Americans would be kept at arm’s length and Norway would fall soon enough.
But that was only the beginning. The strategic position and the boost in
power and prestige they would gain from this campaign would position the
Soviet Union to regain all the lost ground of the past decade and more
besides.
American “experts” had been fond of saying that they were the only
superpower now. Soon those experts would know just how wrong they had been.
CHAPTER 8
Wednesday, 11 June, 1997
0848 hours Zulu (0748 hours Zone)
Tomcat 201, Redwing Flight
South of the Faeroe Islands
“Redwing, this is Bravo Six-four. Vector right to oh-one-oh.” The voice
of the controller flying in the Hawkeye patrol aircraft sounded tense in
Coyote Grant’s headphones. “Go to buster for intercept with bogie at range
two-one-nine November Mikes your position, Angels two.”
Grant started banking right as he responded. “Bravo Six-four, Redwing
Leader. Roger that. Coming to zero-one-zero, buster. Target at
two-one-nine, Angels two.”
“Wonder what they’re sending us after,” Lieutenant John “John-Boy”
Nichols said over the ICS.
“Beats me,” Coyote replied. “Ours not to reason why …”
“Ours just to make ’em fly!” the RIO finished.
Coyote smiled under his oxygen mask. He felt comfortable with Nichols
riding the backseat, and picked him as RIO more often than not. Officially
there was no such thing as permanent assignments teaming aviators and RIOs,
but getting a well-matched pair to work together frequently paid off when
things got hot. The Vipers had learned that lesson back when Matt Magruder
was still their skipper, in the Pacific, and when he took charge of the
squadron Coyote had encouraged the practice. Just one look at the way Batman
and Malibu flew together, for instance, was proof of how teamwork could pay
off.
He wished he could be more sure of his wingman today.
“Let’s get it in gear, Koslosky,” he said over the radio channel to the
other Tomcat off his port wing. The new pilot was one of the replacements
who’d flown out with Tombstone, and he was still an unknown element in the
squadron. In fact Coyote had bumped Lieutenant Randy Martin from patrol duty
this morning just to fly with Koslosky and try to get a feel for how he’d fit
in. So far, he wasn’t happy with the nugget. “I’ve seen jumbo jets fly
tighter formation than that!
“Sorry, Skipper,” Koslosky answered, sounding flustered. The Tomcat
drifted closer, its speed increasing slightly. “Guess I wasn’t expecting
anything but a routine patrol this morning.”
“CAG’s Third Commandment, kid,” Coyote said quietly. “‘Thou shalt expect
the unexpected.’ I don’t know what they’ve been teaching you back home, but
out here a patrol isn’t just an excuse to fly the plane and sight-see. You’re
up here to respond to the unexpected. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” came the subdued reply.
“Redwing. Bravo Six-four. Be advised we have three, repeat three,
bogies bearing oh-one-oh your position. Range is now one-seven-two, speed
three-five-oh.”
“Roger, Six-four,” Coyote said. He read back the information. “Any idea
what they are?”
“Redwing, wait one,” the Hawkeye replied.
“Four to one it’s another Bear hunt,” Nichols said.
“With those stats? Of course it is. Don’t try to take money from your
CO, John-Boy. It isn’t healthy, know what I mean?”
Nichols chuckled over the ICS. “Hey, a guy’s got to supplement his
income any way he can, right, Skipper?”
“Redwing, this is Dragon’s Lair. Do you copy?” That was CAG’s voice,
patched in from Jefferson’s CIC through the orbiting Hawkeye.
“Affirmative,” Coyote replied. “Read you five by five.”
“Looks like you’ve got another Bear out of Olenegorsk, Redwing,” CAG
said. “Main question is whether all three blips are Bears, or if they’ve got
something else coming in too.”
“I read you, Dragon’s Lair,” Coyote said. He understood the edge of
concern in CAG’s voice, an echo of what he’d heard from the Hawkeye. It
wasn’t all that uncommon to send up two or three Bears in a single flight.
But those other planes could also be escorts … or they could be Badgers or
Blacjacks carrying antiship missiles depending on a Bear for targeting data.
“Get up close and personal with these jokers, Redwing,” CAG told him.