[Matt Wiser]

Getting ready for the next mission:




335th TFS: 0850 Hours Central War Time:


Major Wiser was in his office, and was glad to see one particular item of paperwork cross his desk. Supply had come through-for once, and the two horizontal stabilizers for Kerry Collins' shot-up bird would be arriving tomorrow. Good: the sooner that bird was fixed, the squadron would have twenty-two birds flying, and he'd finally be able to form two new crews with the extra people he already had. The CO was mentally deciding on some tentative crew assignments when there was a knock on his office door. “Yeah? Show yourself and come in!”

Jana Wendt, the reporter attached to the squadron, came in. '”Bad time, Major?”

“Not at all,” Guru said. “Always time for the Fourth Estate. What can I do for you?” He was recalling the directives from Tenth Air Force about dealing with the news media, and one of those said, “Be polite and reasonable.”

“Just letting you know: your interview airs in Sydney tomorrow night, Texas time, and the following night? On CBS.”

“Took long enough,” the CO said. “Network being slow?”

The reporter shrugged. “They didn't tell me, Though they were more interested in the report we did during that air raid,” Wendt said, referring to a Soviet air strike on Sheppard, when the reporter and crew had disdained the shelters, and had caught some of the raid on tape.

“And let me guess: you were upset you weren't live?”

“You're right, Major. I did go on the air about an hour later, but they wanted a full report on the raid. Apart from some submarine activity, and Spetsnatz?”

Guru nodded. “That's the term. Soviet Special Forces. They're the meanest and toughest killers Ivan has.”

“Okay, thanks. Apart from that, and the subs, Australia hasn't seen much of the war. Just what we see on the news,” Wendt said. “Same for New Zealand.”

The CO understood. “Just as long as they liked the show.”

“They did,” Ms. Wendt grinned. “So, you getting ready for another go?”

“Almost time,” Guru said. “Southeast Asia wasn't like this, they say. One, maybe two missions 'Up North', a day. If you were in South Vietnam? You might get three or four.”

Wendt nodded. “And from what General Olds told me in his interview? Hanoi was the most heavily defended airspace in history, even more than Berlin was, and he says this can be as bad.”

'In some areas, yeah. But talk to the guys who fly for SAC into Russia. At least here? If we go down, we have a chance either for a rescue or joining up with the Resistance. There? If you go down, you are either dead or in a Gulag,” Guru reminded the reporter.

“I may just do that, when my time here's done,” Ms. Wendt said. “If, that is, they'll let them talk to the media.”

Guru knew what she was talking about. SAC did publicize its missions into Russia, but it was still cautious about what it let the crews discuss with the media. “For good reason.” Then there was another knock. '”Yeah?”

Capt. Kevin O'Donnell, the Squadron Maintenance Officer, came in. “Boss, we're getting to work on Kerry's bird. All we're missing is the two stabilizers.”

“Get what you can done. Because those stabilizers are due in tomorrow. And yeah, I know, it's a three-day job,” Guru said, handing the maintenance officer the paper he had scanned. “Ms. Wendt, you didn't hear that.”

“Hear what?” She replied, and the two officers grinned.

“Good to know you can be deaf when necessary,” Guru said, and the trio laughed.


After the reporter and the Maintenance Officer had left, the Exec, Capt. Mark Ellis, came in. “Boss,”

“Mark,” Guru said, “Whatcha got for me?”

“First, Ross came through on the stabilizers,” the Exec said.

Guru handed him the paper he'd shown Kerry Collins. “Supply, for once, beat him to it. Be here tomorrow.”

“Must be our lucky day,” Ellis replied. “Supply on their tails for once.”

“Just hope that when I kick Frank out of the squadron, he doesn't wind up there,” the CO reminded the Exec. “That's the only problem with transferring him out: I'd be inflicting him on a fellow officer who'd be wondering what he'd done to deserve Frank showing up.”

“Collateral damage, I'd say.”

