1 November 2010
Sand Island Air Force Base
Ash was sitting at her desk when the phone started ringing. Without looking at the phone she picked up the line.
"Captain Paige, Wardog Squadron." Ash answered.
"Master Sergeant Chaeny. Assemble your squadron with kit and report to Briefing 1." Chaeny, the briefing SNCO, was on the other end of the line.
"Wilco, we'll be two." Ash put down the phone. "Wardog! Kit, Briefing 1!"
The guys and gals had this process down to a science. Within two minutes six of the squadron's seven members were sitting down in the dim light of the briefing room. On the projector in front of them was an image of the Bastok Peninsula, or rather the western neck of the peninsula. Ash had her kneeboard and pen out, ready to write down the mission details.
"Overnight, Yuktobanian forces have been launching intermediate range ballistic missiles towards Osean garrisons on the Bastok Peninsula." Chaeny kickstarted the briefing. "These attacks have been launched by roaming patrols of Tochka and Iskander missile carriers from well behind Yuktobanian lines. Osean ground forces have been able to deal with Tochka launch vehicles, but the Iskanders have been more difficult to counter."
While Chaeny took a second to breathe, Ash made sure she had the mission details written down correctly.
"To this end, coordinating with friendly electronic warfare and J-STARS assets, your mission is to sortie past the front line to hunt down and destroy these Iskander launch vehicles." Chaeny continued. "The majority of launches have been detected in this killbox off a major highway network, two hundred square miles in size. J-STARS will be your eyes for this operation. We have confirmed the presence of at least twenty launchers. It is your objective to destroy these twenty launchers as well as any additionals. Any questions?"
A firm silence throughout the room, interrupted only by the scribbling of pens.
"Very well. You are to depart immediately, briefing adjourned."
The aircrews of Wardog 1 through 4 made their way out of the building and towards the flight line. They were joined by an already kitted Pops on the way.
"Where were you, Pops?" Nagase asked as the old man joined the group.
"Had to check up on something on the flight line." Pops replied. He looked to Blaze. "I take it we've got a new mission."
"Scud hunting." Blaze answered. "Long day ahead."
"Quite. On you, Captain."
The squadron of seven people arrived at the flight line. Grimm was about to hop up into the cockpit of his F-16C when he noticed a new marking on the nose of the Viper. He took a quick glance at the marking. It was a green star with the silhouette of a Felon in the middle, cut in half. Grimm smiled, shook his head and clambered up into the cockpit.
The noise of four jets starting up at once was deafening but expected, merely a daily occurrence to everyone involved in flight operations. As soon as everybody was properly started up, Blaze led Wardog out and towards Yuktobania.
WARDOG 1 / BLAZE, SAMURAI / F-15E
WARDOG 2 / CHOPPER, ZOOMER / F-15E
WARDOG 3 / EDGE, CORVUS / F-15E
WARDOG 4 / ARCHER / F-16C
Elsewhere, in Yuktobania, two of Wardog's members bashed through thick bush and over swamplands.
"Fuck this fucking mud." Ghost grumbled as he and his squad lead, Bartlett, slowly made their way through the sticky, humid atmosphere of the swamp. Bartlett said nothing. Both men were seriously unkempt, their facial hair growing out, their uniforms discoloured from the constant abuse and the sweat that was caked into their olive drab flight suits and their figures looking considerably smaller compared to when they had entered the drink back in September. All in all, they had been on the move for almost a month.
"Chin up Ghost, we're almost there." Bartlett mumbled after ducking under a tree, AK-12 in his hands. Ghost had a similar looking rifle slung around his back.
"Since we're almost there, you mind divulging just who we're looking for?" Ghost asked, jumping over the tree as opposed to ducking under it. "You've been silent on that since we started moving this way."
"Alright." Bartlett nodded. "We're looking for one Nastasya Obertas. Last I heard, she still resides in Cinigrad."
"Nastasya, right." Ghost spat something out. "Who is she?"
"An old friend. A Major in the Yuktobanian Army." Bartlett replied flatly. Ghost sputtered and deadpanned at him.
"Why are we walking into the arms of a Yuke soldier?!" Ghost was utterly bewildered. Bartlett stopped, spun on his heels and glanced at Ghost.
"I have a hunch that she'll help us out." Bartlett answered. "Besides, do you have a better idea?"
"No I don't." Ghost replied flatly.
"Then shut up and follow my lead." Bartlett said, spinning on his heels and continuing their march.
"Yes sir." Ghost grumbled to himself, following closely on Bartlett's heels.
"Hitman, Wardog 1, radio check, over." Back towards the coastline, Blaze, Chopper, Nagase and Grimm had arrived over Yuktobanian soil.
