Dale Brown - Flight Of The Old Dog

by Flight Of The Old Dog [lit]

  "Amazing," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Absolutely fuckin' amazing."

  "Ten minutes from horizon crossing," Luger announced.

  McLanahan had just caught Luger's last announcement as he plugged into the defense instructor's interphone cord once again. He handed Wendy and Angelina two cans of water each and a green packet of freeze-dried food. "Leave one can out for now, and stick the rest in the pockets in the liner of your jackets. "He watched as both women unbuckled their parachute harnesses. They were now wearing life preservers, small green pouches on a harness on their waists, and had to unbuckle those to unzip their jackets and stuff the water and food into the jacket pockets.

  Angelina's water and food rations stuck out in bulky bulges from her denim jacket. With McLanahan's help she refastened her parachute harness and slipped on the silver firefighting gloves she was using as flight gloves. Wendy had already given Angelina her thermal underwear tops and was drinking hot soup made in the cup downstairs. Angelina, however, still shivered in the chill of the Old Dog's upper cabin "Comfy?"McLanahan said to Angelina. "I hope you ladies don't have to go potty now.

  Angelina turned on him. "Are we supposed to eat this stuff in a life raft bobbing in the North Pacific Ocean?What's the int?"

  McLanahan looked at Wendy-that scenario had never occurred to her.

  He cleared his throat and said quickly, "Nah. Down low level the aircraft shakes around a bit. Things tend to roll around. You don't want to have to unstrap to look for your water. "It was a lame excuse, but Angelina, noticing Wendy's thin-lipped expression, nodded and turned again to her equipment.

  Wendy was staring blankly at her threat receiver display. "I wonder if we're kidding ourselves about what we're doing "The thought has crossed my mind," McLanahan asked. "It's impossible to be certain about that.

  I think that... well.

  you have to listen to your gut I keep seeing Hal Briggs trying to open that fence for us back at Dreamland, I wonder it' he's okay General Elliott came over the interphone. "Patrick, get strapped in. Time, Dave?"

  "Two minutes to horizon passage," Luger reported.

  McLanahan gave Wendy what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze on the arm, then turned and climbed downstairs back to his seat.

  "Horizon passage," Luger announced, marking a fixpoint on the high-altitude airways chart he was using. "Two hundred J!and seventy miles to Kavaznya."

  "Scope's clear," Wendy reported quietly, still thinking about what McLanahan had said. Her voice recovered its strength, though, as she brought her attention back to business. "We're still at extreme detection range. With our fibersteel body and anti-radar enhancements they might not get a radar return from us until we're about one hundred miles out. If then."

  "Will you be able to tell if they can see us?"Elliott asked.

  "I'll be able to see their transmission signal when it comes up," she replied. "I've got an idea from Seattle Center's radar and from the Shemya tanker and the fighters Colonel Sands chased us with what signal strength it takes to get a solid skin on us, so I can tell you when we're getting close to that. I can also see if they search or try to lock onto us with any height-finding or missile-guidance radars.

  "And nothing so far?"

  "Nothing. Not even search radar. But being so close to the horizon does strange things to electronic transmissions. They could've spotted us even before we crossed the plane of their horizon without my knowing, or they might not see us until we're well above the horizon.

  It's hard to predict-radar bounces off the ionosphere in weird ways.

  Like I said, they may already have detected us.

  Elliott checked the I.F.F controls to make sure they were all off.

  "Crew, double-check around your stations to be sure you're not transmitting on anything. Radars, radios, jammers, anything. Switch your wafer switches to INTERPHONE to keep from accidentally talking over the radios."

  McLanahan double checked his interphone switches, also checked to make sure the circuit controlling the bomb bay walkway lights were off-if they had to open the bomb doors the walkway lights could easily give the bomber away at night.

  "Offensive checks," McLanahan reported.

  "How far are we from-" "Search radar at two o'clock," Wendy suddenly called out.

  The announcement shook up McLanahan and Luger in the lower offensive crew compartment.

  "Here we go," Luger said. He was bundled up with his jacket zipped up to his chin, collars pulled up. He had long ago cleared off his retractable work desk. Only the high-altitude chart remained.

  "It feels so weird," McLanahan asked. "They can see us now. It feels a lot different."

  "Yeah," Luger said, "Kind of a joy ride-until now."

  "Two o'clock?"Elliott asked. "What's at two o'clock?Korf Airfield?

  Anadyr?It can't be Ossora or Kavaznya-unless we're off course-they should be at twelve o'clock."

  Wendy studied her frequency video. "It's a different frequency than a ground-based radar, and it's stronger than the radar should be so far away."

  "Could it be the laser's tracking radar?"

  No, this one has a very low frequency-an old system. I think this is an airborne search radar."

  "Airborne?"Ormack said in surprise. "Maritime reconnaissance or some sort of patrol-" "Or a chance encounter," Elliott asked. "Let's wait to sec what-" He's got us," Wendy announced, studying the frequency shift and listening to the radar's real audio. "Change from a slow scan to lock-on. No height-finder or uplink-just a faster scan."

