ARMAGEDDON HOOE
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been made available for export from France or Britain, and the missile had not been in production since die late seventies. India’s recent and urgent arms buildup, however, had led to ; jwcret negotiations with France, and a limited number of \AS.37s had been made available to India for “trials” with die HAL-production version of the SEPECAT Jaguar. >l The name Martel was derived from Missile Anti-Radar ion. Where the AJ. 168 version of the Martel used by was guided by a television transmitter mounted in a Ulimt, glass nose, die French AS.37 was strictly radar-homing. As approached die target, Singh dialed through a series of searching for die particular band used by the Amer-M radar. When he heard die distinctive tone, he punched phc buttons that locked the signal down in die missile’s memory. fNow, no matter how fast or frequently the hostile radar changed iguencies, so long as it remained within the same preset band, Martel would track it
Operating from a low-altitude launch, the Martel had a range |»f Ifcirty kilometers, a little more than eighteen and a half miles, to the data from die 11-38, Singh was now well :. Obviously, the closer he could get before release, more likely the possibility of a hit He could hear the radio of the other Indian pilots in the sky around him as they ked the American ships. Dozens of aircraft had been already, and missile after missile had been destroyed they could strike their targets, shot down either by the antiair missiles or, in the last seconds of their by the deadly breath of their guardian CIWS
during the past hour, Jamall Rajiv Singh had to acquire an almost passive fatalism about this about his chances for success . . . and for survival, terror had faded as his comrades on either side had away, targeted by enemy missiles, shot down by enemy
t, nothing remained beyond sea and sky, his aircraft and ^toad it carried. The enemy he had feared had been reduced &e miles and die continuing violence around him to an
the target . . . now twenty kilometers ahead. With an icy calm he’d never realized he possessed, Singh die radar-homing ship-killer for launch.
CHAPTER 25
I hows, 26 March :216
closed to within fifty yards of die Sukhoi Su-7BM, : enough to see the Indian flag and tail numbers painted on curiously bright orange tail. The rest of the aircraft was a blue-gray with camouflage dark olive blotches. A pair of
logram GP bombs was slung from die wings. The Sukhoi Finer was weaving back and forth, trying to lose i relendess pursuer. Batman held tight on the Fitter’s six. The plane broke left, trying to snap free of the Tomcat, found himself looking into the Fitter’s cockpit. He see die other pilot, his helmet turned to watch Batman’s ach.
^Batman squeezed die trigger and the Tomcat shuddered. • rounds snapped across die Fitter’s nose, missing by feet, walked back into die aircraft’s blunt nose intake with its ive pointed shock cone. Holes appeared in die
And men Batman’s cannon clicked empty. The ARM ly on his HUD guns discrete was off, and the number of
left now showed 000. |fe;lfe pulled back on die stick and cleared die slow-turning
•7 by yards.
‘*He’s still turning, Batman!” Malibu called. “Still turning. ftenk he’s headed back to India!”
**Good diing,” Batman replied. He dropped die Tomcat’s wing, banking to starboard and away from die Su-7.’ ‘We i*t tell him our gun just went dry.”
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“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. I think we’d better start thinking about setting down and rearming.”
“Yeah,” Malibu said. “If we still have anyplace left to set down on.”
“What’s the word from the bird farm?”
“Under attack. The Indies are hitting the Je/f with everything they’ve got.”
Batman swallowed the fear rising in his throat. They’d thrown everything at the Indians, and still they were coming!
Batman pulled the stick over, heading back toward the heart of the fleet. “Let’s get back there and see what we can do, Mal,” he said.
“What do you have in mind, dude?” Malibu said quietly. “Ramming them?”
“If we have to.”