If anybody had told Ash that the twenty-seventh day of September ended with her squadron leader getting shot down, Yuktobania declaring war on Osea and their squadron taking part in four different operations, all in the span of eight hours, Ash would have laughed.
If only she had known what fate had in mind for her today.
September 27, 2010
Sand Island Air Force Base
Ash's day began at 0700, a little later than what she was used to, but warranted given that she had been on Alert 5 for almost all of yesterday. She woke up in the squadron room. Nagase, Chopper and Wolf were in the room. Nagase and Chopper were asleep, but Wolf was up and making a giant batch of coffee. Ash approached and jumped him by shaking his hips around.
"Morning, Blaze." Wolf greeted her indifferently. He poured Ash a cup before pouring himself one out.
"Damn it, I was hoping that'd get a rise out of you." Ash playfully teased Wolf.
"What, are you trying to make Samurai jealous?" Wolf shot Ash's teasing back at her.
"I-" Ash was flabbergasted. "Fuck you."
Wolf had a shit-eating grin on his face. "Don't throw shade at somebody who can send it back in spades."
"Anything new on the notice board?" Ash asked to change the topic.
"I was going to check after making coffee." Wolf replied. With a cup in hand he pulled out a laptop from its charging stand and logged in using his credentials. "Nothing for us."
"I'm not sure if I should be relieved or disappointed." Ash took a look at the most recent posts on their noticeboard. Sure enough, the newest entry was from a few days ago. Ash wolfed her coffee straight down and discarded the cup in the recycling bin. "I'm gonna have a shower, I'll be back in five."
"I'll be here." Wolf sat down with a laptop to do some reading as Ash disappeared into the locker room. One of the nice things about Sand Island and its facilities was that there were shower blocks included with the squadron rooms. Ash grabbed a change of work clothes and a towel, put them on a rack outside the shower booths, stripped down and got down in the booth. Although Ash rarely ever spent more than a couple of minutes showering, it felt nice to have the hot water remove the grime from her shoulders. She ran her fingers through her hair to remove any knots before turning the tap off and letting beads of water run down her back and shoulders. Ash grabbed her towel from outside the shower block, dried herself off, changed and left. As she was walking back, Ash ran into Nagase.
"Morning." Ash greeted Nagase as they passed each other.
"Morning." Nagase replied groggily.
"You sound like you just woke up." Ash commented on Nagase's slurred speech.
Nagase yawned. "You'd be right. I'm having a shower."
"Fair." Ash left Nagase be and returned to the main body of the squadron room. Chopper was now awake, chatting with Wolf. Ash was about to take a seat when a phone started ringing. As the most immediate senior-ranking officer in the room, Ash answered the call.
"First Lieutenant Paige, Wardog Squadron." Ash answered.
"Major Hamilton. Grab everyone who's up there and tell them to get down to Briefing 1." Hamilton was on the other end of the phone. Ash grit her teeth.
"Wilco. Are we deploying?" Ash enquired.
"Yes. Bring your kit." Hamilton answered.
"Understood, be there in a minute." Ash put the phone line back. "Guys, grab your shit, we've got a briefing downstairs."
"Didn't Edge literally just go to take a shower?" Chopper asked, completely ignoring the fact that they all had to attend that briefing.
"I'll go get her." Ash replied. They all entered the locker room, but Ash went into the women's shower block. "Kei, we've got a briefing to attend!"
"Oh shit." Nagase muttered. The shower head stopped flowing and Nagase poked her head out of the stall. "Can you pass me a towel?"
Ash grabbed one off a nearby hook and tossed it over the wall of the booth. For a fraction of a second Ash could see a sliver of Nagase's body through the opening in the door. She was cute.
"Thanks." Nagase disappeared back into the booth and Ash could hear her frantically drying herself off. "What's the occasion?"
"I dunno yet, but Hamilton said to bring our gear so I assume we've got an operation on our hands." Ash harboured a guess.
"Think it's got something to do with what happened yesterday?" Nagase asked. She stretched an arm from outside the booth to grab her uniform.