"Wardog 1, Hitman, lima charlie." Hitman, the callsign of the E-8 Joint STARS observation aircraft meant to be Wardog's eyes and ears for the operation, confirmed that they could hear Wardog over the radio. "Hope the trip wasn't too long."
"Every trip is an adventure." Blaze joked, earning a quiet giggle from Samurai. "We're at your six o'clock, merging in three minutes."
"Hitman copies, Wardog. We currently observe no enemy targets. Follow us heading 240." Hitman gave them a heading that'd take them into the killbox where the various Iskanders were believed to be located.
"Roger, 240." Blaze replied. She and Wardog closed the distance until they were flying fingertip with Hitman and their escorts: two EF-111 Ravens and two F-15C Eagles. The Ravens were flying alongside them to provide jamming against Yuktobanian anti-air, while the Eagles would be providing air cover for the air to ground ordnance laden Wardog and the massive target that was Hitman.
Flying west over the Osean occupied Bastok Peninsula, it didn't take long for Hitman to detect something well before they got into the killbox.
"Wardog, Hitman. Picking up two Iskanders at 360 klicks, bearing 227. Looks like they're on the move due west." Hitman reported two contacts to Wardog.
"Roger, Wardog is outbound 227 to attack targets." Blaze declared. Wardog Squadron and one of the EF-111s broke off from Hitman, increasing speed to get up close to the target. Blaze started picking up a variety of different search radars on her RWR, everything from Tor and Pantsir short range systems up to S-400 batteries with extreme firing ranges. Fortunately, for whatever reason none of them locked up or fired at Wardog.
Blaze looked down at the target pod display. Samurai was scanning around for the two Iskanders. Thus far, no joy. Or so Blaze thought.
"Tally target." Samurai said. Blaze made a double take at the target pod screen and squinted. Her WSO was right, the two Iskanders were just barely visible at maximum zoom. Blaze lined up the Mudhen with the Iskanders and pushed forward the throttle.
"Wardog 2, engaging two Iskanders." Blaze reported, zooming off to close the distance on the targets. In the back seat, Samurai was fiddling with the seeker cone for the AGM-65 Mavericks under their wings. The Maverick was an air-to-ground missile, one of the most common missiles of its type in Osean service. The specific model they had brought with them today, AGM-65Ks, had a large dual purpose blasting penetrator and was guided by a joint IR/electro-optical seeker.
"Both targets locked." Samurai called forward to Blaze. Blaze keyed the Mavericks and curled her finger around the trigger.
"Wardog 1, Rifle, Rifle." Blaze called out, letting two Mavericks off the pylons. The missiles shot out towards their targets. Mavericks were fire and forget weapons. Blaze banked away and slowed down to watch the target pod feed as the Iskanders unwittingly came closer to their deaths. Thirty seconds passed… bang. One after the other, both launcher vehicles were blown to pieces.
"Wardog 1, two launch vehicles destroyed." Blaze reported her kills. "Hitman, any signs of the other launchers?"
"Nothing so far, Wardog. I'll let you know when we see something." Hitman replied from the interior of the air conditioned Joint STARS cabin. Blaze was almost jealous. Nevertheless, she carried on.
"Chopper, let's split this AO so we can cover more ground." Blaze decided. "Take Archer and move out to the northern end of the killbox. Me and Edge will cover the southern end."
"Roger that, kid. Alright mister Felon ace, mark my tail." Chopper followed Blaze's orders to the letter, taking Grimm and falling out to the northern half of the killbox. Similarly, Blaze and Nagase diverted south. As they entered the perimeter of the killbox, Hitman spotted something with its radar.
"Wardog 2, Hitman, two launchers detected stationary. 340 relative for 220." Hitman reported. Without skipping a beat he made a second contact report. "Wardog 1, two moving launchers detected, bearing 196 for 140, tracking north-west."
"Wardog 2, roger, moving to intercept." Chopper rattled off.
"Wardog 1, copy, heading 196 for 140." Blaze did the same, changing her heading to go after the newly detected Iskanders. As they got to within visual range, Samurai started scanning for the two eight by eight trucks.
"Tally on the pod." Samurai called out. "On the nose."
"Seen, lock 'em up." Blaze replied. With a few button pushes, the seeker heads of the Mavericks were firmly locked on the two Iskanders. Spotting the relevant symbology in her HUD, Blaze put her finger over the trigger and fired.
"Wardog 1, Rifle, Rifle." Blaze declared, banking away from the Iskanders and watching the target pod feed intently, waiting to see the two launchers burst into flames. Sure enough, less than a minute later the two missiles arrived on point. One of the two disappeared in a massive cloud of smoke and flame. That vehicle must have had a missile loaded on rails. "Two Iskanders destroyed."
