Wizard Zero Four’s senior controller’s attention was called to tracks appearing on the eastern edge of his monitor.
“Wiz, check your air defence screen ‘Hound, we got lots of fast movers comin’ west. Wiz out.”
There were indeed ‘lot’s’ coming their way, four Regiments of interceptors had formed up at 30,000 feet, topped off their tanks and climbed to 40,000 feet before going to burner and heading towards Wizard Zero Four, Bloodhound One Eight and their escorts. An equal number were racing toward the other flight of JSTARS and AWAC aircraft.
The airborne control platforms turned west, calling for help whilst their escorts swung east and started looking for targets.
NATO scrambled fighters but the Red Air Force was not hanging around, they overwhelmed the escorts and carried on west, Wizard Zero Four’s operators could see that they were in serious trouble. Both of the big Boeings had been heading west in company, they now split and began emergency descents, looking for ground clutter to hide in until the cavalry arrived.
Wizards operators were gulping furiously, trying to make their ears pop with the radical pressure changes when the automated systems began discharging chaff and flares, they didn’t do that unless the aircraft were already locked up. With 10,000 feet to go before they got into a valley, an Archer missile scored on them, flying into the starboard inner and blowing the whole wing off, and Wizard Zero Four fell onto the town of Holzminden.
Il-76 transports followed in the wake of the next force to go west, this force was tasked with the deadly task of SAM suppression, and without the E-3 Sentry’s to tell them what was coming, or to guide their missiles, the NATO batteries had to fire up their own radars, and the attrition began.
Colonel General Alontov struggled with the weight of his parachutes and equipment as he hooked himself up and checked the parachute of the man in front of him. Behind him another paratrooper did the same for him, as they readied themselves for their second combat jump of the war. His Division’s task was not entirely dissimilar to their last mission, two brigades would cut the NATO supply lines at different points, whilst the third would secure the western bank of the Elbe. After Leipzig he had reorganised the Division for this mission, the green replacements all went into the third brigade, where he left a hardcore of experienced men. The survivors of Leipzig formed the first and second brigades, they had the hardest tasks, seizing Helmstedt and Braunschwieg, the toughest, where four autobahns came together. He of course would be jumping into Braunschweig, along with his Spetznaz company 21 miles from Helmstedt and 37.7 miles as the crow flies, from the bridgehead at Haldersleben.
When he had been told of this plan to cross the Elbe and Saale, he had been offered his choice of the two available divisional tasks that the soviet airborne forces had been given, and as he did not want to sacrifice a third of his men, he had chosen this one. The airborne division of 2nd Guards Shock Army would be dropping to their south, at Bernburg, Eisleben and way west into Belgium, beaters to flush SACUER into the sights of the gun line.
The brigade going to Belgium could be written off, there would be no attempt made to resupply it.
Looking out through the nearest port he saw the first flakes of snow whipping past in the turbulence.
Snow when it should be Spring! The Russian shivered inwardly, what have we brought upon ourselves?
Lt Col Reed accepted the news of his RSMs death without comment, he nodded to the signaller who had brought the sad tidings and went about the business of running the unit.
The resumption of the enemy incoming had been mainly airbursts, no doubt designed to kill any NATO troops above ground engaged in hunting down the Spetznaz troops who had infiltrated the lines. It didn’t bode well for the enemy soldiers; any that had not been in shelter bays would be unlikely to survive. Major Popham had reported that they were doing what they could for an injured enemy soldier, her wound was severe and they had given her morphine for the pain and dressed the wound with dressings from her own pockets, she wouldn’t survive long without surgery, but Pat Reed didn’t really give a damn. His soldiers were taking a battering from the artillery; he didn’t know how many were still fit to fight and wouldn’t do until the bombardment ended. At least with counter-battery fire they were giving some back, and preventing the enemy from using everything he had, all at once.
Five miles from the small town Belgian town of Petergensfeld, SACEUR received the reports of chemical weapons with a mere nod, it was to be expected that if the soviets had any stocks remaining they would use them now. His view of the situation had been severely hampered by the loss of his JSTARS and AWAC cover, and now less capable land based battlefield radars and unmanned reconnaissance vehicles were his only eyes.
He had called in the AWAC and JSTARS aircraft from Norway, Spain and the USA to replace the losses, in the air and no doubt those on the ground too.
Nearby the base a road convoy enroute to the front were diverted. The British Army part-timers of the 1st and 2nd Battalions of the Wessex Regiment, TAVR, were still moving into position and organising before attempting to retake the overrun Geilenkirchen AFB. Word of the attack had been sent by the occupants of a farm who’d telephoned the police, reporting automatic fire and large explosions.
General Allain rather suspected the attack had come from within, as much as from outside, the attackers had apparently neutralised the airbase communications totally.
Updrafts buffeted the big Il-76 transports carrying the Helmstedt force, and the snow that had begun as flurries now fell heavily, whipping across the wings and obscuring the pilot’s vision.
Nikoli Bordenko tried to ignore the pain in his arms, legs and back from standing in a half crouch to bear the weight of his equipment. He held onto the cable that ran his side of the hold with his right hand, the knuckles were white with the effort. His nose wrinkled as the man in front vomited onto the cargo deck, he knew what would happen next, the stink of bile would start a chain reaction, and indeed he was right, it became puke city shortly afterwards. One hundred and twenty five men were facing forward, toward the two side doors, hooked up to one of two cables that ran the length of the hold, and now over half were unloading the sausage and pickled cabbage stew they had eaten a couple of hours before.
Their aircraft had let down to 1000 feet five minutes before, after crossing the Elbe. So far they had received little in the way of ground fire, although the odd line of tracer flashed past coming from below, Nikoli had seen that out of the corner of his eye, through one of the few window ports in the cargo bay.
He tried to change his stance slightly to ease the ache in his limbs, but found one corner of his bulky map case, safely tucked inside his smock, dug into his armpit. The additional maps went with his new rank and position, Captain and 2i/c of the company, a job he was not entirely comfortable with because he missed his platoon and being the boss, the one who made the decisions.
The big Ilyushin transport lurched to the side and Nikoli cursed as the cable dug into his hand. Around him men lost their footing, and or, their hold on the cables and slid across the cargo deck. His first thought was that it was turbulence, but the aircraft kept up its hard left bank for a few seconds and then the nose went up and the course was reversed. Bracing himself with a foot against the side of the hold. The view gave him a good view out of the tiny port, and of the tracer flashing past horizontally, it wasn’t turbulence that was the cause of the bumpy ride, somewhere behind a fighter was trying to put rounds into them.