“General Olds said the exact same thing,” Guru said. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, speaking of Frank, he's filed another complaint. Seems he overheard some of us talking about either enlisting our mascot or making him an honorary Captain.” Ellis handed the CO a paper. “As if he's got other things to worry about.”

“Like SA-11s or MiG-29s showing up,” deadpanned Guru. “You know where to put that BS,” He nodded towards the office shredder.

Ellis took the paper and fed it into the office shredder. “What'd the reporter want to know?”

“Just letting me know that the interview that she did with me and Goalie airs in Sydney tomorrow, our time, and on CBS the day after that.”

“Well, now, looks like you two get your fifteen minutes of fame on two continents,” the XO said.

“And the GRU adds that to the files they have on the two of us in Moscow,” Guru reminded him. “Every officer commissioned prewar has a file on them at GRU headquarters, in all likelihood. And that includes you.”

“It does.”

“Okay, anything else?”

The XO shook his head. “That's it.”

Just then, Kara came in. “Boss, we've got a mission.”

Guru stood up. “And we have someplace to be. Round everybody up. Briefing Room in ten.”

“I'm gone,” Kara replied. She ran out the office door.

“Good luck, Boss,” Ellis said. “Not ready to be CO yet.”

“And I'm not ready to break in Don as Exec.”


The CO went to the Ops Office, and found the Ops Officer waiting. “Major,” Capt. Don Van Loan said.

“Don,” Guru replied. “What have you got for me?”

Van Loan handed the CO a briefing packet. “Going back to the East German sector. Stephenville Municipal Airport. Not only is it supporting chopper and transport ops, but Su-25s are staging through it again.”

Guru scanned the summary. “We've hit this place before.”

“Yeah, and so have the A-6s and F-111s. They keep bringing it back online. You're going as a four-ship, and no Weasels.”

“Let me guess: the Weasels are all busy.” It wasn't a question from the CO's viewpoint.

“Right you are, Boss.” Van Loan replied.

Guru nodded. “Okay, Don. Oh, I need to file a flight plan with MAG-11 Ops.” Van Loan handed the CO the form, and he quickly filled out the form. “Right after we get back from this one. I want my flight turned around-fuel and any air-to-air ordnance expended replaced. We're taking General Olds on his 'Check ride.'”

“Going to hassle with those F-20s?”

“Something like that,” the CO grinned. “Teach those young punks a lesson.”

Van Loan winced at that. “Well, I've flown with those 'young punks.' They're good. Remember what you keep saying about overconfidence?”

“I know. But, when one of those young punks-either Clancy or Pruitt-declares the F-20 'Greatest since the P-51'?” Asked the CO. “Somebody's got to teach them a lesson on overconfidence.”

“And it might just as well be you and General Olds.”

“You got it.” Guru let out an evil-looking grin.

“Well, good luck on the mission, and the, uh, 'check ride,” Said van Loan.

“Thanks.”


Guru went to his flight's briefing room, and found Buddy there, sitting by the door. The CO opened the door, and the dog went in ahead of him. Then he entered, and found the rest of his flight there. “Folks, we've got a visitor,” he nodded to the dog. “And we've got a mission.”

“Where to?” Sweaty asked.

“Someplace we've been before. Stephenville Municipal Airport,” Guru said. “We've hit it a couple of times, and the F-111s or A-6s have as well. But the East Germans are tough, because they keep getting it back operational.”

Kara nodded. “So what's flying from there?” She wanted to know, and others nodded as well.

“Choppers, for one thing, along with light transports like the An-24 or -26, and the L-410. And Su-25s have been staging through there,” replied the CO. “So we get to put it out of action for a couple of days.”

“Ingress route?” Goalie asked. Since she was the lead navigator, it was a natural question to ask.

Guru showed the route, using a TPC chart and a JOG map. “We follow the Brazos River, staying in the Nicaraguan sector until we hit Lake Whitney. Turn west, and pass the town of Meridan, here,” the CO said, tapping with a pen. “Go west to Hico, then turn north and follow U.S. 281. Pop-up point is five miles south of town. We pull up, hit the target, then get your asses north as quick as you can.”

