"That is one big ugly fat fuck…" Samurai mused as they met up with their support for the mission.
Blaze scoffed. "Bison Flight, Wardog 1, forming up on your left wing."
WARDOG 1 / BLAZE, SAMURAI / F-15E
WARDOG 2 / CHOPPER, ZOOMER / F-15E
WARDOG 3 / EDGE, CORVUS / F-15E
WARDOG 4 / ARCHER / F-16C
BISON 1 / COWBOY / B-52H
BISON 2 / MISTY / B-52H
BISON 3 / BOOMERANG / B-52H
BISON 4 / CRAB / B-52H
5 November 2010
Ceres Ocean
For an aircraft almost universally known and revered for being the oldest active aircraft still in service with the OADF, B-52 Stratofortresses had been a rare sight thus far in the war, understandably so. Often referred to as the Big Ugly Fat Fucker for its ungainly size and less than sociable appearance, in many ways the B-52 was inferior to the other two platforms that made up the OADF"s bomber fleet, the supersonic B-1 Lancer and the stealthy B-2 Spirit. By comparison, the B-52 was too big to be concealed from radar and too slow to run away from whatever did see it, but what it lacked in survivability, it made up for in payload and range.
"So Wardog, you're the Four Wings of Sand Island?" B-52 pilot and leader of Bison Flight, a man going by the callsign Cowboy, inquired as the two squadrons linked up north of Sand Island.
Blaze shook her head. "Just doing our jobs."
"Ah come on, you don't need to be humble about it!" Cowboy stated proudly. "We've heard of you, y'know?"
"Hey, you can buy us a round of beers later after we're done here." Chopper joked as Wardog pulled ahead of Bison Flight to form a protective barrier.
Cowboy laughed. "Might just."
As opposed to most of Wardog's missions as of late, this was a comparatively safe operation. Wardog Squadron was to escort Bison Flight across the ocean and protect them against Yuke interceptors so that the B-52s could launch their payload against the Navy port at Ochkabursk. Their payload was a package of eighty AGM-158 JASSMs, twenty per aircraft. That was a lot of bang, especially since the entirety of Wardog Squadron in full missile carrier mode could only carry twenty between the entire squadron. They were to approach to within four hundred kilometres of the target, launch their payload and return to Osea. Easy in theory, harder in practice. They didn't have electronic warfare support this time around, so if they encountered any MiG-31s, things would get difficult.
"Thunderhead, bogey dope." Blaze asked for a contact report.
"Wardog, picture clean." Thunderhead answered. They were in the clear. For now.
Samurai breathed out heavily through her nose.
"It's quiet." She mused.
Beep, beep. New RWR contact. 31. A Foxhound.
"You had to say something." Blaze retorted, irritated. She looked down at one of her displays that had a navigation chart up. The BUFFs were at least five minutes away from the launch point.
"Wardog, group of three bandits, 330 for 400, Angels 40, hot." Thunderhead had picked the Foxhounds up, giving Wardog more specific information. Blaze grit her teeth. She and her squadmates could turn tail and run to avoid being targeted, but Bison Flight didn't have that luxury. If they left, Bison was toast.
Therefore, Blaze's decision was clear.
"Wardog, turn and burn heading 330!" Blaze directed Wardog to turn into the Foxhounds. "Bison, continue to the target, we'll buy you some time."
"Roger." Cowboy replied, taking the BUFFs and moving towards their launch point while Blaze took Wardog and moved towards the three MiG-31s. Their afterburners lighting up the evening sky, the four fighters climbed from thirty thousand to forty thousand feet. At this altitude they were more sluggish in turns because of the lack of atmosphere for their control surfaces to grab, but in turn they could hit their max speed much easier.
"Wardog, Foxhounds are picking speed and heading right for you." Thunderhead alerted Wardog. Given that the MiG-31 could hit Mach 3 in level flight and that Wardog was travelling at their max speed of Mach 2, they'd enter within shooting range of each other in two minutes and they'd be within spitting distance of each other in four.
