[Matt Wiser]

The next one, and the 335th takes a couple of hits:



West of Greenville, Texas, 1515 Hours Central War Time:


Corvette Flight had a quick trip back to the holding area, and after Guru had checked in with both AWACS and then Hillsboro, had been told to get in line. After getting in line at 25,000 feet, they had listened in to strikes going in, and were past 17,000 when they heard Dodge Flight, which was normally Mark Ellis' flight, but with his plane damaged, his second element had gone out as a two-ship, going in. The two Phantoms had just made their runs when Dodge Two-three, who was 1st Lt. Bryan Woods, called “Dodge Two-four is down.”

“Oh, shit!” Goalie said over the IC in 512.

“I'll second that,” Guru said. Then an SAR beeper came over the radio. “Somebody got out. Crystal Palace, Corvette One-one.”

The AWACS controller replied. “Corvette, Crystal Palace. We heard it. Jollys on the way.” That meant the HH-3 or HH-53 Jolly Green Giant rescue choppers.

'Roger that,” Guru replied. “Dodge Two-three, Corvette Lead. What happened?”

“Corvette, Dodge. Don't know, Boss,” Woods replied. “He called off target, then said he was taking fire. Next thing I hear is the beeper.”

“Copy that, Dodge. Hold at Lavon Lake if you have the fuel. If you can't, RTB.”

'Roger, Corvette. Will orbit.”

“Lead, Three,” Sweaty called. “We going to help out?”

“Flight, Lead. Only if the FAC tells us we're needed. Still got a job to do.”

“Copy, Lead,” Kara replied.

Three, copy,” Sweaty added.

“Four, Roger,” Hoser said.

They kept descending as others ahead of them got called in by FACs, and when Corvette Flight got to 10,000 feet, the ABCCC controller got a hold of Guru. “Corvette One-one, Hillsboro. We have tasking for you.”

“Roger that,” Guru replied. “What have you got?”

“Contact Nail Seven-one for tasking.”

“Copy, Nail Seven-one,” Guru replied. “Goalie, do me a favor.”

“Name it,” his GIB said.

“Use your radio and get on the CSAR frequency,” Guru said. “Try and listen in.”

“Will do,” Goalie replied.

“Nail Seven-one, Corvette Lead.”

“Corvette, Nail Seven-one, I copy. Say aircraft and type of ordnance, please.”

Nail, Corvette Flight is four Foxtrot-Four Echoes, with twelve Mark-8-2 Snakeyes and full air-to-air each airplane. Can give you one pass in the target area,” Guru said.

“Roger that, Corvette. I have mixed tanks and APCs moving northeast, east of the F.M. 36-F.M. 2276 intersection,” the FAC told Guru.

“Copy, Nail. Say ground-to-air threat?” Guru had heard one of his planes shot down, and sure didn't want any more sharing that fate this day.

“Corvette, Nail. Threat is mixed. Some radar SAMs are now in the area. Mostly guns and MANPADS at present,” the FAC replied.

“Roger that. One pass, south to north,” Guru told the FAC.

“Your call, Corvette. Marking the target now,” the FAC said.

Guru and the rest of the flight watched as an A-7K orbited the area, then rolled in and fired two rockets, with WP exploding amidst the armor below. “Nail, Corvette. Have Willie Pete in sight.”

“Roger, Corvette, they're yours.”

“Goalie, anything?” Guru asked his GIB.

“Jolly inbound. Two HH-3s coming in with Cobras in support,” Goalie replied.

“Okay, back to work,” Guru said. “Set everything up. All in one pass.”

“Roger that,” Goalie replied. She worked the backseater's armament controls. “All set here”

“Good girl,” Guru said. “Flight, Lead. Target is marked and in sight. Follow me in. Lead is in hot!” He rolled 512 in onto the target.


Below, the 1278th Motor-Rifle Regiment was assuming a hasty defense, as the 204th MRD had run into serious American resistance, and two regiments had been shot to pieces, and the regiment had been ordered to hold in place, along with the 1180th Tank Regiment. The tank regiment was moving into position on their right flank so as to be able to counterattack, but their old T-54As would likely be facing M-60A3s or the IPM-1.

