Following the mostly successful operation that was the defence of Sand Island, the natural order of progression for the carriers involved in the operation would be to return to Saint Hewlett to take on replacement aircraft and pilots.
In typical fashion, the OFS Kestrel's follow-on orders were the exact opposite of that.
Carrier Air Wing Ten, the component air unit assigned to the Kestrel, was down to less than half of its effective combat strength. Flying into heavily defended enemy airspace with less than twenty Hornets, Super Hornets and Growlers to their name was the last thing Swordsman wanted to do, but according to an officer from the Office of Naval Intelligence who had been flown onboard all the way from the mainland to conduct their mission briefing, this target was high priority, time sensitive and needed pilots on scene to perform BDA.
Logic be damned, the remaining aircraft from the Snowbirds, Cowboys, Templars and Headhunters were given the green light to launch.
6 OCT 2010
Eastern Yuktobania
BIG BIRD 102 / SWORDSMAN / F/A-18E
BIG BIRD 110 / GOLDILOCKS, DEADEYE / F/A-18F
BIG BIRD 111 / HARDY / F/A-18E
SCOUT 501 / FREAKSHOW / E/A-18G
SCOUT 502 / GHOUL / E/A-18G
SCOUT 505 / WOODSTOCK / E/A-18G
TEMPLAR 404 / TAIPAN / F/A-18E
TEMPLAR 405 / JOLLY / F/A-18E
TEMPLAR 407 / PADDY / F/A-18E
TEMPLAR 409 / GINA / F/A-18E
REDNECK 301 / LEATHERNECK / F/A-18C
REDNECK 302 / GRUNT / F/A-18C
REDNECK 115 / LANNISTER / F/A-18C
According to an informant buried within Yuktobania that was passing sensitive information to the OIA, a very high ranking officer of the Yuktobanian Army was making a visit to a black site owned by the Yuke's equivalent of the OIA in Vrivasta, a town some forty kilometres inland from the Ceres Ocean and on the same latitude as Sand Island.
Apparently, just blanketing the area in enough Tomahawks and JASSMs to make Hoffnung look like a joke wasn't acceptable, the higher powers physically needed eyes on the site. To that end, the Kestrel's air wing commander and the surviving squadron leaders had come up with a plan. Crusader and Cowboy Squadrons would carry cruise missiles and launch an initial attack on the base. The Snowbirds would follow up the missile attack with a low level bomb run. Headhunter Squadron would be attacking a nearby SAM installation and providing jamming throughout the operation. As always, Owl Hunter was the strike force's eyes and ears.
"Good morning aviators, this is your overlord speaking." Owl Hunter began the check in procedure. "All squadrons, report status."
"Big Birds, all green." Swordsman spoke for his guys.
"Scouts, ready to hit the music."
"Rednecks, green, green, green."
"Templars, ready to go."
"Roger that. Wait out." Owl Hunter was no doubt reporting this information back to the carrier. "All squadrons, Owl Hunter, carry on."
The carrier group was outside of coastal missile battery range, but any mainline Yuktobanian missile carrier could have taken off from any number of bases on the east coast and be within effective firing distance of the carrier. Likewise, the moment the Osean strike force was picked up by enemy radar installations, airborne MiG-31s would be vectored to intercept them. Appropriately, they were sticking as low to the ocean surface as was humanly possible to avoid long-range detection. The idea was that the Crusaders and Cowboys would break high, get their missiles away and then retreat.
"Owl Hunter, bogey dope." Swordsman asked for information on any aircraft in the area.
"Picture clear." Owl Hunter replied. The skies were clear for now. Swordsman did his best to remain comfortable before they kicked the hornet's nest.
"Launch mark, sixty seconds." Freakshow rattled off. The missile carriers in the formation were a minute away from their launch mark. Swordsman maintained his heading. Once they hit the launch mark, the missile carriers executed their plan.
