“Blue Viper, Blue Viper, this is Victor Tango One-niner.” The Hawkeye’s call came over Tombstone’s headset as he started angling back toward the Indian Jaguars.
“Victor Tango, this is Viper Leader. Go ahead.”
“Blue Viper, you’ve got new targets entering your area. Be advised they are friendly, repeat, friendly. Over.”
“Hot damn,” Batman said. “Cavalry to the rescue!”
Tombstone glanced at his VDI. He saw the new blips . . . and apparently the MiGs had seen them as well. They were turning, making for the mainland at high speed.
Which left the Indian Jaguars, dead ahead and in the clear, range thirty miles.
2021 hours, 24 March tAF Jaguar 102
Colonel Singh checked his radio frequency. ‘ ‘Mountain, this is Krait Attack, inbound. Estimate range now sixty-five kilometers. Beginning attack run.”
He glanced left and right at the other Jaguars in his flight, faintly visible on either side of his aircraft as they skimmed the black ocean toward the southwest. The Exocet missiles they carried were just within range of the target now clearly painted on his radar screen, dead ahead.
88 Keith Douglass
“Krah Leader to all Kraits,” he said over the tactical frequency. “Initiate targeting procedure. Gyros up now.” They would launch in thirty seconds.
2020 hours, 24 March Tomcat 201
“Victor Tango, this is Blue Viper,” Tombstone said. “We’ve got four Alpha bandits lined up in our sights. Commencing Phoenix run.”
“We copy, Viper Leader,” the Hawkeye tactical officer replied. “Message from Homeplate. Green light. You’re go for missile release.”
“About damned time,” Tombstone muttered. He didn’t even stop to think whether the missile-release order referred to the attack planes ahead or his earlier request to fire on the Indian MJGs.
Time enough to sort that out later. “Copy that, Victor Tango.” Tombstone reached out and flipped a switch on his console. “Master arming switch on.” He opened the ICS. “Dixie? How about a solution on those bogies.”
“Got it, Tombstone. We’ve got four targets, range now three-oh nautical miles. On track-and-scan. Acquisition. AWG-9 locked in. We’re hot.”
“Phoenix armed and hot,” he confirmed. He flipped the target-designate switch with his left hand, watching the computer-generated graphics on his Vertical Display Indicator. “Okay, Dixie. Punch it!”
“Fox three!” Dixie announced. The Tomcat bumped as the heavy missile cleared and ignited. “Missile away!”
“Line up another one, Dixie.”
“Set! Acquisition! Locked and hot!”
“Punch it!”
“Fox three! Fox three!” The second Phoenix roared into the night.
ARMAGEDDON MODE
2120 hours, 24 March tAF Jaguar 102
“Krait Attack, Krait Attack, this is Mountain! Be advised we have small, high-speed targets, bearing two-seven-three your position on intercept course.”
Singh searched the sky through his cockpit. He could see nothing around his aircraft but stars partly blocked by a line of clouds behind him and the acquisition lights of the other Jaguars of his flight.
“Mountain, Krait Attack Leader. I don’t see—”
Suddenly, a warning tone sounded in his headset. “Mountain, this is Krait Leader! We have missile-lock warning! Repeat, missile-lock warning. Someone is tracking us!”
“Krait Attack, we read two long-range air-to-air missiles. Range one-zero! Evade! Evade!”
“Krait Right!” Singh snapped. “Do not evade! Maintain course . . . fire!”
He thumbed the release switch. There was a two-second pause. Then his Jaguar leapt skyward. Exocet weighed 660 kilos—well over 1,400 pounds—and he had his hands full for a moment battling to control his aircraft as the weapon dropped clear.
The missile’s engine kicked in as its autopilot brought it down to an altitude of fifteen meters above the wave tops. Cruise speed was just under Mach 1.
At that speed it would reach its target in a little less than three minutes.
2120 hours, 24 March Tomcat 201
“Batman!” Tombstone called. “Get in the game!” The VDI showed the other Tomcat five miles to the west.
“We’re in! Looks like the bad guy CAP decided to get out of
Dodge!”
“Rog.” Tombstone said. “Let’s splash these attack planes
before they—”
90
Keith Dougtew
“Tombstone!” Dixie interrupted. “Targets scattering. I read six … no, ten bogies! Ten bogies!”
‘ ‘Shit!” His VDI was set to repeat the tactical data from his RIO’s screen. He could see the closed-grouped radar targets separating now, just beyond the computer graphic representations of the two Phoenix missiles already on the way. The bandits were launching on the Biddle.