“Sounds good,” Hoser said. “Defenses?”

“Two 57-mm batteries, and those have been hit by CBUs, so they may, and I do emphasize may, not have a full compliment of guns. There's also two 23-mm batteries, and MANPADS. This is also in the East German Army-level formation's rear, so SA-4s are around.”

There were several scowls at that. “Nice, Boss,” KT said. “We getting any Weasels?”

“Nope, just us,” Guru said. “We stay low, use our ECM pods, and that should take care of Mr. SA-4. The MiG threat is still the same from this morning, by the way.”

“Just about to ask,” Kara said. “But you did mention helos?”

The CO nodded. “Hips and possible Hinds.”

“A kill's a kill,” Brainiac, Kara's WSO, said, grinning. They were always looking to add to their kill sheet.

“Don't go out of your way, though,” the CO said firmly. “Remember what I said about flak traps.”

“Got it,” Kara said.

“Good,” the CO said. “Make sure you do. Now, ordnance load and specific aimpoints. Element leads get a dozen Rockeye CBUs. Wingmates get a dozen Mark-82 Snakeyes. I'll take the northern ramp area, Sweaty? You take the south.”

Sweaty nodded. “We'll get 'em, Boss.”

“Do that. Kara? You walk your bombs across the hangars. I know, they got taken out last time, but Ivan or Franz just cleared the wreckage, put new frames up, and lined them with corrugated metal. And bingo! Instant hangar.”

Brainiac looked at Kara, who nodded. “We'll take them out.”

“Okay, Hoser? I hate to leave a runway intact, but what good's a working runway if there's no fuel?” He tapped on a photo of the target. “Fuel dump's to the east of the runway. It's yours.”

Hoser and KT looked at each other and nodded. “Will do, Boss,”

“All right. We'll have the usual air-to-air load: four AIM-9Ps, two AIM-7Es, and we are getting Fs next week, by the way. Two wing tanks, full cannon load, and ALQ-119 pods for the leads, and -101s for the wingies,” Guru said. “Bailout areas: same as usual. Anywhere rural and away from roads.”

Kara nodded. “And after that, we take General Olds up on his 'Check ride.'”

“We do. We'll do a quick debrief and a combat turnaround, get the General geared up and ready, then we go.”

“Sounds good,” Sweaty grinned.

“One mission at a time, people!” The CO reminded them. “Anything else?” Heads shook no. “Then let's gear up. We all have somewhere to be.” As he gathered the briefing materials, Guru noticed the dog, curled up on the floor and fast asleep. “Let's hope he's like Roscoe.”

“What do you mean by that?” KT asked.

Goalie explained the story of Roscoe, the Korat mascot during the long war in SEA. “They said that if he slept through a briefing, it was an easy ride. If he woke up or paid attention? It was going to be a bad one.”

After turning in the briefing material, Guru went to the Men's Locker Room to gear up. When he came out, Goalie was there, geared up and ready. “You ready?”

“Time to fly,” she grinned. “And let's hope Buddy's the same as Roscoe.”

“You, me, and everyone else,” the CO said.

As Pilot and GIB left the office, the dog followed, but when they left the lawn, the dog sat down, as if waiting. “Good omen?” Guru asked.

“Ought to be,” Goalie replied.


CO and GIB walked to the dispersal area, and found the rest of the flight waiting at the revetment for the CO's bird, 512. “Okay, gather 'round,” Guru said. He was giving his final instructions.

“Usual procedures on the radio,” Kara said. It wasn't a question.

“Right you are.” That meant mission code to AWACS and other interested parties, but call signs between them.

“So, after this one, we get to eat some Tigersharks,” Hoser asked.

The CO frowned, then said, “One misison at a time, and remember about complacency,” he reminded them. “But.....when someone like Clancy or Pruitt-or both-declares the F-20 'Greatest since the P-51', then they need to be cut down to size.”

Kara grinned. “And we're the ones to do that.”

