by Allan Burd
“Don’t know. Hound to Major Gaines. Got a brief flash on my radar, but it’s gone now. No visual signs either—” Suddenly his radar beeped twice and continued pulsing as two small lights quickly traveled towards his position. “Holy shit!” He banked his jet left and climbed. The blips on his radar followed his maneuver and closed in quickly. “I got two on my tail. Can’t shake ‘em. Came outta—”
The explosion lit up the night sky. Major Gaines, Colonel Chase, and their pilots had to shield their eyes as the brightness of the blast shone through the chopper’s windows. Their helicopter jerked down as the pilot of one of the other carrier choppers momentarily lost control.
The ground transportation crew treated it as a wakeup call. Their hurried movements halted for a brief moment—then each and every crew member moved with a newfound sense of urgency. To Logan and Blaze, novices to such a horrendous yet spectacular display, it was as if their entire reality was suddenly altered. They were now in the middle of a war.
“HOUND!” Lynx yelled desperately, refusing to accept his friend’s death. He pulled back on the throttle hard, lifting his craft upward, and then turned west toward the direction of the blast. Moose executed a similar maneuver. Whoever did this would pay! Except their radar screens were blank and they couldn’t locate the assassin.
The confirmation Major Gaines was expecting came through on the radio. “Hound’s gone. No idea why or how, but we’re on it,” Moose reported angrily.
“Find out and take them down,” Gaines commanded loudly. He reached for his radio again. “Rebecca, get the hell out of here now.”
“But—,” protested Rebecca, not liking the idea of running from a fight.
“No buts. Do it!” David ordered.
“Sir?” the pilot asked looking for an order.
“Land. We’re sitting ducks up here.” Gaines turned to Colonel Chase. “Is it them?”
The skies brightened again before Colonel Chase could answer. This time the unfortunate victim was Grizzly. Upon hearing Hound’s last message, he engaged his night vision gear to assist in scanning the skies. When Hound’s plane exploded, the resulting brightness enhanced by the night vision goggles temporarily blinded him. Before he could recover his eyesight, a blip appeared on his radar and an AAM sped toward him. He never saw it coming.
The final portable items were loaded onto the truck and Rebecca had received her orders to go. Logan was standing next to her. She handed him a gun. “Get in the front seat, I’ll drive.” Logan did as she commanded. Then she ordered Carlson and Dupres to round up a company of Jeeps to act as a convoy. Shortly thereafter, she had five Jeeps escorting her; three armed with mounted machine guns, two with rocket launchers. By the time the spaceship, its carriers, and the Major and Colonel landed, they would be gone, leaving only Dr. Blaze and Lt. Carlson behind to meet them.
The pilot of the lead helicopter immediately ordered the others to land and they hastily began their descent.
“Ease up, Lieutenant. The spaceship must not be damaged,” Gaines shouted.
Chase answered. “It’s not them. Your fighters wouldn’t have had any warning at all. Someone else found us and I want to—”
Major Gaines grabbed him by the collar and pinned him against the wall. “The only ones who could have found us are you.”
Chase grabbed Gaines’ wrists, attempting to pull him off. “Now you’re being stupid and paranoid,” he said through gritted teeth.
Gaines knew he couldn’t hold him for long. Quickly turning sideways, he threw Chase into a seat and pulled out his gun to hold him at bay. “Cooper, radio Lynx. I want the enemy identified now.” The copilot did as he was told.
“You’re wasting time,” Chase said impatiently. “Why would we take what we already have?”
Lynx reported in over the comm. Bzzt “Major, I caught a glimpse in the flare. It looked like a Comanche, but it disappeared too quick to get a good look and nothing’s coming up on the scope. Can’t rely on the night wear either—it’s too risky.”
Major Gaines turned his attention back to Chase. The Comanche was the newest model of stealth helicopter being developed by the United States government. The MO fit. He had to be sure. “Comanches are yours.”
“And I’m telling you they’re not Comanches. They can’t be,” insisted Chase.
