Jettison his weapon, go empty-winged into the conflict ahead?
He shook his head and dismissed the option. His career, not to mention all the family he still had remaining in Russia and Ukraine, was at stake. He had no choice but to follow the mission as briefed.
Heroes come in odd shapes and sizes, a silent voice insisted.
They were passing Istanbul now, and the sight of the city shook the captain almost as much as the mine attacks had. The waterfront was still and silent. The piers were crowded with fishing vessels tied up and vacant. Not a soul moved, not even the shipfitters and fishermen that normally crowded the waterfront and piers.
Ahead, the Black Sea beckoned. To the captain, it was probably the most beautiful sight in the world?free, open water, probably devoid of minefields. Probably. The thought made him pause. Who was to say the Turks hadn’t seeded the entire Black Sea with mines. Mines were cheap, readily available, and one of the easiest defensive emplacements to deploy.
But intelligence reports had been fairly uniform. There was no indication that there were mines past the point about five hundred yards ahead. Like it or not, he would have to rely on those reports.
Five minutes later, Shiloh slipped past the breakout point. She was battered, water-logged, and clumsy in the water?but she was free.
“Flank speed,” Batman snapped. “Send a signal to Shiloh?well done and clear the area. How bad is her damage?”
“She’s still afloat, Admiral,” the TAO reported. “Barely.”
Batman nodded. “I’ll see that her captain gets so many decorations he walks with a port list. In the meantime, get us back into this fight. I’ve got aircraft overhead that need some company right about now.”
“Right full rudder.”
The captain felt the ship respond slowly, too slowly. She sluggishly veered off to the right, steadying up on a new course to clear the area. He walked onto the bridge wing to stare aft.
Behind him, the aircraft carrier plowed through the ocean like a behemoth. Huge bow waves sputtered up around her hull, an indication she was balls to the walls. The captain stuck his head back into the bridge and ordered another five knots of speed. Best to be clear of the carrier. In any conflict over who had the right of way, tonnage always counted.
“What’s our relative wind?” Batman asked.
“Spot on,” the bridge answered. “Ready to commence flight operations.”
“Make it so.”
Batman had barely finished the sentence when the overhead reverberated with the deep-throated roar of a Tomcat at full military power. During the transit through the Strait, the Air Boss and handlers had pre-staged the entire complement of the air wing, prepositioning Tomcats on the two forward catapults.
The waist cat?was it usable? Batman wondered. An extra catapult could make all the difference in the world in getting gas and air support in the air right now. He glanced up at the plat camera, and noted that the Air Boss had staged aircraft within easy reach of all three catapults.
Was it time to take the chance?
It was one thing to launch pilots into the air with weapons loads and ask them to risk their lives against incoming adversary air. Another matter entirely to have them trust their lives to questionable catapults. Besides, if they lost birds off it, that was just as effective in depleting their forces as a missile strike by an incoming raider. An aircraft loss was an aircraft loss?the cause didn’t matter.
“Just the two catapults for now,” Batman decided. “And tell the Air Boss I want to see him setting a new record in launches.”
The TAO turned to face him for a moment, his face grim. “I think you’re going to get that wish, Admiral.”
“Now who the hell are these guys?” Gator shouted. His fingers flew over the distinctively shaped control knobs for his radar, his face pressed hard against the soft plastic hood. “Bird Dog, we’ve got a ton of new bandits inbound, coming directly from the east. Looks like forty, fifty of them. Jesus!”
“One at a time, Gator,” Bird Dog said grimly. “That’s how we kill them?one at a time.”
He toggled over to tactical. “Skeeter, you holding the new bad guys?”
“Affirmative. Lead, we need to start taking this first wave out. We don’t have time or gas for ACM.”
“Agreed. Go with the Sparrow. Pick your target?here’s mine.” Bird Dog centered his targeting blip over one radar paint and pressed Enter.
“Got it.”
Bird Dog felt the aircraft shake itself like a dog coming out of a creek as the Sparrow left his wings. He shut his eyes as it left to cut down on the afterimage it would paint on his retina. When he was sure it had a solid lock and was underway, he toggled off another one. Just for good measure, he picked out another blip and dumped a Phoenix at it. It might not hit?then again, it might, considering the success they’d had so far?but at least his fuel consumption would drop with the heavy missile off the wings. Besides, it might keep the Turks on the defensive.
“Tomcat flight, help’s on the way,” the carrier announced over the open circuit. “Launching now?stand by, fellas, the cavalry’s on the way.”
Bird Dog glanced down at his fuel indicator. “They’d better be the damned Pony Express if they’re going to get here before I’m in trouble.”
Yuri craned his head back, could see the other fighters peeling off from the pack as they vectored in to engage the small cluster of American forces already beating back the Turkish marauders. He snapped his head back forward and took a quick visual scan on the sky around him. It appeared clear. No one was watching him. He reached out and toggled on the sensitive skin that covered his airframe, completely engaging the stealth capabilities.
Had they been watching, the other aircraft would have seen him waver in and then blip off their radar screens. He doubted that they were?there were too many missiles, too many bogeys in the air for a pilot or a RIO to concentrate on anything but survival.
He tipped the fighter forward and dove for the deck. As briefed, he pressed in straight toward the carrier, ignoring the smaller escort floundering in the water before it.
Forty miles away, he got a warning on his ESM gear. He scanned the sky around him, annoyed?why the hell was somebody paying any attention to him with all the ACM in the air all around?
He saw the aircraft before he could even pick it out on his radar scope. An American Hornet?the worst possible choice.
The Hornet, unlike the Tomcat, was a close match for the MiG in weight-to-thrust ratio and maneuverability. With a Hornet, Yuri would find himself more equally matched, less able to exploit the slower turning radius of a heavier aircraft.
He glanced back down at his range indicator. Still too far away from the ship to fire?although who knew exactly how critical the briefed distance from target was?
Not very, probably?not if the weapon under his wings was what he thought it was.
In a small way, the appearance of the American Hornet was a relief.
It bought him time, a few more minutes to try to answer the questions that kept nagging him about the use of tactical nuclear weapons. If they could have listened in on his thoughts, his superiors would have been appalled
