CARRIER 4: FLAME-OUT By Keith Douglass

it was enough to rattle the Soviet flyer, who banked his plane right and down

in an effort to turn the tables on Coyote.

Grant turned into the enemy attack and tried his guns again, but though

his burst stitched across one wing the Russian dropped out of the line of

fire, trailing smoke from the damaged wing but still in action. Coyote

cursed.

Then the shriek of a radar warning filled his ears, and he cursed louder

as he twisted the plane to the left, trying to break the radar lock.

“It’s no good!” the RIO yelled. “He’s still got us!”

Pulling back on the joystick, Coyote clawed for altitude.

“Missile launch! Missile launch!” John-Boy reported.

“Chaff!” Coyote ordered, cutting power and rolling sideways into a steep

dive now. The chaff dispenser chattered twice as the RIO popped a pair of

antiradar decoys.

“Watch your six! Watch your six!” That was Sheridan’s voice. “You’ve

got a bandit on your tail, Coyote!”

“Missile’s still coming,” John-Boy added.

“Chaff again!” Coyote snapped, weaving from side to side.

A moment later the missile exploded behind and below the Tomcat. Coyote

fought the controls as the shock wave slammed into the plane, but managed to

keep it steady.

Then cannon rounds were slamming into the Tomcat’s undercarriage, making

the F-14 buck like a wild mustang. He jerked the stick hard over, but the

Russian pilot kept with him.

“Batman!” he shouted. “Big D! Somebody give me an assist!” Even as he

spoke he knew neither one could get there in time.

But then, incredibly, a Sidewinder smashed into the middle of the MiG,

breaking the plane in two. Coyote looked around, trying to find the source of

the fire. Had the Hornets made it? Where were they?

“Tomcat Two-one-one, reporting for duty!” a young, ragged voice called

out. It was Powers, late but finally in the battle.

“All right Tyrone!” Batman said. “A kill for the kid!”

“I’ve got another one,” Powers announced. “Come on … come on … Tone!

I’ve got tone! I’m taking my shot! Fox two! Fox two!”

“John-Boy, you okay back there?” Coyote asked over the ICS.

“Yeah … just shook up,” the RIO replied. “But my panel looks like a

Christmas tree. That sucker really nailed us.”

“Coyote … hey, man, you look like shit,” Batman broke in. “Get the

hell clear if you can. We’ll hold ’em here.”

“Not much point in that,” Coyote countered. “If I try to break away you

know they’ll be all over me. Might as well stick it out here as long as this

turkey’ll hold together.”

He didn’t add that none of them had much time left in any event. He

didn’t have to remind any of them of that.

0950 hours Zulu (0950 hours Zone)

Fulcrum Leader

Northwest of the Faeroe Islands

Terekhov switched his selector switch from missiles to guns. With his

last radar-homer expended, he was reduced to the same condition as the

surviving Americans. It seemed like these Americans just didn’t know when

they were beaten. Each time he thought they could do no more, they managed to

pull off another surprise. The return of the Tomcat that had fled at the very

start of the battle had been completely unexpected … and another MiG had

been lost as a result. The second American Sidewinder hadn’t found its

target, luckily, but the kill ratio was still far out of proportion to what

the Russians had gained today.

And the clock was ticking. The longer he spent here, the more likely

Glushko would be to accuse him of disobedience in not going after the new wave

of Americans. Shaking his head, Terekhov knew they couldn’t keep up this

fighting much longer.

“Comrade Captain! Comrade Captain!” That was Oganov, his voice panicky.

“Radar lock! An American plane has radar lock on me!”

“Impossible!” he snapped. Or was it? Nothing the Americans did would

surprise him any more.

He glanced at his radar screen and cursed aloud. The American

reinforcements were just coming into range for their radar-homing Sparrow

missiles. So much for Glushko’s conviction that they were strike aircraft

armed for an attack on Soyuz.

“All planes, all planes, disengage now!” he shouted. “Return to base!

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *