One by one the team members gave a curse-laden roll call. Liu had a major welt on his arm and Jack “Pretty Boy” Floyd had a bloody nose, but none of the injuries were severe. “Powder” Talcom brought up the rear of the muster.
“I think I puked my fuckin’ brains out,” he said.
Everyone laughed, even Egg.
“Ought to fill a thimble,” said Bison. “If that.”
Aboard Raven , over Iran 1710
“LASER IS CONFIRMED AT SITE TWO,” SAID THE COPILOT.
“The rectangular building at the far end of the eastern block. Subgrid two. Near the animal pen. Marked now on GPS displays.”
“That’s where the Hawk radar is. I have the site marked,” said the radar operator. “They’re off the air.”
“The laser got the Quail,” said the copilot. “But I can’t find the Hind.”
“Scanning,” said the radar operator.
“Go to active radar,” said Major Alou. “Just a burst, then kill it.”
“Nothing,” said the copilot.
“I’m dropping back to look for them,” said Zen, turning the Flighthawk south.
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“Hold on, Zen,” said Alou. “The laser is our priority.
We have to take it out. Then we’ll go back for Whiplash.”
“They may be dead by then.”
“They may be dead already.”
Dreamland Command Center
0815
THE HELICOPTER HAD BEEN OUT OF CONTACT FOR MORE
than five minutes now. Dog did nothing, continuing to stare at the sitrep screen showing Raven over Iran.
They had a good location on the laser. Alou was almost in position to strike it. Should he tell them to turn back and find his men?
No way. The laser was a potent weapon that had to be erased. His men aboard the Hind were expendable.
So were the ones on Raven, for that matter. And his daughter in Quicksilver. And his lover on the ground at High Top.
“Contact with Captain Freah is still lost,” said the lieutenant at the console. “Major Alou wants to know whether to proceed with the attack or hold off for Whiplash.”
“Hold off,” said Rubeo. “The information is invaluable.”
“You’re assuming the helicopter hasn’t been destroyed,” said Major Cheshire, sitting at the console next to the scientist.
“It hasn’t,” said Rubeo. “It’s out of communication range because of the ground clutter. The laser struck the Quail, that was all. It’ll take them a half hour to recycle and fire again. I see the pattern now.” The scientist jumped up and went over to the com console. “The Hind 332
DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
is just very low and the signal is distorted by the rotor. Let me see those controls.”
“We’ll give it five more minutes,” Dog said. “Then we’re going ahead with the attack.”
Aboard Whiplash Hind, over Iraq 1718
DANNY TRIED CONNECTING AGAIN. “DREAMLAND COMmand? This is Whiplash Hind. Can you hear me?”
“Captain Freah—where are you? Are you okay?”
It was Fentress.
“We’re on course,” Danny said. “We went into evasive maneuvers. We’re very low.”
“We thought you were shot down.”
“We thought the same thing happened to you.”
“No, the laser got the decoy. Listen—there’s a battery of Hawk missiles right near the laser. Hold off until we nail it.”
“Okay. Where’s the laser?”
“Site two. The rectangular building in subgrid two.
We’re about ninety seconds away—we’ll feed you video once we’ve got it. The air force may scramble jets,” Fentress added. “We haven’t seen them yet.”
“Site two. Got it.” Danny punched up the map visual on his combat helmet screen. Two was the northernmost site, a set of agricultural buildings. There were farm animals, a big warehouse or barn. “We’re five miles away.”
“Okay, good. We’re targeting the Hawks now. Stand by.”
“You hear all that, Egg?” Danny asked his pilot.
“Pretty much.”
“All right,” Danny told the others. “Five minutes.”
“About time,” said Powder. “It’s getting dark.”
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Danny downloaded the diagram of the site into his helmet. “We land at the north end of the building. The barracks are just beyond that, across the double barbed-wire fence. Powder, when Egg gives you the word, hit the barracks with the rockets. Don’t hold anything back.”
“That’s my middle name,” said Powder.
“You see anything when we come in, give it everything you got.”
“What I’m talkin’ about, Captain.”
Aboard Quicksilver , over Iraq 1735
ANTICIPATING THAT THEIR NEW RADAR OPERATOR WOULD
have trouble with the equipment if things got hot, Breanna had preset her configurable display to bring up the duplicate radar interception screen on her voice command. Now that the attack planes they were shepherding were being probed by the Iraqis, she moved quickly, bringing up the screen and preparing to attack.
“Chris, open bay doors. Target radars.”
“Bay open.”
“Our shot, Torbin,” she said, overriding his panel.
“Take a breath. Fire at will, Chris. I have the ECMs.”
“Tacit has target. Launching,” he said.
There was an ever so soft clunk deep within the plane as the AGM-136X pushed off the rotary launcher, tracking toward the Iraqi radar. Unlike the original—and canceled—Tacit Rainbow missiles designed to take the place of HARMs, the Dreamland Tacit Plus had a GPS
guidance system augmenting the radar homing head. This allowed it to operate in two distinct modes: it could fly straight to the radar site, switching to GPS mode if the radar went off. Or, like Tacit Rainbow, it could orbit an 334
DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
area, waiting for the radar to come back on. The ramjet made it reasonably quick, and gave it a range somewhere over seventy miles, depending on the mission profile.
“They’re jammed,” said Breanna.
“Yeah, I’m on it,” said Chris. “Tacit has gone to GPS
mode. Sixty seconds from target.”
“Torbin, go ahead and track for more radars,” said Breanna.
“Missiles in the air!” warned Chris. “SA-2, SA-9s, a Six—barrage tactics again. They’re firing blind.”
“Everybody hang tight,” said Breanna. “Torbin, maintain the ECMs. Torbin?”
“I’m on it.”
“Shit—we’re being tracked. More radars,” said Chris.
“Tacit is thirty seconds from impact—they’re just firing everything they got, in case they get lucky.”
“Not today,” said Breanna. “Brace yourselves.”
She put the Megafortress on its wing, rocking back in the other direction as electronic tinsel and flares spewed from the large plane. One of the missiles the Iraqis had launched sailed about five hundred feet from the nose, its seeker thoroughly confused. It had been launched totally blind and had no idea how close it was to its target.
Neither did the SA-9 that strode in on the Megafortress’s tail. But that didn’t make much difference—sucking on one of the flares, it veered right, then exploded about twenty yards from the right rear stabilizer.
Aboard Raven , over Iran 1745
ZEN RODE THE FLIGHTHAWK SOUTH, AIMING TO MAKE HIS
cut north as the first JSOW hit the SAM batteries guard-
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335
ing the base. Raven, meanwhile, stayed in the mountain valley, where the clutter would keep the Hawk radars from picking her up if they were turned on again.