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CARRIER 2: VIPER STRIKE By Keith Douglass

turned in time to see three Thais less than fifty yards away. Two of

them staggered and fell with the burst. The third turned and ran back

the way he’d come.

She looked back toward the camp. More of those heavy-looking aircraft

Bayerly had called Q-5s were climbing into the sky. Her attention was

drawn by a loud roar … not the thunder of jet engines but a

chattering, propeller sound. Something was rising above the fuel

storage tanks.

A helicopter. She recognized the distinctive shape, an American-made

Huey, probably, a relic of Vietnam.

And it was skimming low across the fuel tanks, coming directly toward

them.

CHAPTER 28

0752 hours, 21 January

Tomcat 201, near the That-Burmese border

Tombstone’s oxygen mask was slick with sweat, and he had to keep

blinking his eyes to clear them. This ACM encounter had lasted longer

than the usual dogfight already and showed no sign of letting up.

“Victor Four Delta, Eagle. Where’s Chickenhawk, over?”

“Eagle Leader, Chickenhawk is inbound at primary target, on final

approach. ETA two minutes, over. Thunderbird is five minutes behind

them.”

“Tell ’em to hurry,” Tombstone replied. “We can’t hold much longer.

“We copy, Eagle. Homeplate advises that the ground attack is under way

at U Feng. Hang tight a few more minutes, fellas.”

U Feng under attack? That wasn’t supposed to go down until after the

place was hit by the Hornets and the Intruders. Well, enough had gone

wrong already. Maybe the ground assault had gone by the board as well.

“Eagle, Victor Four Delta,” Tombstone heard on his radio. “Come in,

Eagle.”

“Eagle copies, Victor Four Delta. Go ahead.”

“We have new targets,” the Hawkeye CIC officer said. “Estimate eight to

ten bogies, low altitude, originating Mongkoi. They’re on a vector that

will take them toward Tango LZ.”

Tango LZ … the That helicopter staging area.

“Don’t see ’em, Stoney,” Dixie said. “I think we’re too low.” The

Hawkeye, circling at a much higher altitude and using ECM tricks to look

past Snow White’s jamming, was in a better position to see what was

going on over U Feng than the Tomcats, even though they were much

closer.

“Victor Four Delta, Eagle Leader. No joy on your bogies. Vector us in,

over.”

“Roger, Eagle Leader. Come to one-seven-three. That will put you on

the bogies in approximately two minutes.”

“Copy that, Victor. Wilco.”

“Watch it, Tombstone,” his RIO warned. “Check our fuel.”

“I see it, Dixie. We can go for a while yet.”

“Tombstone … fuel’s gonna be a problem! We’ve got maybe fifteen

minutes … assuming you don’t go to burner anymore!”

“I said I see it, Dix!” Tombstone put the Tomcat into a gentle roll,

searching the sky below as they inverted. The dogfight had scattered

the combatants for tens of miles in every direction. Dixie’s VDI showed

plenty of bogies but they were no longer within close combat range of

one another.

Long-range missiles like Sparrow were useless now. No one was squawking

IFF; without Identification Friend or Foe, there was no way to tell who

was friendly and who the enemy.

Dixie was right, though. They were down to one Sidewinder and one

Sparrow left, plus the 675-round drum for his Tomcat’s M61A-1 20-mm

cannon.

Ten more minutes and they’d be on bingo fuel; fifteen minutes and it

would be joker.

But the local sky was clear of MiGs, while large numbers of aircraft

were reported taking off from U Feng. If they didn’t want to fight

their way all the way back to Point Lima, it would be better to catch

the newcomers before they got organized.

“Eagle Leader to all Eagles,” he radioed. “Muster over U Feng. We’re

going to investigate those bogies.”

“Roger, Eagle Leader,” Batman said. The other VF-95 aviators checked in

one after another. Five Tomcats began closing the range toward U Feng.

0752 hours, 21 January

U Feng

Pamela watched the Huey dropping toward them, slewing sideways until she

could see the RTAF markings on the tail rotor boom, until she could see

into the open cargo hatch. There were men there, soldiers … and a

professorial-looking man with gray hair and glasses.

Hsiao.

A soldier on the cargo deck next to Hsiao raised his AK to his shoulder.

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