"The way things have been recently, it could be damn near anything." Ash conceded that she had no idea what today had in store for them. Nagase opened the booth door, fully dressed. Her hair was wet and slick. The duo went back to the lockers where they could collect and dress into their equipment. Once the two pilots were kitted, they went downstairs to Briefing Room One. Nagase walked in, followed by Ash. Inside the cool and dimly lit room full of chairs and desks, the entireity of what remained of Wardog Squadron was present, as well as Major Edwins and Master Sergeant Chaeny. Conspicuously, Colonel Perrault was absent.
"This is the last of Wardog." Ash said to Master Sergeant Chaeny as she passed by the senior non-commissioned officer. Once she had taken a seat and broken out her kneepad and pen, Chaeny started the briefing.
"A ship of unknown origin has been detected approaching the Sand Island coastline." Chaeny began. "This ship has been confirmed to be launching reconnaissance unmanned aerial vehicles in the area. These UAVs will likely return to the ship for recovery after completing their operations."
Ash wrote down the key points on her notepad. SHIP IN AREA LAUNCHING UAVS.
"Wardog Squadron is to halt this operation by intercepting and destroying these UAVs before they can return to their mothership. However, do not fire upon this ship unless otherwise authorised. Any questions?" Chaeny concluded the briefing.
Nagase raised her hand. "Are there any armed Yuktobanian assets in the area?"
"An aircraft carrier was recently detected west of the area of operations. We anticipate that if it's still around, its fighters could respond to a sortie within twenty to thirty minutes." Chaeny answered. Ash wrote that down. AIRCRAFT CARRIER - 20 MINUTE RESP TIME.
Nobody else had questions.
"Wardog, you're dismissed. Get out there."
WARDOG 1 / HEARTBREAK, GHOST / F-15E
WARDOG 2 / EDGE, HUNTER / F-15E
WARDOG 3 / CHOPPER, ZOOMER / F-15E
WARDOG 4 / BLAZE, SAMURAI / F-15E
In theory the mission was a piece of cake if they were solely up against Searcher reconnaissance drones, but realistically their opposition included up to thirty or forty fighter aircraft of the Su-35 and MiG-35 variety, odds that Blaze didn't particularly like seeing that they were only four aircraft strong. Still, having ten AIM-120C-7s and two AIM-9Xs slung under her aircraft gave Blaze an extra sense of confidence against any potential aggressor.
Formed up in a diamond formation with Bartlett at the lead and Blaze at the rear, with Chopper and Nagase filling in the flanks, they were closing on the drones. Under the flight of four was Two Year Island. Two Year Island was to the west of Sand Island proper. Its name was derived from how long the small airfield on it had been open for before its decommissioning - 1994 to 1996. Nowadays its purpose was as an emergency runway, but a glance at the runway told Blaze that it had evidently been affected by the missile strike on the twenty-fifth with how many craters lined the runway.
"There they are. Tally six on the radar between ten to one-o'clock." Samurai had spotted their mission targets.
"Wardog, this is Thunderhead. Recon vehicles returning to spy vessel! Shoot them down before they get back to the ship." Thunderhead called out the targets and their main objective.
"Sure thing." Bartlett acknowledged. "You got that, nuggets? Alright, let's go."
"Wardog 4, wilco, engaging." Blaze.
"Edge, engaging." Nagase.
"Chopper, engaging." Chopper.
Blaze locked up two of the drones on her targeting display and cycled to her AMRAAMs. The drones were thirty kilometres away, easily within the engagement envelope of the AIM-120.
"Blaze, fox 3, fox 3." Blaze called as two AMRAAMs dropped from pylons before engaging their boosters and shooting away from the Mudhen. They lofted upwards into the sky to punch through the thinner air to cruise more efficiently towards their targets.
"Chopper, fox 3!"
"Heartbreak, fox 3, fox 3."
"Edge, fox 3!"
There were no less than six missiles in the air from between the four Mudhens. Blaze kept her nose on the UAVs to keep them painted for the AMRAAMs. The AIM-120 had its own radar that it used for tracking targets, but they had the ability to perform course correction via the more powerful radars carried by their launcher aircraft to ensure more accurate tracking. This wasn't always practical, but in situations like the one Wardog Squadron found itself in, it was the ideal method to engaging low-threat aircraft.
