"Oh, shit," Brad exclaimed, then saw the pilot blast out of the fireball. His parachute popped open an instant later, and he descended toward the bridges.
Shaken by what he had witnessed, Brad keyed the intercom. "They got CAG." The air-group commander, a veteran Skyhawk pilot and former A-4 squadron CO, had been leading the strike group.
"I saw it," Harry replied solemnly. "Dash Two better alter his run-in or they're going to bag his ass, too."
The Vigilante pilot steepened his angle of bank, making it easier for Joker Flight to view the target area.
Austin dropped farther behind the photo aircraft. He did not want to risk a collision while he was watching the bombing and strafing runs. Brad stared in disbelief at the second Skyhawk.
The pilot pressed the attack on the same run-in line. "He's going right down the same chute… they're about to take him out."
The A-4 pilot flew through the flak barrage, released his bombs, and limped away with smoke pouring from the tail pipe.
"Come on, Three," Brad said through clenched teeth, "break it off, and set up a different approach."
As if he had heard Brad's words, the third pilot snapped into a tight turn and lowered his nose to hug the ground. The remaining pilots followed the new leader as he repositioned the flight for an attack from a different direction.
Lonestar Flight had engaged five MiG-17s. The enemy fighter pilots, determined to attack the American bombers over Haiphong, had shot straight through the flight of Phantoms. Brad listened to the Lonestar leader curse and shout orders to the other three pilots.
Austin searched the sky for the approaching MiGs, then glanced at the bridges. The lead Skyhawk, diving from a different angle, dodged a SAM, salvoed his bombs, and blasted over the target.
Looking at Carella's Phantom, Brad was tempted to key his radio. They needed to intercept the rapidly approaching MiGs before the fighters reached Haiphong.
The explosions and bright fishes over and around the bridges caught Austin's attention. One of the spans had collapsed, severing the bridge. A cloud of brown smoke and dust rose as the next Skyhawk pilot dropped his bombs on an adjacent span.
"Bandits! Bandits! Joker," Red Crown called from the ship lying off the coast. "Five bogies at three three zero, eleven miles. Lonestar is closing on them, but you better set up for an intercept. Come starboard to three — "
The urgent transmission was cut off by a frantic Mayday call from the second A-4 pilot who had flown through the flak trap. His smoking engine had seized and disintegrated, forcing him to bail out of the crippled Skyhawk. He was going down south of the city of Haiphong, and needed air cover and the RESCAP Skyraiders.
"White Lightning," Carella radioed to the Vigilante pilot. "Joker One."
The radio transmissions were chaotic, forcing the quiet reconnaissance pilot to try three times to answer his escort. "Go, Joker."
"Jokers are going to engage the bogies. Recommend you orbit and wait for us."
The Vigilante pilot heard most of the message. "Copy, Joker. Lightning will orbit."
Carella banked steeply, lighted the afterburners, and raced toward their adversaries. "Jokers, punch off centerlines, and go combat spread."
Brad toggled the jettison switch and kicked off his 600-gallon fuel tank. His radar warning receiver was alive with chatter and groans. "Harry, heads up for SAMs."
"Shit!" Harry shouted an instant later. "We've got SAMs at two o'clock! Coming up fast!"
Brad quickly scanned to the right. What he saw made him freeze in terror. Two missiles, trailing plumes of smoke and fire, had them boresighted. They would impact the Phantoms in seconds.
"Joker One, break right! Jocko, break right!" Brad yelled, snapping the F-4 into a punishing 8-g turn. Carella whipped his Phantom over, pulling close to Brad's aircraft. Hutton was petrified, believing that they were going to have a collision with Joker 1.
The two SAMs detonated under the belly of Austin's F-4. The force of the twin explosions caused the Phantom to shudder and violently yaw to the left. Feeling his heart pounding, Brad fought the stick and darted a look at the annunciator panel. Thank God! The caution lights remained dark.
"Nine and ten o'clock, Jokers!" Ernie Sheridan shouted over the radios. "SAMs at nine and ten!"
Brad saw a streak of blazing fire rip past his canopy. He ducked instinctively, cursing out of fear as the SAM arced out of sight. How many more shots until they nailed him?
Chapter 41
"Tallyho!" Carella yelled, reefing his thundering Phantom straight up. "Jokers engaging."
Brad spotted the MiGs as he pulled into the vertical and prepared to jump the five aircraft. Two of the MiG pilots raised their noses and turned into the Phantoms, while the other three continued toward Haiphong.
Brad completed a zero-airspeed reversal, then cringed when he almost collided with the Lonestar flight leader. Gulping oxygen, Austin unloaded the F-4 and hoped the MiGs would overshoot.
The Lonestar Phantoms raced after the three MiGs headed for the strike group. Brad saw one of the F-4s fire a missile at the same moment the two MiGs that he and Carella had engaged opened fire. The North Vietnamese pilots were taking advantage of their tighter turning radius to pull inside of the heavier F-4s.
Brad felt the Phantom stagger as the tracers penetrated the tip of his starboard wing. He pulled so hard that he momentarily grayed out. Harry groaned and shouted obscenities when Brad entered a vertical rolling scissors with the trailing MiG. He had lost sight of his flight leader in the swirling fight.
"Come on, goddamnit!" Harry shouted, gripping the sides of the canopy. "Shoot him! Lock him up!"
"Where's Carella?" Brad asked, straining under the punishing g forces.
Hutton swiveled his head, searching for Carella and Sheridan. "Jocko is low… seven o'clock. No factor."
"Keep an eye on him." Brad pulled the Phantom until it buffeted. "We don't want to midair."
One of the biggest fears was the possibility of hitting a friendly aircraft during a multiplane engagement. After every turn and twist, Brad gained more advantage on the MiG pilot. It was obvious that the Vietnamese pilot was not proficient at using his fighter in a vertical contest.
At fifty degrees nose off, Brad fired a Sidewinder. The missile tried to make the corner, but went ballistic and shot past the MiG. The narrow escape scared the MiG pilot into a hard break. The high-g maneuver caused the airplane to bleed off speed, giving Brad the advantage he needed.
After the MiG reversed, Brad punched off a second missile. The Sidewinder came off the rail, did a snake dance, then tracked straight for the MiG.
"Go! Go!" Harry yelled as the missile plowed into the tail of the fighter.
After the initial impact, the MiG flew out of the explosion and raced toward the ground. The aircraft was missing the upper portion of the vertical stabilizer, but flew away in controlled flight.
"Who makes these goddamn missiles?" Brad asked with tightened jaw muscles. "Mattel?"
Yanking his head from side to side, Brad searched for Carella and the other MiG. He pulled on the stick and entered a barrel roll.
Scanning the sky, Brad momentarily lost his situational awareness. Seeing the MiG and Carella flash past, he selected after-burner and snatched the control stick over into a nose low turn. The g forces slammed his helmet against the canopy.
"You're passing five hundred knots," Harry yelled as the Phantom rocketed toward the ground. "Bring the nose up! Get the nose up!"
Feeling the controls get stiff, Brad glanced at the attitude direction indicator and the altimeter as the F-4 plunged through a thin layer of clouds.
"We're supersonic!" Harry exclaimed in panic. "Pull up! Pull up!"