“Black Leader, do you have visual on bandit formation?” “Negative, Mother. We have them on the heads-up display.” “Status?”
“Black Formation steady on course one-four-zero at six thousand meters.”
“Start slow descent, but prepare for quick adjustment depending on imminent engagement between Raptor Leader and bandits.”
Two quick clicks acknowledged the command.
“Raptor Leader, weapons tight?”
“Roger, Mother; weapons tight,” Johnson replied sharply. Franklin grinned at the thought of all that anger encapsulated within the glass bubble that made up the 360-degree cockpit windshield of Johnson’s Raptor.
“Raptor Leader Formation, at my command, you will do a sharp left turn, ascending rapidly.”
Before Johnson could ask why, the AIC broadcast the command. “Now, Raptor Leader; sharp left turn to course one-eight-zero, near vertical ascent.”
Franklin flipped his aircraft to the left. He lost visual of Johnson, but knew she was in front of him but hidden by the bottom of his fuselage. His right hand pulled the stick back while his left pushed the throttle forward. The Raptor responded smoothly sending his aircraft heading upward. Franklin pulled the stick back slightly. He told himself that no aircraft in the world could catch him now. But running wasn’t something he wanted to do.
“Raptor Leader Formation, be advised you have three J-12s on your tail. They are separating from you at this time.
“Black Formation; Raptor Leader and hostile formation have passed your altitude. Start rapid ascent, come to course one-four-zero during ascent.”
“Mother, Black Leader; we have them on visual. They have passed by us. Request visual intercept.”
“Roger, Black Leader; cleared for visual intercept.
“Raptor 10, do you have battle-space awareness of the players?” the AIC asked Major Crawford.
“Roger, Mother. We are approximately twenty miles from engagement at angels sixteen.”
“You are to ascend to angels thirty and close the engagement. Here is the plan…”
“There’s a plan?” Franklin asked aloud, his body pressed against the seat as his fighter flew at a near-vertical angle. He glanced to his right. Johnson had come up alongside and moved ahead of him about one aircraft length. They were back in formation. Instead of him maneuvering for position to reform the formation, she had done it.
“Raptor Leader Formation is in rapid ascent, passing angels twenty at this time. When they pass you, you are to conduct an active and intrusive identification pass through the center of the Chinese formation.”
“Intrusive identification pass?” Crawford asked.
“Roger, that is correct. That is a pass where one formation is traveling vertical while the other is traveling horizontal. The intent of your pass is to break apart the hostile formation.” “That seems dangerous,” Crawford replied.
“Oh, yes, it is very dangerous, so be careful when you fly through the Chinese formation.”
“Roger, Mother.”
“After the pass, Raptor-10 Formation, you will continue outboard and establish a combat air patrol twenty-five miles from the engagement area. Do you understand?”
“Roger. One pass. Break up enemy formation. Survive it and then set up CAP between engagement area and mainland.”
“Very good,” the AIC acknowledged. “Raptor Leader Formation, as soon as Raptor 10 completes the disruption, you will flip from ascent to descent and engage the bandit formation. Weapons are to remain tight. You are not authorized to fire.”
“Can we use our fire-control radar?” Johnson asked. “At least scare them?”
“Negative. To all flights, no fire-control radar, no missile fire-control seekers, and weapons are tight.” Without waiting for a reply, the AIC continued. “Black Leader; upon the intrusive identification pass by Raptor-10 Formation, you are to engage the Chinese formation from the rear. Both Raptor Leader and Black Leader Formations; once again, be advised you are not to collide as you pass each other.”
Multiple clicks hit the tactical frequency.
Franklin’s lower lip pressed into his upper as he smiled and nodded. Wow! he thought. What a great way to mess up a pilot’s day. He hadn’t figured out what the Royal Navy AIC was doing with all this maneuvering. Wonder why Raptor-10 Formation is not reengaging.
“Passing angels twenty-nine,” Johnson reported.
“Roger, Raptor Leader; bandit formation is still trying to catch up, but have dropped behind you about six thousand feet.”
“Angels twenty-nine,” Franklin said aloud.
“Mother, Raptor 10; we are five miles from engagement zone. We have the contrails in sight. Request permission to engage.”
“Roger, you are cleared for intrusive pass-through, Raptor 10. A pass and identification that disrupts their formation will most likely cause them to break off Raptor Leader. It will also break up their formation integrity.”
“Roger; misspoke.”
“Roger. You are cleared for intercept and pass-through.”
“Say again?”
“I said you may conduct your pass and identification at your convenience, but right now would be a great time,” the AIC said, speaking so quickly the words ran together.
Franklin watched the icons approach in the heads-up display. What he wouldn’t give right now to be able to see what was going on behind him.
“Raptor Leader Formation, at my command. Three, two, one… Now! Direct reverse course and start descent. Weapons remain tight.”
Six thousand feet behind them were the Chinese flying upward; Major Crawford and his formation flying across; and beneath those two formations, four Royal Navy F-35s heading toward them. This was going to be one crowded piece of air real estate in about thirty seconds.
BEHIND Franklin, the three J-12s had a visual on the two Raptors. The Chinese leader had the aircraft at full throttle knowing that the J-12 had altitude superiority over the Raptor. When they passed 35,000 feet, that superiority would allow them to start closing. He smiled as he thought of the look on the Americans’ faces when the J-12s rolled through their formation. He said as much to his two wingmen, who were enjoying this combat action even if they had been refused permission to fire on the Americans. Nothing would give him more satisfaction and honor than to land with two kills for the side of his cockpit. He glanced down at his weapons panel. He’d never secured the weapons panel as ordered. Keeping it armed and ready was the same thing. But, if needed, it would not require him to go through the seconds of motion necessary to arm and fire. This way, all he had to do was flick a switch, hit a button, and missiles would fill the air. Air combat was quick, rapid, and those who made the right first decision lived. He took a deep breath and told the wingmen to keep in formation. He wondered briefly where the British fighters had disappeared to, but Ground Control would tell him where they were when they found them. He looked up at the heat signature coming from the exhausts of the F-22As. What mattered were the targets dead ahead of him.
A dark shape flew past in front of him. He pulled the stick to the right, nearly hitting the wingman on that side. He pulled the throttle back. The J-12 dropped downward. He rolled the aircraft to the right, shouting into the microphone at the two wingmen to take evasive action. Where did that aircraft come from?
A second aircraft zoomed between him and the wingman on the right. They were F-22As. The distinctive cockpit was an easy identifier during that split second as the American fighter flew by. Where was his wingman on the left? The J-12 on the right disappeared in a burst of speed, heading upward. The Chinese leader rolled the fighter to the left. His left wing-man was gone. Did they shoot him down? He was shouting into his microphone for answers. Both wingmen answered, but neither of them knew where the others were. In that brief moment when Crawford’s Raptor-10 Formation flew through the bandits, the integrity of the hostile fighter formation had been lost just as Mother predicted.