but there wasn’t much he could do to help Powers yet. The nearest Russians
were still almost twenty miles away, beyond the range of Coyote’s two AIM-9M
Sidewinders. His fighter was already pushing the edge of the performance
envelope. No amount of prayer, cursing, or wishful thinking would close the
range any faster.
“Tyrone’s climbing,” John-Boy reported. “He’s got two missiles on his
tail. Whoa! One’s gone! Still got one on his tail … climbing … climbing
… Second one just went off! The kid’s clear!”
“Good dodging, Tyrone!” Coyote called on the radio. “Good dodge! Now
get the hell out of there!”
There was no answer for several long seconds, then only a dull “Aye, aye”
from Powers. Grant bit his lip. The kid was finding out that a real air
battle was a lot different from shooting down a helpless Bear.
The question now was whether the strain of learning that lesson would be
too much for him.
“Fifteen miles to nearest bogie,” Nichols reported from the backseat.
“Still closing.”
“Target! Target!” That sounded like Batman, flying eyeball on the left
side. “Where’s the damned tone?” There was a pause. “Tone! I’ve got tone!
I’m taking the shot! Fox two! Fox two!”
“Look out, Batman!” Trapper Martin shouted. “You’ve got a bunch of shit
coming your way!”
“Got one!” Batman called, ignoring Martin’s warning. Excited, eager, he
sounded ready to take on all of Soviet Naval Aviation by himself. “That’s
another kill for the Batman!”
Coyote’s HUD display came alive with targeting symbols. “Two-oh-one, in
range,” he said. He banked sharply to the left, trying to line up a shot, but
with the two forces closing so fast it was hard to get a target lock.
“Two coming at us,” John-Boy warned.
Coyote nodded. Two planes, no more than dots in the distance, were
streaking toward the Tomcat, weaving from side to side, too slippery to nail
down. “I’m going to take them down the right side,” he said. “CAG, you
copy?”
“Copy,” Stramaglia’s voice answered.
The tiny dots swelled suddenly and flashed past the right side of the
fighter. In the instant he could see them clearly he identified them as Su-27
Flankers, long, lean birds with a characteristic goose-necked fuselage that
made them look like birds of prey stooping in on their victims. Then they
were gone.
Coyote heeled the Tomcat over in a tight right hand turn that stood the
fighter on its wing. In seconds he had settled in behind the second Flanker.
The Russian bucked and jinked, but Grant clung to him doggedly. “Come on, you
bastard, hold still,” he grated. “Come on …”
The lock-on tone sounded loud in his ear and Coyote’s finger tightened
… wo!” he shouted. “Fox two!”
The Sidewinder streaked from its launch rail, trailing fire and smoke.
Moments later it found its target, slamming into the Su-27’s port engine.
Flame engulfed the Flanker.
“Two-oh-one, splash one!” Coyote called.
“Just one?” Batman asked. “Hell, boy, I just got my second. Going to
guns now! This might be my chance to finally even up with old Tombstone!”
“Keep on ’em, Batman,” Coyote said, searching for the second Flanker. He
was glad to hear that Wayne was still in the fight, still sounding the same.
Batman was older and wiser than he’d been back in the Indian Ocean, but down
deep he hadn’t changed that much. Dog-fighting was like a game to him, a game
he played very, very well.
“Two o’clock, Coyote! Look to your two!” Nichols shouted.
That was the second Sukhoi, climbing fast and trying a tight turn to get
behind the Tomcat. Coyote answered with the high yo-yo, matching the
Flanker’s turn and pulling back sharply on his stick to lose airspeed and keep
from overshooting. An instant later the targeting tone sounded again and he
fired his second Sidewinder. The missile struck the Soviet plane’s left wing,
sending the Flanker spinning out of control. Coyote caught a glimpse of a
blossoming parachute. “Splash two,” he announced. “Two-oh-one, splash two.
Come on, John-Boy, find me somebody else to play with!”
0940 hours Zulu (0940 hours Zone)
Fulcrum Leader
Northwest of the Faeroe Islands
“Break left! Break left!” Terekhov screamed the order into the radio.