  "Like station-keeping?"McLanahan asked. "Like a mapping radar switched to narrow sector?"

  "That would explain it," Wendy asked. "He's transmitting on UHE "Can you get a frequency?"Elliott asked her.

  "Only a wide frequency range. High UHE I can't tell if he's getting a response."

  Let me try to get him on attack radar," McLanahan said.

  "At least confirm if he's airborne.""Go ahead," Elliott asked. "No more than a few seconds, though.

  McLanahan adjusted the antenna controls to point his large attack radar at two o'clock, set the range for a hundred miles, then greased the TRANSMIT button. After three full sweeps he turned the radar back to STANDBY "Looks like he's airborne, all right. Two o'clock, sixty miles. With my antenna tilt two degrees below level I'd estimate his altitude at thirty-three thousand feet-" And then came the challenge: "Unknown aircraft, two hundred and forty kilometers northeast of Ostrov Kornmandorskiye, respond. "Followed by another message, which sounded like the same request, this time in Russian.

  "That's us," Luger confirmed. "About a hundred and thirty miles northeast of Beringa."

  "Sounded like he was on GUARD channel," Ormack said.

  monitoring the emergency U.H.F channel. "Do we answer him?"

  "You're sure he's tracking us, Wendy?"Elliott asked.

  "He can see us, all right, but I don't think he's tracking us.

  Just following us with his radar. There's no guidance-type tracking signal."

  "How far are we from the Alaska-Japan airway?"Luger checked his chart against the computer's present-position readout. "Just a few minutes ahead-" "Unknown aircraft, please respond. Pazhaloosta."

  "Please?"General Elliott smiled. "Sounds like a kid. A polite kid."

  Orinack looked at his pilot with surprise. "I didn't know you understood Russian."

  "I learned just enough to get my head blown off," Elliott said. He thought for a moment. "If we tried to duck down to low-level now-" "He might lose us if we pushed it over hard enough," Orinack asked. "We might make it."

  "I don't think he could follow us with his radar," Wendy added. "It doesn't seem to be a sophisticated system, but he'd report losing us.

  He's also in contact with someone out there. It might be Ossora Or it might be a wingman," McLanahan put in. "Maybe am escort.

  "Can you jam his transmissions, Wendy?"Elliott asked.

  "Yes, but that would be a dead giveaway."

  "All right. Let's ge
t on the airway and see what this guy does. "He turned the wheel, and the bomber banked steeply to the left. "If he intercepts us, we'll have to-try to down him.

  No other choice. Copy, Angelina?"

  "I'm ready, General," she said, checking her weapon-status indications.

  "We'll be just outside radar range of Beringa on this heading," Luger reported as the Old Dog completed its steep turn.

  "Permission to use the tail radar to pick him up, General," Angelina called.

  "Not yet. "Elliott took a deep breath, pulled the microphone closer to his lips, then switched his radio switch to GUARD.

  "Calling unknown aircraft, this is Lantern four-five Fox on GUARD.Say your call sign. Over."

  "Lantern four-five Fox, this is Besarina two-two-one on GUARD.I read you loud and clear. "The Soviet pilot then said something in Russian.

  "Besarina two-two-one, I read you, but I don't understand Russian."

  Elliott paused, then said, "Ya in gavaryoo na vashim yizikye kharasho.

  Say again."

  "Prastiti. I am sorry, four-five Fox. You... you are United States aircraft?"

  "Da.""Amirikanskaya "the Soviet pilot said excitedly Then, more officially, reported, "Four-five Fox, you are at our twelve o'clock position, seven-six kilometers. "A slight pause.

  I never talk to United States before."

  Orinack let out a long breath of air. "Looks like you may have made a friend, General."

  "Two-two-one, you are Soviet military plane?"Elliott asked.

  "Yes!"came an enthusiastic reply. "Pay Vay Oh Strany. Far East Command. "Elliott translated to the crew, as he did all the Russian.

  "I"VO Strany," Elliott said over interphone. "Air Defense unit. Could be a Bear or Backfire recon plane."

  "Or a fighter," Angelina said.

  "Gyda vi zhivyoti-excuse, pazhaloosta. Where you from, four-five Fox?"

  the Soviet pilot asked. "New York?Los Angeles?I know San Francisco."

  "Butte, Montana," Elliott asked. Let him chew on that.

  "Mon-tanya?My English not very good. They teach English but we do not use much. Difficult."

  A pause, then: "Four-five Fox, contact Kommandorskiye Approach on two-six-five decimal five. Immediately. "The new voice was clipped, military, authoritative.

  "Da, tovarisch," Elliott replied.

  "I report... I report you on course okay, commander," the Russian pilot said in a low, almost secretive voice. "You correcting back.

  Not okay to come closer. Okay, commander?"

  "Balshoya spasiba, tovarisch," Elliott replied. "Thank you.

  "Pazhaloosta. Nice to talk English to you, Montanya."

  "Two-six-five decimal five, roger," Elliott repeated. Just before he changed channels he asked, "Atkooda vi?Where are you from, two-two-one?"

