Missions 3 & 4 - Reconnaissance
In modern warfare it wasn't other pilots you had to fear – it was the ground below. The threat? Surface to air missiles that could be fired from every conceivable platform. Under those conditions intel took on a new level of importance, so much so that at Red Flag they had a whole area dedicated to promoting it. The organisers called it the threat centre – pilots called it the petting zoo - an outdoor playground filled with real enemy weapons visitors could get an up close and personal look at.
Lorne had seen it before but still went along with his red flag squadron, listening intently as their 'guides' gave them the rundown on weapons specs and capabilities, who was using them, and the most effective defences against them.
"This is pretty impressive," Piper commented to Evan as they moved from looking at an amoured tank to a scarily efficient looking rail gun capable of firing rounds with an impact velocity of Mach four at a distance of two hundred miles.
"It is," Lorne agreed. "I can see why they think it's a more effective learning experience than having us all memorise ordinance specs."
"I don't know about you guys but I'm certainly going to remember that the M-163 Machbet is a surface to air missile and the Ho-Ki is a Japanese tank with enough fire power to shoot me out of the air," Joe Martinez quipped.
"Then my morning hasn't been wasted," David shot back with a smirk.
"Maybe it's the kind of thing you appreciate more after you've faced these kinds of weapons in the air," Piper suggested.
"Definitely," Lorne agreed. "You'll be amazed at what you remember when you've got a laser guided heat seeking missile on your tail."
"Sounds like fun," David was the youngest of the four of them and given to an irreverence Evan could have mistaken for immaturity. In the air though, even only two missions in, he knew David Wilson was anything but.
"Well we're not gonna find out just how much fun during today's mission," Piper said.
That was true – mission three of Red Flag was about reconnaissance – searching enemy territory for possible ground based targets. They'd continue to work in squads of four aircraft, flying formation mostly. For the fighter jets it was about supporting aircraft more suited to intelligence gathering as it was about seeing what could be seen on the ground.
"Hey, Lorne," Evan turned to see Dominic Harper and his squad also touring the petting zoo. Nodding to Piper and the others Lorne headed over. It had been a couple of days since the night Tanya had approached them and he'd been meaning to catch up with the young Australian pilot - Red Flag kept you busy with missions every day, mission debriefs and planning for the next day's mission taking up most of the available time.
"Dom," he fell into step with the taller man, trying to judge from his demeanour if there were any hard feelings at the way Tanya had involved him in her actions that night.
"Evan," Dom grinned. "Been meaning to catch up with you since Wednesday ... seemed like you were headed for a pretty interesting night."
"Yeah, about that," Evan grimaced slightly. "I should have apologised before now ...,"
"Hey, no need mate," Dom shook his head, sincere as he continued. "If Captain Reid is as formidable in the air as she is on the ground I'm surprised you managed to out manoeuvre her during the first mission."
"She took me completely by surprise," Lorne admitted.
"I reckon you were so busy trying not to look like you were interested - while checking her out of course - to notice that she was interested in you too," Dom grinned teasingly. "I didn't mind being chosen to further what was obviously a carefully thought out plan."
"You think so?" Evan was interested in spite of himself. "What are you?" he thought to himself. "Sixteen again and back in high school trying to find out if a girl likes you?" He chuckled at himself. "Sorry - I ah ... I just thought it was all an impulse, at least from her side of things. What about you?" he changed the subject deliberately. "Did you enjoy playing tourist with Tanya's friend?"
"Enough that Stacey and I are going to do it again tonight," Dom said complacently. "And never underestimate a woman's power to engineer everything while making you think it was all your idea," he added knowingly.
"Sounds like a man with experience," Lorne commented.
"Three sisters," Dom shuddered dramatically.
"Too bad," Evan laughed, playing along as he caught sight of the twinkle in the other man's eyes. "Got one of those myself and that was more than enough. I should have known better," he said more seriously. "Seeing Tanya as a fellow pilot I kinda forgot that she's also a woman as well."
"You ... forgot?" Dom's eyebrows rose, his expression pointed.
"Right," Evan laughed again. Tanya was very attractive - no man alive was going to forget she was a woman in the face of that! "I forgot to assign womanly wiles to her - is that better?"
"Well I'm glad I could assist in opening your eyes to the real world," Dom said sagely. "A woman is a woman no matter what profession she'd engaged in."
