The F-35s’ deliberate turn sideways exposed their undercarriage, increasing their radar cross section and allowing them to be detected for a moment before they leveled off and disappeared from the radarscope.
“Like the flares?” Crawford asked.
“Exactly. We call that ‘churning and burning’ the air. Once we form up, Mother will have us flipping and rolling so the enemy sees multiple radar returns giving a fleeting impression we are a significantly larger allied force than they think. We’ll appear in the sky somewhere, disappear to race to another section, where we will appear there. To the enemy, it will seem like multiple aircraft. The automated coastal air defense system will go wild assigning multiple contact numbers to a single aircraft.”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“Then we may actually find out how superior our stealth-ness is to their superior number. Exciting, isn’t it?”
Franklin took a deep breath. As long as he had stealth as a tactic, he was confident in winning the air combat battle from a distance. Way back in his psyche was also confidence that if he had to run, he could hide in plain radar view. It was a little harder to hide if they were in the middle of air-to-air combat.
“I think we would prefer to be superior numbers,” Crawford added.
“Of course, chaps, we would also, but unfortunately, we have discovered that the Royal Navy tends always to be outnumbered, so we have to add a little British tactical ingenuity to the mix of technological superiority.”
“You okay?” Norton asked Taleb. She reached up and touched Taleb’s cheek.
“Ouch!” Taleb exclaimed, jerking back and gingerly putting his hand where she touched. “What you trying to do?” “He did do a little damage to you. Here, let me see,” Norton said, pushing Taleb’s head to one side.
“You are going to have one hell of a bruise around that thin neck of yours.” She removed her hand and started walking again. “You are lucky I came along when I did or else it would be you dodging sharks below the waterline.”
“Yeah, and you have my undying thanks and admiration,” he said, stretching his neck. “He was just lucky I hadn’t started getting serious with him.”
“If he had gotten any luckier, you and I wouldn’t be walking together right now.”
He dropped his hand by his side as they passed through the covered passageway between Capella and Algol.
“I think you’ll live,” Norton said, looking at him. “How do you feel? Anything hurt more than it should?”
“My ego hurts more than anything else. I am going to swing by my rack and grab a few personal things.” He glanced at his watch. “Thirty minutes.”
She looked at hers. “Thirty minutes. Let’s hope everything goes according to plan this time. This General Quarters helps. How long until they miss him?”
Taleb shrugged. “Just because I’m wearing a Navy uniform doesn’t mean I know everything. I would say several hours after they secure from General Quarters. Large organizations have large gaps of missing information and few ways of putting it together.”
“Was he shocked when you told him we knew he was coming?”
“Yeah. This Andrew…”
“Does he have a last name? Even the short reports referred to the family members by their first names. I don’t recall ever seeing a last name.”
Taleb shook his head. “I’m sure they have one, but God’s Army isn’t in our sector. It belongs to Shenk and Williams. I’m sure we’ll know what it is soon when I file my report. Right now, across America, the leaders of God’s Army are being rounded up. By this time tomorrow, CNN and the press will be having cataclysmic orgasms about homegrown terrorists gone international.” He held up one hand. “On one hand, they’ll talk about how the Federal Government has broken up a homegrown terrorist group.” He dropped the hand and held up the other. “Then a few days later — by Sunday — the talk shows will be discussing whether this really broke up a terrorist group or was it government interfering with freedom of religion.” “Our job is to do and die, not to—”
“I know, I know,” Taleb said, quickly changing the subject. “Next time, they shouldn’t go around blowing up foreign embassies. Where you want to meet?”
They stepped onto the bow of the Algol. Norton bent down and pulled her sock up, covering the small tattoo of a bird on her right ankle. Standing, she pulled her Palm Pilot from her pocket, pulled out a thin wire from it, and held the wire against the nearby mast. “Target is topside near the Regulus or heading in that direction.” She shoved it back into her pocket.
“Fifteen minutes. Give me five minutes at my rack and I’ll meet you on board the Regulus. From there, we’ll catch up with him.”
She reached out and tugged his shirt. “What will we do if it doesn’t go down right? We got those security patrols to worry about.”
“I have passed it along to Langley. They know. It’s their responsibility to take care of it.”
“If they don’t?”
“I take it you haven’t been with the organization long? They always get it right.”
“Lots of things have to happen here.” She made chopping motions with her hand. “One after the other, in order — in proper sequence.”
“And they will. They always do.” He looked at his watch. “Ten minutes on Regulus. We need to get that radio.”
Taleb glanced over his shoulder at Norton, who stood watching him walk toward the stern of the Algol.
“They always go right?” she shouted after him.
He shrugged. “Well, sometimes… but not often.”
He picked up the pace and was soon out of sight. Damn. He hoped everything went right this time. Most times, the operational planning became general guidelines as the intensity and timelines converged. He was still wondering where they were going to find their man and how they were going to get him topside.
FIFTEEN
“Mother, Black Leader; I have Raptor Leader Formation on my left flank and Raptor-10 Formation on my right.”
“Roger, Black Leader; Raptor-20 Formation is twenty miles behind you in an easy turn toward you.”
Two clicks on the microphone acknowledged the Royal Navy Air Intercept Controller’s transmission. Franklin looked out his right side. Johnson’s Raptor was several hundred feet ahead on his right with a five-hundred-foot higher-altitude separation. He looked past Johnson to where, in the distance, he could make out the two F-35 aircraft of Commander Lester Tyler-Cole’s formation. There were two other F-35s out here somewhere, or so said Mother when he was packing and stacking the aircraft during the past few minutes. Franklin looked to his left; clear sky as far as the horizon. Ahead, off the horizon, clouds marked where land started. Somewhere between those clouds and their own westerly subsonic heading were sixteen bandits heading their way. At this speed, he doubted it would be long until they either passed each other with wide-eyed shock, or found themselves dodging hastily fired missiles and bullets.
As if reading his thoughts, the Royal Navy AIC keyed his microphone. “Black Leader, Raptor Leader, and Raptor 10; bandits are twenty-five miles from your position. We are going to do some churns and burns. For Raptor formations, churns and burns will involve exposing your undercarriage for a couple of seconds. Be aware of where your wingman and other friendlies are in the area. I will call a sharp right-hand or left-hard turn. You are to flip the aircraft so the wings are vertical with the ground. I will then almost immediately say level off, followed by a level turn. In the level turn, you will increase speed and put a mile from the churn position. Then we’ll do it all over again. Any questions?”