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Starship pushed the Flighthawk the other way, figuring that once the Mirage caught on, it would think it had an easy shot from behind. But that was his own sucker move—he slammed into a dive and then looped over, throwing the enemy plane in front of him as it started to pursue.
Sure enough, a thick delta wing materialized in front of him. Now the Mirage’s maneuvers cost it dearly—the hard turns had robbed it of flight energy, and even its powerful engine couldn’t get it out of the gun sight quickly enough.
Starship got a long burst in, more than five seconds, long enough to see the bullets tear a jagged line in the wing. As he broke off, the Indian pilot pulled the ejection handles and was shot skyward. His plane spun furiously, a dart aimed at the ground.
Hawk One, meanwhile, was pursuing the other Mirage as it climbed through 40,000 feet, twisting and turning as it went.
Starship took over from the computer, knowing that the Indian was close to his top altitude. The Indian rolled out and then managed to put his nose practically straight downward.
The maneuver was executed so quickly and perfectly that after a few seconds Starship realized he wouldn’t be able to keep up. Instead, he broke off, banking northward, trying to get his bearings.
And to check his fuel. He was at bingo; he had to go back to the Megafortress.
Until now the Indian had outflown both the computer and Starship; he should have called it a day. But instead he pushed his Mirage around and fired a pair of heat-seeking missiles at the Flighthawk.
As soon as he got the launch warning, Starship hit his flares and pulled hard on the stick to tuck away.
“Computer, return Hawk One for refuel,” he said, switching planes.
The Mirage continued to move in Hawk One’s direction, trying to close for another shot. Either his radar had completely lost Hawk Two in the scrum or the pilot just didn’t pay attention to his scope, because the Flighthawk was driving RETRIBUTION
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hard toward the Mirage’s tail. Within twenty seconds Starship had it lined up for a ca
The bullets tore a jagged line up the middle of the Mirage’s right wing. The canopy of the French-made jet burst upward, its pilot ejecting almost before Starship could let go of the trigger.
“Flighthawk leader to Be
“Looks like every SAM from here to the coast is going to take potshots at us,” said Englehardt. “We’re heading west and not stopping.”
“Roger that.”
Near the Chinese-Pakistani border
0025
“CLAIMS THEY DIDN’T GET ANYTHING, CAPTAIN. HE SAYS WE
got here just a few minutes after they did.”
Da
But bitter experience had proved that looks could be de-ceiving.
“You’re lying,” Da
The Marine translated the words into Arabic. The guerrilla got a pained look on his face. He shook his head violently, then began to speak.
“He comes from Egypt,” said the Marine. “He joined what he calls the Brotherhood. He was going to fight against the infidels in Kashmir. He says he’s not a terrorist. He only fights soldiers.”
“That’s nice,” said Da
* * *
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DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
JENNIFER PICKED UP THE LAST PIECE OF METAL AND HANDED
it to the Marine helping her.
“We’re good to go,” she told him, and started walking back toward the landing area. As she did, an AK-47 barked up on the ridge.
Je
Then, silence.
The Marine she’d been walking with rose slowly. Two other Marines trotted over, making sure she was all right.
“I’m OK, it’s OK,” she said, getting up. “Let’s go.”
She watched them for a few minutes, then began walking toward a small ravine at the side of the plain, pla
What hit me? she wondered, then blacked out.
THE OSPREY’S ROAR DROWNED OUT THE GUNFIRE. THE
sniper had taken at least two shots before Da
He threw himself to the ground and peppered the rocks with his assault rifle. Dust and dirt sprayed around him as the Osprey passed overhead. He pushed himself up and began ru
A gun barrel appeared between the rocks; Da
Crawling on his belly, the Whiplash captain managed to get behind a pair of boulders about knee high. He burned the rest of his magazine, then reloaded. Two Marines had started RETRIBUTION
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to fire at the sniper from the north, pi
Hunkering down beneath the stones, splinters and dirt flying around him, Da
“Grenade!” one of the Marines shouted over the din.
Da
Finally the gunfire stopped. Da
A slight figure lay hunched over in the bottom of the shallow depression, head and back drenched black with blood. An AK-47 and two magazine boxes lay nearby. The moon coaxed a gleam from the weapon’s polished wooden furniture.
“Make sure we don’t have any more of these bastards around,” Da
“Corpsman!” yelled a Marine back by the missile wreckage. “We need a corpsman!”
“Oh, Jesus,” muttered Da
Aboard Dreamland Be
over India
0028
THEY MANAGED TO DUCK TWO MORE SETS OF SAM MISsiles, then had an uneventful thirty minutes flying an almost straight line southwest. But as they passed south of 310
DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
Ahmadabad, Englehardt found himself targeted by a trio of SA-2 missile sites; he decided he had no choice but to take out their ground guidance units. No sooner had the three Anaconda missiles left the bomb bay than Rager reported a pair of Su-27s taking off from Jamnagar, to the northwest.
The Sukhois chased them for only ten minutes before giving up. By then Englehardt had altered his course to avoid yet another set of missile batteries.
They were almost to the coast when Rager sounded another warning—four Su-30s, advanced versions of the Su-27
and the most capable aircraft in the Indian air force, had just taken off from Daman.