train of thought. He gave a wolfish grin. “Down there’s the deep blue sea.
We’re the devil. I wouldn’t want to be in that Russkie’s shoes right now!”
0930 hours Zulu (0930 hours Zone)
Backfire 101, Strike Mission Buriivyy
Northwest of the Faeroe Islands
Captain First Rank Porfiri Grigorevich Margelov pushed the throttles
forward and listened to the roar of the twin Kuznetsov NK-144 turbofan engines
with a tiny smile of satisfaction. The Tu-22M’s variable-geometry wings slid
further back as the bomber gathered speed. He pulled back on the steering
yoke, and the bomber angled upward, clawing for altitude.
“Missile launch! Missile launch!” the copilot shouted in warning.
“American air-to-air missiles … AIM-54 type … Reading eight … ten …
twelve!”
“Range?” Margelov asked sharply.
“One hundred fifty kilometers.”
Margelov frowned. The American Phoenix was a lethal weapon, capable of
striking at targets far from their launch platforms. But it was a mixed
blessing for the Americans to be able to open fire from such a long range.
The bombers of Strike Mission Burlivyy–Tempestuous–would have plenty of time
to react to the launch and get off their own missiles … and the Americans
would face a significant time lag before they could engage at closer range
with more conventional air-to-air missiles. The Phoenixes might cause heavy
damage to the Tu-22Ms, but they weren’t going to stop the attack.
“Range to target?” he asked.
The weapons officer responded quickly. “Four-two-five kilometers,
Comrade Captain.”
That put them within range of the American base in Iceland, but only
barely. They could afford to wait a few minutes longer.
Margelov switched his radio to the strike mission tactical frequency.
“Burlivyy Leader to all aircraft. Prepare for missile launch on my signal.”
The other bombers acknowledged the signal in rigid order as the bombers
gained speed and altitude. The copilot called off the range of the
approaching Phoenixes in a voice edged with worry. The reputation of the
American missiles was enough to shake even the steadiest hand.
“Range six-zero kilometers, closing. Fourteen missiles.”
Over the radio Margelov heard a low-voiced exclamation. “Bojemoi!
Picking up another missile launch from American aircraft!”
“Confirmed! Confirmed!” someone else added. “Six missiles incoming …
nine … twelve …”
“I have them on our screens,” the copilot agreed. “It looks like two
waves of fourteen missiles each. Enough to take all of our planes out of
action.”
“Relax, Mikhail Mikhailovich,” Margelov said quietly. “The Americans
have good weapons, but they are not infallible.” He checked his altitude and
activated the radio again. “Burlivyy Leader to all strike aircraft. Commence
missile launches … now!”
He listened to the babble of acknowledgments as the Tu-22M shuddered with
the release of one of the two AS-4 air-to-surface missiles. The Badger strike
on Keflavik had concentrated on crippling the air defense systems of the base,
especially radar installations. This wave of missiles would be directed at
more general targets, while each of the missile-equipped Tu-22Ms would hold
back one AS-4 to use at closer range … if they could run the gauntlet of the
American Phoenixes and whatever aircraft had survived the first attacks over
Iceland.
Even more important than delivering another wave of missiles, though, was
the protection of the four Tu-22M bombers armed with BETAB antirunway loads.
Those were conventional iron bombs slung on racks mounted under the air
intakes on each wing. Those weapons would complete the destruction of
Keflavik as a functional air base.
Getting those four planes over the target was the crucial thing now,
Margelov thought. He reached for the radio, switching channels. “Svirepyy
Leader, this is Burlivy Leader. Commence Operation Kutuzov. Repeating,
Commence Operation Kutuzov.”
Margelov smiled grimly. It was time the complacent American attitude
with regard to their naval air superiority was shattered once and for all.
And Operation Kutuzov was designed to do exactly that.
They would soon be entirely too busy to interfere with the bombers.
0931 hours Zulu (0931 hours Zone)
Fulcrum Lead, Escort Mission Svirepyy
Northwest of the Faeroe Islands
“Burlivyy Leader, Svirepyy Leader,” Captain Second Rank Sergei Sergeivich
Terekhov responded to the call from the Backfire flight. “Orders
acknowledged. Commencing breakaway maneuver … now!”
He banked sharply to the left to get the MiG-29D clear of the bombers and