Retribution

“I have fifteen minutes of fuel, no reserves.”

“And you’re complaining?”

As soon as Cowboy started his run on the antiaircraft gun, Sparks told the Osprey to proceed. The area for the refueling rendezvous had been carefully plotted so it was far from any Indian or Pakistani radars. The tanker aircraft — another Osprey rigged for refueling — approached over southern Pakistan, sneaking away as its F/A-18 escorts tangled with a pair of Pakistani F-16s.

As the Flighthawk tracked back to cover Angry Bear, Sparks took the Megafortress west, checking the path to the ocean. With roughly two hundred miles to go, their best course was a beeline over the Rann of Kutch. There were several radar installations there, but only one missile site; Sparks had Micelli target it and was just about to give the order to fire when a fresh flight of Indian Mirage 2000s showed up on the radar to the south.

“Four of them,” announced Cheech. “Just coming in range — they’re at 35,000 feet.”

“I don’t think they’re going to be a problem if I hurry these Osprey guys up,” said Sparks.

“Where are those Navy jets?” said Micelli. “We’re supposed to have help.”

“They have their hands full,” said Sparks.

“We don’t need no effin’ Navy,” said Cheech.

“Keep your mind on your scope,” said Sparks.

“My eyes are there. That’s what’s important,” said Cheech. Then his voice settled into a more serious, clipped tone. “Another aircraft coming off the field at Jamnagar.”

Jamnagar was a major military base on the Gulf of Kutch, less than a hundred miles south of their planned exit route.

“You have an ID?”

“Negative. Two engines — patrol type.”

“All right. Track him. Micelli, let’s get that missile site.”

They fired the Anaconda, then swung back toward the Ospreys. A fresh pair of Hornets from the Lincoln checked in, saying they were about ten minutes off. Sparks told them to concentrate on Jamnagar; he’d watch the Mirages.

“Another pack of MiGs,” added Cheech. “The Mirages are on afterburners. I have some other contacts. A hundred and fifty miles.”

“What the hell did they do, save up all their fuel just for us?” said Micelli.

“They’re bored from being grounded the last few days,” said Cheech.

“All right, we’re going to have to deal with these guys,” Sparks told them. “Who’s the biggest threat?”

“We have only three Anacondas left,” said Micelli.

“Well, you’ll just have to get a two-for-one shot,” Sparks replied. He pulled up the stick, taking the Megafortress up another 5,000 feet and aiming southward. He’d keep as much distance as possible between the Cheli and the Ospreys. Most likely the Mirage radars wouldn’t be able to see the rotor tilts after they tanked and would concentrate on him.

The Mirages were in two groups, two planes apiece. Sparks had Micelli target the lead plane in the first group, hoping that with their leader gone, the others would lose heart, or at least hesitate enough for them to get away.

“Trouble locking — IFF says it’s a civilian.”

“Override the bitch.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Override and lock.”

“I’m working on it, Sparks,” said Micelli. He finally got the lock and fired.

The ground radar operator reported a contact moving on a highway twenty-five miles ahead of the Ospreys. Sparks had Cowboy check on it.

The cacophony continued. They’d trained for encounters like this, but the real thing was twenty times as draining and as confusing as the simulations. Even his crew of wiseasses was showing the strain.

“New bogey — unidentified plane thirty miles from Angry Bear,” said Cheech. “Designated Bogey Seven.”

“Where’d that come from?” said Sparks.

“Thirty-five thousand feet — looks like it’s one of the ones that came off from Jamnagar.”

“Tell the Navy flight.”

“They’re too far away to intercept,” said the radar officer. “They’re on a pair of MiGs.”

“ID the plane.”

“Working on it. Bogey Seven is in range to fire radar missiles.”

“Missile one is terminal,” said Micelli. “Locked on the lead Mirage.”

“No ident from Bogey Seven,” reported Cheech.

“Query the mother again. Micelli — get him on the radio.”

“Roger that,” said Cheech. “Bogey Seven is twenty miles from Angry Bear. Direct intercept. Turning — looks like they’re moving to get behind them. Shit. Fifteen miles.”

“No reply,” said Micelli after trying to hail Bogey Seven.

“Micelli — lock on Bogey Seven and fire.”

“Do we have an ID?”

“Bogey Seven closing!” said Cheech.

“Flighthawk leader, leave the ground gun and get between the Ospreys and bogey.”

“He’s too far. I won’t make it.”

“Micelli — lock on the mother and fire!” Sparks hit the radio. “Angry Bear, you have a bogey coming at your tail. Get as low as you can go.”

“Can’t lock. The IFF module—”

“Shoot the damn thing in bore sight if you have to,” said Sparks. “Nail that mother now.”

“Override. Locked. Foxfire One.”

The missile shot away from the Megafortress. As it did, the missile fired at the lead Mirage hit home.

“Splash Mirage,” said Micelli, his voice drained.

“Mirages are turning away,” said Cheech.

“Anaconda is terminal.”

“Lightning Flight to Dreamland Cheli. You read us?” asked a Navy unit.

“Roger, Lightning Flight,” said Sparks.

“We’re coming for you,” said the leader of Lightning Flight, a group of four F-14s dispatched from the Lincoln. “Rest easy.”

“Screw him,” said Micelli.

“Not today,” muttered Sparks. He clicked the radio transmit button. “Stand by, Lightning Flight.”

“Splash bogey,” said Micelli. “Bogey is down. The way is clear.”

“Angry Bear, your nose is clean,” said Sparks. He told the Marine pilot about the F-14s and had him contact them. “Did we get an ID on that plane?” he asked Micelli when he was done.

“Negative.”

“Cheech?”

“It was one of the MiGs, I think.”

“All right. We’ll sort it out later. Let’s make sure these guys hook up with the Tomcats so we can home.”

Aboard Marine Osprey Angry Bear One, over northern India

0518

Danny Freah leaned over the back of the copilot’s seat, trying to get a better view of the source of the smoke as they approached.

“Got to be the gun the Flighthawk smoked,” said the copilot.

There was way too much smoke, thought Danny. He pulled down his visor and put it on maximum