Chp. 13: Proactive Reaction

November 28, 2015

Emmerian Carrier Chaulet (R01)

Freddie almost felt like letting loose a war cry as his Rafale was thrown down the catapult. Being back on the offensive like this had him feeling like he was back at the first day of the war. Ready to take on the entire Estovakian military, and this time there would be no retreating. In fact, rumors were spreading that the Estovakians were running north as fast as they could. Talk of how they were only good on the offensive and that was why they'd pressed so hard.

"Tempest 1 is airborne, moving to station."

"Tempest 2 is airborne, joining on you." Paul added.

They rose into the predawn sky and circled while the rest of the usual lot were being put up. Once more Freddie would be leading a fighter sweep. This time the target was way up north: Pollozo International Airport, and the bombers that'd fled there. Chaulet and Chevalier would be tempting targets, just as much as the Emmerian advance. Without the bombers or an airport, it would be that much harder for the Estovakians to bomb the good guys. The strike force of Rafales would be paving the way for half a dozen Mirage IVs to deliver the finishing blow. They expected to face a force of Su-27s and Su-30s, backed up by some of the best SAMs in the Stovies' arsenal. Serac and Torrent fell in behind and the second half of the CAP was forming near their home aboard Chevalier.

"Tempest this is Orca, airborne and formed up. Moving to link-up as briefed." One of 4F's pilots radioed.

"Copy that Orca, Tempest is doing the same."

Freddie guided his fourship towards the coast as the strike and SEAD elements of the attack were being sent airborne as fast as possible. The latter didn't even bother forming up; they were close enough to the coast now that people could start spreading out into a proper formation. The carriers had run north and gotten close to the shore, closer than they should've been. As soon as the launch cycle was done, they needed to turn and run for the safety of waters further out.

"All aircraft be advised, Horizon has detected a single Bear-F in the northern part of your AO. Heading 357, 273 Kilometers out at an altitude of 8200. Looks like it's vectoring several surface contacts. Be advised of those contacts near or on your intended ingress." Their mission's Hawkeye warned.

"Do we know if they've picked up the carriers?" Orca 1 asked.

"Unknown, assume so…standby, we're getting a relay from CIC."

"Copy, break, Orca will keep tabs on that Bear. Tempest, stick with the strikers."

"Copy."

Freddie looked at his wingman and signaled for him to spread out further and gain some altitude. He radioed the same orders to his second half. The SEAD element was hurrying to catch up and support the CAP while the strike element was playing its own game of catch-up. Freddie turned on his radar and selected his MICAs as the coastline appeared at the top of his navigation display. Serac did the same and the two Rafales angled out, then back in to expand their radar coverage. The RWR came to life and began to warble as the SPECTRA system got to work.

"All strike elements be advised, Chevalier's battlegroup commander has authorized two of his escorts to meet the incoming surface contacts." The Hawkeye spoke up.

"Copy Horizon, do you have a fix on the type of surface contacts?" Freddie replied as the fighters raced towards land.

"Contacts are small in size. Likely Tarantuals."

"All aircraft, stay above Flight Level 3500. Repeat, stay above 3500."

Freddie's attention remained focused on crossing the coast. The Bear was too far away and not worth the fuel; the Rafales guarding the fleet would be better suited to chasing it down.

"Tempest is feet dry!"

The SEAD element was moving to attack, or at least degrade, a pair of HQ-12 batteries near the coast. Two of the Rafales passed by under him and Paul as they fanned out again.

"Tempest 2, back on me. Shark, we're moving to assist." Freddie radioed.

