targets like a car negotiating a set of orange pylons on a test
track.
The Hornet, while it would have done better on the quick turns and
maneuvers required to hit the missile launcher sequentially, couldn’t
have carried enough armament to take out everything. Not that and the
command center as well.
The first target was an easy one. Tombstone didn’t even bother with
the rollover maneuver to take a visual sighting on his target, but
simply followed Tomboy’s direction in. By now, her ESM indicator was
screaming about launch indications from the farthest-away site, and
that had to be the top priority. Still, he doubted there was time to
take that one first and then come back for the others. No, they would
do them in sequence, the way they’d planned.
The first five-hundred-pound bomb hung up on launch.
Tombstone swore, dropped the Tomcat down into a hard dive, then jerked
it up. As the Tomcat pulled up violently, he toggled the launch button
again. The sudden change in force vectors shook the bomb loose from
the rack and sent it hurtling toward its intended target. The decrease
in weight increased the Tomcat’s angle of attack. The massive aircraft
stuttered for a moment, momentarily approaching stall speed, then
grabbed hard at the air for lift.
“Now, due north, Stoney,” Tomboy coached. “Longer this time. Thirty
seconds. Counting now ” Her quiet voice ticked off the moments.
This time the five-hundred-pound bomb fell smoothly away from the
Tomcat. Again, the shudder as its weight left the fuselage, the sudden
extra lift and speed he felt take the aircraft afterward.
“Fish in a barrel,” Tombstone said cheerfully. “What’s that last
vector?”
“Zero-eight-zero, the last one.” Tomboy glanced down at her ESM
indicator. “And Tombstone it might be a good idea if we hurry.”
Tombstone slammed the Tomcat into afterburner again, taking note of his
fuel status. The high-speed race in, the battle with the UAV, and
carrying a full load of heavy weapons onto target had taken their
toll.
The Tomcat was sucking down fuel like a Hornet. Much more of this, and
he’d be lucky to make it back to the boat. He switched his circuit
over to tactical. “Batman, get some gas in the air. I think I’m gonna
need it.”
“Already there, buddy.” Batman chuckled. “You think I’d forget how
you abuse the afterburner?”
“Tell him to expect me in ten mikes,” Tombstone said.
“I’m going to need to make it on the first approach.”
“Five seconds.” Tomboy’s voice sounded relieved. “Stoney, it’s the
last one. Let’s make it a good one.”
This time. Tombstone rolled over inverted for another look at the
target. Smoke and fumes were boiling away from the hole in the ground,
indicating that launch preparations were under way. There was not a
person in sight they’d all taken cover, not wanting to be exposed to the
poisonous fumes and gases generated by a launch. Even more important,
if there were an accident no one would have any chance of surviving a
misfire by a nuclear weapon on the ground.
Not that they’d survive what he was about to do if they were anywhere
in the vicinity. He rolled back into level flight, bore in for the
last five seconds, then jerked the Tomcat up sharply as he released the
final bomb. The motion of the aircraft, coupled with the weight of the
bomb, acted like a slingshot, lofting the weapon through the air and
toward the launchers.
He peeled out in a hard starboard turn, taking a quick glance back at
the bomb. It was still in the air, now descending, smack-dead on
target. He watched it go, occasionally glancing forward to make sure
his flight path was clear, and saw how deadly accurate his shot had
been.
Just as the bomb approached the launch structure, a thin, poisonous
gray spear emerged from the ground. It was traveling slowly, still
being boosted out of the silo by compressed gas in a small igniter
rocket. That would soon change as the main battery kicked in, sending
it arcing toward the mainland.
The deadly javelin was halfway out of the ground when the
five-hundred-pound bomb hit. It landed immediately next to the