“Three miles!” Annie transmitted, almost protesting. So close!
Macho put the bogey in her HUD field of view and saw a speck against the green background of Venezuela. Just then Macho saw a missile plume shoot out ahead of the “dot” in the target designator box. Horrified, she keyed the mike.
“Smoke in the air! Annie, break left! Chaff flares!”
Macho pulled the trigger, hard. With AMRAAM selected, she waited for the launch sequence to begin, and, for a moment, she wondered if the missile was hung on the fuselage station. Then the missile shot ahead with a rumbling VROOOMMM that she heard in the cockpit. Macho was mesmerized as she watched the white plume billow in a graceful arc up and then down as the fiery rocket accelerated ahead of her at twice the speed of sound.
“Fox three. Annie, break now!”
Everyone seemed to be talking on the radio at once, but Macho’s frenzied comms got through Annie’s end-game concentration. Annie rolled and pulled inverted, spitting out expendables, her data link momentarily losing the SLAM-ER — which was now seconds from impact.
Above her, Macho pulled hard left and picked up the enemy missile trying to follow Annie. Macho could now identify the bandit as an F-16 Viper. She saw it break hard right to avoid the AMRAAM missile she had fired at it.
The missile’s warhead exploded just behind the Venezuelan, and, for a moment, Macho thought the Viper had survived. Then a flame burst from the empennage, and black smoke poured from the tail as the fighter continued in controlled flight to the east. The enemy missile tracking Annie had burned out. It seemed Annie’s last-ditch defense and flares had caused it to drop lock or to lose the energy needed to catch her.
In her defensive maneuver, Annie had reacquired the target on her data link display and, with seconds to spare, slewed the SLAM-ER into the air-surface missile launcher and guided it in. She did not know if her missile had destroyed the target. No time to worry about that. Blade keyed the mike.
“Lumber two-two, time out on the western launcher. Egressing north. Visual on one and two.”
As the Firebird division of Lumbers egressed north, Macho jinked into the burning F-16 to put it in the HUD field of view. Evidence. She then reversed back and overbanked down to join Annie and the others, all hightailing it to the get-well point. Lumber three-four was doing the same, and Annie hoped at least three of the four targets were destroyed. Just then she heard a cry.
“I’m hit! Whisk one-two is hit!”
Annie snapped her head left and saw a speck of flame trailing black smoke about ten miles away and north of the city. It appeared the jet was feet wet in a slow turn to north.
“Get it out to sea!” Whisk lead commanded, but it was no use. The stricken Rhino seemed to corkscrew, and soon a wingman sang out with a welcome report. “Good chute! Whisk one-two is down approx 10 miles north of the harbor!” The Americans could see the blinking lights of numerous AAA batteries along the coast, their black puffs hanging in the air above Caracas. They also saw the plumes of a few unguided SAMs hoping for a lucky shot against the Yankee fighters.
Annie swung into action. “Whisk, mark the posit. Keep him in sight. Say state.”
“Whisk, low-state eight point five!”
Roger, Whisk. Lumber two-zero assuming on-scene command. Jelly, what is your playtime?”
The suppression element lead replied with a 9.3, which equated to roughly 40 minutes until they would have to depart for the tanker. Not enough time, but Annie was going to buy them more.
At forty miles north of the coast, Annie slowed to max-endurance airspeed and assessed the situation. The Whisks were standing off and trying to monitor the survivor as best they could. The Jelly EA-18Gs were also orbiting away from the threat. Condor was reporting the FAV back on their CAP points and not a threat to the Americans.
The CSAR helo on the LCS off Grenada was over an hour away, and all the fighters would be out of fuel by then. They needed gas in the air, and they needed it now! Annie took charge.
“Condor, this is Broadsword lead in Firebird three-zero-two. Whisk one-two is down, Bullseye three-four zero at forty-five, good chute, Whisks monitoring. Get Mother to launch the alert CSAR, and we need gas down here now. Send the mission tankers you have our way and have them launch the alert Texaco.”
With Mother over 300 miles away, Annie had to lead the SAR effort and delegate/direct who stood the watch over the survivor and who got gas. There was not enough airborne gas for all the fighters at one time, and Annie formulated a plan.
“Blade, you and Killer RTB. Make a report to Strike and, once on deck, debrief CAG. Macho and I are going to get some gas and conduct a RESCORT of the CSAR helo.”
“Roger, Annie. Wilco.” Annie could detect the disappointment in Blade’s voice, but there was only so much gas available.
She directed one Jelly element — a Growler and two Rhinos; a section of Lumber three-four; and one of the Whisk wingmen to come with her in search of the fuel en route to them from over 100 miles away. They would have to join on the tankers, sort what was available and who would get it, and leave enough for those remaining on station near the downed pilot. She sensed she had too many airplanes and not enough gas. She directed the other section of SLAM-ER Super Hornets to stay on scene with the Whisks as long as they could and to go back to the ship when they reached a RTB fuel state.
As Macho flew formation on her wing at 20,000 feet, Annie set her power to max-range cruise and hit altitude hold. Head down in the cockpit, she flipped over her kneeboard card and jotted down what she had and what she needed. The downed pilot was a nugget they called Lemur; Annie didn’t know much else about him. She had two Whisks nearby, and, while she took the rest with her to refuel, she also had a Growler and four Rhinos that would remain on station
Coming down from the north were two tankers, 105 and 401, with six and four thousand pounds of “give,” respectively. She had 10K to split between herself and Macho, the other Growler and escorting Super Hornets, one Whisk FA-18E, and two more Lumbers flying two-seat Rhinos. The ship was launching an alert tanker that could give another 10K when it arrived, in about 30 minutes, at best. She conducted a roll call and got everyone’s fuel state. At the moment, she was leading eight jets to find fuel and leaving six on station in the vicinity of Whisk one-two. Their task was to monitor and suppress any Venezuelan effort to capture Lemur who was now floating in his raft about 15 miles off the coast and talking on his survival radio. Those six jets would need fuel in approximately 30 minutes, and Annie needed her gaggle to expeditiously tank and get back down there to relieve them.