Tombstone had two AIM-59s left, and Batman had four. The Indians were launching their Exocets, and there just weren’t enough Phoenix missiles to go around.
2023 hours, 24 March 1AF Jaguar 102
The maddening tone of missile lock continued to sound in Singh’s ears as he pulled the stick to the left. He looked again. StiH nothing . . .
A pinpoint flare of light came out of nowhere, twisting in a sharp, left-hand corkscrew as it bore down on Lieutenant Colonel Nijhawan’s Jaguar from the west.
“Himmat!” Singh shouted. “Watch—”
Orange flame fireballed against the night. For an instant, the glare illuminated the front half of his friend’s aircraft and one shattered wing as the Jaguar crumpled, folding up on itself as though it were a balsa-wood model crushed by a child’s hand.
The second explosion came a pair of heartbeats later, blasting the left wing from Krait Four before the flare of the first explosion had faded away. Singh glimpsed a secondary flash as the pilot rocketed into the night on his ejection seat.
Colonel Singh had first learned fighter combat while attending a special air combat training school for foreign pilots at Frunze, in the Soviet Union. Later, he’d flown with the RAF while learning to handle the SEPECAT Jaguar. He was one of the best pilots in the IAF, but this was beginning to feel more like target practice than combat . . . with his squadron as the targets.
“All aircraft, launch and return to base!”
The missile-threat warning was off. Perhaps there had been two, and only two missiles. If they had a few more seconds . . .
ARMAGEDDON MODE
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2023 hours, 24 March Tomcat 201
“Victor Tango One-niner, this is Viper Leader,” Tombstone radioed. “We have air-to-surface launch . . . probable Exo-cet. Six ASMs …” Two more blips appeared, moving quickly behind the others. The two surviving Indian planes had released at maximum range, then turned away. “Make it eight ASMs in the air, targeting Biddle.”
“Confirmed, Viper Leader,” the Hawkeye replied. “We have them. Protect Biddle. Target priority is Exocet launch.”
Tombstone had already arrived at the same conclusion. Wings laid back along its flanks, Tombstone’s F-14 howled along an intercept course. At his instructions, Dixie had already targeted the lead of two closely spaced missiles. The Tomcat’s AWG-9 had what is known as “look-down/shoot-down” capability, meaning it could track objects below the F-14, moving only a few feet above the water. At a range of ten nautical miles, Dixie announced a target lock and stabbed the launch button. Their last Phoenix dropped clear, then ignited, rocketing into the darkness on a vivid comet tail of flame. Tombstone watched the graphics on his VDI, counting off the seconds as the AIM-54 closed the gap on the lead Exocet. Ten seconds after launch, the two blips merged. . . .
“Hit!” he called.
“Target destroyed!” Dixie confirmed. “Holy . . . Second target gone! We nailed *em, two for one!”
The twin detonation of almost five hundred pounds of high explosives on the two missiles a few feet above the water had created a terrific shock wave. The second Exocet had flown into the blast and either been torn apart or driven into the sea.
“Two-one-six, fox three!” Batman’s familiar voice sounded over Tombstone’s headset. “Don’t be greedy, Stoney. Save some for us! Fox three!”
Tombstone’s VDI was becoming a confused tangle of targeting symbols and radar returns. He felt a sinking sensation as he watched the wave of missiles crawling across the screen. “Viper Leader is dry.” With no more Phoenix missiles slung
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Keith Oouglass
under his Tomcat’s belly, there was little more he could do to halt the storm.
“Viper Two,” Batman added. “Down two. Firing two. Fox three! Fox three!”
Batman’s last two Phoenix missiles joined the clutter of radar blips. Four more incoming Exocets died.
Two Exocets remained, vaulting the last small gap to the American frigate at the speed of sound.
2024 hours, 24 March U.S.S. Btfdte
The terrifying aspect of modern naval warfare is its sheer speed. In 1805, when Admiral Nelson faced the Franco-Spanish fleet at Trafalgar, the enemy had been in sight for hours by the time they finally opened fire; Nelson could have taken the better part of an afternoon deciding on tactics or changing his plans had he wanted to.