The regimental commander, a Colonel who had been with the 41st Guards Tank Division before this division had been mobilized, was concerned. He had no accurate information on the enemy, other than two regiments had been ahead of his own, and both had been shattered by American air and fire strikes before encountering the enemy defenses, and now the Americans were reportedly moving in a counterattack of their own. His regiment, with old T-54As and “monkey model” BMP-1s originally meant for export, was in for it. But his air defense people were in high spirits, as the last American air attack on the regiment had an F-4 shot down, and though a parachute had been seen, the pilot was about a kilometer at least in front of the regiment, and though regimental reconnaissance was out, a downed pilot was the least of their concerns, with a reported brigade of American armor and mechanized infantry coming at the regiment. He had just ordered his battalions to stand-to when he noticed white phosphorous exploding on his unit's positions. That meant an air attack inbound. But where? He never saw the F-4s coming in on his regiment until it was too late....

Guru rolled 512 in, and saw the tanks and BMPs. He couldn't make out any obvious command groups, so he picked out some BMPs and lined them up in his pipper. “Steady....Steady..”

“No flak?” Goalie asked.

“Not yet...” replied Guru. “And...HACK!” He hit the pickle button and a dozen Mark-82 Snakeyes came off 512's racks. He pulled up and away, towards I-30, and called, “Lead's off target.”

The Soviet Colonel ducked into his command vehicle as an F-4 came over and released a dozen five-hundred pound bombs onto his Second Battalion. Several BMPs exploded from direct hits or were flipped onto their sides by the force of the blasts, while bodies were tossed like rags in the wind. Only then did he yell into his throat mike, “AIRCRAFT ALARM!”

“SHACK!” Goalie yelled.

“Secondaries?” Guru asked as he headed for the I-30 line.

“Can't tell,” Goalie said. Then she looked at their One O'clock. “Jollys at One, and they're going to work.”

Guru glanced in that direction. He saw an HH-3E helo moving into hover, while Army AH-1s were either making rocket passes or using their 20-mm guns. “Good,” said Guru. If they did their job, he'd only have one letter to write....

“Two's in!” Kara called. She rolled 520 in, and as she saw Guru's bird pull away, she noticed where he'd planted his bombs. Right behind that was a battalion's worth of tanks, probably the regiment's tank battalion. How nice of them to deploy in the open.....Kara lined up the center company in her pipper, and even a thirty-year old T-54 couldn't stand up to a Mark-82 if laid down right...and just before she hit the pickle button, she noticed tracers coming up. Tankers using their machine guns. “Not today, she muttered. “And....HACK!” A dozen more Mark-82s landed on the Soviet regiment. “Two's off” she called as she pulled 520 out and headed north.

The Soviet regimental commander watched with a mix of admiration and anger as Kara's F-4 pulled away from its run. Admiration for the pilots, who were disregarding the tracers from machine guns and small-arms fire from his men as they made their runs, and anger at the losses being inflicted. The Colonel saw two tanks take direct hits from bombs and blow apart, while another tank's external fuel tank was sliced open by shrapnel, and exploded, drenching the T-54 in flaming fuel. A couple of other tanks shared that fate, and another tank had driven into a bomb crater and was thus immobilized. Watching this, the Colonel knew it wasn't over yet, as more aircraft were bound to come in.

“GOOD HITS!” Shouted Brainiac from 520's back seat.

“Secondaries?” Kara asked as she followed the CO out of the target area.

“Looks like a couple,” her GIB said. “Hey, Jolly at One.”

Kara glanced at her One O'clock, and saw an HH-3 Jolly Green with someone on its rescue hoist, then she turned to follow Guru out. “They got somebody.”

“Who?”

“We'll find out on the ground.”


“Three's in hot!” Called Sweaty as she rolled in on her run. As she did, she noticed flak to the right, 57-mm by the looks of it. Ignoring it, Sweaty picked out what looked like Regimental artillery deployed, and those were towed guns. As she lined up a battery in her pipper, a couple of SA-7s came up, but with no all-aspect seekers, the SA-7 was just fireworks, though Preacher involuntarily ducked in the back seat as the missiles flew past the F-4. “Not today, Ivan..” Sweaty lined up the guns and hit the pickle button. 'HACK!” More Mark-82s fell onto the Soviet regiment, and she pulled away, “Three's off!”

