404 DALE BROWN

"Our last hazard on the run is the town of Matagalpa, where some Soviet troops could be garrisoned. Watch out for triple-A radars. SA- 14 or SA-7 shoulder-fired missiles may also be a factor but if we stay low and fast we should be able to beat an SA- 14.

"We'll approach Sebaco from the southeast side of the base.

Powell and McLanahan saw one antiaircraft artillery battery on each end of the runway-it'll be worth lobbing a HARM or even a Striker in there if it engages us. They also saw helicopter gunships on the base. These can carry air-to-air heat-seeking missiles too. Our targets are the three hangars on the southwest side of the base and the underground headquarters building three hundred yards southeast from the hangars. The hangars are primary. We'll also drop the CBU cluster-bomb units on the runway and the taxiway-parking ramp area, with emphasis on destroying any aircraft. If the defenses are minimal we can make a circle to the north or northeast and come around for another pass. After the attack, we beat feet to the northeast, terrain-follow in the Cordillera Isabella mountains, and exit along the Honduran border. If we're drowned and each module crew gets separated, evade north or northwest toward Honduras and get a ride to Tegucigalpa. We've all been briefed on the pick-up points in Nicaragua where we can maybe get assistance from Contadora sympathizers. We're using channel Charlie on the survival radios. "

They had time to prebrief the details of the mission and talk about their recommended actions in case they were shot down or somehow separated, but it was much different this time-they were actually over hostile territory, surrounded by the military forces of two nations. It had suddenly all become very real.

" -band search radar at six o'clock," Atkins called out.

Batwing symbol-there's a fighter up there looking for us."

"I. inbound, crew," Kellerman said. The Megafortress made a slight left turn, hugging the side of the rugged, tree-covered mountains.

Suddenly a green mushroom-shaped dome appeared briefly on Carter's windscreen. "Warning, search radar, twelve o'clock. " "We've got something out ahead of us," Carter called out.

"Looks like triple-A," Atkins Uid, studying his threat receiver. The computer confirmed it seconds later by drawing a tiny gun-icon underneath the green mushroom. "I've got a HARM aligning against it. " Just then, the mushroom turned yellow.

"Warning, threat radar tracking, twelve o'clock.

"Should we go around it?" Carter asked.

"No room," Cheshire said. "We'd have to climb five thousand feet to clear these mountains."

"Descend and accelerate," Atkins said. "Stand by for missile launch . . . now. "

The yellow BAY DOORS OPEN light came on. "Caution, bomb doors open..... warning, HARM missile launch command . . .

missile launch..... bomb doors closed."

"Missile away." The one-thousand-pound HARM missile was a yellow streak as it roared away into the darkness. Seconds later there was a splash of fire on the horizon and the glow of flames.

The yellow mushroom was gone.

"Warning, airborne threat radar, sU o'clock.

Karbayjal activated his fire-control radar and slaved it to the threat receiver so the beam from the tail-mounted tracking radar would look in the exact direction of the threat. The readout he got made him yell into his oxygen visor. "Fighter at six o'clock, five miles, descending rapidly." He hit the voice-command button on his armrest. "Radar lock. Airmine launch one. Launch two. Launch three."

A warning tone sounded on interphone, followed by the hard, short thuds of the Stinger airmine rockets being shot away. "Radar lock automatic . . . warning, launch command issued . . .

airmine launch . . . launch two . . . launch three."

But moments later the fighter was still coming-all three airmine rockets had missed. "He's still coming. Prepare for infrared missile attack," Karbayjal called out. "TWo miles . . . one mile . . . -break le now."

Carter yanked the Megafortress into a hard left turn. The terrain-following computer immediately commanded a climb to allow for terrain clearance. At the same time Karbayjal punched two flares and chaff out the right side ejectors.

"One mile . . . half mile . . . he's still coming." Nothing was decoying this guy-chaff, flares, jammers, even airmine rockets . . .

