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    Day of the Cheetah

    Page 51
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      lead of the attack formation," General Elliott radioed over the

      command frequency. He studied the data-link radar-depictions

      of the Soviet aircraft on his heads-up display. "The Soviet air-

      craft are at flight level one-five-zero, six-zero nautical miles,

      heading south. I want to draw out the XF-34, try to force it

      down. We'll reinforce your group with Dragon Six-Zer-o flight

      when they get on station. Take heading of two-zero-zero to in-

      tercept. Over.

      352 DALE BROWN

      Tom Duncan, commander of the second F-16 flight, which

      was to relieve Dragon Five-Four, was not about to stay on the

      E-5 AWACS's wing with two MiG-29s in the area. "Barrier,

      this is Dragon Five-Seven, I copy all. Dragon Five-Six, get on

      the tanker, then stay and cover Barrier. Gold Flight, I've got the

      lead, coming right heading two-zero-zero. Take combat posi-

      tions. Set mil power."

      :'Two. I I

      'Three." The three F-16 Falcons executed a precise right

      turn as they spread into a wide triangle fortnation, with the two

      wingmen about a mile away from the leader at staggered alti-

      tudes, then accelerated to two hundred knots overtake speed.

      "Gold Flight, listen up," Duncan said to his wingmen.

      We're looking at a three-on-three situation here, but they've

      lost their AWACS and we still have ours up. The MiGs have

      been in the fight, and they've burned down weapons and fuel."

      . . .On two of our F-16s,.Duncan added to himself "One

      of the MiGs may be damaged as well. I want fast attacks, mutual

      support and heads-up smarts. Watch your airspeed. The Falcon

      can bum off energy real easy in tight turns but you can extend,

      regain speed and get back in ' the fight faster than any bird flying.

      Keep your speed up and use your heads - "

      " Dragon flight, this is Barrier Command," Elliott called in

      on the command net. "Bogeys are at twelve o'clock, forty

      miles. "

      Elliott decided to drop the cold monotone of an air-combat

      controller-these guys were about to face an entirely different

      threat. "Listen up, you guys. This is General Brad Elliott, com-

      mander of the High Technology Advanced Weapons Center.

      Your target is the XF-34, an American experimental forward-

      swept wing fighter that was stolen from Dreamland a few days

      ago. I I

      "Goddamn, " Duncan said. "We're going after one of ours?"

      "Be advised-that fighter is much more maneuverable than

      the F-16," Elliott was saying. "It fights at high angles of attack.

      It has a radar that can see in all directions and high-speed mi-

      croprocessors that simultaneously process attack and defensive

      information at high speed. " Elliott decided not to tell them about

      ANTARES or any thought-control capabilities-this was going

      to be tough enough. "It has an advanced data-link capability

      with the E-5 AWACS; we must assume that the XF-34 is re-

      DAY OF THE CHEETAH 353

      ceiving and using AWACS data-link information. The Russians

      aren't going to allow you to close on the XF-34. You may have

      to start the attack beyond visual range. I advise you not to en-

      -gage the XF-34 singly or at close range. He can reverse, change

      directions and cause you to overshoot faster than you can be-

      lieve. If you can force him to punch off his external tanks and

      delay overwater for several minutes, we can maybe force him to

      ditch. You guys are experienced fighter pilots so I won't tell you

      your business. But I tell you the XF-34 is a killer. Be careful

      when you go for a shot. If you lose sight of him, extend and

      clear-don't waste time looking for him because he'll probably

      be right on your tail. Use your speed and maneuverability and

      your buddies to get him. Good luck. "

      "Bogeys at twelve o'clock low, twenty-five miles to nearest

      target, fifteen thousand feet," the controller said. "Showing only

      two targets now. Second target at eleven o'clock low, thirteen

      thousand feet."

