Fanatical. They look to Viktor as their leader, their general, their god.
"So what does this mean? Well, for one thing, I think we can expect human waves once we meet them on the battlefield. We'll see suicide squads, human booby-traps, things like that. At least with these young grunts.
"But remember, Viktor's army is really made up of two kinds of soldier. These young radical kids and the old vets — the 'Aks, Family guys, whatever — that are just along for the ride. They know what's ahead of them. We have to assume these guys are very tightly-strung. Whatever Viktor has buzzing around their heads — probably drugs — they're close to the edge at any given moment. They're one step away from snapping out.
"So, the third objective I spoke about is to get to these guys. Zap them.
Demoralize them. Drive 'em crazy. Force them to go over the brink. You can be sure that Viktor and his guys are not leveling with them. Not telling them we've got more than one hundred fighters and fighter bombers and heavy bombers ready to unload on their asses. You know they haven't told them about our hitting the SAM line or flattening their HQ. But you know the army. You can be sure that rumors are flying through those camps. I'm sure Viktor's told them all it would be a cakewalk. Well, some of them have got to be questioning that right about now.
"Now most of the crazy kids will believe the Party line, no matter what. But the vets won't, if we show them different. They remember the battle for Football City and what happened to the 'Aks. I think Viktor's empire is a house of cards. And, from what Fitzie's spies tell us, we're not even sure if he's still alive. I think one or two good slaps in the face and half these veterans do a one-eighty and starting walking back east. For every guy that deserts, that's one less that we have to waste fuel and airplanes and bombs and bullets on. We've got to be economical with our firepower. It's not a bottomless pit.
"But we have to light that fuse. Get into the minds of these guys, just at the right moment. Just when they're wondering just what they hell they're doing. The question is, how do we do it? How do we spook these guys?"
Suddenly someone spoke loud and clear from the back of the room. "Leave that to me."
It was Hunter.
An hour later, Hunter was strapped inside the refueled, rearmed Stealth fighter, warming up its, engines for take-off. x Jones and Dozer watched from the flight line as the radar-proof airplane took off and disappeared into the clouds.
"I've known him for what seems like a long time now," Dozer said. "I've never seen him like this. He's like a quiet madman. That look in his eyes is terrifying. He's carrying around some emotional baggage with him. And it's so typical that he won't talk about it."
"Maybe it's his F-16," Jones said. "That was a bold move leaving it behind in New York City. There's a good chance he'll never see it again. And he knows it's probably the only F-16 left in the world."
"Or it could be the girl," Dozer theorized. "All he told me was that he found her in New York. Rescued her. But I guess he had to leave her behind too."
Jones lit a cigar. "Or, then again, maybe it's the Russians. The Circle. Viktor. Maybe it's the whole fucking mess."
"Well, whatever it is," Dozer said. "Someone's made a big mistake messing around with him."
Jones paused for a moment. "He says he wants to operate on his own for this one," he said finally. "Wants to be the unpredictable driver. Operate independently. Be what he called 'the uncalculable equation.' I can't stop him. I wouldn't want to. But we'll miss him…"
Dozer nodded in agreement, adding: "Yes. But we don't have to worry too much.
He knows what our strategy is. He'll be on top of every move we make."
"I'm glad he's on our side."
Chapter Thirty-one
The war began in earnest the next day.
Using the narrow "holes" in the SAM shield cleared by the surgical air strikes of the previous days, PAAC fighters and fighter-bombers swept through the central Badlands just as their allies were doing in the north and south.
Bridges, roads, communications stations, fuel dumps and other targets were attacked up and down the Circle areas. More than 80 missions were flown. The strategy of hitting the enemy's rear echelon was put into full effect.
The day was not without its losses. While the heavy duty SAMs were fixed in the Badlands, many of the rear units of the Circle Army were equipped with Soviet-made SA-7 shoulder-launched SAMs. Two of Fitzgerald's Thunderchiefs met their end this way while attacking an ammo train near Mankato, Minnesota.
But the Aerodrome Thuds took back their measure of revenge. One flight, led by Mike Fitzgerald himself, caught a converted AMTRAK train moving south from Minneapolis, carrying ten cars of Circle troops. The four F-105s attacked the train just as it was going over a bridge which spanned a gorge near Springfield, Minnesota. Using rather dated, but still deadly TV-guided bombs, both the bridge and the train were completely destroyed.
In the south, St. Louie's famous F-20 Tigersharks attacked a number of Circle targets around Shreveport. Oil storage tanks and pump houses were high on the priority list. Some of the F-20s were carrying 500-pound "iron" bombs, ideal for busting the sides of oil tanks and igniting the precious fuel inside. The Tigersharks were also successful in severing two major highways leading out of Shreveport, roads on which Circle troops were already moving toward the Texas border. Using laser-guided bombs, the F-20 pilots were able to collapse overpass structures which fell and crushed hapless troops who had sought shelter underneath them. By the time the Tigersharks broke off the attack, a 15-mile span of Interstate Route 20 was rendered useless and dripping with Circle blood. Not one of the ultra-sophisticated F-20 jets was lost.
The Texas Air Force launched a bold air strike on the port of New Orleans, the major staging area for the Circle Southern Group and their Soviet allies.
Sweeping in off the Gulf of Mexico, the Texans bombed and strafed the city's docking facilities and managed to sink two Soviet subs. More oil storage tanks and volatile liquid natural gas facilities were also hit. The city was well-defended and returning pilots told of a sky filled with SAMs of every size and power. Four of the 16 F-4s were lost.
By the end of the day, Jones knew the plan to hit the enemy's rear echelon was a sound one. Even if half the reports of bombing damage were true, the first 24 hours of his counter-offensive were a success. He ordered the same strategy for the next day.
But two things bothered him. One was that despite all the air activity, not one pilot reported spotting any of the enemy Yaks. The other question was: where was Hunter?
Jones had his answer several hours later.
The pilot of a C-130 cargo ship flying over the Rockies to deliver the supplies to the Denver air station, reported seeing the Stealth fighter streaking over Idaho just at sunset. Around midnight, Jones received a coded telex message from the commander of the Free Canadian Forces stationed in the Dakotas. He said that a heavily fortified Soviet radar station located in the Black Hills was attacked and destroyed earlier that night by a single "top-secret type aircraft."
A few hours later, Jones heard from one of Fitzgerald's ADF Thunderchief pilots, via a scrambled radio message. The pilot, flying a night recon mission over Bismarck, North Dakota, was attacked by several hidden radar-controlled anti-aircraft batteries guarding a top priority target just outside the city. The pilot said the fire was so intense, his airplane was hit more than a dozen times within a half minute. With his radio and some flight controls knocked out and the enemy fire getting worse, the pilot was looking for a place to bail out when a "dark, mysterious-looking fighter" came out of nowhere and blasted the AA batteries. "Whoever it was," the pilot told Jones. "He saved my ass."