spending a tour in a Navy fighter squadron, ostensibly to show the squids how to fly.
He was flying lead in a second flight of Tomcats. The Marine fighter pilot, who normally flew the potent F/A-18 Hornet, enjoyed flying the big Grumman Tomcat. The F-14 had been a new challenge for him.
Rog, Animal. Glad the cavalry could make it, Karns chuckled, recognizing the call sign of Cangemi. Thought you 'jar-heads' were s'posed to be the first to fight.
The marine started to respond, then changed his mind as he focused on the Soviet aircraft.
Back off about three hundred yards and confirm guns off, switches safe, Karns instructed the Animals.
That's affirm, off and safe, Cangemi answered.
Two, Lt. Tom Chaffee, USN, responded.
At that precise moment, the Russian bombers abruptly turned into the American fighters, forcing Karns to spiral inward or risk collision.
Reacting with remarkable dexterity, Karns simultaneously rolled his fighter away from the bombers and radioed CIC.
Tango Fox, Tango Fox, Gunfighter One! These crazy sonsabitches are makin' a run at the battle group, Karns shouted into his mask microphone. I need permission to fire! Repeat, I need permission to splash 'em.
Roger, Gunfighter. Stand by, the distant voice responded .through Karns's padded earphones.
Karns waited uncomfortably for a response to his urgent request, visualizing the odd group of individuals in the decisionmaking process.
Guess the operator put us on ignore, Bonicelli said over the intercom, breathing more rapidly than normal.
Gunfighter, Tango Fox, the staccato voice blurted. You have permission to fire a warning shot at fifty TIME. I repeat, you have permission to fire a Sidewinder in front of the bombers.
If the Russians break thirty miles, shoot 'em down. Do you copy?
Linnemeyer asked.
Roger, Tango Fox. Copy warning shot and plug 'em if they break thirty, three-zero from mother, Karns replied with a strange mixture of relief and adrenaline-pumping emotion.
That's affirm, Gunfighter, the captain replied. Let me know when you fire.
Wilco, Tango Fox, Karns responded. Okay, Hersh, you ease back on Animal's wing. You guys be in position to take these clowns out if they stuff one up our ass.
Karns waited tensely for Hershberger and Animal Flight to reposition themselves. The Tomcats slowly drifted behind the Russian formation.
Animals in place, Cangemi stated. Okay, guys, looks like this is the main event. Let's go master arm on and ease back a tad.
Cangemi slowly dropped back into a good firing position-low and looking at the tailpipes of the Russian fighter planes.
Feeling a tightness in his throat, Cangemi took a quick look at his instrument panel, then concentrated on the Mig flight leader.
Gun One is movin' up under uncle Ivan's left wing. I want the friggin' son of a bitch to see me. These idiots can't be very bright, Karns radioed CIC and his fellow pilots as he inched the throttles forward, moving under and forward of the left wing of the behemoth.
Karns noted the bright red star painted on the huge jet intake as he jockeyed his Tomcat into view of the Russian pilot.
The fighter pilot had never been so close to any Russian bomber, let alone a Backfire. It was colossal in size. The bomber weighed 270,000 pounds and stretched 130 feet. Its size alone was intimidating, without considering the tremendous firepower it possessed.
Okay, comradski, look over here, Karns said, speaking softly over the radio. Come on, you son-of-a-bitch, I don't want to fire any hot lead.
Yeah, Cangemi agreed. If we get wrapped around the axle this close in, it'll be a knife fight in a telephone booth.
Torgovnik glanced briefly at the American fighter plane, wincing at the proximity of the crazy American. The bomber commander judged the Navy fighter plane to be no more than twenty meters from his craft. Keeping his head straight forward, Torgovnik formulated his thoughts as he kept the Tomcat in his periphery.
Comrade Major, Torgovnik said
He was flying lead in a second flight of Tomcats. The Marine fighter pilot, who normally flew the potent F/A-18 Hornet, enjoyed flying the big Grumman Tomcat. The F-14 had been a new challenge for him.