"Noted," Lorne exchanged glances with Dom, the two lasting a few seconds before both burst out laughing loudly enough to draw attention from those around them, including Dom's squad.
Promising he'd try to meet for a drink before the other man headed out for the evening, Evan returned to his own team, putting his personal interests aside as he listened to the rest of the tour.
"Control, Sigma three four, in from the south west, flying low," Lorne reported. "Searching."
They were five minutes in to mission three and had split into two man teams as they searched their designated sector of the terrain for enemy activity on the ground. He'd paired with Joe Martinez, taking the lead position for their first run of this type of mission. The following day when they repeated the basics in mission four he'd take wingman position so the more inexperienced man could try flying lead.
"Sigma three four, Control," the reply came back. "No contacts."
So far they hadn't been spotted by the enemy but it was only a matter of time. Reconnaissance would be easy if you could just fly an established pattern covering the needed area without fearing detection. In reality it was different – the enemy was looking for you too as well as looking to protect their military assets on the ground, making the need to avoid detection paramount – that was the thrill that got your blood pumping.
With Martinez sticking close to his right wing, Evan craned his neck to look below them. He didn't have far to look - they were skimming low over the rocky terrain, flying under the radar at 600 miles per hour. At that speed it was as much about relying on instrumentation and what their systems would send back to the surveillance planes flying high above them as it was about what they'd see with their own eyes. It wasn't a blur but they wouldn't be able to pick up anything small until they'd whizzed by it. Luckily in an air battle you didn't put all your eggs in one basket. There were stealth planes also in the air covering the terrain looking for enemy installations.
"Sigma three four, Control. Radar contact, enemy forces 10 miles out."
"Acknowledged," Lorne returned, looking at his own instruments as they kept their heading.
"Sigma three one and two, coming in from the north," the control tower reported moments later. That meant there were probably more than two enemies on approach - the air boss sending in the rest of Evan's squad to provide assistance.
Leaving low altitude Lorne led Martinez up to 10,000 feet, scanning the skies looking for their bogies. There ... was that the glint of sunlight off metal? Narrowing his eyes, Evan twisted his head awkwardly to keep sight of the contact as they zoomed past each other. Taking a sharp turn they reversed direction, mirroring the actions of their enemies.
"Sigma three four, tally one, two o'clock, 5 miles and closing," Lorne reported intently. He'd fallen into that 'battle' zone ... a hyperawareness of everything around him, ably fuelled by adrenalin. His mind was working double speed, taking in instructions from flight control, the readings from his instruments and what his eyes and instincts were telling him and collating it all rapidly into the picture that drove his decisions.
"Sigma three four, this is sigma three one," Piper's voice was a welcome addition to the engagement.
"Welcome to the party three one," Lorne replied.
With the addition of two more planes into the mix the enemy must have decided on a divide and conquer strategy. They broke into two formations, two moving to take on Piper and David while the other three continued to circle with Evan and Joe. The object of the game was to be the plane at the back of the line, the enemy in front of you. It wasn't as simple as that because you still had to watch your six for additional attention either from the bogies you already knew about or the ones that might be dropping in to say hello unexpectedly.
"Sigma three three, break left," Evan ordered while at the same time breaking right. That split the focus, two enemies kept up the chase on Lorne while one broke left too to chase Joe.
Lorne had few options at that point, he had to lose ground as quickly as possible so that he could get behind the aggressors and do a little hunting of his own. Shooting off a series of flares he dropped to 4,000 feet and hit the proverbial brake for a millisecond before putting on the accelerator again. It was a bold move a rookie shouldn't make - the chance for stalling out if you took off too much speed a risk for any pilot. The F-16 was similar to the F-18 in that regard - highly responsive and manoeuvrable at maximum speeds, a brick that was a pain in the ass to muscle through the sky at low speeds. Too low and you could find yourself dropping without an engine.
Back up to 10,000 feet Lorne scanned the sky looking for his targets. The first he picked up immediately - the whole reversal of positions had happened so fast there wasn't time for the bad guys to turn rapidly enough for him to lose them. The second was a challenge. "Come on," Lorne muttered, doing a 180 spin and moving his head from side to side as he looked directly at the ground. "There you are," he said with a faint smile, spotting the other bogie at a much lower altitude. They'd been going to sandwich him in much as he and Piper had on the first mission. "Not today boys," Evan said, keeping the upside down approach as he dropped the nose and bee lined straight for the lower plane. At the last moment he flipped the right way up, sighted his target and fired all in one smooth motion.
