The identity of the bandits wasn't in question for very long. The radio crackled, and their AWACS' voice came through clear. "Brimstone, the Feds are transmitting on an open channel… sure sounds like your Peacekeeper pals."
"Good," Cerberus' voice dripped with the exact fury and hatred such a callsign would evoke. "Then it ends here. Today."
"Look around, buddy." Merlin flicked his radio to the open frequency. "Not many other chances to end this." He sighed. "Well… let's hear 'em out."
"I hope you're listening, Mercenaries." The Magadanian-accented voice on the other side of the radio was suave, self-assured. "I always knew you would end this way." The Peacekeeper chuckled to himself.
The pilot didn't give him the benefit of a response.
"I've had no greater satisfaction than to watch you cowards turn tail and run." The smug smirk on his face could be heard through the radio. "Watch your step… you may trip on the corpses you left in your wake."
"Well, that's him, alright." Merlin grumbled. "I've heard enough of that condescending bastard for two lifetimes now. Why don't we shut him up, huh?"
"Yeah," the pilot replied. "I could go for that."
"Let's fuck 'em up."
The F/C-15s and the Flankers burned towards each other, the distance closing as they entered into weapons range.
"Fight's on," Merlin said, a steely determination entering his voice.
The pilot replied. "Fight's on." He thumbed the selector switch to MLAA and watched as the locks sprung to life on his radar's display. This was about to turn into a furball, he knew, and he didn't want to be carrying six MLAAs when it did. "Brimstone 1," he said, pushing in the button on the stick. "Fox three by four."
"Good separation, Cerberus," Copperhead radioed in. "But we won't be sticking 'round much longer. We're headed south, n'you two are moving out of our radar range." The AWACS operator sighed. "Hate to hang ya out to dry, but them's the breaks. We'll be out of range in… about a minute and a half."
"Shit," Merlin said. "Well, that's just great. Brimstone 2, Fox three by three."
The sky was blanketed in missiles, mercenary and Federation alike, as the two sides went defensive, dumping chaff in their wake, the harsh sunset reflecting off the metal ribbons. "Holy fuck," the AWACS said. "They just dumped twenty-four MLAAs at you on varying tracks. They're trying to overlap no-escape zones. Ya better break, if ya know what's good for ya."
"Clever bastards," the pilot replied. "Haul ass, Merlin."
"Little close for comfort," the other mercenary's missile alarms bled through the radio. "Lemme focus."
Cerberus turned his attention to his own warning receiver, and watched as the annular warhead of a MLAA missile only narrowly missed his plane. Missiles sailed by, rocking his plane with shockwaves. The AWACS' Oceanian accent only barely managed to outcompete the sound of explosions for his attention. "Looks like you trashed 'em, Brimstone. Close one. Unfortunately, this is where we part ways. Good hunting, lads."
"See ya on the other side, Copperhead." Merlin snapped off a cocky salute, even though he knew the AWACS couldn't see him.
The fight had inched ever closer, his radar warning receiver alerting him to another batch of MLAAs inbound. Don't want to be on the back foot going into the merge, he thought, firing off another salvo of MLAAs and calling out for his wingman, "Brimstone One, fox three by two. Brimstone One skosh!" But we don't have much of a choice.
His wingman had done the same, the two Eagles clean of active-guidance missiles. They turned, dumping chaff in their wake, diving for the backscatter of the ground. When they had trashed their missiles, they pulled up and broke their formation, checking their radars.
"Shit, Cerberus. We splashed two of 'em! Who was that, ya think?" Merlin smirked, thumbing the selector switch to let the whine of infrared-guided missiles fill his headset.
"Don't know," the pilot replied. "Don't care. Long as I get the bastard-in-chief."
The other mercenary chuckled. "We'll split the credit on those two. I'll leave the lead to you, buddy."
"Of course." The open channel echoed with the anger of the Federation Peacekeeper. "Was the blood of three of Magadan's finest sons and daughters not enough?" Cobalt One scoffed. "But I look at what you did to your own nation… and I remember. The oceans themselves could not quench your thirst."
"God, I hate it when they monologue," Merlin mumbled. "It's so… so, annoying."
The pilot on the other end of the radio had no plans of stopping. "How much did that earn you? I hope they already paid. Would you really have bloodied your hands so with nothing to show for it, Mercenary?"
He preempted his more talkative wingman with a sigh. "Shut ya' trap, Merlin." Cerberus said. "Don't feed 'em."
"Damn," Merlin replied. "I was in the mood to talk shit. Entering the merge. Let's show these Fed assholes some fireworks."