He turned towards the diamond-shaped SAM site and dumped a couple packets of chaff. Sharks 7 and 8 got low, and Freddie rolled in like he was going to drop a bomb on its engagement radar. As the missile launchers focused on him, Shark 7 fired an AASM at the radar. Freddie pulled away as two SAMs lifted off a few seconds too late. Freddie soared into the clouds as the Fire Dome met its demise. Paul pulled the same trick on the other site, then Shark 8 deposited two AASMs onto its Fire Dome and a Tube Arm radar supporting the two batteries. The Emmerian jets hurried inland as soon as the last eight of their force was over dry land. Freddie knew the Estovakians at the airport would already be waiting for them, and the E-2 confirmed his hunch.

"Tempest and Orca, this is Horizon, we've got bandits leaving their stations near the target and heading your way. Eight aircraft…nearest group is at Heading 346, 120 Kilometers out. Altitude is 7900 and increasing."

"Copy, Tempest is going high. Orca, request you bracket them." He replied.

He selected his MICAs, adjusted his radar, and checked to make sure that Paul was with him. The two Rafales kept a loose formation as they went above the clouds and hooked around the city of Pelouse. They weaved back to avoid a few smaller locales. When they were once again heading due west, the closest group of bandits was gaining altitude. The next-closest was trying to get around and behind them. Tempests 3 and 4 moved to meet that pair. Orca went low and fast to the east, clearing Pelouse before rocketing ahead over the smaller towns.

Freddie leveled out as the Flankers opposite him did the same. He decided to give the lead jet two missiles before it had a chance to shoot at him.

"Blizzard, move in for a quick shot. Before they can get a lock." He ordered.

Before the man could fully reply, Freddie braced and gave his throttles a shove. He nosed up again and slid into a barrel roll, dropping chaff to buy time. The Flanker nosed up again, and Freddie jumped at the chance. He nosed down as he finished the roll, then nosed up and nosed up hard. His radar locked onto the Stovie jet before it could do the same.

"Tempest 1, Fox 3 Fox 3." He growled.

The two missiles mounted on the fuselage fell away and streaked ahead.

"Tempest 2, Fox 3." Paul added.

The two jets split, following their respective targets. Freddie slaved his IRST to the Estovakian and noted the distinctive shape of an Su-30. His missiles went vertical as the Flanker twisted and turned, trying to get away from them. Freddie moved in close to force the Flanker to go where he wanted it to. He selected his Magics and grabbed some sky above the enemy jet. The Flanker pilot broke to defend when it became obvious that Freddie was lining up for another shot. Not even his wingman could save him; Paul had the other Su-30 locked down tight. Freddie cut his opponent off and forced the Sukhoi product to head towards the ground. The less erratic moves gave the MICAs what they needed the most. Freddie broke hard right into the Flanker's turn as it tried to deploy chaff at the last second. The gamble didn't pay off, but Freddie had no time to watch the jet go down in flames. He reversed again and came around as the next pair of Flankers was approaching.

The Estovakian jets split, as did the others further back. Freddie found himself amongst his second element and the jets of 4F as the two sides squared up for the main event. The two sides met above a twist in the Curzalani River and the barren hills surrounding it. Freddie quickly broke from the others to avoid drifting too far from Paul. His wingman was in a rolling scissors with the other Flanker, who seemed to have a much better handle on his plane than his lead. As soon as Freddie was in the general view of the Flanker, it fired a PL-9 at him. He broke to the left and deployed flares while the Flanker slipped from the Emmerians' grasp. Paul exited the scissors as the Flanker was trying to come around and get on his tail. They ended up in another scissors as Freddie shook the missile. He went to the left of the fight as it drifted towards the others. Then, all of the sudden, the Flanker broke off and dove for the clouds.

"I smell a trap, Tempest 1." Paul announced.

"I do, too. Go low, I'll circle above and see if I can spot anything."

Freddie nosed up and rolled inverted, but couldn't spot any movement. He nosed down and let his infrared get a good look. It picked up two significant heat sources, which according to the display were engines.

"Tempest 2, I've got a bead on that Flanker. I'm not seeing any other bandits in the immediate vicinity. Be advised, that bandit is really moving." He relayed.

"Copy…copy, Tempest. I know why." Paul replied.