"Wardog 4, Rifle two!" On the other end of the killbox, Grimm was the one firing Mavericks. There was a thirty second pause. "Splash two, splash two Iskanders."
Six out of twenty Iskanders out for the count. Now it was a matter of getting deeper into the killbox and waiting for Hitman to get closer so that their radar array could scan a wider area. It was also a matter of patiently waiting for the other Iskanders to come out of whatever concealed positions they were in so that Hitman could detect them in the first place.
"Wardog 2, Hitman, one Iskander detected, bearing 050, range 40." Hitman alerted Chopper and Grimm of the presence of another target. "Correction, make that two Iskanders."
"Roger, Chopper and Archer moving to destroy." Chopper replied. From the other end of the killbox, Blaze watched their movement on the datalink screen. Chopper and Grimm circled around to get after the targets. Grimm started descending slowly, most likely because he was putting his nose on the target.
"Wardog 4, Rifle two!" Grimm declared. Evidently he was the shooter again. There was a brief pause while the Mavericks travelled the distance to the targets. "Splash two, splash two."
Things were looking up so far. Barely ten minutes into reaching the AO and they had already knocked out almost half of the target list. Unfortunately that was where the waiting game came into play. The Yuktobanians had figured out that somebody was targeting the launch vehicles and was keeping them in place, concealed. Wardog Squadron ran around in circles doing their own independent searches for ten minutes until Hitman piped up once more.
"Wardog 1, Hitman. Tally one Iskander, stationary, 174 for 50." Hitman reported a new target position.
"Wardog 1 copies." Blaze replied. She looked over her shoulder to Samurai. "Looks like they're operating in pairs. Keep an eye out for a second launcher."
"やるよ。(Will do.)" Samurai mumbled. Blaze brought herself and Nagase over to the area where the next target had been sighted.
"Blaze, I'm picking up a couple of vehicles on radar. Something big, really big." Nagase informed her flight lead. Evidently she had her Mudhen's radar active in the air to ground search mode. Blaze was going to switch on her radar, but there was no need.
"Eyes on two Iskanders." Samurai spoke up. "Mavericks locked."
Blaze put her finger on the trigger and fired. "Wardog 1, Rifle, Rifle."
As Blaze's two Mavericks shot off into the distance, Nagase spoke up again. "Blaze, I'm seeing four… five Iskander launch vehicles in those woods."
Blaze cracked her neck. "Wait for my Mavericks to hit their targets and then engage any survivors you see on the ground."
"Wilco." Nagase replied, pulling away from Blaze to come around and put herself on a more ideal attack heading. In the distance, Blaze saw flashes that were followed by rolling pillars of black smoke.
"Wardog 3, in." Nagase declared, nosing down onto the targets. "Wardog 3, rifle, rifle, rifle!"
In one salvo Nagase fired three of her eight Mavericks, all of which independently acquired their targets and shot off towards them. Nagase exited the attack heading and linked back up with Blaze, merging on the latter's right wing as three more columns of smoke rose upwards into the air .
"Splash five Iskanders, I say again, splash five Iskanders." Blaze declared, reporting both hers and Nagase's kills. That added up to thirteen out of twenty launch vehicles. Now they had the not-insignificant task of finding the last seven. Blaze spent five minutes waiting, flying around in a box search pattern up and down the killbox with the Mudhen's radar scanning the ground. Samurai did manual scans of the local area with the target pod. Judging by the movement of the LITENING pod underneath Nagase's aircraft, Pops was similarly looking for the launchers.
"Wardog 2, Hitman, two Iskanders detected bearing 200, range 200, moving west." Hitman finally spotted another set of launch vehicles.
"Wardog 2 copies, outbound 200 for 200 to search and destroy." Chopper replied. "Wardog 2 will be engaging."
Blaze chuckled. It seemed like Chopper wanted a chance to shoot at something himself.
"Launchers now moving south on the highway." Hitman updated the headings of the two launch vehicles. In the long run it didn't matter which way they were heading, Chopper and Grimm caught up to, spotted and fired at them.
"Chopper, Rifle, Rifle." Chopper declared, putting two Mavericks in the air. A surprisingly short period of time later, the two Mavericks must have hit. "Two Iskanders destroyed! Fifteen out of twenty!"
"Other five will have to wait for now." A previously unheard voice spoke up. "Wardog, this is Javelin 1, picking up four Fulcrums north of our position heading right for us."
Javelin 1 was one of the two F-15Cs escorting Hitman. Hearing their request for support, Blaze turned away from the killbox and started heading for the J-STARS aircraft. Nagase followed her. The two were at least five minutes away from making visual contact with Hitman, but Chopper and Grimm were at most a couple of minutes to their north-west.
