by Dietmar Wehr
“Oh, God! Those missiles have to be fission warheads! We have to tell those squadrons to scatter before the missiles detonate!”
The General kept his gaze on the screen as he shouted. “GET ME A CHANNEL TO THE PDC! NOW!”
Strider’s fists were clenched as he waited to see if the General’s warning would get through in time. As the seconds ticked by, Strider saw two things happen simultaneously. A tiny green arrow emerged from one of the chevrons and headed for the incoming enemy missile. While that was happening, the chevrons grew wider and then broke up into multiple smaller chevrons representing groups of three aircraft each, versus the large group of eighteen that made up a squadron. They had clearly gotten the word to spread out into smaller tactical units, and one pilot, probably the squadron leader, had fired an air-to-air missile at the incoming missile, hoping to destroy it before it detonated.
The crew aboard the enemy ship must have figured that out too because their missile exploded with atomic fire before it could be intercepted. The screen flared as the orbiting satellite’s sensors were momentarily overloaded. Even as the computer-generated image began to reform, another message scrolled across the bottom.
TWO ATOMIC EXPLOSIONS HAVE BEEN DETECTED. BLAST YIELD ESTIMATED IN THE 40 TO 50 KILOTON RANGE. CONTACT LOST WITH ALL THREE SQUADRONS.
Strider feared that all three squadrons had been completely destroyed, but when the satellite’s sensors came back online, he saw that there were seven Raptor aircraft still flying, and one of them was about to get within missile range of the ship. Six green arrows emerged from the chevron and clawed their way to the ship. Strider was certain that the Star Wolf ship would try to intercept those incoming missiles, but it didn’t seem to be doing anything. The six green arrows merged with the red dot, which did not slow down or change course. The other five Raptors also fired their missiles, which appeared to hit the ship without affecting its performance.
Someone called the General’s name. There was a call from the Planetary Defense Center. Strider watched as the General took the call, listen for a few seconds, then hang up the phone.
As he came back to stand beside Strider, he said, “The PDC has long-range optics tracking the enemy ship. Our HE missiles caused no visible damage. The KE warheads literally bounced off that ship’s hull. Those warheads are designed to penetrate up to four inches of steel! How is it possible that they didn’t penetrate at all? What the hell is that ship made of?” he said as he turned to look back at the screen.
Strider touched his arm. He waited until the General turned to look at him. “The Mark 3. It’s our only hope now. The missile’s loaded. All it needs is the trigger mechanism. If we arm the Mark 3, I may be able to get close enough to fire on that thing. That ten kiloton warhead has to be powerful enough to have some affect!”
The General looked back at the screen. “That ship will get to the Capital before the X-12 can intercept it. You can’t fire the Mark 3 at them when they’re hovering over the city, Captain.”
“No, sir. But they have to leave some time, and when they’re far enough away, then I’ll fire at them. We may not be able to prevent them from raiding the Capital, but we might be able to stop them from ever doing it again.”
The General hesitated for only a couple of seconds. “Okay. Man your plane. I’ll order the trigger installed. Good luck, John.”
Strider ran back to the briefing room to get his helmet, then sprinted for the door. The hangar where the X-12 was located was about a hundred yards away. He decided he could run there faster than it would take for him to hunt for a vehicle to get him there. When he got to at the airplane, he saw one of the technical support personnel standing nearby, looking bewildered.
“GET THE POWER CART! I’M TAKING OFF!” yelled Strider.
The support tech ran to get the power cart. When hooked up to the X-12, it would provide the necessary power to start the engines, which could then power themselves from that point on. Strider climbed into the cockpit and began to strap himself in. Usually one of the support techs helped him with that, but there was only one of them in sight, and getting the power cart hooked up asap was more important. With the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Strider’s sense of time was becoming distorted. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. The support tech was bringing the cart as fast as he could, but Strider wanted to yell at him to move faster. He resisted the urge.
While the support tech proceeded to hook up the cart, Strider noticed another technician running to the airplane with something in his hand. When he saw that Strider was looking at him, he held the object up and pointed to it with his other hand, all the while still running. Strider thought he heard the man yell out ‘trigger’ but wasn’t certain. In any case, the man disappeared under the aircraft.
“Power cart’s hooked up!” yelled the first man.
“I’m starting the power-up cycle!” yelled Strider in a voice that was louder than he really wanted. The first engine finally started to turn with the high-pitched whine that jet engines produce, getting louder by the second. As soon as the engine’s turbine had reached the level of rpms that was self-sustaining, Strider gave the power cart tech the hand signal to unhook and clear the area.
By the time that three out of the four engines had started, the second man re-appeared from under the plane. He climbed up the gantry that was still positioned next to the cockpit and leaned in.