“Exactly,” Guru replied. “Focus on what's next, then we teach those young punks a lesson. Anything else?” Heads shook no. The CO clapped his hands. “All right! Let's go get 'em. Meet at ten grand overhead. Time to hit it.”

The crews headed to their aircraft, and Guru and Goalie went into the revetment and found 512's Crew Chief, Staff Sergeant Crowley, waiting. “Major, Lieutenant?” Crowley asked, snapping a salute. “Five-twelve's ready to rock.”

“Thanks, Sarge,” Guru said, returning the salute, as did Goalie. Pilot and GIB did their walk-around, then the CO signed for the aircraft. Then they mounted the aircraft, and the ground crew helped them get strapped in, while the crew donned their helmets and plugged in their oxygen masks and radio headsets. Then it was time for the preflight checklist.

As they went through it, Goalie said, “This one reminds me of what they told us at the Academy about strikes like ROLLING THUNDER. Hit a target, then you find out the Viets went out and repaired it, and a few days later, you hit it again.”

“Cycle repeats,” Guru acknowledged. He'd heard the same thing in OTS and in fighter training.

“It does,” Goalie said. “Ejection seats?”

“Armed top and bottom. Check yours. Arnie and INS?”

“All set,” replied Goalie. “Preflight complete and ready for engine start.”

Guru replied, “Roger that.” He gave a thumbs-up to Sergeant Crowley, who gave him the “Start Engines” signal in return. Guru hit the engine starters, and first, one, then two, J-79 engines were up and running. When the warm-up was complete, Guru called the tower. “Tower, Corvette Flight with four, requesting taxi and takeoff instructions.”

The tower replied at once. “Corvette Lead, Tower. Clear to taxi to Runway Three-Five-Lima. Hold prior to the active, and you are number three in line.”

“Roger, Tower. Corvette Flight rolling.” Guru gave another thumbs-up to his Crew Chief, who signaled to the ground crew, who pulled the chocks away from the wheels. Then Crowley gave the “Taxi” signal, and Guru taxied 512 out of the revetment. Once clear, Crowley snapped a salute, then gave another thumbs-up.

Pilot and GIB returned the salute, then Guru taxied to the runway, with the rest of the flight following. When they got to the holding area, there was a Marine F-4 flight and a Navy A-7 flight ahead of them. But before the Marines could taxi, four F-20s came in to land. “Yeager's people coming back.”

“Remind me to find out when they leave,” Guru said. “I have an idea about maybe running them out of gas, or jumping them just before they're BINGO on fuel.”

In the back seat, Goalie grinned. “You can be a sneaky bastard.”

“Got to be one when I was Exec.” Guru said as he watched the F-20s taxi off, then the Marines taxied onto the runway, then they took off. Then the Navy A-7As went, then it was their turn. In the holding area, the armorers removed the weapon safeties, and that meant their ordnance was now live. Then Guru called the Tower. “Tower, Corvette Flight requesting clear for taxi and takeoff.”

“Corvette Flight, Tower. Clear to taxi for takeoff. Winds are two-seven-two for eight.”

“Roger, Tower.” Guru replied. He taxied 512 onto the runway, and Kara followed in 520. A final cockpit check, then a glance at Kara and Brainiac in their Five O'clock. They gave a thumbs-up to 512's crew, and it was returned. Time. “Tower, Corvette Lead requesting clear for takeoff.”

As usual, the Tower didn't reply by radio, but flashed a green light. Clear for takeoff.

“Canopy coming down,” Goalie said as she closed and locked her canopy.

“Got it,” Guru replied, pulling his own canopy down and locked. A quick glance at 520 showed Kara's bird ready. “All set?”

“Let's go,” Goalie replied.

“Then let's do it,” Guru said. He firewalled the throttles forward, released the brakes, and 512 rumbled down the runway and into the air, with 520 right with them. Thirty seconds later, it was the turn of Sweaty's element. The flight met up at FL 100, then headed south for the tanker track.