EA 71 Whippoorwhill
Diorama: 125.00
Over the Aleuatian Islands, 0700 hours.
At 1,800 knots, the sea sped by quickly to Colonel Hart’s limited vision. The never ending sunlight was proving to be a bigger distraction than the mission planner’s had thought, and everyone’s tempers were rather rough from squinting at the horizon, or from gazing too hard at the display screens that showed bright green blips all over.
The invasion force was below them, steaming along as fast as possible, headed for the occupied island of Japan.
Two KJ’s had been popped by F-22’s already, hopefully before they had time to call in the fleet’s location, otherwise, inbound air to sea bombers would be already on their way…a thought that made everyone sweat.
“Poor bastards”, said Captain Lewinsky, the RIO onboard the EA-71 Whippoorwill, meaning the men and women serving aboard the slow ships twenty thousand feet below, “ It must suck to be sitting there waiting.”
Hart chuckled. “I’m sure they are saying the same things about us, after all, the hot seat is in the air right now, right?”
Captain Bakker chimed in, “ Hell no, boss ! This is the catbird seat!” His head was down in the scope, peering at the numbers and icons flashing past, and why not? The window he had to look out of was too small to see anything but some blue sky anyway, maybe a cloud now and again, or a tilting earth when the Colonel got crazy with the stick.
The massive combined forces of China and North Korea had steamrolled right over the islands of Japan not more than two weeks ago, and already, the United States and Canada had assembled a huge counterattack aimed at freeing up their allies country, and once again gaining a beachhead near the new Communist block. Russia, staying out of the conflict politically, had nevertheless “loaned” a number of fighters and support aircraft to the new conglomeration, with experienced pilots as well, supposedly as observers. “Yeah, right,” thought Hart, “they’d like to observe us in flames.” The soviet downfall wasn’t as joyful to the Russians as those in the west would like to believe.
“Picking up some intermittent contacts on 270, boss,” Bakker’s voice came over the intercom. Several red blips were heading toward the area they were patrolling, vectoring fighters over the fleet. F-22’s spun around the slower ships in a dance, while 35’s waited patiently on deck, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.
The Whippoorwill wasn’t as stealthy as some of the other jets, but from the surface it was almost impossible to detect, due to the flattened exhaust ports and curved, radar absorbing design. They were almost invisible to the enemy ships out there, but a high flying radar platform was another matter, hence the anxious tone in the Scanner’s voice.
“Oh hell. We’ve been hit by a Phalcon!” Lewinsky yelled. “Must be a C3 out there or a Mainstay.” The Fastwac raced forward, accelerating to Mach 2.6, Hart was leaning on the throttle.
“Where is that sonofabitch?” He yelled, “ Give me a vector!”
“Radar craft 37 miles, at 275. Tell the 22’s to AAARM the sucker.”
Mottled grey Canadian F-22’s flashed below them, opening weapon bays to release the air to air anti-radiation missiles. A full dozen were launched, little bright spots heading out into the distance…everyone wanted to kill the radar craft.
Two 35’s lifted off of the assault carrier, in case any support fighters came in too close. They hovered like protective hornets over a nest, a nest of marines ready to defeat the ground forces in Japan.
Aegis cruisers pulled out in front of the fleet, and missile launchers stood ready, waiting for any sign of incoming attack aircraft or missiles. The radars were on a limited mode, they depended on the fastwacs to supply them with information, an unparalleled advance warning system. Older EC-3’s flew higher in back of the fleet, and organized the defensive forces, the EA-71 was a purely offensive weapon. The Canadian assault carriers launched 5 more of their CV-122 Huskies, in case the submarine threat grew with the incoming battle group…they all knew how the Chinese loved combined attacks. The invasion of Taiwan had proved that well, overwhelming air power coupled with the huge ground support had the allies struggling still to maintain control of the area, and now, with Japan lost, there would be no base for the planned mass fleet of aircraft to operate from. This mission was critical.
“Trickle again, boss.” Captain Lewinsky muttered. “ I think they have us pegged.”
Bakker yelled out,” We’ve been swiped by a shootdown! They’re above us!”
Hart yanked his head and the stick back at the same time, the computer groaning as he took the huge airframe into a high climb.
“Must be a Mig 1.44”, he thought, “too fast for anything else.”
The cold and cool female voice came over the com, “warning, warning, inbound threats detected.”
“Time to turn and burn!” Hart hit the arming button for the Glamour missile. The light flashed green and then red, and he thumbed it again as the 71 raced for the clouds above. The heat pouring out from his engines was tremendous.
There was a lurch to the rear of the frame as the sleek Glamour left the platform, and fired off high above them.
“Cutting engines to supercruise” Hart said quietly into his lip mike. The smaller aircraft continued onwards on his original path, as the EA-71 slowly made it’s way down to the 20,000 foot level.
The Glamour broadcast a heat signature identical to that of the Whippoorwill, especially with both of it’s burners going full throttle in a climb. All three of the incoming missiles locked onto it and chased it higher and higher, until a bright burst of contact meant that it had been destroyed.
Far below, the EA-71 continued on, after vectoring some nearby F-23’s from the Utah National Guard to the complacent Mig pilot’s location. What a surprise they were in for, the 23 was almost invisible.
More flashes of light reflected off of the canopies, and Lewinsky said, “Scope clear, sir.”
The jet was smooth as silk beneath him, and Hart remarked, “ You know, I’ve always loved Ki-Rin beer.”