demon, a raging beast trying to tear him into pieces. Teejay … where was
Teejay? …
Coyote’s last thought was of Julie as he plunged through blackness and
flame …
0621 hours Zulu (0721 hours Zone)
CIC, U.S.S. Thomas Jefferson
The Norwegian Sea
“Tomcat Two-double-oh is hit! They’re hit!”
Tombstone’s fists clenched, the nails biting into the palms of his hands
as he listened to Trapper’s urgent call.
“Splash one MiG.” That sounded like LD, Trapper’s RIO. “Splash two,
that’s splash two MiGs.”
“Oh, God, Coyote and Teejay are down, coordinates x-ray one-five-niner,
Yankee three-one-one. I don’t see any chutes.”
Not Coyote! Damn, damn, damn!
“Camelot,” another voice was calling. “Camelot, this is Bifrost. Fisher
One-one has gone off our scope. We’ve also lost Fisher One-two and Viper
Two-four.”
Tombstone’s fist came down on the arm of his chair. Aviators, his
aviators, were falling from the sky faster than he could conjure up their
faces and names.
But there was no time to mourn, no time even to think. Dealer was almost
at the target, and Coyote and Hunter and all the rest had bought them the time
they’d needed to close. It was time for the payback on their sacrifice.
0621 hours Zulu (0721 hours Zone)
Intruder 502
Over the Norwegian Sea
Sluf had heard the call that one of the Tomcats was down, but his
attention was fully focused now on his Heads Down Display. The Kaiser AVA1
Visual Display Indicator revealed a glowing, electronic picture of the target,
tiny against a tilted horizon, painted by the Intruder’s computer. He kept
the steering pipper on the target, which his electronics had pegged as the
source of several different radar emissions.
“That’s a contact,” Spoiler said, his face buried in his radar hood.
“Solid lock … shit. Lot of fuzz. Switching to FLIR. Yup. Looks like our
carrier, all right.” The B/N had already set his ordnance panel to release
the pair of Harpoon AGMs slung beneath the Intruder’s wings. Sluf could
almost imagine feeling them down there, ticking and purring as the Intruder’s
computer fed them data on course, speed, and target.
“I think they’re finally waking up down there,” Sluf said. More missiles
were arching up from the sea ahead. Threat warnings chirped and flashed on
his console. “They’re figuring out that we might not be Tomcats or Prowlers
after all.”
“Yeah, and the fighter jocks kept their air-to-air boys off our tail,”
Spoiler said. “We’ve got the bastards. Weapons armed. Safe off. Pickle’s
hot.”
“Range ten miles. Hang on!” He keyed the tactical frequency. “This is
Dealer Leader, going in hot.”
“Roger,” a voice replied over his headset. “Dealer Two, going in
hot.””Dealer Three. We’re in. Save a piece for us.”
“Dealer Four. In and hot.”
Good. All four Intruders had made it this far, though at least one of
the F14s had been taken out. He pushed the stick over, picking up speed as
the Intruder’s nose dropped below the horizon line. The old days of Navy dive
bombers were long gone, Sluf thought, but this pounding excitement, this rush
of blood in ears and chest must have been what SBD dauntless pilots felt as
they lined up their lumbering aircraft and primitive sights on the Japanese
carriers at Midway.
“Picking up some heavy SAM fire here.” That was Scooter Van Buren’s
voice, in Dealer Three. “Shit! I got one on me!”
“Break it off, Scoot,” another voice called.
“Negative. Popping chaff. I-”
The sudden cut-off of the transmission was chilling in its abruptness.
Sluf wanted to look around to see if he could see Dealer Three–Scooter and
Rider ought to be off to the east somewhere–but he couldn’t shift his
attention from the VDI.
When he glanced up through the Intruder’s HUD, though, he could see the
Soviet carrier with his own eyes, looming on the horizon. The missiles were
much closer now, crawling across the sky with deceptive slowness. Puffs of
smoke, deceptively small, almost friendly-looking, were beginning to appear
above the horizon to the north. There was enough triple-A rising above the
Soviet ships to defend a small city.
“Hold it steady,” Spoiler warned as the Intruder bumped slightly in some
rough air. “Steady … Harpoon one away!” The Intruder thumped heavily as