"Templars, Rednecks, shoot, shoot, shoot." Owl Hunter gave the order. Their seven Legacy Hornets and Super Hornets shot up to gain altitude for an optimal missile shoot. Swordsman, his guys and the Scouts remained glued to the deck as the Templars and the Rednecks got their weapons away.
"Templar 404, greyhound two!"
"Redneck 301, greyhound, greyhound."
There was a slight glow that radiated from the turbojet engines of the JASSM missiles as they deployed from their platforms and moved forwards towards their target. The missile carriers peeled away from the remainder of the strike force and withdrew towards the Kestrel.
"Good separation." Redneck 301 noted. "Swordsman, your ship."
"Roger, my ship." Swordsman replied. As the most senior officer between the squadrons, he took over mission command for the rest of the trip. Land-based radars and Yuktobanian AWACS platforms would have detected the Templars and Rednecks as they made their climb. Swordsman was sure that gears were turning at the various control and command centres. Regardless, confident that Owl Hunter would spot any incoming interceptors as soon as they entered radar range, the bomb carriers pressed on. As a faint hint of blue splashed out across the sky, Swordsman spotted a protrusion on the horizon. The Yuktobanian mainland.
"Hey Swordsman." Hardy, Big Bird 111, piped up. "Would this mission make us the first Osean pilots to fly over the Yuktobanian mainland?"
"I dunno. Owl Hunter, what do you think?" Swordsman bounced the question to their overwatch.
"In this conflict? Probably. Haven't heard anything in the news about other strikes." Owl Hunter put forward his thoughts.
"Heh." Hardy chuckled.
"Alright, knuckle up." Swordsman was suddenly all serious. "Big Birds, feet dry, entering route hawkeye."
"Roger that. Starting the clock." Owl Hunter replied.
"Scouts, feet dry." Freakshow reported. Their Growler escorts were following close behind the Super Hornets. They passed over a mountain and down low over forests and grassland that made up much of the coastline. There was a river that they used to mask themselves against the terrain, but that river turned away from their objective. As the river terminated, Freakshow and his wingman Woodstock split away from the strike force.
"Scout 501 and 505 away. Good huntin'." Freakshow bid Swordsman and his guys farewell as the Growlers separated to hit their objective, the twin afterburners of the two aircraft lighting up the early morning skies. Swordsman, his two wingmen and the third member of Scout, Ghoul, continued.
"Big Birds, vectoring in from Point Corvid, six hundred knots, heading 255." Swordsman reported. They were entering the attack corridor. As they passed over at low altitude, Swordsman could see a faint orange glow emanating from a group of buildings. The JASSMs had hit their mark.
"All flights, Owl Hunter, cleared hot, cleared hot." Owl Hunter gave the order. They were in the clear to engage the target. The Super Hornets formed a column with a hundred metre's separation in between them. Ghoul broke high, away from the bomber column. Under the wings of the three Super Hornets were Mark 82 Snakeeye low-level general-purpose bombs, eight of them per aircraft. A variation of the normal Mark 82, the Snakeeye kit added a tail section fitted with airbrakes to slow down the bombs for aircraft deploying them in low-level attack
Swordsman lined up his approach with the target, flipping switches so that his HUD was showing the predicted zone of impact for the correct weapon. The target was marked as a triangle on the HUD. The target came closer. Swordsman released the mastersafe and put the marker on the burning building complex.
"Swordsman, bombs away!" Swordsman released all eight bombs at the same time, pushing forward the throttle and yanking back on the stick.
"Hardy, bombs away!" Hardy dropped his weapons, pulling hard left.
"Gold, pickle, pickle, pickle!" Goldilocks dropped her weapons, breaking hard right away from the impact zone. The tail kits on the bombs deployed as they fell, dramatically slowing them down and giving Goldilocks enough time to get out of the blast radius before they made impact. The complex, composed of a parking lot, a warehouse and an office building, went up in a cloud of rubble and fire. Whatever had been spared by the cruise missile strike had been annihilated by the sheer explosive power of twenty-four bombs.