Blaze watched the missile indicator on radar get closer and closer to the distant UAVs. Closer, closer, closer… boom. In the far distance Blaze noticed two black specks. The two UAVs she had targeted were no longer present on radar.
"Blaze, splash two." Blaze claimed the kills.
"Edge, splash one." Nagase had shot down one drone.
"Heartbreak, splash two." Bartlett had gotten a couple.
"Chopper, splash one!" Chopper got the sixth and final drone. "I'm glad there aren't any live people in these things. Aren't you guys?"
"Yeah, they're just really expensive toys." Blaze certainly was.
"So we can just shoot them down and not worry about it." Chopper said. Blaze knew it was an innocent jab at a joke, but to her it felt really morbid for some reason.
"All drones have been- wait." Thunderhead's tone of voice indicated that he had spotted something. "Warning, popup group of bogies, closing fast, bearing 280!"
"Ah jeez, how many planes do they have lined up over there?" Bartlett sounded irritated. "We got what we came for. Wardog, abort."
Blaze, Nagase and Bartlett all banked through a 180 degree circle back for Sand Island, but inexplicably Chopper hadn't gotten the idea until a few seconds later, placing him at the rear of the formation. Blaze pushed the throttle all the way forward to keep ahead of the popup group of six aircraft. A quick reference at the RWR told her that they were MiG-29s. More than likely MiG-29Ks, the carrier-based version.
"Ah shit, they're running me down!" Chopper complained with concern in his voice, not without reason with the Fulcrums rapidly approaching his position.
"Oh, did you choose the trail position today, Motormouth?" Bartlett joked. "Don't worry, I'll clear your six for ya. Wardog, weapons free, engage bandits."
Blaze didn't need to be told twice. She reversed her turn in the direction of the bogies-turned-bandits and lit them up on the radar, AMRAAMs ready at the press of a button. "Blaze, engaging. Fox 3, fox 3!"
Blaze engaged the closest two Fulcrums from a distance of twenty-five kilometres, a distance from which a kill was almost certainly guaranteed. The missiles tracked onto their targets as Blaze shifted who she was shooting at. She fired one more missile towards the Fulcrums further back in the stack, while Bartlett and Nagase fired at the other aircraft in the opposing force.
"Tracking… Wardog 4, splash three, splash four!" Samurai confirmed two more kills on radar.
"Good stuff. Heartbreak, splash three." Bartlett had bagged a third Fulcrum.
"Edge, splash two!" So had Nagase.
"Chopper, how's your tail looking?" Bartlett enquired of the muscle duo.
"Clear for now, we're engaging." Zoomer answered on Chopper's behalf. Chopper was bringing the aircraft around to engage the aircraft still on their tail.
"Chopper, fox 3! Defending!" Chopper damn near shouted. Blaze spotted him diving and turning away. Evidently he was being spiked by an R-77. "Fuck me, that was way too close!"
"Wardog 3, splash one!" Zoomer called out. That left one more Fulcrum to deal with. Given how quickly the situation had turned on the group of MiG-29Ks, the last fighter loosed off a couple of missiles before beating a hasty retreat. One of those missiles had Blaze's lucky number on it.
"Blaze, defending!" Blaze turned the Mudhen so it was moving perpendicular to the missile's direction of travel, in part to reduce her radar cross section by presenting the side of her aircraft to the missile, but mostly to get away from the point from which it would go active from. Blaze's gambit worked. The missile went active, didn't see anything in its seeker cone and went straight until it ran out of fuel and took a dive into the ocean.
"Second popup group, bearing 280, range 100! Four MiG-29 Kilos!" Thunderhead alerted Wardog to the presence of a second group of Fulcrums.
"Looks like they want to play, Major." Hamilton commented on the approach of four more fighters.
"Then let's give them a kick up the ass. Wardog, engage!"
Wardog Squadron formed a line abreast, four aircraft wide. Each selected a target and fired.
"Blaze, fox 3, fox 3!" Blaze fired off two AMRAAMs.
