The Price Of Freedom II
-Jonathan
The Soviet invasion of America has finally been countered. We now hold the offensive, pushing them out of our country. American casulties have remained high, but morale has not fallen...
Chapter 1, Airborne Response
Hearing the morning call, I get out of my bed, and dress myself quickly. The CO has summoned us for another mission, most likely.
With his normal attitude, he yells "GET YOUR ASSES INTO MY BREIFING ROOM, NOW!" over the comm system. I run out of my room, knocking someone over on the way into the hall. After a few minutes, I reach the meeting. The CO yells at us, as is the norm here at Eglin AFB. "All right, you little pukes did pretty well on that last strike. The Russkie armored column didn't last 5 minutes against you. Cheers arise from the men. His tone of voice softens. "Your next mission is as follows. You will proceed to the Gulf, with aerial refueling awaiting your arrival. You will then attack a Russian\Mexican air base. Any questions?" The joker at back replied to him. "Yes sir!", sounding more like Gomer Pyle than anyone I've heard. Angrily, the CO yells at him. "Alright, you dumbass. Get your little butt up here, and push!" Everyone starts laughing at him. "Now, for the rest of you, suit up, and get out of here. Dismissed."
The whole room answers "YES SIR!", and runs off to their lockers...
After I get my flight gear on, I run out to the tarmac, watching my airman do another check on my A\V-8B Harrier. I salute him, and he returns it. I climb up the ladder, watching the men run to their aircraft. I crawl into the cockpit, closing the canopy over my head. Flipping a few switches, the engine roars to life. I salute my airman once more. "Tower, this is Alpha one niner, requesting takeoff clearence." Shortly afterwards, the tower responds. "Alpha one niner, this is tower. Contact AWACS on depature, cleared for takeoff. Squawk 1589". "Rodger that, tower. Cleared for takeoff, squawk 1589.". With that, I adjust the engine nozzles downward, lifting the aircraft up into the air. Soon, my wingmen join me, flying southwest over the city of Destin, headed towards Mexico, and our ultimate objective...
After a few hours, the AWACS aircraft contacts us. "Alpha one niner, radar contact. Keep your bearing, link up with Kilo Charlie, 15 klicks southwest.". "Affirmative. Linking up with Kilo Charlie.". I get a visual sighting of the KC-135 tanker, and our squadron acclerates forward to intercept the fuel probe. With a careful hand, I guide the refueling probe into the receptacle on my Harrier, and begin recieving it. 5 minutes pass, and the probe detaches from the port, moving onward for the next aircraft. We all get the tanks topped off, and move onward towards Mexico. "Alpha one niner, good luck..."
-Jonathan
The Soviet invasion of America has finally been countered. We now hold the offensive, pushing them out of our country. American casulties have remained high, but morale has not fallen...
Chapter 1, Airborne Response
Hearing the morning call, I get out of my bed, and dress myself quickly. The CO has summoned us for another mission, most likely.
With his normal attitude, he yells "GET YOUR ASSES INTO MY BREIFING ROOM, NOW!" over the comm system. I run out of my room, knocking someone over on the way into the hall. After a few minutes, I reach the meeting. The CO yells at us, as is the norm here at Eglin AFB. "All right, you little pukes did pretty well on that last strike. The Russkie armored column didn't last 5 minutes against you. Cheers arise from the men. His tone of voice softens. "Your next mission is as follows. You will proceed to the Gulf, with aerial refueling awaiting your arrival. You will then attack a Russian\Mexican air base. Any questions?" The joker at back replied to him. "Yes sir!", sounding more like Gomer Pyle than anyone I've heard. Angrily, the CO yells at him. "Alright, you dumbass. Get your little butt up here, and push!" Everyone starts laughing at him. "Now, for the rest of you, suit up, and get out of here. Dismissed."
The whole room answers "YES SIR!", and runs off to their lockers...
After I get my flight gear on, I run out to the tarmac, watching my airman do another check on my A\V-8B Harrier. I salute him, and he returns it. I climb up the ladder, watching the men run to their aircraft. I crawl into the cockpit, closing the canopy over my head. Flipping a few switches, the engine roars to life. I salute my airman once more. "Tower, this is Alpha one niner, requesting takeoff clearence." Shortly afterwards, the tower responds. "Alpha one niner, this is tower. Contact AWACS on depature, cleared for takeoff. Squawk 1589". "Rodger that, tower. Cleared for takeoff, squawk 1589.". With that, I adjust the engine nozzles downward, lifting the aircraft up into the air. Soon, my wingmen join me, flying southwest over the city of Destin, headed towards Mexico, and our ultimate objective...
After a few hours, the AWACS aircraft contacts us. "Alpha one niner, radar contact. Keep your bearing, link up with Kilo Charlie, 15 klicks southwest.". "Affirmative. Linking up with Kilo Charlie.". I get a visual sighting of the KC-135 tanker, and our squadron acclerates forward to intercept the fuel probe. With a careful hand, I guide the refueling probe into the receptacle on my Harrier, and begin recieving it. 5 minutes pass, and the probe detaches from the port, moving onward for the next aircraft. We all get the tanks topped off, and move onward towards Mexico. "Alpha one niner, good luck..."