power cart away from the left primary circuit. "That mainte-
T-_
324 DALE BROWN
nance chief would be out on his ass in the States. Five minutes
to open one access panel-we'll be here all morning."
Sarcasm did not transmit well through ANTARES, but Zay-
kov nodded her understanding. "They are all afraid to touch the
aircraft," she said. "They're afraid you will electrocute them.
The chief has to order them to do the simplest task."
"At this rate I'll be forced to make the crossing in daylight,"
Maraklov said.
They should be finished in a few minutes."
But that's only the first of about a dozen major items that
need to be inspected before I can launch. It's almost sunrise
now. I'll have half the U. Navy on top of me before I can fly
a hundred miles, and in daylight with two external tanks I'll be
a sitting duck."
"Our headquarters is coordinating with the Nicaraguan navy
in sweeping the Caribbean for any American ships that might
get in your way," Zaykov said. `So far, they report no Amer-
ican ships closer than six hundred miles, except those in the
Canal Zone and Puerto Rico. Besides, we have been informed
by Moscow that the Ameri cans have agreed not to take any ac-
tion for five days. They will be totally unprepared for this."
"Never mind all that," Maraklov said, "just make those idiots
out there work as fast as they can. Every minute I sit on the ground
in this hell-hole is another mile closer the Americans can get.
One Hundred Nfiles Southwest of the Cayman
Islands
Saturday, 20 June 1996, 0500 CDT
"Dragon Five-One flight, this is Georgetown radar," the cheer-
ful British voice announced over the command radio - "Welcome
to the Cayman Islands. Stand by for frequency assignments - "
"Now this is what I call a summer camp," Major John Cour-
sey said happily, taking another sip of orange juice. Coursey
was one of twelve F-16 ADF pilots from Howard Air Force Base
in Panama taking part in an operation they had come to know
simply as Barrier. Coursey was the leader of Dragon Blue, one
of four three-sh ip cells in the huge fighter formation. The twelve
fighters were all from the 107th Fighter Interceptor Group, New
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 325
York Air National Guard, from Niagara Falls International Air-
port, deployed to Panama in one-month rotations. They were all
serving their annual training commitment, which for F-16 pilots
was always more than the standard Air National Guard two weeks
per year.
"One week in Panama is heaven, " Coursey said over the
scrambled interplane frequency, "but a secret mission to the
Cayman Islands is a real hardship."
"Cut the chatter, Blue flight," came the order from the squad-
ron commander, Lieutenant Colonel George Tinker. "Okay, lis-
ten up. Red, Yellow and Gold stay on me for recovery. Blue,
Georgetown Radar will clear you to an orbit just outside their
airspace, blocking altitudes from five to thirty thousand. You're
required to squawk modes and codes even though you're outside
their airspace, but you are cleared to strangle if you get into a
situation. Get together with your tanker for refueling, then set
up a high- and mid-CAP as directed by Barrier Control. Watch
your fuel. No one goes below three thousand pounds over the
high fix at Georgetown. Everyone got it?"
"Don't drink all the margaritas down there, boss," Coursey
said.
"No screwing around, Blue Leader," Tinker radioed back.
"We're expecting some brass on board Barrier Control for this
one." Barrier Control was the 767 AWACS radar plane that
would be controlling the fighters from its more protected orbit
point closer to the Cayman Islands.
"Blue Lead copies. We'll look pretty for the brass."
"You'd better. Dragon flight minus Blue, come right and start
descent' Blue flight, watch your gas, and good hunting."
"Blue flight is clear," Coursey reported as he watched the
three groups of F-16 Falcon air-defense fighters execute a tight
echelon turn to the right as they began their approach into
Georgetown, the capital city of the Cayman Islands.
Coursey sucked in his breath. Against the crystal-blue shim-
mering backdrop of the Caribbean Sea, the large formation
looked spectacular-especially to a desk-bound accountant from
Tonawanda, New York, for whom the biggest excitement in life
lately was having the Delaware Avenue monorail going into
downtown Buffalo arrive on time. The Air National Guard was
the country's biggest secret, he told himself-he was getting a
326 DALE BROWN
great Caribbean vacation paid for by Uncle Sam, and all he had
to do was fly one of the hottest jet fighters in the world.
"Dragon Five-Four flight, this is Georgetown radar. Squawk
mode three code zero-zero-one-four, mode JC. on, and have your
wingmen squawk standby," the juicy sounding controller from
the Grand Cayman said.
"Anything you say, babe." Coursey was feeling altogether
the hot pilot. He knew his wingmen would check that their mode
three identification beacons were in standby-they were placed
in standby so collision alerts between fighters in the formation
would not continually show on radar-so he doubled-checked
his IFF settings and got himself comfortable.
