Atlantis strode over to the console.
“Three, no four contacts Sir, their profile suggests they are F4 Phantoms.”
Atlantis smiled,
“Make that five contacts Sir; one appears to be flying at a lower altitude than the rest, just above the ground.”
“In an attempt to fly in below the radar perhaps?” Atlantis laughed, “They must be more desperate than we thought, do they really think they can destroy this base with five pathetic fighters.”
“Maybe they have nuclear weapons attached to them?”
The smile faded from Atlantis’s face, the fire in his eyes burned brighter. “Find out if Phantoms can be equipped with nuclear capabilities and do it now!”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Get the Swallows into the air, I want them fighters dealt with immediately.”
Ten Me 262 of the elite 10th division roared into the air and turned at speed towards the incoming threat.
The USS Edson fired all it had at the incoming fighters but they were coming in at a steep angle and the rounds seemed to just disappear into thin air. The 262’s released their plasma bombs and crippled the aft section; the destroyer was dead in the water.
An Me 262 rushed towards the USS America, Moorer stood in the control tower with his hands placed behind his back. He appeared to be the calmest man in the world. The 262 opened fire and streaks of plasma peppered the control tower.
A large explosion blew the Aryan fighter clean out of the sky; it’s wreckage cartwheeled through the waves and disintegrated in the choppy sea. Moorer saluted at the two Harriers that flew passed.
“What is the situation?” Moorer asked.
“Not good sir, all units on land are getting pushed back, they don’t think they are going to hold on for much longer than an hour but they can’t guarantee that.”
“The air force has suffered heavy losses but is pressing home the attack and the fleet here is in a hazardous position. The Harriers are doing their best but…”
The great aircraft carrier lurched to port as a blazing purple sun erupted on the runway, navy rescue helicopters disappeared. When the haze cleared a 15 foot gaping hole had been burnt into the hull.
Further rounds hit struck the USS America as three Me 262’s strafed the starboard side. The rounds burnt through the hull armor and water started to flow through. A Harrier closed in through the hail of fire and scored a direct hit with a missile shot. The Me 262 spiraled into the side of the aircraft carrier and cut a deep gash; sea water poured in.
The antiaircraft guns took out another Aryan fighter as it tried to crash into the aft deck. Moorer steadied himself on the center console as his ship lurched at an ever-increasing angle. He watched as a British destroyer took a direct hit in the aft cannons and went up in a plume of smoke.
Purple plasma rounds streaked forwards, smashing the glass in the control room. The rounds struck three naval officers and killed them instantly. One of the crewmen raced towards Moorer and pushed him to the floor but bother were struck; the smell of burning bodies drifted through the air.
The five Phantoms continued on mission, their radar screens filled with contacts. First it was four, five and then six; finally, ten contacts raced towards them.
“Time to party!” Lieutenant Luke Connery drawled in his thick Glaswegian accent. He was the best pilot in the RAF and was thus seconded to this mission. He was forty-two with bright ginger hair and green eyes.
“Roger that, looks like we are buying the first round.” Lieutenant Mason Reed said bitterly, the young pilot had graduated from pilot training top of his class and had three confirmed MiG kills from his time in Vietnam; more impressively he had one Me 262 kill as well.
“Good luck all.” Lieutenant Don Ross said, Ross had been brought up on the base at Wright Patterson and had vowed to free it.
The three Phantoms banked right and raced directly towards the incoming fighters. The cloud cover was patchy but the pilots tried to use this to their advantage. Connery’s radar operator had a lock on the lead Me 262.
Connery squeezed the trigger and the AIM-7 Sparrow flew forward, it went through the cloud cover and raced out of the other side towards the Me 262’s who were only just in range. The Sparrow hunted down its target but at the last minute the 262’s broke formation, the lead pilot dove his aircraft and spun away from the incoming missile.
The Aryan fighters split into two groups five targeted the three incoming Phantoms while the other five raced off to engage Brooklyn and his wingman Charles Powell.
“You have incoming Jnr, five of the bastards. Sorry, we can’t assist.” Connery shouted. “We have our hands full.”
Brooklyn laughed, “I’ll make sure we get you back for this.”
The radios went quiet again.
The three Phantoms stayed with each other as they came face to face with the elite fighters. The Me 262’s sped passed, two to the right and three down the left-hand side.
“keep eyes on them!” Reed shouted.
The agile fighters violet engines glowed as the jets turned in an impossibly tight area. They powered towards the three American fighters and plasma rounds started to spray in their direction.
Reed rolled to avoid the fire and then dove to gain as much speed as he could before attempting a wide turn to face the incoming enemy. The other two swiftly followed suit but the Aryan fighters had split formation with two engaging head on and the other three splitting right or left.
“Shit they know what they are doing,” Ross said.
“Ignore the ones flanking us; we need to concentrate on the ones directly in front of us. Fire Sidewinders to get them to splint and then spray them with cannon fire when they are maneuvering.” Reed ordered.
They did not have missile lock but the Phantoms fired anyway, two of the Sidewinders flew forward but Connery’s missile was a dud.
The Me 262’s did not split like Reed expect but instead fired a hail of plasma at the Sidewinders, blowing them out of the sky. They then fired three bright plasma missiles at the Phantoms.
Reed asked if his radar operator could lock onto the plasma with the Sparrow.
The response was less than sure.
“I… I can try.”
“Break, break,” Reed ordered.
Two Phantoms split but Reed continued on straight at the missiles.
“Come on,” Reed said to himself.
“I’ve got it.” The radar operator shouted in relief.
The Sparrows engines ignited and the missile flew forward, miraculously it stayed on course and struck the plasma missile head-on; both disappeared in a blinding flash.
Connery threw his aircraft into a steep turn, the plasma missile appeared to gain speed as it raced after him but at the last instant Ross’s Phantom crossed its path and the two plasma missiles collided with each other, the ensuing shockwave buffeted Ross’s fighter.
Reed smiled, “I have you now.” He said as he squeezed the trigger. Powerful rounds from the nose-mounted Gatling cannon tore through the front of the lead Aryan fighter.
The nose disintegrated and the rounds reached the pilot, the Me 262 fell from the sky with smoke and debris trailing; a few seconds later a purple fireball burst from the ground below.
Lieutenant Commander Brooklyn Jnr listened to the desperate battle with bated breath.
“Brooklyn, good luck son,” Powell said as he swung his aircraft towards the five incoming bogies.
Every instinct in Brooklyn’s body screamed at him to help his comrade but he knew he had to carry on. He pushed his plane to the limit as he tried to get as much speed out of it as possible.
Charles Powell was slightly below the Me 262’s which gave them the speed advantage, plasma rounds sprayed all around his aircraft. The air crackled with the heat.