“Get on it.” He again patted the airman’s shoulder. “Let ’em know it’s coming.”
The two flights of Raptors roared past the E-3. The blue sky above in sharp contrast to the white world below. There was no dark sea as the arctic expanse was at its furthest extent. Colonel Jarrod pinned his eye on the curvature of the earth. He had an idea as to where they might be. They were closing at a rate of 1200 knots. Once he saw them, they’d be on top of them quickly.
“Lookdown do we have any signatures on these birds yet?”
“They look to be a mix of Bear bombers and 29’s. Older, but there are a lot of them.”
“Hmm. Not quite the party crashers we had last time.”
“General?” the airman asked.
“Not the same mix.” Dulles put his hands on his hips and stared at the screens. “I’m thinking they’re going to turn back at the first sign of us buzzing them.” Tell them to do a fly-by and see what happens.”
“Yes sir, uh, General.”
“It’s okay son. It’s habit.”
Colonel Jarrod took note and acknowledged the order. The two flights spread out with Jarrod’s group increasing their altitude.
“Let’s go high and low on ’em boys. Then turn off and follow on their six. Let’s see if Ivan likes that or not.”
The Raptors closed rapidly as the Russian sortie held formation. It was the largest gathering of planes Jarrod had ever seen in this part of the world, planes that weren’t his own. As they closed, the sheer size of the Bear bombers became evident. They were huge. As they rocketed above, he couldn’t help but look back at the old bomber. His group banked right and pulled up behind the formation. The Migs stayed in place. Not a wiggle.
“Well, what now?” Jarrod didn’t just want to follow them into North American airspace. “Light ’em up boys,” Jarrod ordered. The Raptors engaged their targeting systems knowing they would be immediately recognized by the Russians. It would be like shooting ducks in a barrel at this range. It was now his challenge to give.
“Unknown rider, unknown rider. You are within the territorial airspace of The United States. You are ordered to turn away.”
The command center in Diamond Command again fell silent. Dulles stared at the screen ready to give an order he didn’t want to give.
“General, we have new in-bounds.”
“From where?”
“Damn, looks like they’re coming from Canada.”
“Well I’ll be,” Dulles said with raised eyebrows. “They’re supposed to be coordinating with us.” He leaned in close over the airman’s shoulder. “F-16s maybe. Vector them to the E-3.”
“Diamond Crush has initiated targeting systems,” the airman said.
Jarrod listened to the chatter as the Canadians zeroed in to their position. His flight kept their place behind and slightly above the Russians. He was getting itchy. No formation coming over the pole had ever been this close, at least as far as he knew. They were sitting in silence. He had to break it.
“Keep to your positions.”
Just as the words slipped into the stratosphere, the Migs broke formation, falling away from the bombers. Within seconds, the massive cold war era planes began their slow turn away from their projected course and Jarrod let out a sigh of relief.
“They’re turning away.” Dulles lifted his fist and emphatically pumped it once in the air. “Yeah baby!” The command center felt the combined exhale of everyone who had been holding their breath. “Pull them home,” Dulles said as he continued his smile. “Pull them home.”
The sullen sky blanketed winter’s grip on the outskirts of Moscow. The closing night gave them just enough cover to slip out of the big city and into the surrounding farmlands, which from the sheer size of the Russian capitol, was no easy feat. Moscow was one of the largest cities in the world. Getting out just wasn’t that simple.
“How long is this going to take?”
“We’re almost where we need to be, Sasha,” Donald replied. “Just another thirty minutes.”
“And we’ll be where?” Anya asked.
“Where you’ll train for a few days.” Donald turned at the next intersection, the others noticing the lights were becoming fewer and fewer. “This is also an escape route for you.”
“This is so far away, how the hell can it be an escape route?” Danil growled.
“Because it has a gravel runway for a plane.” Donald looked in the mirror at Danil. “You’re the pilot, correct?”
“I am,” he answered immediately.
“You’ll have to take time to familiarize yourself with a plane we have. It’s stashed away for emergencies. And I’d call this, well…” Donald fell silent.
“What kind of plane?”
“A small twin engine plane. Seats six.”
“That’s not much room to spare,” Ivan replied.
“You’ll just have to squeeze yourself in, Ivan. I’m almost surprised they let someone as tall as you into the services. Machines aren’t built for people like you.”
“Why are we heading west?”
“There is no easy way to get out of Russia from here. The quickest way is to fly, and heading west is the closest border.”
“Which is why I’m in this group,” Danil replied.
“That’s likely one scenario. But there’s no guarantee this route would be available. It’s our last option.”
“What’s the first?”
“We’ll cover that later.”
The drive continued and the world that now surrounded them was as dark as it would become. Even still, the glow from the city lingered in the background, the night never fully taking hold in that direction. The lights of Moscow were just too overpowering. Donald turned off to a gravel lane, the rocks making themselves known on the underside of the SUV. The headlights grasped shacks and outbuildings that were lost in night’s fold, slipping back into darkness as they passed. Another hundred yards and the vehicle pulled up to a large house. Donald cut the engine and turned off the lights.
“We’re here.”
“We’re where?”
“Your training grounds, Polina.” Donald opened the door and stood, trying to shake the stiffness from his legs. “But first it’s a good night’s sleep for everyone. We begin in the morning.”
“Doing what?”
“Major, if I am correct, none of you have done anything like this in a long while, or at all. It’s weapons and room to room fieldwork.” He turned away from the building as the last ones piled out of the SUV. “You’ve got three days to begin to develop teamwork.”
“Three days?” Anya exclaimed.
“Three days. Nothing more.”
“That’s not much time,” Ivan replied.
“What did you think was going to happen over here? This is an in and out mission. Sadly, I don’t know what you’re going to get yourselves into. But I need to prepare you for a firefight.” Donald turned and began walking toward the building, his boots kicking loose gravel. “Time to bunk down.”
“Is he in?”
“Yes sir. He’s expecting you. Go right in.”
Martin Powell stepped into the private office of the president. The room wasn’t as ornately decorated as most of the other rooms of the White House. President Kiger liked it that way. Though he liked the nature of the power of his office and what went with it, he was not one to lavish himself with luxury. Though he grew up with a bit of money, he never celebrated it. POTUS looked up from his desk as his chief of staff walked in.
“They’re on their way.”
“You still think this is a good idea?” POTUS replied.
“We need an asset in the area for recovery if things go wrong.”