The new arrivals had to be refueled and checked over prior to today's mission. The munitions crews had been working all night, stuffing 500 pound bombs into the bellies of the bombers. 176 per aircraft, all fitted with fuse-extenders so they would go off above the ground, not buried in it. Radar pictures taken by the RB-58s had been loaded into the bombing systems of the aircraft. There were three formations going out, six aircraft per formation. Two spares, just in case one of the scheduled aircraft didn't make it.
Cockpit, B-60E “Flying Fiasco” U-Thapao, Thailand
“Cleared for take-off, let’s get this apology for an aircraft rolling.” Throttles firewalled, the B-60 started its run down the huge runway. Ahead of them Miss Tressmine was already halfway down the runway, her nose lifting as she started rotation. Flying Fiasco followed her, picking up speed smoothly as the eight jets pushed her down the runway.
“Hey guys, look on the bright side. This one goes well and we could get hauled out of this rust-bucket and given a decent aircraft. Ohhh sheee-it.”
Suddenly, Flying Fiasco was slowing, not picking up speed. Engineering station confirmed it “Loosing power on one, two five and seven sir. And hydraulics losing power as well, I don't think we can get the gear up even if we rotate. We have to abort sir.”
“Tower, This is Flying Fiasco power loss on four engines, hydraulic pressure going. We are aborting take-off.”
“Understood Flying Fiasco. Keep going to the end of the runway and wait there.”
Main Tower, U-Thapao, Thailand
“We have an abort General Dedmon. Captain Zipster's Flying Fiasco. Engine and hydraulic failures. Lady Lace is taking her place. Sir, Zipster's crew are swearing at their aircraft something terrible.”
Dedmon shook his head. “I've had it with that bunch of whining losers. Colonel, find whatever the lowest rank in the US Armed Forces is, invent a lower one, and bust the whole load of them to it. Then kick them out of SAC and assign them to ground duty somewhere else in the Air Force. Preferably in Alaska. It’s time we made an example of somebody. When the mission is launched, tow that bird in, get her thoroughly inspected and I'll put a new crew in her. We've got some good kids who'd welcome the challenge of getting Captain's bars by bringing a hard-luck bird around.”
“Take offs are still on schedule sir. God knows why the Thai Air Force built this runway so big but its paying dividends now. The last two aircraft went either side of Flying Fiasco.” Dedmon laughed, that was a new way of giving the finger to a thoroughly disliked crew.
Lek 's Farm, Ban Mab Tapud, Thailand
Chong reached out and scratched the water buffalo's left ear with his toe. Obediently, Bok turned left, pulling the plow around and starting the next furrow. The Monsoon rains were ending and it was planting time. This year, it was good, the price for last year's harvest had been high, they'd been able to buy the seed for this year's crops without borrowing money. There had even been some left over. They'd made a generous offering to the Monks and Father had bought Mother cloth for a new dress. He'd also bought her a gold chain she could wear as a necklace. If times got hard, they'd have to sell that of course but not her new dress.
Father was walking behind Bok now, making sure the plow turned the wet soil over properly while the other children planted the rice. Soon, the field would be flooded and the rice crop would grow.
The new furrow was taking them towards the airfield at U-Thapao. Approaching them was an aircraft, one of the giants that came from America. It wasn't the first to pass this morning but the earliest had been the fast ones with triangular wings. Then, some of the giants had passed further inland but this one was going to pass directly overhead. The giants were behaving differently from usual, trailing clouds of black smoke from their engines. Even to the farmer and his family, it was obvious those engines were straining hard to lift whatever it was the giants carried. Sitting on Bok's neck, Chong reached up and waved to the giant. To his stupefied delight the giant rocked its wings in acknowledgment then swept overhead.
Chong jumped off Bok's neck, grabbed a small handful of rice seed and climbed the bank to the road. A few yards away was a simple shrine, one of tens of thousands that stood beside the roads all over Thailand. Chong made a deep wai in front of the cracked and peeling Bhudda statue then put the rice seed in the shrine. An offering on behalf of the crew of the giant who had returned his wave and a quick prayer for their safety.
Cockpit RB-58C “Marisol”, 65,000 feet over Eastern Burma
From this altitude, the ASG-18 radar was giving a panoramic view for hundreds of miles in every direction. The four RB-58s were flying racetrack patterns. Marisol and Tiger Lily formed one pair, they were heading southwest, towards the three formations of B-60s far behind them. They were weaving, their paths interlocking as the turns widened their search scans. To the south, flying northeast, were Sweet Caroline and Coral Queen, also weaving to maximize their search scans and confuse the watching radars. For watching radars there were. They'd already picked up the big, long-range search set at Tengchan. There were others now, ones they hadn't seen before. Fighter control radars.
The northeast portions of the racetracks were longer than the southwest ones; that meant the RB-58s were steadily moving towards Myitkyina. Marisol reached the end of her southwest leg and turned northeast again, the turn pointing her nose straight at the Parrot's Beak.
“Contacts Mike, Hostiles. Three formations. Designated Bandit-One and Bandit-Two coming towards us, Bandit-Three heading south of us. Estimated speed Mach 1.2. Tentative identification, three groups of four Kawasaki Brandis. Range 180 miles closing fast, intercept course for the B-60 formations. If they aren't over the border yet, they will be in a few seconds. Whoa, they just went to Mach 2.1 must have cut in their rockets.”
“They must be hoping to do a speed run past us and get to the bombers before we can catch up. Flight Control, this is Marisol we have twelve enemy aircraft closing fast, intercepting the bombers. We're taking them down.”
“Marisol understood. For your information, enemy aircraft are already at least twenty miles inside Burmese territory.”
“Tiger Lily, take the formation on the right, we'll take the left. Take'em out Bear”
In the Bear's Den, Eddie Korrina already had a GAR-9 locked on each of the formations. He selected the left-hand one and stroked the firing button of the GAR-9 system. He could feel the whirr and thump as the belly pod launcher operated, then the lurch as the GAR-9 dropped clear. That was something they'd never felt before, the simulated launches and practice shots didn't have anything like the same feel.
There was a stream of brownish-white smoke in front of them, curving up, far out of sight. It would climb up to over 100,000 feet before slashing down in a glide - if anything moving at over Mach 6 could be called gliding. Korrina and Dravar had already drawn their steel blinds, Kozlowski flipped down his black visor. Any second now....