Gaines wasn’t sure what to believe. “Tell Lynx I want positive ID, now!” he ordered the copilot. The helicopter rocked slightly with the weight change as the spaceship touched down on the road first. A few seconds later all four helicopters carrying the spaceship touched down as well. Gaines waved his gun letting Colonel Chase know to stay put. “God help you if you’re lying”.
“Damn. How can I fight an enemy I can’t find,” Moose muttered to himself in frustration. He banked his jet hard to the left, then hard back to the right, racing through the skies like a silver rocket out of control. He had to make himself as hard a target to hit as possible. “Lynx, we’re going to have to take them down visibly. Forget the radar. Forget the night gear too. If they take down one of us, the blast might blind the other. Just keep your eyes to the sky and shoot at anything that looks like it’s moving.”
“I read you, Moose. Looks like we’re up against stealth craft. Keep moving. We don’t know how many of them there are.” Lynx pulled back on the throttle to gain altitude. It was time to scan the skies from above and see exactly what he was up against. It was a move the enemy anticipated he would make.
56
Kenuchio Satsui and Ishiguro Kanuto were enjoying themselves immensely. As the pilot and gunner of Shadow, the first Ninja prototype, they were the deadliest warriors in the sky.
Like their namesake, they could not be heard. The Ninja’s five blade rotor whispered only a “whir” rather than the “whop-whop-whop” of the standard four blade design. A special shroud encased the fantail, eliminating the noisy mixing of wakes from the tail and main rotors. At high speeds, their noise level blended in well with the background. At low speeds, they were completely silent.
They could not be seen. Shadow’s black color provided perfect camouflage with the night sky, making visual ID difficult. They were undetectable by radar. The Ninja’s shape was such that radio signals wouldn’t bounce cleanly off. The shrouds that covered the rotor blade roots were made with special radar absorbing material. The air-to-air missiles were carried inside on doors that swung up and out for firing and loading. The landing gear and six barrel 30 millimeter gun also retracted into the body. They were even invisible to infrared detection. Its engine, hidden by V-shaped inlets, and its complex exhaust system built into its tail boom, suppressed its position revealing heat.
They were smart and efficient. The virtual reality helmets they wore linked them almost telepathically to nose-mounted sensors. They were able to choose between a starlight view or an advanced infrared sensor that targeted even through smoke and haze. The onboard F-22 computers scanned the scene and helped them identify priority targets. Armed with a sophisticated autopilot, they were able to appear briefly from behind a mountain, survey the battlefield with one sweep of their sensor array, then return to cover while they planned an attack.
They were swift. The fly by wire controls helped them exploit the Ninja’s top speed of 300 miles per hour. Their agility was such, that while hovering they could rotate 180 degrees in three seconds.
And most fearsome of all, their strokes were deadly. Their first target fell easily. After Whisper took out one F-18 with two AAM’s, they followed up quickly striking down a second F-18 with automatic gunfire. Then they disappeared, awaiting the enemy’s next move. It was just as they anticipated. Kenuchio thought these westerners were as simple minded as they were predictable. He knew their invisibility would cause one to fly high for a visual survey. Riding high on his own self perceived superiority, he smiled as he moved in quietly for the kill. When he was within a mile, he ordered the shot. Ishiguro opened the swinging doors that carried the missiles, locked on, and fired. A mo
ment later the rocket was on its way.
57
The AAM appeared on Lynx’s radar as soon as it touched the air. It was less than a mile away and closing fast. “Got you,” Lynx whispered to himself. The enemy took his bait. It was a risky gamble, but he knew from Hound’s final words that the helicopters had to reveal themselves to launch a missile. So he flew high for a visual survey, intentionally putting himself in harm’s way, knowing the enemy would anticipate the move.
But it was going to be a lot closer than he had calculated.
He throttled the aircraft sharply right, arcing in a semi circle, hoping to dodge the weapon while simultaneously getting a fix on who fired it. Unfortunately, to do that meant having to avoid the rocket while heading towards it. He watched his radar as the AAM closed in. If he didn’t move now, he wouldn’t make it.