At that moment, the RWR let Freddie know what his wingman was talking about. The Clam Shell tracking radar of one of the faraway SA-10 sites was joined by its Flap Lid fire control radar. As the Flanker raced towards the SAMs, they launched a barrage at the offending Emmerians. Freddie tightened his muscles and dove as fast as his plane would let him. He let SPECTRA do most of the work this time. He leveled out down in the weeds.

"Tempest 2, what's your position?" He asked.

"I think I'm out ahead of you, same altitude. Trying to get another shot at that Flanker before it gets away." Paul replied.

The Flanker grabbed more and more altitude, leaving the Rafales to the SAMs for the time being. He was apparently confident enough to move towards the center of the furball, which was rapidly heading towards the ground as the Emmerians sought to avoid the SAMs. Paul took the lead and nosed up to give his next shot a better angle. Close to a dozen contacts above were turning towards the Emmerians as the strike element hit their launch points. Freddie waited a second to make sure the SAMs had lost him and that the SEAD birds were past before he chose a target. The Estovakians were coming in from above, trying to keep their enemies sandwiched between them and the ground. He looked towards Paul as the man fired a Magic at the Su-30.

"Tempest 2, Fox 2. Tempest 1, I'm moving back towards you." He radioed.

"Copy Two." Freddie replied distractedly.

His radar had already selected two targets to engage. He nosed up even with the SA-10s still active. Shark was doing everything it could short of flying straight and dumb. Paul joined his lead and they salvoed four MICAs at the nearest pairs of Flankers.

"Tempests 3 and 4, go wide on the right and try to box these bandits in." Freddie instructed.

He was nosing down and looking for another couple of targets for his last pair of MICAs as he raised the Hawkeye.

"Horizon, bandit dope. What's your picture look like?"

"Four additional bandits heading towards you. Heading 299, 150 Kilometers out, Altitude 7000. They just popped up on our scope."

"Tempest, Orca, this is Thunder. We're moving to assist; check fire to the east. Hammerhead reports their first element is at their IP and beginning approach. They're gonna turn east towards us then south over the drink." Thunder 1 piped up.

"Glad to have you, Thunder. Be aware of those Grumble batteries." Orca 1 replied.

"They're all too apparent to us, Orca."

By now, Freddie and his flight had forced several of the surviving Flankers to spread out in different directions. Freddie moved up a few hundred meters more so the crossfire wouldn't be such a problem. One of the Flankers took note and turned towards him, dropping flares and chaff in mixed noted the SAMs once again before ascending higher and rolling over to pounce from above. He hit the gas and streaked ahead, allowing Paul to break away and challenge another Su-27 nearby. The two Stovie jets angled themselves so that both the Rafales were in their forward field of view. Both were accelerating and trying to get a lock on both Emmerians. Freddie rolled upright and ducked back and forth a few times to shake off the attempt. The two Flankers reacted so that one was always pointed at his side, where his radar cross section was the biggest. He resigned himself to defending against their PL-12s as he decided to shoot one MICA at each bandit. Starting with the one he'd gone after first.

"Tempest 2, try and shoot one missile at each bandit…Tempest 1, Fox 3." He announced.

The missile left its rail just as the Flanker got a lock. The other Flanker used the few seconds in between to fire twice; one for each Rafale. Freddie broke towards the missile and rolled inverted, away from his wingman. Paul did the same, going in the opposite direction. The two Flankers once more tried to pin them against the terrain, but failed to factor in Serac and Darche. The second pair of Rafales emerged from some clouds, keeping the SAMs at bay with their EW suites until they could get shots off at the Flankers. Now Freddie allowed himself to get low a bit more before shooting upwards. The PL-12 meant for him flashed by short of the Rafale. Freddie looked towards his wingman and was satisfied to see the man still flying. Once again the Rafales boxed in their enemies, forcing the Flankers to push outwards against superior numbers. The Flankers took up the challenge and apparently coordinated with the bandits further out. Freddie and Paul went vertical while their squadronmates took over.

