Steve Abbott - Devil's Gambit

“Albatross seven, I’ve got fourteen bogies in tight formation.”

“Albatross nine, we roger that. Fourteen bogies.”

“Albatross four copies fourteen bogies.

The CIC officer checked the radar screen and weighed the odds in his head. Even with four fighters on the bogies, the odds were not good, and if the bogies were hiding others by flying in close formation, they were considerably worse. He called to the air controller, “Retask those first four birds away from the missile boats.”

“Reaper one, cancel recon on the missile boats. Provide support for reaper five. New vector, three nine point two, Angel’s fifteen.” He switched to the guard channel. “All Reaper flights, bogie count is now at fourteen.”

“Reaper one, roger out.”

The AC looked over at the CIC officer. “It’s the Air Warfare Officer, sir.”

“Patch him over.”

“Kirkland here. The big boss says as long as the bogies remain in North Korean airspace, do not engage, but if those bastards step one foot over the meridian, the ROE’s are to be enforced in full. Weapons are free. Knock them out of the sky.”

“Yes, sir. I advise you launch the ready five aircraft.”

“They’re already on their way, son.”

Pelente switched comm channels. “All Reaper flights, be advised Rules of Engagement are in effect. Weapons are free over dividing meridian.”

A series of “Rogers.” Filtered through the CIC’s headset.

The F-18C pilots all moved their weapons selectors switch from safe to armed. Reapers one through four wheeled hard over on the new vector, tailpipes spouted pale orange fire as they engaged afterburners. If the North Korean Mig fighters were on a hostile mission, they would have to be intercepted a good distance from the Hawkeyes. Reaper one hoped the Migs weren’t equipped with HARM missiles. With that great big Radome on top of them, the Hawkeyes were sitting ducks.

The Eisenhower’s Air Warfare Officer did not want to lose any of his forward radar capabilities or the E2C’s valuable crew. He made the only sensible call. “All Albatross flights, fall back to position Delta. Eisenhower out.”

The CIC officer patched into the pilot’s intercom, “Did you catch that? Time to turn tail and run. Head for Delta.”

The pilot had been listening in to the radio traffic from the back seaters. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Pelente felt the deck surge and twist under his feet as the pilot wheeled the Hawkeye, Radome and all about on a course back to the safety of the Eisenhower’s ready five air protection. The drone of the engines climbed in pitch as the turboprops surged to full power.

At fifteen thousand feet, Reaper one and his three partners had a better radar position to count the number of Migs closing with the other Reaper flight. A loud buzz sounded in Reaper five’s headset. Radar guidance, damn. He snapped the fighter over and down in a barrel roll, launching chaff and flares as he went. The maneuver worked. A missile streaked overhead, passed through the expanding cloud of chaff and exploded. Not a good way to start any aerial engagement.

The fur ball erupted in earnest. Communications became crowded with voices as each pilot tried to convey vital information to his buddies.

“Three, check your six.”

“Fox one, Fox one.”

“Two, he’s going left. I’m going for the shot. Fox one, Fox one.”

“It’s a hit. Splash one bad guy.”

“Albatross four confirms that as a kill.”

“Three just took a cannon hit on the port side. No, no, he looks okay. Engaging. Fox two, Fox two.”

No bad deed should go unpunished. The North Korean Mig that had fired first streaked by Reaper five on his port side. Five fought his way through a blood-draining eight-G turn, at full afterburner, to try and keep his airspeed up and line his missile pipper on the threat box surrounding the Mig. The small carat locked on the Mig. A steady tone filled Reaper five’s headset. The Mig pilot, the warning warble of a radar lock in progress filling his ears, now found himself the hunted. The pilot tried desperately to shake Reaper five. Mottled camouflage wings jinked left and right across five’s heads-up display, but the Mig was unable to out turn his opponent. Chaff and flares spewed in a steady stream from the rear of the North Korean aircraft. It would do him no good. The latest family of Sidewinders were smart enough to ignore all but the most sophisticated counter measures. Five’s finger tightened on the firing stud.

“Five, incoming Mig your one o’clock. Watch out.”

He had no more than a second to glance up. Another Reaper jinking crazily blasted across the airspace directly in front of his plane, a North Korean Mig hot on its tail. Twin streams of 23mm cannon shells blazed from under the Mig’s green and brown nose. Reaper Five heard and felt the spent shell casings impact along the length of his Hornet’s fuselage. Struggling to maintain control, he shot through the tunnel of roiled air left in the wake of the near collision. A quick check over his left shoulder showed a descending black trail of debris that had been a man and aircraft only seconds before.

As each side fought to lock up and launch, there was no way to pause and check if fallen were friend or foe. The fight was so rapid and vicious that no parachutes had a chance of being deployed. The amount of chaff that littered the sky made any kind of radar return suspect, but five was close enough on his prey’s tail to get a solid heat lock again. The “shoot” prompt blinked on in his HUD. “Fox one, Fox one.” Another Sidewinder was sent on its fiery way.

Seconds later, it exploded just behind the jet exhaust of the Mig. The Mig’s tail disappeared in a cloud of shredded aluminum. The ailerons buckled and tore under the incredible force. With a massive explosion of black and orange, the destruction speared through the engine to the main fuel tank. There had been no time for the pilot to eject. Another black funeral pyre made its way earthward.

The fourteen vintage Mig 23s proved no match for the modern air-superiority fighters. As good as the North Korean pilots had been, the tighter turn radius of the F-18s, their better avionics and the advantage of smarter missiles decided the outcome of the battle before it had begun. When it was over, all of the enemy had been destroyed with only two of the Hornets damaged by cannon fire.

Six of the eight hornets formed a protective echelon around the two wounded birds and turned for the Eisenhower. They had just enough fuel to get them to a tanker.

Reaper one called it in, “Reaper flight reports all bogies splashed. Two of our birds damaged. Returning to Eisenhower. Will need to tank before landing. Reaper one out.”

“Roger, Reaper flight. Confirm you inbound with priority to your wounded birds. Contact Albatross four for vector to tanker. The big boss says good work. Eisenhower out.”

“Albatross four, Reaper flight vector is one seven two, one six zero kilometers, Angel’s fifteen.”

The sleek jets turned slowly onto the new heading.

Miles ahead of them, Bob Garfield the Eisenhower’s Airboss was in the middle of launching a squadron of additional F-18s to take up the now-empty BARCAP stations. The Hornets were armed with Phoenix air-to-air missiles, radar-guided missiles with over-the-horizon strike capability. The next set of Migs launched would be destroyed before they even saw their killers.

The Commander in Chief Combined Forces Korea had been notified of the altercation. American and South Korean troops along the DMZ were now on full alert. Flight on flight of F-16 and F-15 fighters had been launched from their bases at Pusan and Kadina. The North Korean move had brought the beginning moves to a whole new level of hostilities. As far as anybody knew, they might just have tripped into a war.