“I’m hanging in… there. You just land on that ship. You know how… how I love water,” Wu replied. “No swimming today, please.”
“Okay, Wu, okay. At least your instruments work. Picking up the ship great. Gotta love the Chinese avionics.”
Ford scanned inside again to verify his gear was down, flaps down, and he was lined up for the deck. He had nothing to lose at this point by transmitting just a quick phrase on the Very High Frequency, the VHF frequency, so he quickly made up an aircraft callsign and transmitted “WHIRLPOOL 22, gear down.” Ford had no idea if the Chinese radios were compatible with the Lincoln, and transmitted anyway because VHF was a line of sight radio system. There was a slim to none chance that anyone would hear that transmission but the ship because there wasn’t another soul around.
Five seconds went by, then without skipping a beat, the controller came on the radios with “Winds 220 at 19. WHIRLPOOL 22, you’re cleared to land.” Ford wasn’t sure the voice on the frequency was the Air Boss, but that’s all he wanted to hear. He raised his eyebrows up and gave a smirk. No shit?
Ford manipulated the throttles with his left hand, moving them ever so slightly to get the rate of descent accurate, and moved the nose of the aircraft with the stick ever so delicately to drive the 145 knots of precise airspeed down to the deck. The white capped waves in the Pacific were really coming into his peripheral view, and Wu watched in silence from the left seat. Ford chanted the aim point-airspeed phrase the same way he did for every landing. Ford leaned forward in his harness to make sure it was locked, and reached over to ensure Wu was locked in his. This was the moment they were all waiting for, weeks of work, stress, and lives at stake. It was cumulating into one landing on this ship at sea, or it was over. All the risk, all the effort, could be for nothing.
Just a few more seconds of descent. Some more forward airspeed. Almost there… almost there.
WHAAAMMM!
Ford flew the Devil Dragon right down on to the deck of the ship, slamming it into the hard steel around the four wire, while simultaneously catching the nose of the Devil Dragon into the barricade. Sparks flew in all directions when the left main landing gear tire blew and drug down the flight deck sideways. Ford stomped on the Devil Dragon brakes with all of his humanity, so it is no wonder the tire blew. Ford throttled up the two dominant engines to full power upon landing, and because of their vigorous power, he thought they were going to fly right off the ship again. Ford and Wu were thrown forward into their harnesses hard upon impact, but due to the barricade, they were safely on the ship and at a complete stop. There was no going around for a second attempt. They had made it on to the Lincoln.
“Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ!” Ford said out loud on the intercom.
“WHIRLPOOL 22, safe on deck,” was heard inside their helmets.
“Shit almighty. Fucking jojo rising, Wu. Jojo rising!” Ford said with a somewhat cocky smile, looking at him in the seat. “Holy shit. We’re here. Whoooo!”
Wu barely let out a smile, but not because he was scared of the landing, but his health was much worse over the course of their flight. “We made it… we… made… it,” leaning over to grab Ford’s arm. His head was back in the seat, and he had his eyes closed while barely licking his dry lips.
Ford had already pulled the throttles back to idle, and then pulled them back all the way, and directly up towards the cockpit ceiling, and back further, to shut down the engines. How do you shut this shit off? The engines immediately blew out like candles. The black jet was being sprayed with Aqueous Film Forming Foams from some of the 22 hose stations on the port and starboard sides of the Lincoln deck. The 1.5 inch and 2.5 inch hose lines were plugged into hydrants, now spraying with force. Some of the spray was making it on to the canopy of Devil Dragon, partially obscuring the view from the cockpit. White suds were seen splashing on the canopy, similar to a car wash.
“Yeah. Yeah, brother… we made it,” as Ford unbuckled himself, then Wu.
VVVVRRRRRRWHHHOOSHHHH!
Two U.S. Air Force F-22 Raptors from Kadena followed two U.S. Navy F-18C Hornets, and whizzed by on their left side with a loud pass, just as Ford predicted, and were there to ensure they would make it to the ship safely. Ford figured the CO launched them for safety, flying alongside to give Ford the confidence that they were in good hands, while the second one was most likely prepared to shoot them down if they were not friendly. JOKER 43, the flight of two Hornets, would divert to Kadena AFB in Okinawa with their Raptor brothers for fuel since the flight deck was going to be busy for a while.
Banging was heard from below the aircraft, and then cockpit hatch opened upwards from below. “FORD! WU! ARE YOU OK?” It was Mark’s voice, loud and full of emotion and concern, coming from below, along with the strong scent of kerosene waffling up from the steel, gray and dirty, flight deck.
“MARK! Yeah, we’re okay. I need your help. Wu is hurting. He’s in bad shape. We need to get him out now! Tell the Corpsmen down there that he sustained a gunshot wound. Left leg is bleeding pretty good. Get them up here.”
Mark turned to the medical team standing there and relayed the info. They went in ahead of Mark in order to get Wu out of the jet and into the Lincoln infirmary. Ford, along with the Corpsmen, handed Wu down from the seat and down and out of the cockpit to a nearby flat stretcher, and seat belted him down quickly. They all heard the word ‘gunshot’, and wondered what the heck happened.
“Did he say gunshot wound?” Emily asked.
Emily and Robert were under the jet, too, overlooking Wu getting taken care of. Once Wu was carried off, they took a close look at the impressive titanium and alloy skin exterior of the Devil Dragon, in awe of the Chinese engineering. Even the rivets were unique. Robert stepped on the crew ladder and placed his hand up high on the fuselage so he could feel it, then turned to Emily. “Amazing.”
“What kind of aircraft material is that up there?” Emily asked.
“This is intense. The Chinese used composite materials just like we did. This iron ferrite material coats the airframe… it absorbs the radar, not reflecting the radar,” Robert explained. “Mark will love this once he gets a chance to examine.”
Ford climbed down from the ladder, and saw Emily. His face was bruised, and the left shoulder of his flight suit was torn and full of dried blood, and she placed her hands on his face. They embraced with a hug, then a long kiss. Mark and Robert were there, too, giving him a hug.
“I knew you could do it, Ford. You’re my special guy. I love you,” Emily said to Ford, giving him a special wink.
“You made it, Stevens. Glad you’re back, kid. Welcome to the Lincoln.” Mark said. “Hey. Someone special is here to see you. A visitor.”