"Dragon Five-Four flight, you are cleared to orbit as required
within one-zero-zero nautical miles of BRAC intersection as re-
quested, in the block from five thousand to thirty-five thousand
feet. Contact me on this frequency if you require assistance.
Clear to switch to tactical frequencies. Georgetown radar clear. "
Coursey was about to ask her for an after-hours phone number
but it was time to get things organized. "Roger, Georgetown.
You have a nice day, now. Dragon flight, push blue."
"Two. "
"Three.
"Blue" was the assigned common scrambled UHF frequency
to be used by Coursey's flight, the AWACS known as Barrier
Control, and King 27, their KC-10 tanker out of Homestead
AFB, Florida.
"Dragon flight, check," Coursey called out a few seconds
after switching frequencies.
"Two.
"Three," his wingmen responded.
"Station check, report with fuel status." Coursey took a fast
look at Dragon Five off his right wingtip. The big centerline fuel
tank on the F-16s made the sleek bird awkward looking, not to
mention the huge decrease in performance and range-those tanks
would be the first to go if they engaged any hostiles out here.
Each F- 16 carried two AIM- 132B European-built infrared-guided
ASRAAM (Advanced Short-Range Air-to-Air Missiles for close-
range "dogfighting" engagements) and two AIM-120C AM-
RAAM (Advanced Medium-Range Air-to-Air Missiles for
longer-range attacks), along with five hundred rounds of twenty-
millimeter ammunition. They were loaded and ready, but out
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 327
here, flying quietly and peacefully over the sparkling blue Ca-
ribbean, trouble seemed a zillion miles away.
"Let's hear it, Dragon flight."
"Two's in the green, four and five hundred all safe, eight
thousand. " He had called out his overall status, his armament
number and status, and his fuel remaining.
"Three's in the green, four and five hundred safe, seven-
point-seven. "
"Looks like everyone's thirsty here," Coursey said. The large
external fuel tanks on the three fighters' bellies were all empty-
they were usually empty shortly after a heavy gross-weight take-
off-and the internal fuel loads were also depleted by half. They
all had about an hour's worth of fuel left, plus the required forty-
five minutes reserve. "Lead's got eight-point-one, four and five
hundred. Break. King Two-Seven, this is Dragon Five-Four
Flight of three on tac blue, over."
"Dragon flight, this is King Two-Seven, read you loud and
clear," the KC-10 air-refueling tanker radioed back. "We're
receiving your position beacons, codes verified. We're seventy
miles north of your position on a heading of two-zero-zero, al-
titude twenty thousand feet. Over."
"Copy, Two-Seven," Coursey replied. "You've got three
receivers at nineteen thousand feet, onload as briefed, point par-
allel auto rendezvous. Weapons all report safe and ready for
refueling. We'll do a few orbits, out here to stay in our assigned
block, then turn northbound at thirty miles."
"Copy, Dragon. "
Coursey began some gentle standard-rate turns in order to bum
some time without going outside his assigned airspace. A few
moments later he heard, "King Two-Seven at fifty miles."
"Copy. Dragon flight, take route spacing, stand by for auto
rendezvous." The two members of Coursey's formation stayed
in formation but increased the distance between aircraft to almost
a mile. Dragon Four started a turn to the north, and Coursey
watched to make sure his wingmen were staying with him.
"Thirty miles . . . twenty miles, stand by for turn . . . "
At.seventeen miles, on the dot, Coursey's F-16 Falcon started
a left tum and gentle climb. A few moments later one of Cour-
sey's wingmen called, "Tally ho, ten-thirty position." Coursey
stared harder toward the crystal-blue horizon and finally spotted
the huge green converted DC-10 airliner in the distance.
328 DALE BROWN
"Lead's got a tally."
It appeared as if the F-16 formation was on a collision course
with the huge tanker, but in auto-mode it always looked like
that. Coursey pulled his throttle back to ninety percent and
pegged his airspeed at four hundred twenty knots. By the time
the computer-controlled turn was done, the tanker was looming
over the lead F-16 fighter's nose like a storm cloud, and the
autopilot beeped to remind the pilot that the rendezvous was
completed.
"Dragon Five-Four flight, this is King Two-Seven boom op-
erator, radio check."
"Dragon lead's loud and clear."
"Two. I I
"Three.
"Loud and clear up here. Dragon Five-Four cleared to the
contact position; Two-Seven is ready."
"Dragon Five-Four moving up on auto."
The tanker's nozzle was aligned less than a thousand feet
ahead. Coursey punched off the autopilot and moved the throttle
to eighty percent, which, after his years of experience he knew
would give him the three-hundred-knot refueling speed he
wanted; tiny speedbrake deflections would take care of any ex-
cess speed. He opened the air-refueling receptacle on the F-16's
spine and checked the status indications on his heads-up display.
They showed ready for refueling.