He sped up along the arc and dove. When the missile followed, he released chaffing to confuse its internal targeting sensors, then banked away and ascended. The missile went straight for the countermeasure, leaving him a clear path to his target. He scanned the open skies looking for the enemy and spotted him a hundred feet below and to his left. Their pilot was smart. His escape route placed him between Lynx and the spaceship. Lynx couldn’t fire back without the risk of endangering his own men. However, he did recognize his enemy before they disappeared in the distance.
“Major, this is Lynx. We’re up against Ninjas. I recognize ‘em from last month’s intel briefing. Looks like they’re everything they’re supposed to be.”
Gaines immediately recognized the name.
So did Chase. “I told you,” he said angrily.
“The Japanese. How the hell did they get wind of this?” Gaines muttered. He grabbed the pilot’s radio. “Lynx, are you positive?”
“Wouldn’t have said so if I wasn’t.”
“Moose, did you read that?” Gaines asked.
“Loud and clear. Soon as I spot one of those little bastards, I’m gonna blow ‘em out of the sky. Copy and out.”
“Rebecca, where are you?” Gaines asked hurriedly over his radio.
“Moving as fast as we can,” she reported back. She was driving the eighteen wheel truck over sixty mph on the highway, its headlights the only guide to the dark road. Despite its appearance, the truck might have looked inconspicuous if not for the fact it was surrounded by five jeeps loaded with military personnel. In truth, it wasn’t. The entire truck was built with special armor plating beneath its ordinary exterior. The engine was housed within solid steel casing to prevent external sabotage. The windshield and side glass windows were bulletproof. The tires were resistant to any puncture. Nothing short of a tank would be able to stop it.
“What do you know about the Japanese stealth helicopters called Ninja?” asked Gaines.
“Is that what’s up there?” she asked.
“The Japanese?” said Logan, completely out of place.
“Affirmative,” replied Gaines.
Rebecca was visibly angry. “One deadly beast, David. Designed and built for nighttime search and rescue in enemy territory. Silent, cool, quick, and lethal. By the time you spot them, you’re already dead. I know they had an exercise scheduled for their first two prototypes this week. Britton was supposed to be looking into them.”
“Looks like he wasn’t paying close enough attention. Seems they’ve brought them straight to the front lines. Keep an eye out. You may be next.”
“Major, there are only two of them in existence. That means they’re not able to steal the ship, which means they’re here to destroy it.”
“By the same reasoning, you should be careful. They can still take home what you’re carrying. Don’t let them get it no matter what. Destroy it yourself if you have to.”
“Understood.” Rebecca placed the hand-held radio on the seat.
Gaines kept his weapon out, even though he no longer pointed it at Colonel Chase. He walked over to Lt. Carlson and Dr. Jeff Blaze, with Chase at his side, and recounted to them the entire situation. “Any ideas?”
Chase responded with a scowl. “Yeah. One. You ready to trust me yet?”
“No,” Gaines answered.
Colonel Chase reflected on that for a moment. “Don’t matter. You think your pilots can keep them busy for ten minutes?”
“They can do it.” Gaines spoke with pride, although realistically he knew better. Half of the F-18 pilots had already been killed.
Lt. Carlson was not nearly as optimistic. “They have to. Rebecca took everything we had. If the Japanese come for us, the spaceship’s as good as gone. We don’t have any means to defend it.”
Dr. Blaze, after receiving an approving nod from Chase, responded. “No, we have one.” Then he told them half of what he had in mind. Gaines relayed the plan to the fighter pilots.
“Ten minutes. Did you catch that, Moose? The major wants us to keep them busy for ten minutes.”
“Lynx, in ten minutes this fight will be all over,” he griped. “One way or the other,” he added quietly.
“I prefer our way, Moose. Use maneuver eighteen.”
Suddenly a blip appeared on Moose’s radar screen. Behind him. He quickly banked left avoiding an array of gunfire. The blip stayed on the screen. That was good, he thought. At least I can see him. He dove down, then up, then swerved right and left. He had to keep moving or he’d be toast. If he could just circle around and get behind him.
The chance never came. An instant later a second moving blip appeared replacing the first one, indicating the Ninja had launched a missile and returned to stealth mode.