"Control, Sigma three four. One sniper down, moving to engage second sniper," he reported in, shifting for a sharp climb back upwards. His last remaining foe hadn't been idly circling while Evan engaged his wing mate - instead he'd moved to try to provide protection. Lorne had just been too quick ... the two planes literally whizzed past each other close enough to feel the other's turbulence, one heading up, the other down. "Fuck!" Lorne felt his heart jump at the close call.
"Signma three four, Control. Radar contacts, three more bogies on the edge of your sector, heading south."
"Just great," Lorne muttered, sure it'd only be a matter of time before they descended on them too. "Sigma three one, sigma three four. What's your status?"
"We are tally visual on the second sniper and closing in," Piper replied.
"Well can you hurry it up?" Evan returned. "We have additional enemies coming in from your heading and I've got one more bogie dogging me."
"Acknowledged. Moving to intercept," Piper made the decision to break away, leaving David to finish up their first engagement. He'd then rejoin her and hopefully stand up against the others.
"Sigma three three, what's your status?" Lorne had been unable to keep track of Joe after they'd made the decision to deliberately split the battle ground.
There was a moment's pause and then Joe's jubilant voice came back to them. "I'm still here ... sniper is down," he announced. "Heading back to you now."
While the conversation had been going on Lorne had been exchanging positions with his own enemy ... each doing enough to keep the other in sight but not enough to gain a superior position. Evan wanted to clear up the mess quickly so they could return to the primary objective ... finding out what was so important that two wings of enemy planes had been sent to stop them flying over it.
It was all about commitment, who was willing to push the hardest to gain the upper hand. Lorne had tested himself in the past in real situations - he knew he was willing to push his aircraft to the maximum ... and beyond, if the situation called for it. Maybe his foe was the same, maybe not.
Time to find out.
Sending the F-16 into a tight 180 degree plus turn, he pushed the degree as hard as he could, hitting 8 G's at the apex. He could see the other plane in front of him, a small point hovering and shifting erratically as it too mirrored the turn. Both planes sent out flares but that close in range the smoke trail was enough to keep a visual. There wasn't much in it but Evan did gain something on the sniper and quickly moved to capitalise. Pulling another aerobic move out of his bag of tricks he did a manoeuvre that was essentially a drop, roll, spin. Losing altitude he literally rolled his plane under the path of the other plane as it continued its tight turn so that he ended up on its tail an instance later. The key now was to get the lock quickly before the enemy could recover. That was something Evan had always been good at - he was decisive and confident and he never hesitated to do what was required. The square on his screen that represented the locking zone for weapons fire became his focus as he watched the little gray dot hover and zig zag around the edge until ...
"Weapons locked, firing missiles." Lorne completed the kill but didn't rest on his laurels - there could be other enemies who'd eluded the rest of his squad approaching. Setting off a series of flares he took his plane down to 400 feet, skimming the ground as he looked for whatever it was that had impelled the enemy to action. It didn't take long to spot something.
"Control, Sigma three four," he radioed in. "I have two GMLs, Coyote Bravo, sector 3," he continued, reading off the bearing for the enemy ground missile launchers from his instruments.
"Acknowledged," control returned. They'd relay the information to the air boss who'd direct satellite imagery to that position to confirm. Once confirmed ordinarily Lorne would get an order to bomb the installation. For the day's mission spotting and reporting ground targets while avoiding enemy defences was the only objective.
"Sigma three four, Control. Target has been confirmed. Second attack wing has been called off the chase," Lorne grinned at that - they were in the clear. "You are advised to return to base for refuelling. Good work."
"Sigma three four, returning to base," Lorne replied.
He skimmed it close to the ground for a few more moments, enjoying the thrill of seeing the terrain up close, feeling the shaking of the F-16 that said 'man, you are really flying me now!' After the moment's indulgence he reset his heading back towards Nellis, reporting in to the rest of his squad at the same time.
It had been a high point for them - five snipers down without losing a man. Not every mission would go as well but their confidence was buoyed by the resounding success.