"I don't mean to sound preemptive." Ghoul, Scout 502, piped up. "But I think we got him."
"Deadeye?" Swordsman asked the WSO of Big Bird 112, the man operating that aircraft's target guidance pod.
"Shack on the target." Deadeye replied. "No discernable vehicle movement. Overlord is KIA. I say again, Overlord is KIA."
"Alright." Swordsman fist bumped the air. Their main objective was complete. However, they still had to get out of the area. From over a nearby mountain, Freakshow and Woodstock arrived, having completed their objective.
"Scouts are here." Freakshow spoke as they arrived overhead. "Whacked those fuckin' SA-10s, we should be good to get outta dodge."
"Uh-oh." Owl Hunter uncharacteristically muttered. "Swordsman, three bandits 330 from bullseye, 400, Angels 40, closing fast."
Swordsman checked his RWR. Nothing.
"Type?" Swordsman asked. He had a feeling it was something fast.
"Most likely Foxhounds." Owl Hunter replied. "Get out of there Big Bird, they're coming for you."
"Copy." Swordsman turned away from their target. "Scouts, Big Birds, egress east. Freakshow, can you spoof those 31s?"
"Can do, bossman." Freakshow replied. "Today's track selection is Firework by Katy Perry. They know we're here, but they can't see shit."
"Good enough for me, punch it." Swordsman ordered. No longer restrained by bomb weight, the Hornet pilots hit the deck and accelerated away from the intercepting MiG-31 Foxhounds. Three new markers came up on the RWR. 31. Definitely Foxhounds. They were on a course towards the source of the radar jamming at well over Mach 2, much faster than the piddly Mach 1 the Oseans could manage. The Foxhounds would be within IR missile range before the Rhinos were under the umbrella of the Kestrel's escort's air cover.
"We're not gonna make it in time." Swordsman said as much. He broke away from his flight and turned towards the enemy interceptors.
"Where the fuck are you going, Swordsman?" Freakshow asked as the Growler pilot passed by the Rhino pilot.
"Buying time." Swordsman stated.
"Not on your own you're not." Freakshow retorted, pulling out of formation and flying west to assist the tacky squad lead. "You have a plan?"
"Yeah." Swordsman made ready an AMRAAM. "Attack."
Instead of running away, Swordsman was closing the distance between himself and the Foxhounds. With Freakshow's jamming assistance, Swordsman could get in close and throw missiles at the enemy to get them to break their course without being targeted back in the process. It didn't take long to enter firing range with their approach speeds. Swordsman locked up the lead MiG-31.
"Swordsman, fox 3!" Swordsman got a missile away. He continued his approach until he got an indication that the Foxhounds were defensive against the AMRAAM. Once he got that confirmation, Swordsman pulled out, dragging Freakshow along with him.
"Swordsman, the Rednecks are covering your retreat. Get out of there." Owl Hunter instructed.
"Rog, movin'." Swordsman replied. He certainly wasn't complaining, given the possibility that the entire Yuktobanian Air Force would soon be after his ass. The Foxhounds were evading and unable to push their intercept. Soon enough, Swordsman and Freakshow made it out to sea.
"Feet wet."
They weren't quite out of harm's way yet, but reaching the ocean put them across the halfway mark. Swordsman sure as hell wasn't slowing the fuck down, even though the enemy was firmly eating his dust. Swordsman referenced the datalink. The combined four members of the Snowbirds and the Headhunters were well ahead, in the protective arms of the Cowboys.
"Did you get 'em, Swordsman?" Swordsman heard the mocking voice of Redneck 301, their squadron leader.
"Hope so." Swordsman remarked. He doubted it, but he had definitely given somebody a scare. Redneck 301 chuckled as Swordsman passed him by. He, Freakshow and the other members of their squads were returning to the carrier to rearm. They would be going back up in the air soon. Somebody was going to notice the presence of a carrier so close to the Yuktobanian coast.