CARRIER 4: FLAME-OUT By Keith Douglass

formation as they rounded Cape Bremenger on the last leg of the journey south.

Soon the landings would be accomplished, and the drive on Bergen would begin.

Then this war would be over, and the new Soviet Union could take its place

again as a superpower, able to dictate terms to a weak-willed world and

restore her broken economy and political structure once and for all.

All it would take was one more success, and after the defeat of the

Americans in Iceland and in the ambush over the Norwegian Sea this last

success would be easy enough to obtain.

The Russians had kept an eye on the progress of the American carrier, of

course, tracking the ships and planes from the An-74 AEW plane over the Soyuz

battle group. The Americans had hung about at the fringe of the exclusion

zone for three days, seemingly unable to depart and unwilling to advance.

Terekhov had advocated launching a strike on the battle group early on, but

orders from Moscow had required Soyuz to concentrate on preparing the

battlefield south of the Sognefjord instead. When the Americans had started

trying to jam Soviet radar and radio signals, there had been some concern, but

the jamming effort had been clumsy at best. As long as the An-74 stayed on

the job, there was little danger of an American surprise attack even if they

were in any shape to launch one.

So one squadron of fighters at a time shared the duty of combat air

patrol over the invasion fleet with a squadron of land-based MiGs out of

Orland, while another of the carrier’s squadrons remained on standby to

protect Soyuz, just in case. The other two were currently on the flight deck,

where busy technicians were prepping them for action to support the landings

in the morning. All four had been brought up to full strength the day before

by replacements out of Murmansk and Archangel.

“Osa, Osa, this is Gnyezdo.” Glushko’s voice snapped him out of his

reverie. “You are ordered to return here at once. Repeat, return at once.”

What was the air wing commander playing at this time? Terekhov keyed in

his transmitter and gave a curt reply. “Gnyezdo, Osa. Request

clarification.”

“American aircraft have been detected approaching Soyuz. ETA now three

minutes. Your squadron is needed to reinforce the defense. The admiral has

ordered it. Comply immediately.”

Terekhov cursed under his breath. He wasn’t sure if he hoped this was

another of Glushko’s paranoid delusions or not. If it wasn’t, the Americans

would regret falling in with Terekhov’s squadron a second time.

“Acknowledged, Gnyezdo. On our way.”

Terekhov shifted uneasily in his seat and changed frequencies to report

to the other escort commander. Just when everything had looked so right …

0006 hours Zulu (0006 hours Zone)

Tomcat 203, Odin Flight

Over the Norwegian Sea

“They’re painting us six ways from Sunday, Skipper. They’ve got so much

radar coverage out there we’re likely to end up looking like a microwave

dinner.”

Coyote smiled under his mask at John-Boy’s hyperbole, but he knew how the

RIO felt. Flying exposed like this, clearly in view for the entire approach

to the target, went against every instinct he had. The fact that the Prowler

accompanying the attack was deliberately keeping its jamming selective and

largely ineffective was no comfort either. He hoped they would be able to

switch over to a more useful mode when the time came for action.

“Don’t sweat it, John-Boy. But keep your eye on that scope. If they

start shooting, I want to know about it.”

“Trust me, Skipper, you’ll know. They’ll know back on the Jeff. Maybe

back in Washington if I scream loud enough and the wind’s right.”

“Odin Leader, this is Asgard.” That was Magruder calling. He sounded

tense. Was he still reacting to the pressures on him because of his new

position, or was he worried over the fate of the Vipers? Coyote suspected

that he’d been unhappy at the thought of sending his old squadron into the

killing ground understrength, but it was the only division of responsibility

that made sense. The special operation Coyote had proposed wouldn’t take a

full Tomcat squadron … but BARCAP over the Jefferson absolutely demanded

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