The Colonel's chief of staff tapped him on the shoulder, and pointed to the rear. Both saw Sweaty's F-4 pulling away, and a dozen bombs exploding on the regiment's artillery battalion. One battery position was covered in smoke and debris as bombs landed on the battery, and exploded not just the old M-20 122-mm howitzers, but ready ammunition, and some of the prime movers and ammunition trucks. The Colonel was in a rage, as his own regiment's anti-aircraft battery consisted of old BTR-152s with ZU-23s mounted on top, and, lacking the Strela-1 (SA-9) battery, had an extra air defense platoon with soldiers armed with Strela-2 (SA-7) missiles. A couple of Strela-2s followed the F-4 as it streaked away to the north, but failed to hit.

“SHACK! Great Hits!” Preacher called from the back seat.

“Secondaries?” Sweaty asked as she headed for I-30.

“Big ones! You hit the ammo trucks!” Preacher replied.

“Good!”

“
Four's in!' Hoser called, and as he came in, he, too, noticed the flak. He ignored it so he could concentrate on the bomb run, and decided to hit the guns his element lead had gone after. Hoser lined up another battery in his pipper, and KT was calling out the altitude, and she also saw the flak coming up, not just ahead of them, but to their right. Hoser lined up another battery of guns in his pipper, and, despite the tracers and the flak, hit the pickle button. “HACK!” Twelve more Mark-82s landed on the Soviet artillery battalion, and Hoser pulled away, “Four off target,”


The Soviet Colonel watched as Hoser's F-4 came in and released its bombs, and again, bombs landed on one of his artillery batteries. Guns and gunners were tossed around like toys, while ready ammunition and ammunition trucks went off in secondary explosions. As he watched the F-4 pull away, it was bracketed by anti-aircraft fire from the nearby tank regiment and its ZSU-57-2s.

“SHACK!” KT called, “We got secondaries! Break left!”

“What?” Hoser replied, then several flak bursts bracketed the F-4, then they took a hit to the nose, and there were a couple of near-misses. “Lead, Four. We're hit!”

“How bad, Hoser?' Guru called. He was orbiting over Lavon Lake, and as he maintained his turn, Kara joined up on him.

“Radar's out, controls are sluggish, and we're losing fuel,” Hoser replied. “Can make the fence.” That meant I-30 and friendly lines.

“Copy that, Hoser,” Guru replied. .

Dodge Two-three was orbiting with them, and soon, Dave Golen and Sandi Jenkins in Cobra Flight arrived as well. Hoser made it past the I-30, then he called, “Got a fire warning light, We're getting out. See you later, Boss.” Then both he and KT punched out, and there were two good chutes.

“Good luck, Hoser,” said Guru. “Crystal Palace, Corvette One-one. One-four has ejected. Two good chutes, and request SAR.”

“Roger, Corvette One-one. Jolly Six-seven is en route. We have you orbiting the position.”

“Copy that, Crystal Palace. Can orbit for two-zero minutes.”


Jolly Six-six and Six-seven were two HH-3Es, from the 305th Rescue Squadron at Selfridge AFB in Michigan, but instead of going to the Northern Theater, the squadron, with HC-130s and HH-3Es, had gone south. This detachment from the 305th had been colocated with the Army, and the unit they were currently with was the 8-229 Attack Helicopter Battalion, the “Cobra Girls” or “Cobra Chicks.” The unit was famous for its combat debut at Wichita, and had built on that record during the drive south during PRAIRIE FIRE, but also had a well-deserved reputation for debauchery, hell-raising, and general rowdiness, much to the chagrin of the mostly AF Reserve crews. Though the AF people did attend the unit's parties, they were more.....restrained than their Army colleagues.

Now, they were back in their element, with Jolly Six-six having recovered an F-4 crew member from right between two Soviet motor-rifle regiments, and Six-seven having been in a holding area as backup. Now, with another F-4 down, though north of the front line, Jolly Six-seven was closest. In fact, the flight crew watched the F-4 crew eject, and they were already speeding to the area before the call came from the AWACS.

Six-seven's pilot was Capt. Beverly Lynne, who had been a cheerleader for the Philadelphia Eagles in her college days to help pay for school, and had joined the Air Force after graduation. Her original flying assignment had been flying UH-1Ns on missile site support for SAC at Whiteman, but with the war, and the end of the ban on women in combat, she had asked for Combat SAR. After a year with the 305th, she was one of the best pilots in the squadron, and was the deputy commander of the detachment. Now it was showtime. She brought the helo in next to a field where both F-4 crew members were coming down, and she saw several Army Hummers converging on the scene as well. Anxious to beat the Army and get the credit for the rescue, Lynne had her Pararescue men waiting to go as the first crew member landed in the field. She brought the helo in just as the second crew member landed, and all four PJ s jumped from the helo and ran for the survivors.

