Especially when it’s not the Air Force.”
“Especially not the Air Force,” the first RIO echoed.
Dealing with the Wild Weasel missions and anti radiation strikes by the
Air Force always proved to be a complicated matter of coordinating
communications and commands. Not that they were incompetent, mind you
just different.
“Deep dive,” the first RIO announced. “And we should see … ah,
yes.
There it is.” He toggled his ICS switch and called to the pilot.
“Lost contact on all missiles.”
“Roger.” The laconic tones from the aviator in the forward half of the
aircraft indicated what he thought of the traditional pilot disdain for
his passengers. “Can we go home now?”
“Not yet,” the RIO answered. “We still got the strike inbound, and the
egress after that. Don’t worry, that rack will be waiting for you when
we’re done.”
0451 Local (+5 GMT) Puentes Naval Base The missile streaked in over
land and began comparing the terrain with the memory of its flight path
stored in its fire control circuits. So far, a good match. It made
one, minute course correction, then descended twenty feet to continue
skimming forty feet above the gently rolling terrain.
One thousand meters from the target, it switched over to optical
guidance, relaying a picture of what it saw through the nose camera
back to the carrier. If necessary, the technician aboard the aircraft
carrier could have made another course correction but it wasn’t. This
Tomahawk knew exactly where it was going, and didn’t need any help
getting there.
Seconds later, it was over. The Tomahawk burrowed through the cement,
pausing for two seconds after impact before it jerked the final firing
circuitry. The warhead exploded into a firestorm of high explosives
inside the concrete bunker, immediately blowing out all four walls and
the roof. The contents were incinerated instantly.
Six hundred feet away, Pamela Drake screamed. Huerta clamped his hand
hard over her mouth and threw her to the ground, landing on top of
her.
Debris rained down on him, partially blocked by the overhang of the
roof they were under, but still splattering the walls above their
heads. All four SEALs and their civilian guest were flat on the
ground, heads tucked reflexively under their arms, waiting on the edge
of life and death for the firestorm and downpour of shrapnel and debris
to end.
The world went silent. Huerta shook his head, and kept his hand firmly
clamped over Drake’s mouth. Temporary deafening from being close to
ground zero was normal stuff for him, but he could count on the
civilian to panic. He could feel her lips moving beneath his hand as
she tried to scream. He clamped down tighter.
Finally, he felt her body wilt. He eased his hand off gently and spun
her around to face him. Her face was pale and beaded with sweat. She
opened her mouth, and he raised his hand warningly. She nodded and
fell silent.
Sikes flipped his hand toward the target compound. The dog had erupted
in a paroxysm of motion. Probably barking its fool head off, Sikes
figured. Not that anyone was within earshot to hearthey’d all be as
deaf as the SEALs were.
Still, best to put an end to this quickly before the acoustic shot wore
off. Garcia lifted his pistol, sighting carefully, and nailed the dog
through the skull with a nine-millimeter round. The dog dropped to the
ground instantly and lay motionless.
Sikes gave the “go ahead” signal and led the way toward the small
compound. The fence was partially torn from the nearby explosion,
providing a convenient ingress point for the team. Huerta took the
second position, his hand firmly clamped around Drake’s wrist, dragging
her along.
They were inside the compound in seconds, and Garcia put another round
into the lock on the door. He burst through the door and saw a large,
short-haired man in a green flight suit hunkered down under his rack.
He motioned sharply at the man. “SEALs,” he said, feeling the word
leave his throat but still unable to hear it except as a vibration in
his bones. He hoped the other man’s hearing was better, but doubted
it.
The pilot appeared stunned. He gazed at them blankly for a moment