      "Gold Flight copies all, Barrier," Duncan replied. Both tar-

      gets were displayed on his heads-up display as a data-link be-

      tween the E-5 AWACS and the F-16. Duncan immediately

      selected an AIM-120C Scorpion missile and designated the left-

      most target. The missile immediately received its steering infor-

      mation and relayed IN RANGE and ARM messages to Duncan's

      heads-up display.

      "Let's get the ball rolling. Gold Flight, fox two," Duncan

      said, and squeezed off the first missile.

      "They're twenty-five miles behind us, 'I Maraklov warned. "Es-

      cort Three and Four, stay with the transport and keep the-F-16s

      away from it. If the Americans get any closer I'll engage and

      try to keep them busy while you get away. The Nicaraguan MiG-

      23s should be able to help as we get closer."

      "Shouldn't we counter the Americans now?" the pilot of Es-

      cort Four asked. "The transport will be sure to get away . . . "

      Just then ANTARES transmitted a radar-threat warning to

      Maraklov's brain louder than any audio signal. He reacted in-

      stantly. "All aircraft, chaff and jink, now!"

      The MiG pilots reacted quickly, but the AIM-120 missile was

      detected only seconds from impact, when its internal active radar

      steered it into its target. A huge black cloud erupted from Escort

      Three's right wing, which seemed to push the fighter to the left,

      354 DALE BROWN

      then hard over right into a spin. The pilot was able to eject and

      was even accorded the rare indignity of watching his aircraft spin

      into the Caribbean Sea.

      Maraklov rolled upright after his own rapid left turn. A quick

      radar-scan showed the F-16s still just over twenty miles away-

      they had launched from long range, nearly the outer limit of the

      Scorpion. The sky should be filled with Scorpion missiles, but

      he and the other two aircraft of his convoy to Cuba had survived.

      "Escort Four, stay as low as you can over the water," Mar-

      aklov radioed to the last remaining MiG-29. "Stay with the

      transport and protect it as best you can."

      Maraklov issued a mental command and punched off his two

      Lluyka fuel tanks. With the added drag of the tanks gone,

      DrearnStar suddenly seemed to wake up. The offensive and de-

      fensive options suggested by the ANTARES computer automat-

      ically jumped from a scant few to hundreds of options. Maraklov

      initiated a ten-G Immelmann, which got him turned around

      heading north toward the three F-16 attackers.

      Maraklov carried five-hundred rounds of twenty-millimeter

      ammunition and two AA- 13 Axe radar-guided air-to-air missiles.

      The AA-13 was inferior to the American Scorpion-it was a fast

      and powerful missile, capable at ranges out to forty miles, but

      it weighed twice as much as the Scorpion and required contin-

      uous radar illumination by the launch aircraft to home in on its

      target-carrying no missiles at all would almost have been bet-

      ter. If he was lucky the missiles might actually hit something-

      but their primary use would be to break up this well-organized


      combat patrol of F-16s.

      Maraklov picked out the high F-16. He was the spotter, the

      one who was supposed to detect the enemy first and draw fire

      until his wingmen could get into position to press the attack. He

      was also the most dangerous, since in his high and fast position

      he could defend himself easily yet turn quickly and bring guns

      or missiles to bear if his wingmen were attacked. Maraklov

      quickly designated the high F-16 with his attack radar, and at a

      range of ten miles, launched his first AA-13 missile.

      "Missile launch, " Duncan called out as his radar-warning re-

      ceiver blared to life. "Check your trackbreakers, clear to ma-

      neuver, pick it up .

      "Tally on the missile," John "Cock" Corcoran, the pilot

      DAY OF THE CHEETAH 355

      aboard Dragon Five-Eight shouted. "On me at my twelve. Go-

      ing vertical ' ' '"

      Corcoran pumped out chaff to decoy the missile, activated his

      F- 16's trackbreakers to jam the steering signals from DreamStar

      to the missile, and zoomed upward to force the missile to lose

      some of its energy. The AA-13 locked onto the chaff and almost

      flew right into the cloud, but finally reacquired its true target

      and veered upward toward the F-16 when the chaff cloud dissi-

      pated. By then the fast-burning solid-fuel propellant had burned

      out, and the missile was coasting toward its target, losing speed

      every second. The F-16 pumped out more chaff, rolled inverted

      and dived straight down. The AA-13 promptly locked onto the

      chaff once again, flew through the chaff cloud, and exploded.