The Pararescue men got to the survivors just as the first Hummer entered the field, and when they asked the survivors if they were okay, both replied in the affirmative. The PJ s conducted the survivors to the waiting helo, and after everyone was aboard, Capt. Lynne gunned the big Sikorsky skyward, and after turning it over to her copilot, she asked the F-4 crew “Where are you guys from?”

“335th TFS” Hoser said, introducing himself and KT. “The Bastard Orphans of the Air Force.”

“Heard about you guys,” Lynne said. “Wait one Crystal Palace, Jolly Six-seven has two survivors. We are RTB at this time.”

“Roger, Jolly.” AWACS replied. “Will notify Corvette Lead.”

“Copy,” Lynne said. “Hey, you guys know Guru Wiser? He's an OTS classmate of mine.”

“Sure do,” KT said.

“He was the Ops Officer last I heard,” Lynne said.

“Not anymore. He's the CO now, and a Major,” Hoser said.

“Well, I'll be damned. If that other survivor we picked up is from your unit, I'll take you back myself. You guys need to get checked out, then we'll get you to your base later tonight.”

“Fair enough,” Hoser replied, and KT nodded.


“Corvette Lead, Crystal Palace. Jolly has the survivors. They are RTB at this time.”

“Roger that,” Guru replied with a big sigh of relief. “Flight, Lead. Jolly has Hoser and KT. Time to go home. Dodge Two-three, form up on us. Cobra Lead, you with us?”

“Right with you,” Dave Golen replied.

The impromptu flight then headed back to Sheppard, relived that two of their own had been rescued, but anxious to hear the fate of Dodge Two-four's crew. Who had made it, and who hadn't? Pilot or GIB?

The flight arrived in Sheppard's traffic pattern, and after waiting on a couple of outbound flights, was cleared in. First Dodge Two-three, then Corvette, then Cobra. At the 335th's Ops Building, several pilots and GIBs were watching, along with Kodak Griffith, Master Sergeant Ross and the news crew. As the aircraft taxied in, those watching made out the tail numbers. Then the group, led by the Exec, piled into a Crew-cab pickup and headed over to the squadron's dispersal area, and the revetment used by the CO's bird.

Guru taxied 512 into its revetment, and after popping his canopy and shutting down, took a deep breath. He knew that tonight, he'd be writing a letter to a family, and that, he knew, would not be pleasant. Colonel Rivers had told him that of all the jobs he had to do in the service, that was the lousiest, as he never really knew what to say. But somehow, he did, and Guru knew he'd have to as well. “Not a good one,” he said.

“How'd they get that lucky?” Goalie wanted to know.

“Some Kasha-eating Son of a Bitch got lucky. He just sprayed Hoser with 57 fire, and that was that.” Guru spat, standing up in the cockpit as the ground crew brought the crew ladder.

“Bad luck,” Goalie said as she stood up.

Guru nodded as he climbed down, then he turned to Sergeant Crowley. “Sergeant, 512's still truckin'. Get her turned around ASAP. We lost a couple of birds, but we still got a job to do.”

“Yes, sir,” the crew chief responded. “Sir, do we know who didn't....?”

“Not yet,” the CO said. “We need to hear from the RCC.” That meant the Rescue Coordination Center at McAlister Regional Airport in Oklahoma. “All we know is that someone got out of Two-four.”

“Yes, sir,” Crowley said. “Okay, people! You heard the Major. Let's get this bird ready to go!”

Guru and Goalie left the ground crew to their work, and headed to the entrance of the revetment, and found Kara, Brainiac, Sweaty, and Preacher gathering there. “Well, our bad luck today,” Guru said.

“WTF happened?” Kara asked. “All we got was light stuff-either machine guns or 23s!”

“ZSU-57, probably,” Preacher said. “We got some of it, and Hoser's bad luck he got the worst of it.”

“Preacher's right,” Sweaty added. “When are they coming back?”

“Need to hear from the RCC,” Guru said. “Sometime tonight, if they're not hurt.”

Then a Crew-Cab pickup arrived, and several pilots and GIBs jumped out, along with the Intel Officer. It was the Exec who got to the Major first. “Boss, what happened?”