As they went through Red Flag participants began to appreciate more and more that it wasn't about individual scores, nor the success of your small part of the bigger picture. At the end of the day it was about an overall successful mission on the largest scale. Did they take out the targets? Were casualties minimised? Would they have won the war?
"You guys are getting quite the rep around here Ace," Tanya Reid told Lorne as she sat down beside him in the Mess that night. All the participants of the days mission had sat through the full debrief with air boss Major Pace, and had also conducted their own debriefs to talk about the specifics of performance and look at how well they'd done in each engagement. It reminded Evan of F-18 training - watching your colour coded flight path up on a display screen, seeing your contribution in relation to your enemy target. This was a little different - like everything else about Red Flag it was data analysis on a grand scale, a rainbow of colour coded paths tracking hundreds of planes in the air so that you could see the battle taking shape and appreciate your own squads role in it.
"How's that?" Evan asked curiously, ignoring that little jump start to his system he always got on first seeing Tanya ... something that seemed to have gotten stronger rather than weaker with the familiarity they now shared.
"Your squad's survival to kill ratio puts you at the top," Tanya explained, frowning when he seemed genuinely surprised. "You didn't know?"
"I thought we weren't supposed to worry about that kind of thing," Lorne shrugged. "It's the battle as a whole that matters."
"It is, but everybody wants to know who's to be feared the most up in the air," Tanya insisted, hardly able to believe Evan really didn't care about his individual performance.
"Hey, maybe it's just because I'm only doing Red Flag because the guys made me," Evan suggested. "It's testing me sure, but not to the degree it does the more inexperienced participants."
Tanya nodded even though her expression said she wasn't convinced. Lorne's lack of grandstanding, his seeming need to downplay his talents was a puzzle to her ... it meant she didn't understand him, didn't understand how to fit the type she'd assigned him to the man he was - and that troubled her. How could you play the game with someone when you didn't see the rules in the same light? Shaking off her momentary concern she smiled across at him. "Well then, just take it from me that you are now Blue Forces most feared wing ... which means we're gunning for your ass."
"I'll make sure to take that into account next time we go up there," Evan said blandly, amused at both her insistence that the individual scores meant something and her confusion that he didn't see it the same way. "How did you go up there today?"
"Too good for the rookies in my section of the sky," Tanya said proudly. It was something Lorne admired about her - the genuine dedication to her job, her love of the craft of flying. It was an aspect they shared in common, even if Evan was less concerned about the competition side of things.
"Go you," he quipped, ducking away when she tried to swat his arm for not taking her seriously.
"And the best thing is we get to do it all again tomorrow," Tanya grinned. "You better watch out Ace ... because I'll be coming up behind you."
"Under any other circumstances that would be ... hot," he leaned in, whispering "anytime you want to catch me honey, I'm there."
Tanya shivered, her eyes turning serious in an instance. "Well then, consider yourself caught Ace."
Grabbing his hand she stood and then practically dragged him from the Mess ... he let himself be taken though, let her have the lead as they walked towards the crew quarters. Like before she headed for his room, a fact that gave him a moment's pause before he shook it off. And then it was like the first time, the passion, the connection between them taking fire and driving them towards the conclusion in a rush that left them both stretched out on his bed exhausted but satisfied.
"You do know how to take a lady outside herself," Tanya said, her voice low.
"I think it's a mutual thing," Evan replied, settling into the mattress with her head resting on his chest.
"I do pride myself on my powers of ... persuasion," he felt her smile as she teased him.
"You are very persuasive but that's not what I meant," Evan shifted a little so he could see her expression as he continued. "The two of us together are something special." Because he was holding her so closely he didn't miss her instinctive stiffening or the way she seemed to draw back from him a little. "Is that a problem?"
"No," Tanya smiled too brightly as she sat up and looked down at him. "I believe in physical chemistry and clearly we've got that in spades." She couldn't have made her message any clearer if she'd painted it up on the ceiling for him to see ... the reminder that it was just physical, that there was nothing else there, was all too obvious.
"Right," Evan didn't know why her reaction disappointed him so much, but it did. He wasn't declaring anything to her, was nowhere near ready to even think about that - but the fact that she wasn't even willing to allow the possibility hurt. "Your ego," he told himself, "not your heart." That was all it was - hurt pride. No man liked being used to scratch a physical itch and Lorne was starting to wonder if that was all it was for Tanya.