Unfortunately for Wardog, the Foxhounds were within shooting range in one. As they approached to within three hundred kilometres of each other, the Foxhounds locked up all of Wardog and fired.
BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP-
"Fuck." Blaze growled. They'd never make it to within shooting range before getting swatted out of the air. "Wardog 1, defending!"
"Wardog 3, defending!"
"Wardog 2, defending!"
The rest of the squadron had come to the same conclusion and started notching and dropping chaff to evade the long-ranged teeth of the Foxhounds. As Blaze banked hard left, she saw somebody pull ahead. An F-16.
"Archer, pushing!"
Everybody was defending except Grimm.
On paper in this scenario the Viper didn't stand a chance against the Foxhound. Too slow, too short ranged and too short fanged to be able to counter the purpose bred interceptor. However, Grimm had an uncanny ability to defeat the odds.
His RWR blaring like crazy with at least one missile heading his way, Grimm powered forward. He offset his approach slightly to the side while dropping chaff so he could afford at least some chance of not catching a missile to the face. Approaching to within two hundred klicks of the Foxhounds, Grimm heard a loud wooosh overhead as his RWR fell silent. Grimm's gambit had paid off. Not skipping a beat, he continued to close the gap. One of the Foxhound pilots noticed that he had survived the first wave and fired a second missile at him. Grimm still moved forward, closing to the absolute edge of AMRAAM range.
"Archer, Fox 3!" Grimm called out as he fired a missile towards one of the Foxhounds. Already within the lethal employment zone of the R-37, as soon as his AMRAAM left the rail Grimm violently turned away to evade the wall of shit coming his way. Sparing a quick glance at his datalink display, he saw the Foxhounds were starting to turn away. He grinned in satisfaction.
"Foxhounds are turning away." Grimm declared. Fairly certain she was in the clear at least for a moment, Blaze levelled out and turned back in towards the Foxhounds. They'd never beat them in a straight run, but they could keep them on the run for long enough to buy Bison some time. With that in mind and with Nagase and Chopper on her wing backing her up, Blaze rushed forward to keep the Yukes on their toes. Well ahead of the Mudhen trio, Grimm was doing his thing.
"Looks like the Foxhounds are turning west for home." The tacky Viper pilot was, somehow, still alive.
"Grimm, are you okay up there?" Nagase was concerned that Grimm might have taken a hit.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Grimm retorted. "I'm giving chase."
"Keep up the good fight, we're right behind you." Blaze encouraged Grimm. She appreciated the kid's fighting spirit.
"Wardog, this is Bison, weapons away, we are getting the fuck outta here!" Cowboy sounded off. The B-52s had gotten their missiles off and were now turning around to get away from the enemy.
"Archer, splash one!" Grimm declared. Somehow the missile he fired had actually found its target even at the very edge of its maximum range. The Foxhounds were now very much on the back foot, outnumbered two to one and being forced to retreat lest they be fired upon again.
"He can't keep up that chase for long." Samurai said, referring to Grimm's limited fuel supply.
"Yeah." Blaze agreed. "Archer, cut throttle and come back to my position."
"Roger, wilco." Grimm complied with Blaze's order, slowing down and turning around to come meet up with the rest of the squadron. Blaze kept a keen eye on the position and heading of the two remaining Foxhounds. They kept withdrawing towards Yuktobanian territory at full speed, even as the threat on their rear withdrew in kind. Unfortunately, a new kind of threat materialised as Grimm returned to the squadron.
BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP-
Blaze's RWR alerted her to a missile lock. She didn't know where the hell from. The Foxhounds were out of range and were firmly on the retreat and there wasn't any other indication that other enemy aircraft were in the immediate area.
"Wardog 1, defending!" Blaze shouted as instinct took over. She threw the nose around, popped chaff and flares and dived.
"Wardog 2 defending!"
"Wardog 3 defending!"
Nagase and Chopper were also being targeted by something. Blaze looked around as they dropped down below the cloud layer and towards the ocean.