“Not sure with Two-four,” Guru said. He motioned to 1st Lt. Brian Woods and 1st Lt. Paul Landon. “Brian, what happened from your viewpoint?”

“Not sure, Major,” Woods said. “All I know is that Razor called in hot, then said they were taking fire. Next thing I hear is the beeper.”

The Intel Officer, Capt. Darren Licon, pulled out a map of the area. “Could you show me where, please?”

Woods nodded, then indicated on the map where they had been sent to hit armor.

“We were south of that,” Major Wiser said.

“Okay, sir. Can you show me where you all went?” Licon asked.

Nodding, Woods, then Guru's flight, then Dave Golen's, indicated where they had gone and what they had hit. And where Hoser and KT had been hit and then had gone down. In friendly territory, but the crash site had to be marked.

“Thanks, everyone. I'll get this off to Tenth Air Force,” Licon said, with a touch of concern in his voice. He knew that he had briefed everyone about the threat, and was wondering if he'd missed something.

“Not your fault, Darren,” the CO said, knowing what Licon was feeling. “You just pass on what they send you.”

“Yes, sir,” the Intel said.

Then another pickup arrived, and Kodak Griffith, Sergeant Ross, and the news crew piled out. Ms. Wendt came over to the CO, and she knew right away something was wrong. Two faces she'd gotten familiar over the past two days were missing. “Major, what happened?”

“Not a good day,” Major Wiser said. “Two birds down, and someone didn't get out of the first one.”

“And the second?” Then she realized who....”Hoser and KT?”

“”They made it out, and got picked up,” said the CO. “Still waiting on who the other survivor is.” Major Wiser then turned to Kara. “Got a job for you.”

“Name it, Boss,” Kara replied.

“Have Sergeant Ross take you back to Ops. Call the RCC and find out who the other survivor is, and when we're getting Hoser, KT, and the third one back. Get our Frag Order while you're at it.”

Kara nodded, “I'm gone,” and climbed into Ross' pickup, and the Master Sergeant drove her back to Ops. While she was gone, people made small talk, or otherwise killed time, but it was only a few minutes until Ross brought her back. She jumped out of the truck and came over to the CO. “Got some news, Major. Frag order first.”

“More CAS.” The CO said. And the way he said it, it wasn't a question.

“You got it. Same AO,” Kara nodded. “And the lost sheep?”

“Who's coming back?” Major Wiser asked.

“Hoser and KT, you know,” Kara said. “The other one?”

“Yeah?” several people said at once.

“Revlon,” Kara said. 1st Lt. Julie “Revlon” Cole was backseat in Dodge Two-four. That meant that Capt. Paul “Razor” Gillette wasn't coming back.

“Damn it,” Mark Ellis said.

“Not your fault, Mark,” Major Wiser said, putting a hand on the Exec's shoulder.

“I know,” the Exec nodded. “Still....”

“It sucks, no doubt about it,” the CO said. “Three out of four coming back, but that doesn't make the letter-writing any easier.”


“Nope,” Ellis agreed. “This time, I have to write one. Razor was in my flight.”

“Part of the job,” Major Wiser nodded sympathetically. “One not covered in the recruiting brochure.”

“Or taught at the Academy, ROTC, or OTS,” Kara added.

“No,” the CO said. “Okay, Mark, when are you going out again?”

“Fifteen minutes,” said the Exec. “My element's being armed and fueled right now.”

Major Wiser looked at his Exec. “Mind going out as a two-ship?”

“Planning to,” Ellis said. “You want to borrow Brian?”

“Yeah,” Guru nodded. “Sweaty needs a wingman for the rest of today and tomorrow.”

“You got him,” Ellis said. “Just do me a favor: bring him, his GIB, and his plane back the way you found it.”

Major Wiser nodded. “Will do, Mark. Have a good one, and good luck.” Then CO and XO shook hands.

“Thanks,”

Then the CO addressed the pilots and GIBs gathered there. “Okay, people! Get back in the groove. There's two hours of daylight left. We've got missions to fly and bad guys to burn, bleed, and blow up.”

Kara looked at the Exec, who nodded. Then she clapped her hand once. “You heard the Major, Let's get with it.”

As the crowd broke up, the CO turned to Kara. “Get back to Ops. Find out when Van Loan's due back, and when our lost sheep are as well.”

“Will do.”

“Okay, then. Go.”

