Olati wished she could go back to her childhood, and slap that young patriot across the face.
The FJ-21 was built in the 60s. It’s received a trickle of upgrades in the 70s, but today missiles were more or less on top and the FJ-21 was a gunfighter. A naval, gunfighter.
She ran a hand across the dull metal outer skin. ‘Practically prehistoric.’
The brass didn’t know jack shit. They probably though movies about air combat were totally realistic; with fighters crossing swords using guns and decoys or fancy maneuvers easily juking a missile.
She made another check of the flare and chaff dispensers, out of habit.
‘Damn them.’
===
“Gold 2 Leader approaching target zone now. Fifty five out. Interrogative, y’all’s inheritances tasked?”
I key the mic, feeling a halfhearted grin. “Gold 2 Lead this is Gold 2-4. Fuck yourself, over.”
“C’mon Gold 2-4, you ain’t gonna leave your husband somethin to remember you by?” Kalani. He’s a prick but the good kind.
“Gonna come back, that’s what I’ll do. And Kalani, what about you? Got anyone to even send it to?” Some chuckles.
“Gold 2-2 to Gold 2, be advised, Olati can fuck herself, ov-wait, MISSILE!”
That’s impossible. Nobody has missiles at this long of a range, everyone’s still around twenty kilometers because radar guided SAM are massive- My radar warning tone comes on.
“Shit, they’ve got me too!”
The console helpfully reminds me of my impending death. “MISSILE. MISSILE. MISSILE.”
Now the radio crackles with overlapping chatter, until Parai’s voice cuts through. “Clear comms, clear comms! Longscan this is Gold 2 Lead, where the FUCK is that coming from?!”
“Standby Gold 2 Lead… Times five bandits to your front. Fifty kilometers and closing slow.” The AWACS controller sounds pretty calm for being in the middle of a warzone.
Then again, he’s not the guy in the fight.
“Gold 2 Lead copies all, requesting Gold 1 as reinforcement! Gold 2-3 break left BREAK LEFT!”
“Roger Gold 2 Lead, tasking Gold 1. ETA, four minutes. Bandits five, forty five kilometers.”
That missile’s getting close enough. I pull into a hard bank and dive, gritting my teeth. “Gold 2-4 going defensive!”
I slap the button for countermeasures, holding it for a few seconds-
thumthumthumthumthum.
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The acceleration presses me into my seat, until suddenly the RADAR tone cuts out.
‘Thank you Tir…! Now to get back off the deck…’ I dodged the missiles but I lost a pretty hefty amount of altitude. Down to 7 countermeasure bursts too.
“-repeat, we cannot engage further! Over!”
“Longscan to Gold 2, Gold 1 is on its way. Hold on just a little longer!”
I key my mic, pulling up, watching the altitude gauge tick back-
Two tracks, then three more on RADAR, far. Thirty six kilometers to go.
"Gold 2-4, coming back up, "
“Gold 2 Lead to Gold 2-4, good to hear you, but we’re not out of it yet.”
“Longscan to Gold 2, you are thirty kilometers and closing. Missile range is twenty, but you might need to give them a little more time. Recommend release at fifteen.”
It’s only been a couple minutes. The comm channel’s suspiciously quiet. “Gold 2-4 to Gold 2 Lead, what’re our losses?”
“…2-3 and 2-5. 2-2 is damaged but says it’s superficial.”
I switch off the radio, and lean back in my seat… “…Fuck me.”
The radar warning tone comes up again. “This is 2-2, incoming missile.”
Kalani speaks up. “Hghh… Gold 2 Lead… A gunfight… or do we deal and wheel…?”
“Gold 2-2, this is Gold 2 Lead, check O2. You don’t sound too good.”
“I’m… Fine. Hhh… Just answer the question.”
“…Deal and wheel, we don’t have the numbers. Gold 2 Lead defending!”
“Gold 2-2, defending-” A bright streak speeds through behind me and explodes in the distance.
“Hhhhh… Hhhh…” The G-force presses down as I bank, and then I’m back around, flying level again.
“-day, mayday, this is… 2-2. Fighting for control pretty heavily… I think something broke in the steering. I’m… I gotta punch out.”
“Longscan copies all. Forwarding to ground elements.”
I key the mic. “Gold 2-4, Lead you there?”
Nothing. “Longscan…?”
“Gold 2 Lead was hit by a missile. No chute. Missile range reached. You can fire now and break off.”
“…ETA on Gold 1?”
“Three minutes.”
“They’ll have it.” I kick the afterburner and immediately feel the acceleration shove me into the back off my seat-
“Hgh!” 15 kilometers. 10.
Deeeeeeee- Lockon tone.
“MISSILE AWAY!” I pivot to the next one, lock and fire again.
“MISSILE AWAY!”
Without waiting for the missile warning I cycle flares and chaff, pulling up hard-
“Come on, come on. Haaaah…”
Wingover into inverted flight, look up to the ground…
“Here we are.”
Dive. Two of them are pulling up to get at me, the others are doing the same… I put the crosshair over the first plane and fire.
GRAAAAAAA- The plane vibrates slightly as tracers punch down. The Renkap plane explodes as I roll left-
-RAAAAAA- Another one explodes as I shoot past them, diving through the formation from above-
“MISSILE. MISSILE. MISSILE.” I pull up, dropping more flares and chaff-
thumthumthumthum- “Come on, come on…”
I break left and up, fighting to stay conscious as darkness claws at my vision-
“G FORCE. G FORCE. G FORCE. G FORCE. MISSILE. G FORCE. MISSILE. G FORCE.” More flares… And chaff…
shikshikshikshik. Shikshikshik. The dispensers click emptily.
“Shit-” I pull hard up, bank, and pray it’s an IR missile-
“Hrreeghh-” The… It’s getting hard… Gotta… stay awake…
And then I level out, quickly pulling back into a climb- “GAH!”
“…Gold 2-4, Gold 2-4, this is Longscan, status!”
“Fucking… Still alive. Out of chaff, missiles. 270 rounds left. ETA… ETA on Gold 1?”
The sound of my missile warning alarm, and the radio crackling. “Gold 2-4, Gold 2-4, this is Gold 1 Actual. Missile range, thirty seconds.”
“Gold 2-4 copies all, defending-”
“MISSILE. MISSILE. MISSILE. G FORCE. MISSILE. G FORCE. MISSILE.”
I see a bright streak by my cockpit-
Thump.
The master caution light comes on. “FIRE. FIRE. FIRE. ENGINE FAILURE. FIRE. ENGINE FAILURE.”
I thumb the extinguishers, knowing full well it won’t put it out like th-
BLAM!
‘Well, that’s not supposed to happen.’ The plane shakes, and then slowly begins to wing over-
“Ah, shit. Break, break, this is Gold 2-4, punching out.” I slow the roll for a moment, and yank the lever.