"I don't see anything!" Blaze declared. Samurai was frantically swinging her head in every direction looking for smoke trails.
"Blind!" Samurai called out.
"Thunderhead, bogey dope!" Nagase was calling for any reports of bandits even as she violently flailed around defensively trying to avoid catching the golden bullet.
"Picture clean Wardog, I don't know what the hell's shooting at you!" Thunderhead didn't see anything, Blaze didn't see anything, Chopper and Nagase didn't see anything and Grimm definitely didn't see anything. All of those factors lead Blaze to one line of thought.
They were being attacked by Su-57s.
"It's gotta be Felons!" Blaze concluded. "Eyes up!"
Originally at the leftmost side of Wardog's formation, Chopper had broken left instead of right like Blaze and Nagase, which left him isolated from the rest of the squad.
"Where is it, Zoomer?!" Chopper yelled at his WSO demanding the position of the missile targeted at him.
"I don't see shit!" Zoomer yelled back, looking at every square inch of sky for smoke trails or small black dots. He saw neither of those things, at least until there was a brief flash and a puff of black smoke that appeared maybe a few hundred metres behind them.
"Safe!" Chopper declared, pulling out of the dive. Zoomer looked in the opposite direction of where that missile had exploded, looking for its sender. At the very top of his peripheral vision, Zoomer saw the silhouette of a pair of aircraft well above them.
"Tally two, eleven o'clock high!" Zoomer called them out to Chopper. The latter looked up.
"Is that a smoke trail?" Chopper asked.
"Yes, yes it is!" Zoomer held on for dear life as Chopper dived even closer to the ocean floor, popping flares to counter the R-73 IR guided missile on their ass. The missile flew through the trail of flares and safely overshot the Mudhen. Zoomer looked over their shoulder. One of the Felons cut through the smoke trail at breakneck speed, fully intent on running Chopper and Zoomer down.
"Felon on our six!" Zoomer called forward. In reply, Chopper threw the aircraft hard over to the right. The arteries in Zoomer's neck popped out and strained as gee forces pressed him into the seat. "Slotting in… JINK!"
Chopper rolled over in the opposite direction and pulled away. Tracer rounds shot through where they had been a microsecond ago, the Felon passing by a split second later at terrifying speed. With the Felon underneath them, Chopper pulled lead and put the nose over the Felon, keying his Sidewinders to his trigger. He waited for the low-pitch growl to turn into a high-pitch growl before firing a missile.
"Chopper, Fox 2!" Chopper called out, taking the shot. The Sidewinder acquired a track and flew off the rail with lethal intent. As the Felon came around from a dive into a climb to get around Chopper, the pilot saw the Sidewinder coming and popped flares. Chopper's missile decided to track onto the flares instead of the Felon, exploding harmlessly behind the latter. Still having a little bit of nose authority, Chopper switched to his gun and fired a quick burst before he lost the opportunity. His burst came just barely short as the Felon pilot moved out of the way, dumping much of his energy to kick the rudder around in a high alpha turn. Suddenly the Felon had his nose on Chopper and Zoomer in their Mudhen.
"On our six again!" Zoomer called forward to Chopper.
"I can see that!" Chopper yelled back. As a preemptive measure, Chopper popped flares for the R-73 was almost certainly coming his way. Sure enough, when Chopper looked over his shoulder he saw a missile bearing down on them. Luckily that missile tracked onto his flares instead of his aircraft, leaving a black puff of smoke that was disembodied by the Felon flying through it. The enemy fifth generation aircraft was now out of IR missiles and it was too close to use its radar guided missiles, but that still left the gun. The enemy pulled lead and fired a burst. Chopper used the airspeed he had built up from the dive to climb above the Felon's nose. The tracers from his thirty millimetre cannon shot underneath.
