Plan of Attack

“Your tail is clear.”

“Thanks, Bobcat,” Merritt radioed back on the secure radio frequency. “We owe you big-time.”

Merritt’s “guardian angel” was an unmanned EB-1C Vampire long-range bomber. Launched from Battle Mountain Air Reserve Base twelve hours earlier, it was one of the most advanced SEAD weapon systems ever developed. A modified B-1B strategic bomber, its three bomb bays were loaded with a mix of defensive weapons: twelve long-range radar-guided AIM-120 Scorpion air-to-air missiles on a rotary launcher in the forward bomb bay; six AGM-88 HARMs — high-speed antiradiation missiles — on another launcher in the center bomb bay; and eight AGM-65M Longhorn Maverick TV-and imaging-infrared precision-guided missiles in the aft bomb bay. The Vampires also had advanced ultraprecise laser radar systems that could locate and identify enemy targets at long range, even spacecraft in low Earth orbit.

“We can hang with you for another thirty minutes,” Whitley said, “and then we’ll have to reverse course and hit our tanker. But after we refuel, we’ll head back in to cover your approach into Yakutsk and your egress.”

“Copy that, Bobcat,” Merritt said. “We’ll be waiting for you. What’s the word from Condor?”

There was a slight, strained pause. Then: “They may be having some problems. Stand by….”

* * *

Warning, airborne radar in target-tracking mode, eight o’clock, fifty-five miles,” the threat-warning computer announced.

The commandos inside the little Condor heard a loud baarkk! sound coming from the rear, followed by a very substantial shudder, another animal-like cough, and then a faint whirring sound. “Engine up to thirty percent…thirty-five percent…forty…forty-five percent…Starters off, temps in the green, looks like we got a good light,” Matt Wilde reported. “Power’s coming up…generators coming online.” At that moment the rumbling and shuddering completely disappeared — it was as if they had suddenly been firmly planted on solid bedrock. “Mission-adaptive system active, guys. Power up to eighty-five percent. Looks like the engine swallowed a chunk of ice, but everything looks okay.”

“ ‘Looks okay,’ huh? You’re not being chased by a damned Russian MiG!” Hal Briggs retorted. “Where is that sucker?”

“Eight o’clock, less than forty miles,” Dave Luger said. “Stand by….”

“ ‘Stand by’? Dave, what’s happening out there?”

* * *

I think the fighter has you guys,” Luger radioed from Battle Mountain. “We’re working right now to buy you some time.”

“He’s got one MiG lining up on Condor and another that’ll get within firing range soon,” Whitley reported.

Luger had no choice. “Deploy the towed array on the EB-52, open target fins, and send out a beacon signal,” he ordered. Whitley reluctantly complied. A small, bullet-shaped device unreeled itself from a fairing on the EB-52 Megafortress’s tail. When the device was about two hundred yards behind the bomber, it opened up several fins and began sending out a tracking beacon. The device was an ALE-55 towed electronic-countermeasures array. As well as acting as a jamming antenna and decoy, the array could also act like an air target by making its radar cross- section larger and by sending out identification signals.

“Any chance he’ll run out of gas before he catches up with the Megafortress?” Whitley asked.

“He hasn’t caught it yet, Wildman,” Luger said.

* * *

Control, I have a weak radar return at my two o’clock position, sixty-four K,” the MiG-29 pilot reported. “I initially saw the target heading east, but this one appears to be heading west. Can you verify my radar contact? He’s at my two o’clock, sixty K meters, descending at two hundred and forty kilometers per hour. No infrared signature yet — he is either very stealthy or unpowered.”

“Negative, Two-one,” the ground controller reported. “We show negative radar contacts. Be advised, Tashnit Four-seven is engaging targets approximately in your vicinity. Recommend you return to — Stand by, Two-one.” The MiG pilot cursed in frustration. It took several moments for the controller to come back up. “Two-one, we now have a pop-up radar contact, unidentified aircraft, altitude base plus sixteen, range one-one-five K, bearing one-zero-five degrees, heading east at four-eight-zero K. Vector ninety-five left to intercept.”