"All Navy aircraft, this is Hammerhead 1; we're starting our bomb run. Check fire in the direction of the airfield. We'll move towards you immediately. Shark, are those Grumble batteries out of the equation? I'm not getting any hits on my RWR." A new voice radioed.

"Stovies still got some AAA around the target, but those Grumbles won't bother you." Shark 1 assured them…

Commandant Toulouse Faulques took the sailor's word for that, but he still glanced at his RWR's display to make sure. His Mirage IV was racing to the northwest at nearly one-and-a-half times the speed of sound. With a full bomb load that meant his speed was as much an obstacle as it was an advantage. He eased his bomber just a hair further to the left and ascended a few hundred meters. Fire and smoke further highlighted the airport as he watched it using the infrared camera on the plane's chin.

"Pop-up contacts. Two bandits west of the airfield. Heading 270, 50 Kilometers. Altitude is about 7800." Lieutenant Gene Berlioz reported.

"Too late to worry about them, Genie!" We're in hot!" He snapped as he decelerated.

Toulouse and his wingman put themselves in position to fly directly over the tarmac and remaining taxiways. Each bombardier released their payload at a predetermined point for the best coverage. One by one, two dozen cluster bombs spread their contents far and wide. The H-6s below never had a chance as what seemed like hundreds of submunitions exploded across every meter of ground. The two bombers kept on their current heading until they were clear of the airport, at which point two more Mirage bombers swept in.

"Genie, what's the position of those bandits now?" He asked.

"Just passed 35 Kilometers and closing. They're at our four high, looks like they're going for our tails." The backseater reported.

"Copy."

He hailed his wingman and the two went into full afterburner. They nosed up and deployed chaff and flares. The RWR's tone changed as the Su-30s picked through the countermeasures.

"Shark this is Hammerhead, requesting support. Two bandits closing in from behind. Support from anyone. Is anyone available to assist?" Toulouse radioed.

"Hammerhead, Shark is able to assist. Keep your current heading and stay on your toes. Tempest, Orca, are you able to back us up?"

"Standby Shark."...

"Tempest 1 be advised, the two bandits we're engaged with are trying to break away and head towards you." Serac radioed.

Freddie and Paul slipped out of the fight as Serac and Darche seemed to have it under control. It hadn't been more than a few seconds when he'd made that call. The picture building in Freddie Durand's head wasn't a particularly enticing one.

"Copy, break, Shark we're getting boxed in. Unable to support you at this time; suggest you bug out east as soon as possible." Freddie replied.

The SEAD leader clicked his mic twice while Freddie and Paul crossed paths and came around. Serac and Darche fired off a MICA each as the Flankers tried for their own missile shots. One of the Su-27s nosed up and made the tightest roll it could. Freddie nosed up until he was sure he was well above the MICA's flight path and rolled inverted to attack. His RWR told him that one of the Flankers, another Su-30, was tracking him. He aborted his attack and came around as quickly as he could. The adrenaline drowned out most of the Gs, but he could still feel his head getting light as he tried to put his nose on the most immediate threat. A barrage of PL-12s came rushing from their maximum range, sending the Rafales scattering in all directions. Freddie went further into the skies above, then abruptly dove towards the ground again.

"All aircraft, Hammerhead is bugging out to the east. Suggest you move that direction as soon as you can. Got a lot of bandits coming your way. At least a dozen so far, Thunders and Airguards. Nearest group is at Heading 245, 150 Kilometers out and closing fast, Altitude is 7700." Horizon radioed.

"Copy, break, okay Tempest let's get these Stovies in line before their friends show up." Freddie proposed.

The Estovakians responded with more PL-12s, some guided and some simply wild shots. Freddie kept moving, all the while slowly making his way towards the Flankers for a few parting shots. He zig-zagged back and forth, dodging an Su-27 that'd taken an interest in him. That was, until he caught a glimpse of an explosion nearby. He let himself look that way for a few seconds as he came back to the right.

