wreck. It was just about possible to identify it as a small and somewhat elderly VAZ (Volzhsky Avtomobilny Zavod), or Lada as they are known outside Russia. It was about two-thirds as long as it should have been. The bonnet and front wings were crumpled and buckled backwards, the front tyres were slashed and torn on the ruined wheels, and the windscreen was smashed. The driving compartment and front end were blackened by fire. Both doors had apparently been immovably jammed shut in the crash, as the driver’s had been cut open, probably by an air-driven ripper gun, to get at the interior.

Like most old cheap Russian cars, it had only lap seat belts, which explained why the occupant had suffered such horrendous damage to his face and head. With the belt done up, the impact would have swung his body violently forward and downwards, pivoting at the hips, and causing his head to strike first the top of the steering wheel and then, if the impact had been violent enough, the top of the dashboard. The rib and clavicle fractures had undoubtedly been sustained by the impact of the torso with the steering wheel on its rigid column.

Richter looked carefully at the floor, and at the pedals. The former was buckled very badly, and the brake, clutch and accelerator pedals were twisted and bent. This was exactly what he had expected from the external damage to the front end of the vehicle, but not at all what would be indicated by the lack of lower limb fractures on the body. The logic was simple enough; if the driver had been intending to kill himself, he would have had his foot hard on the accelerator pedal. If he hadn’t been on a suicide trip, he would have been pressing the brake pedal as though his life depended on it. In either case, he would have sustained at least one fracture or dislocation in his right leg.

The fact that there were no fractures meant that the man’s feet were clear of the pedals at the moment of impact, which made no sense at all. Or, rather, it made no sense when taken in conjunction with the accident report. It actually made excellent sense to Richter. He straightened up from the wreck, made several notes in his small book, mainly for Erroll’s benefit, took down the registration number and put the book away.

‘It’s not surprising poor old Newman died in that, is it?’

‘It was not,’ Richter said, choosing his words carefully as they walked together back towards the Embassy building, ‘a survivable accident.’

Aspen Three Four

‘Radar contact. Green one five at sixty-five. Closing rapidly.’

‘Oh, fuck.’

‘No emissions, no classification, high speed. Broad spectrum jamming on; ECM on.’

‘Turning away. Keep talking.’

‘Stop the turn. Second contact. Red two zero at sixty-two miles. High speed, heading towards. No emissions. Probably two Foxbats, still under ground control. Both are high, above sixty. Contact to starboard designated Bandit One, contact to port Bandit Two.’

The SR–71A had turned to port, but Frank Roberts now straightened out and dived, picking up speed. The aircraft reached Mach 3.2 as it passed seventy-five thousand feet.

‘Bandit One green two zero at fifty-six miles, indicating sixty-five thousand; Bandit Two red one zero at fifty miles and sixty-two thousand. Both Bandits now on intercept courses, obviously still under ground control and – wait! Zaslon radar emissions detected from both contacts! Both MiG–31 Foxhound.’

‘Shit, that’s all we need. Remind me – what are they carrying?’

‘Probably four AA–9 Amos and either two AA–7 Apex or four AA–8 Aphids each.’

‘What’s the optimum engage range?’

‘The Apex and Aphids aren’t a problem, but the Amos has a range of sixty miles, with snap-up capability. The missiles are semi-active radar homing. Bandit One now green two five at fifty, level at sixty-five; Bandit Two still red one zero at forty-five, climbing slowly.’

The Blackbird was passing sixty thousand feet in a thirty-degree dive. Boxed-in by the Foxhounds, the one thing Roberts could not do was turn away. That would have turned the aircraft back towards the east, and safety lay only to the west, and it would also have slowed the Blackbird significantly, making it an easier target for the missiles carried by the Foxhounds. With no self-defence capability apart from the sophisticated ECM systems, he had to rely on superior performance – superior both to the Foxhounds and to their weapons.

‘Bandit One green two seven at forty-five; Bandit Two red one zero at forty. Both now descending to follow us. Not too low, boss, we’re getting close to SAM engage limits.’

In fact, the Russian SAM–5 has a maximum ceiling of 125,000 feet – thirty thousand feet higher than the Blackbird’s operational ceiling – and can carry a small thermonuclear warhead designed to destroy enemy bombers and missiles within about one hundred miles of the point of detonation. But this lethal missile has only ever been deployed in relatively small numbers around particularly sensitive sites, and the Blackbird’s mission planners had calculated a route which avoided all known SAM–5 sites by at least one hundred miles. What Paul James was more worried about were the short-range conventional surface-to-air missiles which were scattered like confetti across the whole of the Asian landmass.

‘We’re getting out of here right now.’

The Blackbird was indicating Mach 3.3 and passing fifty thousand feet as Frank Roberts initiated the climb. His tactic was simple. The Foxhound is known to have impressive high-altitude capabilities, but due to its reliance upon conventional aerodynamics and relatively unsophisticated engines, it is not particularly agile at high altitudes. In particular, climbing turns tend to bleed off speed very rapidly.

In contrast, the Blackbird is comparatively agile and, having induced the Foxhounds to follow him down – as he had known they would have to if they were to get the SR–71A within their missile engagement limits – Frank Roberts now hoped the Blackbird’s superior climbing ability would get him above and beyond the Foxhounds and out of range.

‘Bandit One green three zero range thirty-five, five thousand below; Bandit Two red one five at range thirty, three thousand below. Both turning and climbing to follow.’

Voyska IA-PVO Unit, Arkhangel’sk, Confederation of Independent States

There was near-silence in the operations room, just a murmur of voices from the group of officers clustered around the three main consoles, but the tension was almost palpable.

‘Interceptor Eight reports that the American is climbing,’ Lieutenant Privalov said.

‘The Americans are good,’ Kabalin said, almost approvingly. ‘You can see their strategy. They force our interceptors to follow them in the dive and then they climb so our aircraft lose speed. But we’ll have them yet. Don’t try to match the American aircraft. Give the MiG–31s vectors for the target’s predicted track and authorize immediate release of their missiles as soon as they achieve target acquisition.’

Normal PVO intercept procedure is for the ground controllers to retain control of their interceptors until the