"I should leave you to get some sleep," Tanya had her facade firmly in place again. Getting up she dressed quickly but not too quickly, and then came back to the bed where he'd stayed watching her. Leaning down she kissed him, not seeming to notice when he didn't exactly respond with overwhelming enthusiasm. "I'll see you tomorrow Ace."
"Yeah, okay," Evan returned, putting a smile on his face that dropped away as soon as she'd closed the door behind her.
Less than a minute later he was up again, showering and dressing before heading towards the same bar he's seem Dominic and the others at a few nights before. With any luck they'd be around again even if Dom himself was already out on his date.
Luck was with him - Dom was absent but Riley Giles and Stephen Bishop were both in attendance. They waved when they spotted him and motioned him over, a fact he was more than grateful for.
"How's the F-16?" Bishop asked, his tone a teasing challenge that harked back to their first conversation.
"She's not the best but she comes pretty damn close," Lorne threw himself into a seat, grinning across at the others. "How's the Hornet?"
"The answer to every man's dreams, of course," Riley quipped, "well, Steve's dreams anyway. He's always been a little odd."
"Hey," Steve punched Riley in the arm with his fist hard enough the other man almost fell out of his chair. He was laughing though, insisting that they all knew it was true.
"There are worse things than putting your heart into your jet," Evan commented. He tried not to let any of his current mood show but Riley Giles was a lot sharper than his casual surfer good looks would imply.
"Sounds like a man with woman trouble," he commented to Steve.
"Come to think of it, why aren't you with that hot pilot Dom told us all about," Steve asked Lorne curiously.
"I was ... but I guess she was done with me for the night," Evan shot back, grimacing as he quickly added "sorry - that was uncalled for."
"Hey, if a woman like that wanted to use me for sex I'd be all over that action in a second," Steve shrugged.
"But then you wouldn't be harbouring a crush like Evan here is," Riley pointed out knowingly.
"It's not a ...," Evan stopped, then sighed. "Okay, maybe it's kind of a crush ... God, I sound like I'm back in high school!"
"You sound like you need a drink," Steve corrected, grinning as he got up to get the next round.
"You knew Tanya before Red Flag?" Riley and Evan continued their own private conversation.
"Yeah, since I got here a few months ago," Lorne replied. "I knew it was a bad idea to get involved with a fellow officer which is why I never did anything about it but the other night ....."
"She reeled you in," Riley concluded. "Dom told me," he added when Evan looked surprised that he knew that. "She must have seen something in you, something different than any other pilot here to make such an obvious play."
"Or maybe she saw me as the challenge she hadn't beaten yet," Lorne suggested. "We'd kind of been dancing around each other for a while before last week." He shook his head. 'It doesn't matter anyway - I'm being a hypocrite complaining about the shallowness of the whole thing when I had no intentions of offering her anything more. I'd just prefer it if it wasn't so ... clinical."
"Intentions and reality are two different things," Riley said knowingly.
"You got someone back home?" Evan asked curiously.
"Yeah - wife and a baby girl," Riley said proudly, instinctively reaching for his wallet and opening it to reveal a picture of a pretty girl holding a newborn. "I had no intention of getting married ... now I have a kid! Sometimes it creeps up on you before you know what hit you."
"Now you're worrying me," Evan quipped, shaking his head. "My heart is fine - still in one piece. It's my pride that's a little bruised and I'll get over that."
"I'm not sure whether to hope you're right or wrong," Riley replied.
"You sound like my sister," Lorne chuckled. "She's been on me for years to find someone and settle down. I've avoided it so far - no reason to think I can't keep doing that."
"You don't know what you're missing," Riley said simply. "Before I met Kate I believed in the job sure. I was motivated but I didn't have the drive I have now. They give me purpose, they make it real, personal. How can any of us do the job without something like that?"
"Family," Evan agreed. "I get that ... and I'm happy for anyone who's managed to find what you have. I ah ... I have my reasons for not putting that kind of family life on my to do list."
"Here we go," Steve's return ended the private exchange, Evan gratefully accepting the beer placed in front of him. Determined to enjoy the night he put thoughts of Tanya and his feelings, whatever they might be, from his mind. He knew - hoped - it would all look different in the light of day.
