situation. Bird Dog would be able to climb slightly and drop in behind
him, a perfect position for a Sidewinder shot.
The white-hot exhaust from the other aircraft’s engine would render any
flare deceptions virtually useless.
“Hang on. Gator, time for some airspace.” Bird Dog slammed into
afterburner again, tipped the Tomcat’s nose up, and shot almost
vertically into the sky. The maneuver decreased his speed over ground
radically, and would, he hoped, confuse the pilot below him.
As the altimeter spooled past fifteen thousand feet, he said, “Come on
in, buddy. I’ve shot down MiGs before. You won’t be my first and I
doubt you’ll be my last. If you think you’ve got what it takes, come
on up and play with the big boys.”
0511 Local (+5 GMT) USS Jefferson Tombstone ran his hand lightly over
the familiar controls of the Tomcat, marveling at how it all flashed
back to him every time he took the controls. He could hear Tomboy
murmuring to herself behind him, quietly walking through her own
preflight checklist. They were sitting on the catapult, already
affixed to the shuttle, steam pressure satisfactory, just waiting for
the signal.
“All done. Ready to launch, Stoney.” Tomboy’s voice sounded as coldly
professional as ever.
“Ready up here have been for hours.” He forced a chuckle. “That’s how
it always is, isn’t it? The husband waiting for the wife to get
ready?”
“You’re gonna pay for that one, big boy.” .
Tombstone’s retort was forestalled by approaching launch. He wiped his
control surfaces, then signaled his readiness to the plane captain. He
glanced at the Plexiglas board the man held in the air, instantly
absorbing the figures noted there. Finally, he held out a thumbs-up.
The yellow shirt came to attention, snapped off a quick salute, then
dropped to one knee and pointed dramatically forward toward the bow of
the ship. Tombstone returned the salute, dropping his hand quickly to
rest it on the throttles.
Seconds later, the seat slammed him from behind and the ejection
harness straps bit into his shoulders. He gulped down a quick breath
at the sensation, as familiar as every curve of Tomboy’s body. More
so, reallyhe’d spent more time in a Tomcat than in her.
The bow of the ship thrust forward quickly to meet him.
Fourteen seconds later, he felt that sickening drop as the aircraft
departed the carrier, that moment of sheer panic every pilot feels as
gravity fights to suck the aircraft down into the sea. One of his own
personal nightmares was a soft catapult shot where insufficient steam
power on the downstroke led to insufficient airspeed. The results were
almost always fatal, unless the pilot were quick enough to eject before
the Tomcat hit the water. And every time he launched, he was certain
it had just happened. His fingers closed around the ejection handle.
As always, however, he felt the Tomcat grab for altitude at the last
moment. The engines screamed as they fought to overcome the relentless
downward pull. Slowly, too slowly for anyone’s comfort, the aircraft
gained altitude.
One last mission, one last combat patrol, one last chance to stare the
enemy in the face and find out who was the better pilot. He hoped it
would be worth it.
0512 Local (+5 GMT) MiG 101
Santana watched as the Tomcat shot up into the air. The American
fighter had a higher thrust-to-weight ratio, as well as a higher wing
loading factor, giving it greater power than the MiG but decreasing its
turn radius. And just as he knew the capabilities of the American
fighter, so he was certain that the U.S. pilot knew exactly what his
MiG was capable of. Decades of planning and training to fight the
Soviet Union had given the Americans an enormous lead in the arcane
field of dissimilar fighter tactics.
The Cubans had been similarly diligent, drawing upon the expertise of
their Soviet masters for research and advice.
The Tomcat’s ventral side was a cold, gleaming silver in the sparse
starlight. Already the sky had started to lighten almost
imperceptibly, a foreshadowing of the dawn that would soon break. By
that time, when the sun was finally visible, only one of them would