realized that the last screaming dive after the MIG had taken him
down'to an altitude of five thousand, he was over enemy territory and
too low, much too low.
Expending precious fuel he came around on a westerly heading and went to
interception speed, climbing swiftly out of range of flak and searching
the heavens about him for sign of either Joe or the other MIGs, although
he guessed that the Syrians were either with Allah in the garden of the
Houris, or back home with mother by this time. Bright Lance Two, this
is leader. Do you read me? 'Leader, this is Two, Joe's voice answered
him immediately. have you visual. In the name of God, get out of
there! What is my position? We are fifty miles within Syrian
territory, our course for base is 2 5 O How did you go? I took out one
of mine. The other one ran for it, after that I was too busy keeping an
eye on you David blinked his eyes and was surprised to find that sweat
was pouring down his forehead from under his helmet and his mask was
stick and sticky with blood from his nose-bleed. His arms and shoulders
still ached, and he felt drLmken and light-headed from the effects of
gravity and combat and his hands on the control column were shaky and
weak.
I got two he said, two of the swines, one for Debra, and one for Hannah.
Shut up, Davey, Joe's voice was stiff with tension. Concentrate on
getting out of here. You are within range of both flak and ground
missiles. Light your tail - and let's go.
Negative, David answered him. I'm low on fuel.
Where are you?
Six o'clock high at 25, 000. 'As he answered, Joe sat up in his seat,
leaning forward against his shoulder straps to watch the tiny wedge
shape of David's machine far below. it was climbing slowly up to meet
him, slowly too slowly, and low, too low. David was vulnerable and Joe
was afraid for him, frowning heavily into his face mask and searching
restlessly, sweeping heaven and earth for the first hint of danger. Two
minutes would see them clear, but they would be two long, slow minutes.
He almost missed the first missile. The ground crew must have allowed
David to overfly their launch pad before they put it up in pursuit, for
Joe picked up its vapour trail as it streaked in from behind David,
closing rapidly with him.
Missile, break left, Joe yelled into his mask. Go! Go!
Go! and he saw David begin his turn instantly, steeply, side-stepping
the sizzling attack of the missile.
It's lost you! Joe called, as the missile continued its crazy career
through space, beginning to yaw from side to side as it hunted for a
target and at last bursting in self -destruction.
Keep going, Davey, Joe encouraged him, but keep awake, there will be
more. They both saw the next one leave the ground from its camouflaged
vehicle. There was a nest of them on a rocky ridge above a sun-blasted
plain. The Serpent slid off the rock and lifted into the sky, climbing
rapidly towards David's little machine.
Light your tail, Joe told him, and wait for it! He watched the missile
boring in, converging with dazzling speed on David's Mirage.
Break right! Go! Go! Go! Joe yelled and David twisted violently
aside. Again the Serpent slid past him, over-shooting, but this time
not losing contact and coming around to attack again, its seekers locked
to David's machine.
He's still on you, Joe was screaming now. Go for the sun, Davey. Try
for the sun, and the Mirage pointed its nose at the great blazing orb
that burned above the mountain ranges of dark cloud. The Serpent
followed him upwards, hunting him with the dreadful singlemindedness of
the automaton. He's on to you, Davey. Flip out now! Go! Go! Go!
David flicked the Mirage out of her vertical climb, and fell like a
stone, while the Serpent fastened its attention upon the vast infra-red
output from the sun and streaked on towards it, losing the Mirage.
You've lost it. Get out, Davey, get out! Joe pleaded with him, but for
the moment the Mirage was helpless.
In her desperate climb for the sun she had lost manoeuvring speed and
was wallowing clumsily now. It would be many seconds before she became
agile and lithe once more, and by then it would be too late, for Joe saw
the third missile become airborne and dart upwards on its feather of
flame and smoke aiming at David's Mirage.
Joe did not consciously realise what he was going to do until he had
winged over and commenced his dive under full power. He came down with
his mach meter indicating twice the speed of sound, and he levelled
across David's tail, cutting obliquely across his track under the nose
of the oncoming Serpent.
The Serpent saw him with its little cyclops radar eye, and it sensed the
heat of his exhausts, fresher, more tantalizing than David's, and it
accepted him as an alternative target and swung away after him, leaving
David to fly on unscathed.
David saw Joe's aircraft flash past his wing-tip at searing speed, and
but an instant behind him followed the Serpent. It took him only a
second to realize that Joe had deliberately pulled the missile off him,
had accepted the attack that must surely have destroyed David.
He watched with fascinated horror as Joe pulled out Of his dive, and
used his speed to climb into the sun.
The missile followed him smoothly, angling upwards, overhauling Joe's
Mirage with effortless ease. Joe was watching the missile in his
mirror, and at the last instant he flipped out of the climb, but this
time the Serpent was not deceived; as Joe dropped so it swivelled also,
and as earlier David had wallowed helplessly now Joe was in the same
predicament. He had taken his chance and it had not worked for him. The
missile found him, and in a brusque burst of flame, Joe and his Mirage
died together.
David flew on alone, his Mirage once more at manoeuvring speed and his
throat dry with horror and fear and grief. He found himself talking
aloud.
Joe, no, Joe. Oh God no! You shouldn't have done it. Ahead of him
through the gaps in the massive cloud bases he saw the Jordan.
It should be you that's going home, Joe, he said. It should be you,
Joe, and felt the hard ball of sorrow in his throat.
But the instinct of survival was still strong and David yawned and
glanced back to clear his blind spot, and he saw the last missile coming
in on him. It was just a small black speck far behind, with a little
frill of dark smoke around it, but it was watching him hungrily with its
wicked little eye.
As he saw it, he knew beyond doubt that this one was his, the one that
the fates had reserved for him. The attacks he had evaded so far had
worn his nerves and strained his judgement, he felt a sense of
fatalistic dismay as he watched the attacking missile gaining on him,
nevertheless he gathered his scattered reserves for one more supreme
effort.
His eyes narrowed to slits, the sweat sliding down his face and
drenching his mask, his left hand holding the throttle fully open and
his right gripping the control column with the strength of despair, he
judged his moment.
The missile was almost upon him and he screamed with all his might and
hurled the Mirage into the turn, but he had misjudged it by the smallest
part of a second.
As he turned away the missile slid past him and it was close enough to
pick up the shadow of the Mirage in the photo-electric eye of its fusing
device. The eye winked at him and the missile exploded.
The Mirage was in the critical attitude of its turn, and the cockpit