The next day Lorne discovered that it wasn't only his personal life that seemed determined to leave him dissatisfied. Rather than head out with the rest of his squad he was forced to sit it out on the sidelines while his F-16 engine was rebuilt.
Every engine was tested and reset prior to every mission. When they'd done Lorne's the day before they'd discovered a damaged component that required the whole engine to be disassembled and then put back together, a job that took ground crews 22 hours at the best of times. Having to replace a damaged component put the estimated completion time beyond that and spelled the end of Evan's chances to fly mission four.
In all likelihood he'd picked up the damage during his stint of low level flying – that was particularly hard on aircraft because the engines sucked in dust and potentially more damaging debris. Everything was in demand during Red Flag and there were no spare aircraft just lying around waiting for use.
Lorne shrugged off his disappointment, going along with the others when they used the time between the main mission briefing and specific planning to visit the aviation museum. In one of the unused hangars it contained planes used in previous wars, complete with the bullet holes their pilots would have been proud to survive and bring home.
It was an eye opener, seeing those planes and imagining the conditions the early pilots had flown under. By comparison, although technically and physically more demanding, flying an F-16 was like surrounding yourself with an armoured tank. It was the flying equivalent of driving a 4 wheel drive instead of a model T Ford ... airbags and crumple zones stacked up against the absence of even a seat belt for safety.
Walking under the wing of the World War 2 Vought F4U Corsair, Evan examined the body carefully, grinning when he found the first of a line of bullet holes. Putting a finger through the hole he wondered about the life of the pilot who'd flown that plane home. Had he survived the war and returned to his family when it was over? Had any of his children followed in his footsteps?
"First single-engined fighter to exceed 400 m.p.h," Piper commented, stopping to read the description plaque.
"And now, only sixty years later we're surpassing 600," Lorne commented.
"Progress," Piper smiled.
"Yeah ... that it is," Evan shrugged. "I bet it didn't take the engineers 22 hours to rebuilt this plane's engine."
"Probably could have built the whole plane in less time than that," Piper agreed. "I'm sorry you're missing the mission this afternoon."
"It's okay," Lorne replied. "And I don't need the experience – if any one of us was going to miss out it should be me."
"Very noble of you," Piper said, lips turned up faintly.
"Are you laughing at me?" Evan narrowed his eyes at her warningly.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Piper took a step back, eyes sparkling with humour.
"Good. Don't forget this is my home base – I know places they wouldn't find you for days," Evan kept his expression bland enough to hide his true mood.
"Sure you do tough guy," Piper laughed, not fooled.
"Fine ... just be careful up there," Lorne turned serious suddenly.
"We did okay before you came along hot shot," Piper's pride kicked in.
"I know," Evan said easily, "but we're a team for the duration. And no one can have too many people watching their back."
"True," Piper smiled. "You really are one of the good guys Evan Lorne."
"Keep it to yourself," Evan could feel the slight flush of embarrassment rising. "Anyway, next time I won't be the good guy," he reminded her of his eventual role in future Red Flags.
"I think that will test you more than anything you've done so far this week," Piper said, her expression thoughtful.
Lorne didn't want to agree openly but deep down he knew she was right ... hunting down the enemy when you knew they were out to hurt you or the people you were responsible for protecting was one thing. Deliberately trying to take down one of your own was another thing entirely. "It's all in the mind set," he told her confidently. "Besides, I'll be helping prepare people just like you guys for real combat ... and that I can get behind one hundred percent."
"True," Piper agreed. She'd known Lorne long enough to see that he was a born leader, mentor, teacher, whatever you wanted to call it. He was genuinely interested in facilitating everyone reaching their best potential and if he had an ego he kept it a lot more hidden than the average pilot.
"Captain?"
Lorne turned from Piper to see one of Major Daniel's aides wanting his attention. Daniel's was Lorne's commanding officer at Nellis Base so he assumed it was something to do with his usual role. "Yes?" he asked curiously.
"Major Daniel's would like to see you Sir," the junior officer said.
"Okay," Lorne turned back to Piper. "Make me proud up there," he told her before taking his leave.
"I heard about your plane Captain," Major Daniel's said when Lorne stepped into his office.
"Should be back in operation tomorrow Sir," Evan replied. "Is there something you'd like me to do this afternoon?"
"Since you can't fly with your squad Major Pace and I decided to offer you the opportunity to see the battle from a different perspective," Daniel's replied. "If you're interested?"