"Chopper, fox 3." Chopper fired one.
"Heartbreak, fox 3, fox 3." Bartlett fired two.
"Edge, fox 3, fox 3!" Nagase fired two as well. Seven AMRAAMs versus four Fulcrums. Terrible odds for the Fulcrums. Bizarrely, the Fulcrums didn't immediately run and retreat. They closed the distance some twenty kilometres before letting off a combined barrage of six R-77s.
"I think we just pissed them off!" Samurai observed the tracking of no less than three R-77s on their one aircraft.
"Blaze, defending!" Blaze turned away from the missiles, gained altitude and ran like hell. Her afterburners roared.
"Four tracking on us!" Samurai called.
"Fucking christ on a stick!" Blaze wasn't amused that at least three of the Fulcrums had decided to target her specifically. Pushing Mach 2, she continued to increase the distance that the R-77s had to close to catch up. At such long distances, this was asking a lot of a rocket-powered missile like the R-77. Sure enough, the missiles ran out of juice before they came anywhere close to reaching Blaze and her F-15E.
"Splash three- correction, four. Wardog, the picture is clear. All hostile aircraft have been destroyed." Thunderhead advised the squadron that there were no other aircraft in the immediate vicinity still airborne.
"I'm still getting lit up by something. Where is it?" Nagase called. Blaze could hear the RWR spike in Nagase's cockpit over the radio.
"Look out, they're below us!" Ghost called, a microsecond too late for Nagase to register.
"Edge, defending!" Edge blurted out. Blaze cranked her aircraft back towards the rest of her squadron. The fuck is- it was the ship. The catamaran vessel that they had spotted yesterday, the very same ship that they had been advised not to engage in this sortie. Nagase was being engaged by an SA-N-9 Gauntlet missile, a navalised version of the Tor medium-range SAM system.
"Dumping chaff!" Hamilton popped chaff canisters to confuse the missile's tracker.
"It's still tracking!" Nagase was panicking. "Shitshitshit-"
"Nagase, break left!" Bartlett's calm voice came over the radio.
"Breaking left!" Nagase turned sharp to port in compliance with Bartlett's directions. Blaze regained visual on the whole situation just in time to see Bartlett cut in front of the missile's path. It lost Nagase's aircraft for long enough to break the lock. Now it was chasing after Bartlett. Bartlett dropped chaff canisters and dumped flares while pulling crazy hard turns to break the missile's lock, but ultimately to no avail. The missile's proximity detonator detected that it was close to something and detonated. That something was the rear section of Bartlett's Mudhen. Blaze saw a smoke trail emanating from Bartlett's engines.
"Wardog 1 is hit. That didn't feel good." Bartlett commented in calm spirits.
"Major!" Nagase called out.
"Hey, save the waterworks. I'm losing engine power. We're gonna bail out here." Bartlett declared. Blaze cursed and bit her lip. "Make a call to scramble the search and rescue chopper, and my reserve plane, okay?"
"Wilco, sir." Blaze said quietly.
"Take a chill pill Blaze, we'll be back in no time!" Ghost said cheerfully from the back seat of Bartlett's smoking Mudhen.
"Alright Ghost, lets get out of here." Bartlett declared shortly before the radio went silent.
"Eyes on two chutes. They're out safely." Hamilton saw Bartlett and Ghost's chutes deploy. The F-15E glided on what little energy it had left before hitting the ocean surface, coming to a complete stop, and then sinking below the ocean surface. Wardog 1 was down.
"Fuck." Blaze took a breath to recompose herself. "Wardog 1 is down."
"You're the most senior officer, kid." Chopper reminded Blaze. "You good?"
"Yeah I'll be fine." Blaze reassured both Chopper and herself. "Thunderhead, Wardog 4 is taking command."
"Wardog Squadron, return to base immediately to refuel and rearm!" Thunderhead, out of the blue, rang in with a dead serious tone, something that caught Blaze off-guard.
"But the rescue helicopter isn't-" Nagase interjected.
"Leave that to the rescue team! Get back here and rearm! Yuktobania just declared war on us!" Thunderhead declared.
Blaze had to do a double take.
"They what?"