"Chopper, Grimm, punch your Mavericks and tanks and support Javelin." Blaze correspondingly gave Wardogs 2 and 4 an order to assist the Eagles.
"Punching and moving." Chopper replied. Blaze observed on the datalink as they turned towards Javelin Flight and picked up speed to get there. Blaze dropped her Mudhen's external fuel tanks in an effort to reduce weight and drag in order to pick up speed.
"Javelin 1, Fox 3."
"Javelin 2, Fox 3."
The two Eagles started firing at the approaching Fulcrums with their loadout of AMRAAMs. Not a moment too soon, Chopper and Grimm joined in on the fun.
"Wardog 2, Fox 3."
"Wardog 4, Fox 3!"
Being caught in a crossfire was almost universally a fatal mistake. That constant applied to beyond visual range combat, and it was twice as deadly when the pilots on the receiving end of the crossfire evaded into some of the incoming missiles. The enemy Fulcrums were displayed on Blaze's datalink display as red triangles, two of them had done a complete reversal and were speeding away from the two Osean fighter groups, but the other two were evading into Javelin Flight's two Eagles. She watched as the display for those two Fulcrums reported both aircraft getting low and fast. As the Eagle's AMRAAMs pitbulled - acquired a lock on the two fighters using their onboard radars - the Fulcrums made last ditch evasive manoeuvres to evade the nearby missiles, ultimately to no avail.
"Lead MiGs lost from radar." Chopper pointed out. "Looks like the other two are running for the hills."
"That makes three of us." Hitman sounded off. "Wardog, we're moving out of the area to avoid air threats. 15 is still a significant loss for the enemy, I'd advise you follow me and withdraw from the active combat area."
Blaze sighed. She wanted to go after the remaining Iskanders, but without additional air cover, guidance from J-STARS or electronic warfare support, going on a search and destroy mission brought more risk than Blaze thought was worth the effort.
"Wardog 1, roger, we're withdrawing due east." Blaze replied. "Wardog, form up on me, let's get the fuck out of here."
Almost every Yuktobanian citizen was at least cognizant of the fact that the Osean Defense Forces had established a landing zone on the mainland, their home country, but for those who lived in the capital city of Cinigrad, war felt like it was still being fought half a world away. Major Nastasya Obertas was more aware than most of the very real risk of war being brought to the capital, and even she almost felt dismissive of the fact as she drove a black Jeep Wrangler into the driveway of her house on the eastern outskirts of the city.
Leaving her aviators on the dash as she stepped out of and locked the car, Nastasya yawned before walking into her house through the front door. Taller than average, topped with very dark brown hair and built with a slim frame for her height, Nastasya was a part of the Main Directorate of Intelligence of the Yuktobanian Armed Forces - better known as the GRU. In essence, an analyst, a field agent, a spy, and many other things aside.
As she entered her home, Nastasya hung up her jacket on a coat hanger in the opening hallway, took her boots off and walked into the kitchen to fetch a glass of juice from the fridge. Her house was very basically detailed. The bare minimum of kitchen utensils, a small coffee table with two chairs and almost no art, photos or other decor to speak of.
The one exception was a small picture frame on the windowsill, maybe four inches wide by four inches tall. The picture in it had gone a shade of yellow from age. It was a photo of her being hoisted up by a man with short black hair, a wide jaw and broad shoulders. Nastasya saw it in the corner of her eye, looked at it for a moment and smiled before pouring herself a glass of juice and going to sit down at the coffee table.
Knock-knock-knock.
Somebody was knocking at the door. Nastasya rolled her eyes, put down her glass and walked out to answer. She swung open the door and was met by the site of two dirty, dirty men. Nastasya was moderately surprised that the two had guns. She was even more surprised by the men holding them.
Nastasya's jaw dropped. She hardly believed what she was seeing. "Jack?!"
"Hi, Nash." Bartlett greeted the Yuktobanian major. He looked around. "I can explain, but I'd rather do that inside before we get spotted by a random civvie."
Nastasya blinked, unsure if she was dreaming or not. She opened the door. "Come in, come in."
Bartlett and his accomplice walked inside. Nastasya looked around at the surrounding buildings before closing the door behind her, sighing and turning around to face the two Oseans.
"Let me guess, you got shot down again?" Nastasya asked, her tone not at all indicating the utter mindfuck that her brain was going through.
"Long story." Bartlett shrugged, AK-12 in his hands.
"Uh huh." Nastasya wasn't convinced. "Fuck me, how long has it been since you've had a shower?"
"Uh… little over a month?" Bartlett did the math in his head. Nastasya shook her head and pointed to the end of the hallway.
"Last door on the right. Get that goddamn stench off your body and then we'll talk."