Rog, Animal. Glad the cavalry could make it, Karns chuckled, recognizing the call sign of Cangemi. Thought you 'jar-heads' were s'posed to be the first to fight.
The marine started to respond, then changed his mind as he focused on the Soviet aircraft.
Back off about three hundred yards and confirm guns off, switches safe, Karns instructed the Animals.
That's affirm, off and safe, Cangemi answered.
Two, Lt. Tom Chaffee, USN, responded.
At that precise moment, the Russian bombers abruptly turned into the American fighters, forcing Karns to spiral inward or risk collision.
Reacting with remarkable dexterity, Karns simultaneously rolled his fighter away from the bombers and radioed CIC.
Tango Fox, Tango Fox, Gunfighter One! These crazy sonsabitches are makin' a run at the battle group, Karns shouted into his mask microphone. I need permission to fire! Repeat, I need permission to splash 'em.
Roger, Gunfighter. Stand by, the distant voice responded .through Karns's padded earphones.
Karns waited uncomfortably for a response to his urgent request, visualizing the odd group of individuals in the decisionmaking process.
Guess the operator put us on ignore, Bonicelli said over the intercom, breathing more rapidly than normal.
Gunfighter, Tango Fox, the staccato voice blurted. You have permission to fire a warning shot at fifty TIME. I repeat, you have permission to fire a Sidewinder in front of the bombers.
If the Russians break thirty miles, shoot 'em down. Do you copy?
Linnemeyer asked.
Roger, Tango Fox. Copy warning shot and plug 'em if they break thirty, three-zero from mother, Karns replied with a strange mixture of relief and adrenaline-pumping emotion.
That's affirm, Gunfighter, the captain replied. Let me know when you fire.
Wilco, Tango Fox, Karns responded. Okay, Hersh, you ease back on Animal's wing. You guys be in position to take these clowns out if they stuff one up our ass.
Karns waited tensely for Hershberger and Animal Flight to reposition themselves. The Tomcats slowly drifted behind the Russian formation.
Animals in place, Cangemi stated. Okay, guys, looks like this is the main event. Let's go master arm on and ease back a tad.
Cangemi slowly dropped back into a good firing position-low and looking at the tailpipes of the Russian fighter planes.
Feeling a tightness in his throat, Cangemi took a quick look at his instrument panel, then concentrated on the Mig flight leader.
Gun One is movin' up under uncle Ivan's left wing. I want the friggin' son of a bitch to see me. These idiots can't be very bright, Karns radioed CIC and his fellow pilots as he inched the throttles forward, moving under and forward of the left wing of the behemoth.
Karns noted the bright red star painted on the huge jet intake as he jockeyed his Tomcat into view of the Russian pilot.
The fighter pilot had never been so close to any Russian bomber, let alone a Backfire. It was colossal in size. The bomber weighed 270,000 pounds and stretched 130 feet. Its size alone was intimidating, without considering the tremendous firepower it possessed.
Okay, comradski, look over here, Karns said, speaking softly over the radio. Come on, you son-of-a-bitch, I don't want to fire any hot lead.
Yeah, Cangemi agreed. If we get wrapped around the axle this close in, it'll be a knife fight in a telephone booth.
Torgovnik glanced briefly at the American fighter plane, wincing at the proximity of the crazy American. The bomber commander judged the Navy fighter plane to be no more than twenty meters from his craft. Keeping his head straight forward, Torgovnik formulated his thoughts as he kept the Tomcat in his periphery.
Comrade Major, Torgovnik said
Similar Books
Ole Doc Methuselah
L. Ron Hubbard
Sweet Hell on Fire
Sara Lunsford
Anzac's Dirty Dozen
Craig Stockings
Riptide
Cherry Adair
The Life and Times of Innis E. Coxman
R. P. Lester
FriendlySeduction
Gillian Archer
Justice Falling
Audrey Carlan
Agent X
Noah Boyd
Savage Smoke
Kay Dee Royal