"Dragon Five-Four stabilized pre-contact and ready," Cour-
sey reported.
Coursey carefully guided his fighter under the KC- I O's broad
belly, following the rows of director lights arranged along the
tanker's bottom, until he received a steady yellow light-which
placed the front glare-shield right on the tanker's UHF antenna
blade.
"Stabilize Behind Coursey's canopy the twenty-foot
boom extended its tubular nozzle, and like some alien mating
ritual the boom operator extended the nozzle into the F-16's
receptacle. Coursey's HUD indicated CONTACT.
:'Contact Five-Four.
'Contact Two-Seven," the boom operator replied. At that,
the copilot on the KC-10 activated the refueling boost pumps
and began transferring fuel. When the boom operator's flow panel
showed a positive transfer rate, he reported, "Taking fuel."
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 329
"Give me five thousand and we'll cycle," Coursey said. Each
fighter in the formation would take on a token load at first to
confirm that their refueling systems were working; once all fight-
ers could take fuel, they would spend more time on the boom
and fill to full tanks. Five thousand pounds of fuel took only
thirty seconds to transfer. Coursey disengaged from the tanker
and swung out to the left to let Dragon Five-Five in on the
boom.
The pilot aboard Five-Five, a young lieutenant who had just
had a bit more trouble completing the rendezvous. On his first
attempt he moved no closer than ten feet from the extended
nozzle.
"Forward ten, Dragon Five-Five," the boom operator
prompted. Coursey could see the F-16 inch closer, but he always
pulled off too much speed or ducked down away from the noz-
zle.
"Forward twelve."
Impatience got the better of him. This time he shoved in too
much power and overcorrected. The F-16 slid under the KC-10
so far that the vertical stabilizer looked as if it was going to
scrape against the refueler's boom pod.
"Breakaway, breakaway, breakaway," the boom operator
called out. Not exactly an emergency situation but the KC-10's
response was automatic-the boom shot full up into its retracted
position, the engines went to full power, the tanker began a
steady climb. Dragon Five yanked off his power and slid out of
sight. Coursey and Dragon Six stayed on the tanker's wingtip as
it pulled ahead.
"Two-Seven, this is Dragon Leader, Dragon Five-Five is well
clear," Coursey radioed to the tanker, trying to keep Five in
sight. "Cancel breakaway. Clear Dragon Five-Six to the contact
position, and clear Dragon Five-Five to the right wing. Five-
Five, take a breather and try to relax.-
"Dragon Five-Five, clear to Dragon Five-Six's right wing,"
the boom operator said. The F-16 that had balked its hookup
reappeared, sliding under Dragon Five-Six and moving into po-
sition on Six's right wingtip.
"Dragon Five-Five is on your right, Five-Six."
"Dragon Five-Six, clear to the contact position, Two-Seven
is ready." Five-Six moved smoothly down into contact position,
330 DALE BROWN
and fifteen seconds later it was
taking fuel. A minute later he
was back off Five-Five's right wing, and Dragon Five-Five was
moving back into contact position.
"All right, Myers," Coursey told the pilot of Dragon Five-
Five, "you've already embarrassed yourself in front of these
tankers toads-try not to do it again. Remember, these Falc ons
don't like being muscled around. They respond to gentle inputs.
Just like the ladies. Remember your visual cues and for God's
sake, relax. "
He watched as Dragon Five-Five again began his approach to
contact position. Myers needed this hookup for much more than
just to avoid embarrassment. If he didn't get his refueling on
this pass he'd have to take the tanker, turn north and attempt
another contact while heading for Georgetown. It would be
highly embarrassing for one of Coursey's wingmen to come back
alone because he couldn't accomplish a refueling, especially in
near-ideal weather conditions. But whatever else Myers had on
his mind, he apparently had finally managed to put it behind him
as he made contact with the KC-10 on the first try.
"Fill 'er up, Two-Seven," Coursey said. "We'll top off in
reverse order. I'll be on radio two." Coursey switched radios
momentarily to his second non-scrambled UHF radio. "Barrier
Control, this is Dragon Five-Four flight. How copy?"
"Dragon Five-Four flight, this is Barrier Control, loud and
clear. Over. "
"We will complete refueling in one-zero minutes," Coursey
said. "Looks like we'll have three birds in the green. We'll be
in the center of the assigned area at completion. Over."
"Copy all, Dragon flight," the controller replied. "First re-
sponse will be in approximately zero-eight minutes. Upon com-
pletion of refueling, take flight level two-five-zero and heading
two-zero-five for your first intercept."
"Copy all, Barrier. We'll report back when refueling is com-
plete.
. Dragon Five-Five was topped off in three minutes, after eas-
ing out of the boom's refueling envelope twice. Five-Six had an
easier time of it, completing his refueling in two minutes. Cour-
sey took a bit longer than two minutes, electing to use lower