"He's slow, rate around him!" Zoomer called out the fact that the Felon no longer had the nose authority to pull lead and shoot at them. Chopper flattened out the turn circle and started using the F-15 platform's exceptional turn rate performance to slowly but surely inch towards the Felon's rear. As Chopper came around the turn circle, Grimm finally met up with the squadron. He elected to help Chopper out. Ripping in from above on the already slow Felon, Grimm put his gunsight over the Felon and fired. Chopper watched as one of the Felon's wings detached from its body and started spinning out of control. The moment the pilot ejected, Chopper knew the Felon was done for. He levelled out and turned towards Nagase and Blaze.
"Thanks for the assist, Grimm." Chopper thanked his wingman.
"Any time, Chopper." Grimm quipped, forming up on Chopper's right wing. Chopper deflated into his seat.
"I'm drained." He mumbled. "Where's Blaze and Edge?"
While Chopper had been dragging a Felon into a rate fight, Blaze and Nagase were fighting a two on one fight against the second one. Blaze had levelled out of her dive once the missile pointed at her head had missed, but she was forced to roll and evade as the Felon came screaming down at her.
"Breaking right!" Blaze called out to Nagase, looking up at the Felon to see what it was doing. Shooting a missile at her was what the Felon pilot had elected to do.
"Smoke in the air!" Samurai yelled out. Blaze grit her teeth and pulled an aggressive turn to evade, flares lighting up the sky behind her. The missile exploded behind Blaze so hard that she felt the shockwave from the explosion rattle the aircraft. Fortunately no damage was done. Blaze looked up at the Felon. He had used his thrust vectoring and rudder authority to basically stop midair, ending up on Blaze's six.
"Another missile, another missile!" Samurai called out a second missile in the air. Blaze jerked the stick around and dived, popping even more flares to mask her trail. The second missile exploded harmlessly well behind them, but diving to avoid the missile resulted in the Felon slotting firmly onto her rear.
"Edge, I need a hand!" Blaze called out to her wingman as she pulled out of the dive.
"Nosing on-JINK!" Samurai screamed. Blaze chose to jink to the right, tracer shells zipping overhead like a buzzsaw in a horror film.
"Be there in five seconds!" Nagase said to Blaze, positioned above the Yuke and the Osean-Sotoan duo. Blaze pitched down, the seat straps the only thing holding her in the seat as she did so, and drew back the throttle to just above idle. Blaze shook from side to side as she bled airspeed in a desperate attempt to nose counter the Felon. Cannon shells barely missed Blaze's wingtip as the Mudhen zipped around. Pushing the gap so close that the two aircraft almost collided, the Felon pumped the brakes and used the thrust vectoring capabilities of the aircraft to avoid overshooting Blaze and Samurai. If Blaze didn't have a wingman, she almost certainly would have been shot down in the next five seconds, but luckily for her Nagase was backing her up.
While Blaze had been attempting to nose counter the Felon, Nagase had slotted in on the Felon's six. Blaze saw cannon rounds pass overhead. This set was from Nagase's Vulcan twenty millimetre cannon, not the Felon's GSH thirty mike mike. Nagase raked the Felon from tail to cockpit with cannon fire, ripping the aircraft in half. The Felon exploded, leaving Blaze in the clear.
"Edge, splash one!" Nagase called the kill for prosperity's sake. Blaze let out a sigh of relief, pushing the throttle to mil power and levelling out. She could hear Samurai breathing heavily in the back.
"You alright, Kita?" Blaze asked her WSO, turning her head to look at her. Samurai nodded her head, slumping back in the seat.
"Recovering from a heart attack, bear with me." Samurai said breathlessly. Blaze laughed.
"We're alive, relax." Blaze looked forward. "Two seconds later and we would have been dead. Thanks, Nagase."
"All in a day's work, Captain." Nagase replied. "I hope they were the only Felons out here."
"We're not staying around to find out." Blaze decided she didn't want to have a third heart attack back to back. "Bison, Wardog 1, still out there?"
"All day, every day." Cowboy retorted.
"We're coming to you." Blaze took a deep breath. "Wardog, form up and let's get the fuck out of here before reinforcements get here."
"Don't have to tell me twice." Chopper said as he and Grimm formed up with Blaze and Nagase. "That was close."
Blaze sighed. "Too close."