  "Yaiz-er, I from Kevitz," the Soviet pilot said with hometown pride.

  "Big fisherman. Nice to talk, Montanya.

  Dasfidamya, mnyabileochin priyatna!"

  Ormack shook his head as he changed the radio frequency.

  "Nice son of a bitch, wasn't he?"

  "Kevitz," Elliott asked. "That's what Kavaznya was known as before they built the laser there."

  "He gave us a break," Luger asked. "I'll bet he plotted our position.

  He must've noticed us because we were so far outside the airway "He's not scanning us on radar anymore," Wendy reported.

  Elliott reset the frequency on the number one radio.

  "You're not going to contact Kommandorskiye, are you General"" Ormack said.

  "We don't have any choice, John. If we don't contact them, our friendly Bolshevik back there comes back and blows Montanya and his friends away."

  Elliott keyed the microphone. "Kommandorskiye Approach, Lantern four-five Fox is with you at flight level fourfive-zero.

  "Lantern four-five Fox, roger, at flight level four-five-zero," the Russian air traffic controller replied in hesitant English.

  "Say your heading, please."

  "Sto shizfisyat. Heading is one-six-zero, Approach."

  "Roger, four-five Fox. Spasiba. "There was a slight pause, then: "I do not have a flight plan for you, Lantern four-five Fox.

  "No shit," Ormack said over interphone.

  "We are on a military flight plan from Alaska to Japan, Elliott said.

  "I show no flight plan," the controller repeated. "Please relay type of aircraft, departure base, destination base, time enroute, hours of fuel on board, and persons on board, please."

  "No way," Ormack said.

  "I haven't done an international flight plan in years, but at least I know it's never relayed to a Soviet controller.

  "Yes," Elliott said, "you're right. This guy's just fishing for information. "On the radio Elliott said, "Kommandorskiye, we will ask Kadena overwater flight following to relay our flight plan to you."

  "I will be happy to take the information, sir," the controller said "as a convenience."

  Nice try, Ivan, Elliott said to himself. Over the radio: "Thank you Kommandorskiye. We will notify Kadena. Stand by.

  "Very well," the controller replied coldly "Lantern fourfive Fox, squawk three-seven-seven-one and ident.

  "Shit," Ormack asked. "Now he wants us to get a squawk.

  "Looks like we're digging a hole for ourselves," Elliott said, reached down and set the four-digit I.F.F identification and tracking code, leaving the altitude encoding and modes one, two, and four switchs off.

  He then switched the I.F.F to ON and hit the IDENT button.

  "Four-five Fox squawking," Elliott said.

  "Radar identified, Lantern four-five Fox," the Soviet controller replied. "I am not reading your altitude. Please recycle mode C."

  "Recycling," Elliott said. He turned the mode C altitude encoder on.

  "I am reading your altitude-" Elliott switched him off.

  "I have lost your altitude again, four-five Fox. Recycle again, Please. "Elliott repeated his "failed" mode C routine.

  "Your mode C appears to be intermittent, four-five Fox," the controller at Beringa finally said.

  "Roger, we'll write it up, sir."

  "I cannot allow you to cross into Petropavlovsk airspace without a fully operable identification encoder, four-five Fox," the controller asked. "Please turn twenty degrees left, vectors clear of Soviet airspace. Maintain heading for one-five minutes, then resume own navigation. Ochin zhal. Sony."

  "How far does that put us off the airway?"Elliott asked Luger.

  We're almost on the airway now. We'd end up seventy, eighty miles west."

  Elliott turned the Old Dog to the new heading.

  "How long are we going to be in Beringa's radar coverage?"

  "We're only on the edge of it now," Luger said.

  "Their radar signal is very weak," Wendy asked. "No guarantee-but I don't think they've got a primary target on us.

  "Meaning Ormack began.

  "If we shut the I.F.F off, we disappear," Elliott asked. "Just like Seattle. Patrick, how far are we from your next planned turn-point inland?"

  "We'll never hit it on this heading."

  "Call it up," Elliott said, taking manual control of the Old The computer heading bug swung almost fifty degrees to right.

  minutes," Elliott estimated. "That puts us "About twenty between both Bcringa and Petropavlovsk radars."

  "And as close to the coast as we can get between the two radars," McLanahan added.

  "I don't think it'll take Beringa that long to discover we don't have a flight plan," Elliott asked. "Things are going to get hairy pretty soon. Wendy, you're sure he can't see us?"

  "As sure as I can be."

  "Can you jam their radar in case he spots us?"

  -Yes, I'm positive of that."

  Elliott adjusted his parachute harness. "This means we're close to the penetration descent, crew. Wendy, prepare to take the Center radar down. We'll be making a power-off descent in a few seconds. When everyone's ready to go, we'll start a gradual turn toward the gap
in the radar coverage. When Beringa notices us off-course we'll engage the terrainavoidance computers, make a rapid descent to five thousand feet and a quick turn toward the gap. Once we go coast-in we'll stay at five thousand unless the navigators tell us differently.