The fire-control radar tracked the fighter as it flew closer and closer, but a few seconds later the reason for its daringly close DALE BROWN

406

pass became obvious as Karbayjal watched the fighter's altitude wind down lower and lower until it finally read zero.

"He crashed," Karbayjal called out. "He-"

Suddenly they heard on the scrambled discrete strike frequency, "Dog Two, this is Storm Two. Your tail's clear."

"Powell. McLanahan." Cheshire shouted the names. "Way to go."

Carter let out his breath. He tasted blood and found he had bit his lower lip almost all the way through. As he steered the Megafortress back on course he opened the radio channel.-

"Thanks, guys. "

raised Cheetah's nose until he was level with the tops of the tree-covered mountains, making several tight turns left and right to clear behind them, searching for a second fighter.

McLanahan, his night-vision visor lowered, searched the sky behind the F-15. "Clear visually, clear on the threat receiver,"

he said.

"That MiG pilot had balls," said. "Diving down from twenty-thousand feet like that, it could have paid off for him."

"But where's his buddies?" McLanahan asked.

climbed another five-thousand feet, well above the mountains, and continued his clearing turns. He used the radar sparingly, relying more on the infrared-laser scanner to avoid telltale electronic emissions that could give away their location.

"Nothing. One MiG working alone? Unusual."

"They're not up here," McLanahan said. "That means they've got to be on the deck, flying down that same river valley as the Old Dog. We either use the radar to look for them . . . "

"Or we go down into the valley ourselves and dig 'em out,"

said. "I was afraid you'd say that." Powell lowered the nose once more, plunging Cheetah back into the jungle abyss below.

They had to dodge far south of course, around sprinkles of ore mines and tiny villages to avoid the spot where the antiaircraft artillery gun had been destroyed by one of the Old Dog's HARM

missiles. Carter set five hundred feet in the clearance plane to allow more leeway in terrain clearance as they roared through a high valley and across a ridge-line south of the town of Matagalpa.

DAY OF THE CHEETAH 407

"We should have met up with that SA- 10 site by now, " Atkins said nervously. The calm that he had restored in himself after the strike against the SA-15 site had come back full force after the MiG encounter. He was reproaching himself loud enough to trigger the voice-activated interphone, and KarbayJal had to reach across the aisle beside him and touch his shoulder, trying to calm him down. The navigators were quiet. Kellerman had to be prompted to activate the ground-mapping radar to check terrain. Scott was quiet too. He had activated his laser-scanner in preparation for the strike, but the scanner was not moving in any sort of search pattern.

"Nav, brief us on this axis of attack," Carter said, trying to bring his crew back together any way he could think of. "You said we're five miles south of course-how will this affect our attack plan?"

"What?

"Alicia, get with it," Carter said. "Brief the crew on the attack profile."

A strained pause, then: "We . . . we'll be heading more directly down the runway instead of perpendicular to it," she replied in a ragged voice. "The triple-A will be at our twelve o'clock. It might be harder to pick out from this direction.

"You hear that, Paul?"

11Y . . . yes.

"What else, Alicia?"

"The CBUs,- Kellerman said. "We should launch the first pod down the runway after we defeat the triple-A site. "

"I can designate the hangars on that pass," Scott put in. He could lock the gyro-stabilized laser-scanner on up to five different images, and no matter how the B-52 turned, the designated targets could be recalled and attacked at any time once they were back within range.

"And the smoke and fire should cover our turn when we line up on the target," Cheshire added.

Carter smiled behind his oxygen visor. "All right," he said.

"We're starting to sound like a combat crew again. Now let's do it and get out of here.

General Tret'yak stood in the control tower of his small airfield, presiding over preparations for the defense of Sebaco like a modem-day Nicholas 1, with his almost medieval forces, de-408 DALE BROWN

fending the battlements of Sevastopol in the Crimea against the then-high-tech forces of the upstart Napoleon III -and the unstoppable if inept British. He fancied the defense of Sebaco as a symbol of Soviet power in the western hemisphere, and he was going to repel the invaders of his twenty-five-square-kilometer airfield.