The MiG pilot hated giving up the chase on a sure contact, but he had no choice except to comply. He plugged in min afterburner as he turned to the new vector heading. At min afterburner, flying just below the speed of sound, it would take him nearly ten minutes to catch up with the unidentified plane. “I’m going to need a relief chaser here in a few minutes, control,” he advised.

“Tashnit Four-nine flight of two will be airborne in a few minutes,” the controller reported. “They’ll join on you after they prosecute the westbound target. You are clear to engage your target, Two-one.”

“Two-one understands, cleared to engage,” the pilot acknowledged.

Since the ground-radar controller had radar contact now, he didn’t need to activate his own radar. Moments later his infrared search-and-track sensor picked up the unidentified aircraft. With the IRSTS locked on, he could close to infrared-missile range and shoot him down without ever being detected. The target was still flying along, fat, dumb, and happy — no evasive maneuvers, just straight, slow, high-altitude flight, exactly like a training target.

“Range twenty K, Two-one.”

“Acknowledged,” the MiG pilot replied. The IRSTS gave him azimuth and elevation, not range, so he didn’t know exactly when the R-73 heat-seeking missile would lock on, but all he had to do was—

There! He heard a loud beepbeepbeep! and saw a REYS indication on his heads-up display. He flipped open the safety cover on his fire button and—

At that moment the target dropped quickly in altitude — slowly at first, then faster and faster. In less than three seconds, it had completely disappeared! That didn’t make sense! He searched in the darkness to see if he could spot it…nothing! “Control, Two-one, I have lost the target! It appears to have dropped straight down. Vector!”

“Two-one, target last seen at your twelve o’clock position, eighteen K. Negative contact at this time.”

“Khuy na!” the MiG-29 pilot swore. How in hell could he be right there one second, as big as a fucking house, and then completely gone the next? He had no choice: He had to activate his pulse-Doppler radar to reacquire.

As soon as he flicked it on, there it was, right at the very right edge of his radarscope and lower, as big as day. But just as he flicked the switch on his control stick to switch from heat- seeking missiles to radar-guided missiles and take a shot, he received heavy jamming so persistent and agile that his counter-countermeasures equipment still couldn’t burn through it. “Detskaya, this is Tashnit Two-one, be advised, as soon as I was able to lock on with my radar, I encountered very heavy jamming, all frequencies and modes.”

But as soon as he let up on the mike button, he heard an unbelievably loud squealing noise. Comm jamming! This bastard had jammed his radio frequencies as well! He was hostile, no doubt about it now. But once the pilot turned toward the fleeing aircraft, his IRSTS sensor picked him up once again. Without the radar and without vectors, his only chance now was to close in to heat-seeking-missile range again. And he had better hurry — the bastard was flying farther and farther away from base, and his own bingo fuel level was fast approaching.

The enemy aircraft had sped up now, but it was still about half of the fighter’s speed. Keeping the power up but being careful not to select a higher afterburner power setting, he zoomed in for the kill.

* * *

Here he comes,” Whitley said. He had cut loose the towed decoy array just as the MiG closed within twelve miles, the max range of the AA-11 “Archer” missile, and as soon as he did, he turned the EB-52 bomber hard right, started a rapid descent, and jammed the throttles to full military power. If the MiG had locked on to the towed decoy, once it was cut loose, he would disappear from sight — but not for long. Even a stealthy bird like the Megafortress couldn’t hide its four huge, hot turbofans for long. “Sir?”

“Take him down,” Dave Luger said simply.

“Roger that.” Whitley entered instructions to his remote aircraft-control section, who designated the MiG-29 as an active target. The EB-52 aircraft that launched the Condor aircraft and StealthHawk unmanned attack aircraft couldn’t carry its normal complement of weapons, but it did carry some defensive weapons: two AIM-120 Scorpion air-to-air radar-guided missiles on each wing pylon.