      It had taken the F- 16 pilot only a few seconds to defeat the

      missile, but in that short span of time the distance between

      DreamStar and the F-16 had decreased from ten miles to two.

      Maraklov knew that the F- 16 could maneuver fast enough to

      evade the Soviet missile, but that same violent maneuvering con-

      sumed every ounce of the pilot's concentration and took a mas-

      sive physical toll-in extremely hard maneuvering in an F-16

      pilots often blacked out for seconds at a time. Maraklov was

      hoping that the harder the F-16 pilot worked at defeating the

      missile-he would fall all the easier under a follow-on attack.

      And it was working. The F-16 was in a headlong dive after

      coming over the top in a tight hairpin turn, pulling at least three

      negative G's. Unlike positive G's, which forced blood out of

      the head and produced tunnel vision or blackouts, negative G's

      drew blood toward the brain, creating redouts, which were much.

      more serious. It took, he knew, at least six or seven positive G's

      to incapacitate a pilot, but only two or three negative G's. This

      guy had allowed himself to go right out on the edge.

      "Dragon Five-Eight, bogey at your one o'clock low, two

      miles," the controller called.

      Duncan heard the warning and scanned the sky for the at-

      tacker. He spotted both his wingman and the XF-34. The

      forward-swept-wing jet was making an unbelievable gun pass-

      instead of raising its nose to intercept Corcoran, the plane was

      climbing like . . . like a helicopter, flying horizontally but mov-

      ing vertically. As Corcoran got closer the XF-34 raised-its nose

      356 DALE BROWN

      and slowed its ascent, seemed to hang in mid-air, slowly raising

      its nose at the oncoming F-16, tracking it perfectly.

      "Bandit, twelve o'clock, Cock, get out of there, " Duncan

      shouted. Too late. Corcoran barely had time to recover from the

      disorientation and fuzzy vision caused by the negative G-forces

      in the wild dive when he saw the XF-34 DreamStar angling up

      for him dead ahead. He tried to roll away but DreamStar kept

      on coming. Now in high-maneuverability mode, with its canards

      angled downward, DreamStar's gun port easily tracked the P-16

      through each turn and jink-the cannon muzzle never strayed

      from the F-16 even during the most violent maneuvers. At one

      mile Maraklov opened fire, spraying the F-16 with fifty rounds

      of twenty-miflimeter shells before dodging clear. The shells

      ripped across the F-16 from canopy to tail, killing the pilot in a

      fireball of exploding fuel.

      "Five-Eight's been hit," Duncan called out. "No 'chute.-

      The full significance of Barrier Command's warning was ob-

      vious now. The forward-swept wing aircraft, the XF-34, ap-

      peared to hover, virtually suspended in mid-air as it cut down

      Corcoran. No aircraft except a subsonic Harrier Jump-jet or a

      helicopter could do that.

      But now it was the prey, not the hunter. It had slowed itself

      down to practically nothing, which made it, he thought, an al-

      most laughingly easy target. Duncan selected an AIM-132 mis-

      sile, lined up on the XF-34 and waited until the missile had

      locked-

      In the blink of an eye the XF-34 had flat-turned, faced Duncan

      and began firing its cannon. Astonished, Duncan rolled hard left

      and dived, trying to put as much distance between his F-16 and

      those cannon shells as he could. He dived five thousand feet,

      ejected one chaff and one flare bundle to decoy any missile the

      Russian might have fired, then pulled hard on the stick and

      zoomed skyward.