His forces were at the ready, poised for battle as soon as the message from Puerto Cabezas had been received. An exact number of attackers could not be determined-Tret'yak had been bracing for an entire carrier air wing of bombers, but no reports of an American fleet within striking range of Sebaco had been reported. That meant it was a smaller, less formidable strike force on the way, perhaps only a few aircraft. Good-his forces could handle that.

To counter the American attackers, four MiG-23s were idling at the northwest end of the runway, each loaded with four AA-8

missiles on fuselage stations and two infrared-guided close-range AA-" missiles on underwing pylons, plus a twin-barreled GSh-23 gun and a centerfine fuel tank. Two more were in reserve, cannibalized for parts earlier but quickly being repaired and readied for combat.

In addition to the fighters Tret'yak had an SA-8 surface-to-air missile-battery brought up from Managua situated near the center of the runway on a small hill about a kilometer north of the field. The SA-8 was a small, fast missile, capable of destroying the American navy's F/A-18 Hornet fighter-bomber even during a supersonic bomb run. The SA-10 missile site had been moved

.once again, down from the hills above Sebaco into the Rio TV=

river valley, and it appeared they had positioned it perfectly-any aircraft flying toward Sebaco from Puerto Cabezas had to fly down that valley, right into the jaws of the SA-10 system.

The SA-10 was a longer-range missile, capable of defeating attackers from treetop level up to eighty thousand feet. For close-in defense, they still had the two fifty-seven-millimeter guns on each end of the runway, which could create a virtual wall of lead around Sebaco for two miles.

They had other defenses, including Nicaraguan anti-air artillery units deployed in three areas around Sebaco. One of them was located in the Rio Tuma valley, again in perfect position to engage the American attackers.

Tret'yak's forces were in excellent position.

DAY OF THE CHEETAH 409

"Message from People's Militia Group seven, sir," an aide reported.

"Who?

"The Nicaraguan militia force northeast of the base, in Matagalpa, " the aide replied. "They report they are under attack.

One ZSU-23 anti-aircraft artillery unit destroyed, nine casualties, ten wounded by rocket attack."

"I need details, Lieutenant," Tret'yak said. "What kind of rockets? What kind of aircraft? Speed? Direction?"

As the aide turned to the radio operator, Tret'yak checked his chart of the area, then looked to the tower controller. "Clear the flight for launch, Sergeant. Send them down the Rio Ibma valley and engage the intruders at low altitude."

The controller nodded, picked up his microphone and said in Spanish, "Sebaco flight of four, target at heading zero-nine-five, range twenty miles, cleared-"

Suddenly they saw a flash of light north of the runway, followed by a streak of fire. One of the SA-8 missiles leaped off its launch rail and roared toward the southeast, the missile so low and flying in such a flat trajectory that it looked as if it would hit one of the hangars. The first group of two MiG-23s, which had already gone into afterburner and had begun their takeoff roll, abruptly pulled their engines out of afterburner and stopped as the SA-8 missile roared across the departure end of the runway.

"Missile site two engaging low-altitude targets," the radio operator reported, "bearing one-six-zero true, range twenty kilometers.

"I can see that," Tret'yak shouted. "Get those fighters airborne.

"Missile-site two reports multiple targets, sir. They recommend holding the launch until they engage again-"

"No." Then to be on the safe side Tret'yak said, "Tell missile site two to hold fire to let two aircraft depart. Launch aircraft one and two. Tell three and four to hold position. Get five and six ready for takeoff."

The controller called out the new orders, and soon the first two MiG-23s were in afterburner once again and roaring down the runway.

"Afterburner blowout on fighter two," Tret'yak's aide called out. Only one glowing engine was visible in the nighttime sky.