Kara nodded, then jumped into Ross' pickup, and the Master Sergeant drove her back to Ops.

“Sweaty?” Major Wiser turned to his number three. “You and Brian talk things over. He's your wingman for the rest of today and tomorrow.”

“Gotcha, Major,” Sweaty nodded, and so did Preacher.

Then the CO told his flight. “Get something to eat, something to drink, because we're out again in twenty minutes or so. Get back into game mode.”

While people were getting a snack or a bottle of water, Kara came back. “Major, got some news.”

“What is it?”

“Van Loan's on his way. Four out and four on the way back. The chopper with our friends should be here around 1830,” Kara reported.

Heads nodded at that, while Sweaty said, “Something to celebrate.”

“Yeah,” Goalie muttered.

“And we're on AFN tonight. CBS Evening News is at 1730,” Kara reminded everyone.

Then Sergeant Crowley came over. “Major? Your flight's ready to go. Lieutenant Wood's bird is all set, and so is Major Golen's element.”

Major Wiser took a look at 512 and found Rockeyes loaded. “All of us have Rockeyes?”

Crowley nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Thanks, Sergeant,” the CO said. “Gather round, people. Birds are up and ready.”

The flight gathered around the CO, as he gave his final instructions. “Antiarmor, I see,” noted Sweaty.

“You got it,” the Major said. “Okay, Dave? You guys stick close. If the MiGs show up, it'll be interesting.”

“That it will, Guru,” Golen replied.

“All right, just put what happened an hour ago out of mind, and get on with the job,” Major Wiser told his flight. “Okay, Scorpion?' He nodded at Brian Woods. “Got things set with Sweaty?”

Woods nodded. “All set, Boss.”

“How'd he get that call sign?” Dave Golen asked Goalie.

“He made a flight at the RTU with a scorpion in his flight suit,” Goalie replied “He never knew about it until after he landed. Didn't get stung, either.”

“Judge?” the CO asked Paul Landon, Scorpion's GIB. “Clear with Preacher?”

Both GIBs nodded.

“And how'd he get that one?” Golen whispered to Goalie.

“His BA degree's Pre-law.” Goalie replied.

“Okay,” the CO went on. “We've got this one, and maybe time for one more. Do NOT get complacent, people! We've had two birds go down, and I don't want any more today. Got it?”

“Loud and clear, Major,” Kara said.

“Scorpion? Mission code to AWACS and other interested parties. Call signs between us.”

“XO does it the same way, Major,” Scorpion replied.

“Good. MiG threat, tanker tracks, divert fields, and bailout areas are the same as before,” said the CO. “Anything else?”

“Maybe the Army put the hurt on the chumps who were throwing up the flak,” Sweaty said.

The CO nodded. “To be wished for. That it?” Heads nodded in the affirmative. “Okay,” Guru clapped his hand. “Let's get it done. Mount up and time to hit it.”

As the flight crews headed to their aircraft, Guru and Goalie went to 512 and did a quick walk-around. Then they got into the cockpit and got strapped in. As they did another rushed preflight, Goalie said, “Want to bet the instructors at Kingsley would be docking us for the rush?”

“The ones I had at Homestead prewar sure would,” Guru said.

“Okay, checklist complete and ready for engine start.”

Sergeant Crowley gave the “Start Engines” signal, and Guru started the two J-79 engines. After the run-up, he called the Tower. “Tower, Corvette Flight with four, ready for taxi and takeoff.”

“Corvette Lead, Tower. Clear to taxi to Runway Three-three Center. Hold prior to the runway.”

“Roger, Tower. Corvette Lead is rolling.”

Sergeant Crowley gave the taxi signals, then he snapped a salute, as usual, when 512 was clear of the revetment.

Guru and Goalie returned it, then Guru taxied 512 to the center runway. Holding prior, the armorers removed the weapon safeties, then Guru contacted the tower again. He was cleared to taxi onto the runway, and Kara followed him. After a final cockpit check, Guru called the Tower. “Tower, Corvette Lead requesting clearance for takeoff.”

A green light flashed from the Tower. Clear for takeoff.

Guru and Goalie pulled down and locked their canopies, and a quick glance saw Kara and Brainiac do the same. Then Guru applied full power, released the brakes, and 512 rolled down the runway and into the air, with Kara's 520 right behind him. Sweaty and Scorpion followed, and so did Dave Golen and Sandi Jenkins.