As the remnant of the Chinese vessel wallowed on light seas, frenzied controllers were still unsuccessful in vectoring Bai on the Americans coming up from the southeast. Bai was ready to start over when Wu sang out.
“There they are!”
CHAPTER 61
With the heel of his hand Wilson bumped the throttles forward, and he checked right ten degrees. Breeder maintained position on Wilson’s left, and, to his right, Hutch and Tails rolled away to match Wilson’s new course. This was the final run-in, and, behind him, the other formations also accelerated once they crossed the same longitude. Ten minutes to go.
Once steady, Wilson checked the sun position. Seven o’clock and ten degrees up… as planned. His link showed the Les Aspin strikers far to the west and on time. Stand-off weapons from them and the bombers would be impacting Blood Moon, Song Ca and Yawu in seconds. To the south he noted a lone service vessel, on the horizon and not moving. He made a mental note to avoid it on the egress.
“Snake three-three, two bandits, three o’clock, five miles. Hot!”
Wilson whipped his head right, over his shoulder, to see. Snake-33 was five miles behind. How did they — and the E-2—miss them? Regardless, this was a threat that had to be honored.
“Snake three-three engaging! Two Flankers! I’ve got the trailer!”
The action behind him, Wilson, with the Snake-21 division in trail, continued for Blood Moon. If Snake-33 dispatched the bandits with a minimum of effort, they could proceed to their assigned targets; Wilson needed their SLAMs to mop up. Ahead, Wilson saw black smoke on the horizon, and, on his radar display, a contact over the target. He bump-locked it, and, on his helmet display, he focused inside the targeting diamond. If something were inside it, he was still too far to see it. Two AADM birds behind him veered away and lofted their missiles at Song Ca before rejoining the train toward the atoll, a beacon of smoke now rising above it.
Multiple palls of black smoke were visible on Blood Moon, and faint AAA puffs dotted the sky above. As its low skyline of buildings emerged from the sea, Wilson saw two flashes on the atoll.
Ahead a small trawler came into view. With no time, Wilson radioed the others. “Snake one-one, trawler on my nose!” Hutch and Tails pulled away as Wilson and Breeder turned the opposite direction, giving it plenty of room… and putting themselves out of position.
Bai saw the American jets, what looked like a whole squadron of Super Hornets. He slammed his throttles to afterburner and glanced at Wu. Just then, a missile plume arced up at them, and Bai broke hard toward the surface as he spit out flares.
Snake-33 had seen Wu’s J-11 and shot a Sidewinder at it — just as Wu fired a heat-seeking PL-9 at the American. Both missiles passed each other supersonic, and each targeted fighter could not escape the forward-quarter shots. The Chinese missile arrived first, and the blast-frag warhead went off just above the cockpit. The Rhino crew had no chance, and the flaming wreckage of Snake-33 corkscrewed into the sea.
Before Wu saw the result of his shot, he picked up the missile coming for him and, on brainstem instinct, pulled everything he had, overstressing the jet. The moment he let off the g, the missile hit in the tunnel area between the engines, engulfing the empennage of the J-11 in bright yellow flame. During the second Wu took to realize what had occurred to his Flanker, a massive fuel-air explosion turned his fighter into pieces of flaming metal spray. Like the Americans, Wu was killed instantly.
Snake-34 sounded the alarm. “Snake-three-three is hit!”
Wilson grabbed the canopy bow towel rack and twisted himself to see what happened. Craning his neck, he saw two black arcs behind him. He turned around and continued toward Blood Moon, now inside 10 miles. He needed the SLAM Snake-34 was carrying, and, even if Snake-33 ejected, they could not run a CSAR here, hundreds of miles from help and within visual distance of Blood Moon. Wilson knew too well the emotion of a wingman seeing his section leader blown out of the sky, but mission success was critical. Discovered, they had to continue in what was now a kill-or-be-killed engagement.
“Snakes from Flip, continue to the target. Mark the posit and defend yourselves, but continue!”
Bai was now on the water and took furtive glances behind him to see if any Americans were pursuing. Heading north, his radar warning display was clean, and he roared over a colorful reef of coral. He was safe, but saw on the horizon that Blood Moon was belching black smoke. Liu Qi!
Remaining in burner, he pulled left as hard as he dared, his eyesight graying and narrowing as he struggled against the pressure. Close to supersonic, he arced wide under sustained g and, when he pulled the throttles out of burner, thought his jet would careen into the sea. He kept control of it and pulled harder until he was pointed back toward the atoll and into the fight, his vision aperture opening and color returning.
As gentle morning ripples raced under him, Wilson saw the burning outpost loom up and fill his windscreen. With Breeder and the others in position, they were now in air-to-ground mode, and green attack graphics were presented on his visor as distance to target counted down. First, they would launch the AARGMs they carried in a self-defense effort to knock down any tracking radars that dared to lock them. With his missile selected, he squeezed and the AARGM came off with a deep whoooomm as it shot forward, the rocket motor glowing bright. Mesmerized, Wilson watched his missile enter a shallow climb and saw Hutch’s missile follow it toward the target. His radar warning display showed he was not targeted; the AARGMs were an insurance policy. HAVE REELs in the formation also served to protect them — he hoped. Wilson then prepared for his attack. Weapons set, FLIR set, armed-up, tapes on… distance and seconds counting down fast.
This was it.
As the action point approached, Wilson assessed the rate and got his thumb on the transmit switch and pushed it up.
“Snake-one-one flight. Action!”
Wilson snatched his jet up and right as Breeder continued in for a count. Rolling level, Wilson saw Blood Moon fall below, and he picked up his target, a weapons magazine at the tip of the atoll. Antiaircraft “winking” flashed all around the island, and smoke from smudge pots, lighted to obscure targets, covered everything in a transparent gray blanket. Wilson expended chaff as he reversed and pulled down into the smoke and fire of Blood Moon. AAA, resembling flaming basketballs, shot past.
Breeder pitched up right and, as soon as he was established, reversed left. Hutch and Tails mirrored them a mile away as all expended chaff and maneuvered hard. Wilson put his aiming diamond on the magazine and designated, noting the release cue fall as he pulled into it. Wilson’s Rhino shuddered three times as the bombs came off, and he jinked hard away, overbanking down before performing a zero-g roll upright and jinking back in. Breeder’s targets of opportunity were aircraft on the ramp, and he centered his stik on an aircraft shelter with a big H-6 parked beyond it. Hutch and Tails also got their weapons off on their aimpoints, and, like Wilson, jinked hard to throw off the gunners’ aim. Some of the AAA were aimed but most were barrage fire. A handheld missile fired from the wharf, followed by another, spiked the fear levels in the American cockpits.