      The XF-34 was waiting for him. As Duncan brought his F-

      16's nose up to reacquire his target he saw that the Russian had

      positioned himself to take a shot as he flew above the horizon.

      Duncan hit the afterburner and snapped his Falcon into tight

      aileron rolls to spoil the Russian's aim . . .

      "Extend, Dunk," he heard a voice call out. It was Lee Berry

      in Dragon Five-Nine. "Break right and extend .

      DAY OF THE CHEETAH 357

      Duncan could hear cannon shells buzzin und him.

      91 pinging aro

      A warning horn sounded but he didn't stop to check the mal-

      function. He halted his wild last-ditch roll, banked hard right,

      rolled upright and scanned the sky for his attacker as he waited

      for his airspeed to build.

      The XF-34 was nowhere to be seen.

      Duncan forced his attention back inside the cockpit to check

      his instruments and the warning panel. The OIL PRESS light was

      lit-he had taken a hit in the engine. No smoke in the cockpit

      or fire lights, so he still had time to head back to Georgetown,

      but in a single engine aircraft an oil pressure problem was a

      land-as-soon-as-possible inflight emergency. "Barrier, this is

      Five-Seven. I've got an oil pressure light," Duncan reported on

      the command channel as he headed north. "I need a vector to

      Georgetown. "

      "Copy, Five-Seven. Heading zero-three-five, vectors to

      Georgetown Airport, one-one-five nautical miles. Climb as re-

      quired. Emergency channel Bravo. Search and rescue has been

      notified. "

      Duncan angrily clicked his mike in response. They were al-

      ready preparing to fish him out of the Caribbean. Thanks a

      bunch.

      He keyed his mike. "Gold Flight, check in." No answer.

      "Berry, where are you?" Still no reply.

      "Barrier, where's Five-Nine?"

      "No contact with him, Five-Seven
    ," the controller replied.

      "No IFF, no primary target."

      Oh, God, Duncan thought. That guy got Berry, too. He closed

      his eyes, trying to force the image of his two squadron buddies

      out of his mind. It was no use., Two hours ago they were together

      making plans for a luau on the beaches near the casinos-now

      he'd have to make plans for a funeral.

      That last guy was good, Maraklov thought as he pulled his power

      back from full afterburner to military power. Very good. The F-

      16 pilot had maneuvered so fast that he never got a clean shot

      off at him, but he had apparently taken some damage because

      he wasn't pressing the fight. Maraklov had taken his shot, then

      immediately turned south at full power and headed back toward

      Nicaragua to join up with the stricken II-76 transport and Escort

      Four.

      358 DAIE BROWN

      Dream Star ... his plane ... was still safe, still with one

      AA-13 missile and two hundred rounds of ammunition. Fuel was

      the problem now-almost none left for another dogfight with any

      more F-16s. He'd have perhaps fifteen minutes of fuel remaining

      once he returned to Sebaco.

      "Escort Four, this is Maraklov," he called on their assigned

      frequency. "Approaching your fort-nation at fifteen thousand feet,

      twenty miles behind you. Area is clear. " there had been three

      F-16s in the attack formation, but his spherical scan showed

      clear. The third F-16 must have returned with his leader.

      The pilot in Escort Four acknowledged. The Ilyushin trans-

      port and the MiG-29 had managed to climb back to a safer al-

      titude, but the transport looked worse every second. "Clear to

      approach. Flight Kepten Kameneve reports that the Ilyushin is

      very unstable and landing may be impossible. He is briefing the

      crew on ditching procedures at this time."

      "Understood."

      It seemed the game was up. The Americans weren't likely to

      send in another jet with a camera over Sebaco. Next time they'd

      send in bombers. One aircraft carrier loaded with F/A- 1 8 fighter-

      bombers, or one B-52 like the Old Dog he destroyed in Nevada,

      could devastate Nicaragua's whole defense network and waste

     


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