"Tempest 1 to flight, what's everyone's status?" He radioed cautiously.

He entered the maximum range for his remaining missiles as he waited for an answer. The Flanker nosed up and rolled towards him. He nosed up and brought his thumb down the second he had a solid track on the enemy fighter.

"Tempest 1, Fox 2. Give me those statuses!" He said quickly.

"Darche's hit…Darche's hit. He's still airborne but he's hit." Serac reported calmly.

Again, Freddie had to balance commanding and fighting. He passed below the Flanker as it stayed nose up and came around, searching the sky for his number four.

"Tempest 4, report." He requested.

"I have both engines. Hydraulics look okay; I think it's superficial, Lead." The young aviator insisted.

"Let's not chance it. Tempest 3, take him back to the Chau. We'll join up with Orca and follow suit once they're far enough away. Tempest 2, if we get split up then meet at the following coordinates."

Paul clicked his mic twice as Freddie fired off the numbers. He also checked his fuel and pulled up to take another go at the Flanker. At the same time, he started looking for a chance to slip away. He passed a few clouds to find a cloud of black and gray dotting the sky. Satisfied with that, he banked towards Paul's half of the fight.

"Tempest this is Orca, we're gonna move your way and give you a better chance to fall in with us." His fellow CAP leader called.

"We appreciate it, Orca. Tempest 2, what's your status and fuel state?" Freddie replied.

"Fuel is good to go. Engaged neutral with this other Flanker. I'll have him handled in a second here."

"You better; we're outta time."

Hoping to effect that promise, Freddie turned towards the fight as the two jets weaved through the clouds. Paul pushed through a cloud to cut the Flanker off before it could run to its friends. The top of the RWR's scope was getting crowded with hits as the Stovie reinforcements reached the outer edge of the battlespace.. Freddie dove at the Flanker as soon as he saw it and made sure he was visible. The Flanker reacted by turning towards Paul as he emerged to take a shot. The Emmerian aviator swallowed a curse and pulled up, allowing the Su-27 to slip behind him. Freddie made sure the Stovie didn't get a chance to turn the tables, but Paul pulled hard right and came around to do the same. Now it was Freddie's turn to pull away, and the RWR's tone was changing yet again as a fourship of JF-17s set their sights on the two Rafales.

"Blizzard." Freddie snapped.

"Joining on you." Paul replied just as quickly.

The two jets joined together as Orca stepped in to help, but it wasn't enough to stop the Stovies from launching another salvo of PL-12s. Freddie set his countermeasures to an almost continuous stream and jumped about the sky like a kid hopped-up on sugar. He looked over both shoulders as the missiles spread across the sky from afar, then leveled out down low. He looked for any ground clutter to use, but found little. He nosed back up, ignoring the warning that his chaff was running low. He saw Paul's plane pass on the left, then break to the right and nose up. He looked back again as Orca came around, switching from trying to engage to spreading chaff across the sky. The airwaves started to have a sense of urgency.

"Orca 3, climb."

"Orca 2 here, I've got at least three missiles after me."

"Shark, are you able to assist?"

"Negative, got one bird down and two more damaged. We're bugging out to the northeast."

"Copy, copy."

All Freddie could do was keep ducking and weaving until the missiles were in visual range. Most had used up their rocket motors and were flying purely on inertia. Freddie hailed his wingman and the two nosed up despite the threat of more missile shots. The two broke in opposite directions, then came back towards one-another as Orca caught up to them, minus a jet. Freddie barely acknowledged them as the coastline appeared. At the edge of his radar, he could see friendly contacts heading their way. He didn't know if it would deter the Stovies, but he had to think so to keep himself going. He hit the coast and refused to look back or stop jinking about until he was back inside the fleet perimeter.