“Shit,” Moose muttered under his breath.
“MOOSE!” Lynx called through the radio.
“I’m still here, though maybe not for much longer. I got one coming in fast. Gonna see if I can lose it.” He pushed the throttle forward and dove down at a forty-five degree angle. The light on his radar told him the missile was following without skipping a beat. He swerved again. The light still followed him. It was going to be close. He pulled back on the throttle and arched up swiftly, like a horse stretching his neck to the sky.
The missile shot past him just underneath his tail fin. He righted himself quickly and turned the other way, causing the missile to lose lock. Five seconds later, he noticed the blip disappear as the missile impacted with the ground harmlessly. Since the missile didn’t connect with its intended target, its safety systems functioned properly and the warhead didn’t explode upon impact with the ground.
“Whahooooo.” Moose was sweating now. He had cheated death by the narrowest of margins and was running on sheer adrenaline. “You’re dead, baby. You guys are fucking dead.” He looked at his radar scope and spotted Lynx’s transponder signal. He couldn’t believe it. Lynx bet on his survival and had already initiated maneuver eighteen. That crazy, wonderful son of a bitch, he thought to himself. I won’t let you down.
The maneuver was simple and dangerous. When faced with an undetectable opponent, one pilot acted as bait, luring the enemy out, while the second pilot swooped in and took him out. However, the plan had one flaw. They were up against multiple targets and only one, if any, would be fooled. The other target was free to operate in any way possible. It was a risk they had to take. Moose maneuvered in underneath Lynx in an effort to evade the Ninja’s radar and trick them into thinking he was killed. They would need every possible advantage to get lucky.
Staying in their predetermined flight patterns, they waited patiently for the enemy to bite.
It didn’t take long.
A flash appeared on the scope above and behind Lynx. From below, Moose spotted the Ninja, its side doors opening, a missile attached to a flap extending out. Moose climbed up to attack. He acquired his target quickly and immediately locked on to it before it fired a single missile.
That’s when Lynx realized something was wrong. “Moose, abort. Get the hell out of there!”
His warning came too late. The Japanese read the trap and reversed it. The second stealth
helicopter was waiting for Moose and fired a barrage of machine gun fire through the side of his cockpit. Moose was hit so many times his body spasmed forcing his hands to release the controls. Then his bullet-riddled body slumped forward onto the stick. The plane nose-dived to the ground, crashing ferociously into a mountain ridge like a bug splatting a windshield.
Lynx lost three friends in as many minutes. He looked at his radar scope bent on revenge, but both Ninjas were gone. He was alone and his enemies were invisible and still out there. He didn’t dare panic. He didn’t have the time. He needed to hold them off for seven more minutes. He didn’t think he’d last even one.
58
Dr. Blaze was in control, and despite the desperate situation, he was enjoying himself. He ordered the pilots of the four helicopters to disconnect the steel cables and the clamps. Major Gaines agreed, thinking if Blaze’s plan failed and the spaceship was still connected to the helicopters when it was destroyed, they would lose more equipment than necessary. This way the helicopters would be safe, and it was a simple matter to reattach them afterwards if his plan had succeeded. Blaze had another, as yet unrevealed, reason in mind.
They had cut the ropes securing the tarp, uncovered the ship, and went inside. Soon they were back in the engine room, the heart of the spaceship as Jeff thought of it, working to fix the damage.
“This is crazy,” said Lt. Carlson.
“Keep working,” Blaze ordered. For five hours this afternoon he studied every inch of the ship, painstakingly tracing every crystal strand he was able to. The technology, though incredibly complex and beyond Blaze’s immediate comprehension, was designed for simplicity. What he learned was remarkable. The crystal strands were grouped together in sets. Each set formed a circuit between a function and the ships’ power source—which Jeff believed was a compact nuclear fission reactor. Each circuit was also duplicated using alternative routing for backup. Except for three. The two sets that were disrupted by the damaged panel and a set behind a wall on the upper level—the bridge, as Jeff referred to it—that was intentionally cut.