"Yes Sir," Lorne didn't let his surprise at the offer show. Assuming he was correct and he'd got himself a spot on the AWACS aircraft with Major Pace he had to wonder why. Not that he was complaining - he just wasn't sure when he'd come under the attention of the Red Flag leaders and if that was a good or bad thing.
"Report to Major Pace at 1200 hours," Daniel's said. "Your plane leaves at 1215 ... enjoy the ride."
"I will Sir," Lorne stood to attention without actually saluting. "Thank you Sir."
The AWACS was a hive of activity as Lorne made his way on board. After reporting in for duty and getting permission to come aboard Evan took a spot in a corner where he could see the main screen as well as observe the controllers in action and sat back quietly.
He'd thought that coordinating so many planes over such a large area would be an unenviable task - it was but at the same time these guys made it look easy. Sure it was active and busy but it was controlled ... smooth, efficient and pretty damn impressive. Each controller had responsibility for tracking specific aspects - working in sync they covered every aircraft and every inch of ground in the battle zone. Squads were shown in their respective colours, the graphics making it seem like some kind of complex computer game. The stakes were real and they were high - the Red Flag objective was to exceed the intensity of live combat situations for everyone involved, pilots, mechanics, ground crews and the like.
They had satellite imagery too - zooming in on the ground in response to information fed back from a number of sources it really was like being there.
Over the next two hours Lorne learned more about battle management than he'd learned in a hundred hours reading the texts. Strategy, backing up your men, reading the signs and acting on your instincts as to what the enemy was up to, being proactive as well as reactive, and above all protecting all your assets - from the enemy and from themselves. Losses happened on both sides ... the coloured jets of the friendly forces winking out of existence as their pilots were sent home, along with the red forces dropping from an engagement only to appear back in the sky somewhere else.
There were a couple of close calls, when one squad got too close to meeting another head on, but they were handled with professional ease and surety. Evan knew at the main debrief those incidents would be discussed and analysed to ensure the reasons for them were understood. For a pilot in control those mistakes couldn't happen again.
This time some of the squads were firing at ground targets ... Evan found himself practically grinning as he watched them shoot short bursts - in the air it would look like harmless puffs of smoke accompanied by the flares the pilots set off to mask their path away. Even the noise wouldn't truly reflect the power of those bullets - small pops absorbed quickly into the open sky. On the ground those bullet rounds pinged against an enemy tank, creating sparks. They were dropping bombs too - it was a sight to see them hit the ground one after the other on their way to the target, puffing up mini towers of dirt that culminated in a ball of fire bursting forth to engulf the target.
"What do you think?" Major Pace himself moved across to where Lorne sat to talk to him.
"I'm impressed Sir," Lorne made to rise, half standing before his superior officer waved him back at ease. "And I don't think I'll ever take the intel I get during a flight for granted again."
"Can you see yourself being in charge of something like this in the future?" Pace asked curiously, motioning to the twenty or so people and millions of dollars of technology under his command.
"Me Sir?" Lorne frowned, surprised at the question.
"You're interested in command, right?" Pace queried. "Major Daniel's mentioned the study you're doing."
"That's right Sir," Evan agreed. "Of course I'd like to get promoted eventually. I'd like a command position," he added modestly but honest. "I just never considered exactly what I'd be commanding."
"You've done well so far," the Major stated matter-of-factly. "It takes talent to be a pilot but not every pilot has what it takes to transition that to a command role out of the aircraft."
"I'd hope to still have a few years in the pilots seat yet Sir," Evan said, gratified that the other man seemed to be insinuating he did have what it took.
"And I'm sure you will," Pace smiled. "No harm in planning for the future ... I think you appreciate that."
"Yes Sir," Lorne agreed. When Major Pace nodded and made to move away, Evan felt compelled to add something. "Thank you Sir, for the opportunity to see the battle from up here. I think I learned more about command than I ever could in the classroom."
"You earned it," Pace said simply, moving back to wrap up the tail end of mission four.
Sitting back, Lorne pondered that for a moment. The only thing he could assume was that his record so far during the operation had been enough to get him the attention and the spot on the AWACS when his plane had turned up unflyable that morning. "Tanya was right," he thought with a mental shake of the head. "Everyone is keeping score!"