able to support his head upright, scanning the eight rows of instruments crowded on the forward panel.

'Fighters passing overhead,' Wendy said, her report confirmed by the roar of turbojets in full afterburner skimming over the jet-black bomber. 'But coming around for another pass.'

'Like hell,' McLanahan said, pressed the RADIATE button on his attack radar and slaved the azimuth- elevation controls to Wendy's threat receiver. The attack-radar's antenna immediately swung to the azimuth of the fighter and began a heightt:1nding scan of the sky The radar reflection of the attacking fighter only a few miles away showed clear as a mountain on McLanahan's radar, He typed 'TRACK I' on his keyboard and a small circle cursor centered itself on the return. The LED azimuth and elevation readouts flickered as the antennas raced to keep up with the retreating fighter.

'Locked on, Angelina,' McLanahan asked. 'Take over.'

Angelina was ready. With Pilot consent already given, she pressed the COMMIT button on the forward Scorpion missile pylons. In one twenty-fifth of a second the fire-control computer selected a missile on the right pylon, gave it the initial elevation, azimuth and distance computations from the attack radar and ejected the air-to- air missile from the pylon down into the Old Dog's slipstream.

The advanced Medium-Range Air-to-Air Missile's gyros stabilized the ten-foot-long missile in the slipstream as if it were a sprinter feeling for a footing in the starting blocks. In the next three hundredths of a second static ports on the missile's body sensed the slipstream around it and armed the Scorpion's one-hundred-pound high explosive warhead. The same sensor set the Scorpion's large thirty-G rear fin to the proper angle, took one last look-around self-test, and fired its solid propellant motor.

Elliott and Ormack saw a blinding flash of light race a few hundred yards ahead of the Old Dog, then suddenly change direction up and over their heads. An instant later a huge fire with a red benaltlireeruupptsetdaijrsusctrbeewhicnodmEpllairottmtesnstidoef wthiend(olwd, Dilolugminating the yellow glare.

'A hit,' Elliott said, shielding his eyes from the glare.

'I've got the second low-altitude fighter,' Angelina said, confirming the fire-control computer's radar lock on the target.

She held the safety levers of the Stinger airmine rockets down and fired twice.

'Second fighter decelerating,' Angelina reported. 'Sitting stable off our left rear quarter… slowing… we got him. I think we FODed him out.'

'What?' Wendy asked.

'FODed him out. He sucked in an engineful of scrap metal. 'Upstairs Wendy signaled a gloved okay to Angelina as the gunnery expert watched the range gate of the fighter rapidly increase as it fell behind.

Wendy noted that her infrared tailwarning seeker had locked itself onto the disabled fighter, but she ignored the indication-Angelina had already tagged that one.

The Soviet pilot aboard the Mikoyan-Gureyvich E-2heM 'Foxbat-E' interceptor was preparing to abandon his aircraft.

He was watching two hydraulic system failure-warning lights and two engine overspeed-warning lights, aware that although the flash of light was far behind him he had flown through a cloud of something… he could almost hear the flak rattling around in his engine's turbines, tearing through the hydraulic lines, ripping the compressor blades apart. The intruder, whatever it was, was invisible through the glare of the warning lights on his canopy.

But he did notice one more set of lights-the lock-on indication of two of his K-13A Atoll missiles tracking the intruder. Seconds before power drained from his interceptor, the pilot selected every last one of his remainin missiles, and with his other hand on his ejection ring, pres e sed the missile launch trigger.

Ormack was checking his switches and asking General Elliott cross-cockpit how he was feeling. McLanahan had just put his attack radar to STANDBY and was leaning over to help Luger with terrain calls.

Angelina had completed a quick scan of the rear hemisphere of the Old Dog before putting her radar to STANDBY Wendy was readjusting a twisted parachu strap, trying to unwind a bit from her first real fighter engagement.

But the supercooled eye of the infrared seeker mounted on top of the short curved V-tail of the Old Dog wasn't relaxing. It was tracking the dimming heat signature of the fighter far behind them when it noticed the sudden increase in the heatsignature of the target as two heat-seeking missiles streaked toward the Old Dog's eight Pratt and Whitney TF33 turbofan engines. The increase quickly surpassed the delta-pK thermal threshold programmed into it months earlier by Wendy herself, and an MLD indicator flashed at both Tork's and Ormack's position. Simultaneously with the warning light, the decoy system ejected one bundle of chaff and one phosphorous flare from both left and right ejectors.

The automatic response to the infrared missile attack would have been successful-had anyone noticed the MLD warning indicators and initiated evasive action. The warning tone sounded in everyone's headsets at the same time the light illuminated, but both Ormack and Tork had to be watching for the target on the threat display and expecting the attack to escape the heat-seeking missiles, By the time Wendy noticed the blinking red Missile Launch Detection light, the Atoll missiles had accelerated to nearly Mach 2 and had closed the short distance between them in the blink of an eye.

Even so, the automatic system had its saving effect. The flares, shot two hundred yards away from the bomber's belly, caught the Atoll missiles' attention, providing a momentary distraction. But at less than a mile away the missiles could not ignore the huge globes of heat emanating from the Old Dog's turbofan engines.

One missile locked momentarily onto the right flare, then back onto the right engines. The sudden swing of the I.R seeker head from one hot target to another-a sign that the seeker had picked up a decoy-triggered a proximity detonation signal to the sixty-pound warheads-the missile exploded less than twenty yards from the Old Dog's V-tail vertical stabilizer, blowing off the top nine feet of the Old Dog's right stabilator tail and leaving a short jagged stub of metal where the stabilator used to be.

The other missile took a sideways glance at the decoy flare and swung a few precious feet to the left toward the flare, but it wasn't enough to divert it. Driven by the solid propellant engine just approaching full thrust, it plunged into the exhaust port of the number one engine and detonated. That explosion immediately turned the number one engine into a blob of molten metal and New what remained of the already damaged left wingtip into a shower of fire.

and pulled by one lost engine, skidded violently to the left The Old Dog, pushed by an exploding missile on one side Ormack was able to keep the bomber a fe knots above the stall only because all eight engines were already at maximum thrust. Stomping on the right rudder, he turned the control wheel full to the right. The lights flickered in the crew compartment and the interphone began to squeal.

'We're hit,' Ormack reported, and pushed the right rudder hard all the way to the floor. The Old Dog slowly, slowly began to straighten its sideways slide. As it did, Ormack scanned the caution lights and engine instruments, but it was Elliott who noticed the engine instruments while Ormack fought for aircraft control.

'Fire on number one,' he called out. Ormack glanced quickly at number one's engine instruments to confirm the call, then pulled the number one throttle CLOSED.Elliott, his hand on the fire-shutoff switch, pulled the T-handle when be saw Ormack's hand reaching for it. He then began reciting the emergency checklist: 'Starter switch off.'

Ormack checked the switch. 'Off.'

'Electrical panel.'

'Checking,' Ormack said, scanning the a-c and d-c electrical panel on his right instrument panel. 'Crew, we've shut down number one engine.

Shut off all unnecessary equipment or we'll lose another generator.'

He checked the generator panel and confirmed total loss number-one generator.

'All other generators are on high load but they're okay so far.'

'Bleed selector switch, normal left hand inboard,' Elliott continued, now reading from the emergency checklist displayed On the cockpit computer monitor.

'Normal.

Elliott painfully hauled himself forward out of his seat and strained to look out the cockpit window.

' Fire light has gone out,' Ormack confirmed, then began a check of the fuel panel.

'I think we have a leak in the number one wing tank, but it doesn't look too serious. 'He reached down to a

Вы читаете Flight Of The Old Dog
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату
×