“The Mark 3 trigger is in! Don’t forget to arm the warhead before you fire it!” He then quickly checked Strider’s harness and gave him the thumbs up sign. Strider returned the gesture, and the technician climbed down and began pulling the gantry clear of the aircraft’s wings.
As the number four engine reached its idle speed, Strider realized that his radio was still off. He turned it on and made sure it was set to the Base’s flight control channel.
“—read me, X-12? Come in, X-12. Over.”
“I read you, Control. Engines are running. The warhead has the trigger. Am I cleared to take off? Over.”
“You’re cleared to take off. Use any runway you want, Captain. Good luck and good hunting. Over.”
“Roger that. Gunslinger is rolling!” Strider smiled as he used his Raptor squadron call sign. Under the circumstances, it seemed highly appropriate.
He carefully pushed the throttle controls forward and released the brakes. The aircraft started to move as he steered it to the nearest runway. When he was lined up with the runway, he made one more quick check of the instruments before pushing the throttles all the way to full power. The X-12 leaped forward, and within seconds it was airborne. The Capital was over a thousand miles away. Strider set the auto-pilot for the base course and altitude that would avoid any civilian air traffic and then did a quick calculation on how long his fuel would last. The X-12 didn’t have full tanks, because the test flight hadn’t required it. At the speed he’d soon be cruising at, he’d use up his fuel in 21 minutes and that was not nearly enough to get to the Capital. In his rush to take off, he hadn’t considered getting the X-12 topped off first. Returning to Base to refuel wasn’t the only option.
“I’m here, Gunslinger,” said the General as few seconds later.
“General, I’m going to need a lot more fuel in order to get to the Capital at all, let alone as fast as possible. Can you arrange for a refueling tanker rendezvous?”
“Already working on that in anticipation of your request. As soon as we have the details worked out, we’ll pass that on to you. Over.”
“That’s good to hear. I can maintain max speed for about twenty minutes with what I have now. Anything new with the attack? Over.”
“The surviving Raptors are returning to base to re-arm. Two more squadrons from further away have been scrambled. They’ll have barely enough fuel to get within firing range and may have to abandon their aircraft afterwards if they can’t make it to the nearest landing strip. Ground forces are being deployed at the Capital. All civilians have been ordered to get indoors and
in shelters if possible. At the speed the Star Wolf ship is traveling, it should arrive over the Capital in about ten minutes. That’s all we have right now. If the situation changes, I’ll let you know. Over.”
“Roger that. Thanks, General.” Strider felt the aircraft accelerate as it reached the pre-programmed altitude and levelled off. The Star Wolves would get a different reception when they landed their troops in the Capital this time. All the major government and commercial buildings would be ringed with large-caliber artillery guns mounted on tracked vehicles. If the large ship deployed smaller ships, as had happened last time, they would be hovering over the streets so that their troops could deploy in those air-vehicles that utilized some principle of flight their own scientists hadn’t rediscovered yet. The artillery would target those units before the troops could disembark. In addition to that, infantry would be deployed in fire teams armed with portable rocket launchers and rapid-fire assault rifles. No one really knew if that would be enough to penetrate the armor that Star Wolves had worn last time, but if the assault rifle fire couldn’t penetrate their armor, he was certain that high-explosive shells fired from the rocket launchers would be lethal, even from the shrapnel generated by a near miss. That the Star Wolves would succeed in taking what they wanted was not in question. The question was how costly could planetary defense forces make the price, and would it be high enough to discourage the raiders from coming back?
When his fuel was down to ten minutes worth, and he was beginning to get worried, the General called to inform him that a tanker rendezvous had been set up. He would have to throttle back to sub-sonic speed in order to make his remaining fuel last long enough to rendezvous with the tanker and then take on a full load. The General also had some news.
“That ship is over the Capital now, and they’re deploying their smaller troop ships. Preliminary reports on the effectiveness of our artillery fire, and I stress that this is very preliminary data, seems to indicate that the troop ships are able to shrug off direct hits from the artillery guns. They must be armored with the same protection as the main ship, goddammit. At least they won’t get our gold supply this time. I’ll keep you posted, Gunslinger. Out.”
Strider wanted to vent his frustration by hitting something but resisted the impulse. Every square inch of the cockpit had a switch, lever or indicator that would not respond well to a hit by his fist. He was glad that Maureen and Richard were nowhere near the Capital. At least he didn’t have to worry about them.
The General’s comment about the gold didn’t give Strider much comfort. It had taken the planet a long time to recover economically from the disappearance of the central bank’s gold reserves. To prevent the same thing from happening again, the new gold inventory was stored in a secret location that even Strider didn’t know the details of. The possibility that the Star Wolves might vent their frustration on the local populace was a fear that the government leaders had agonized a long time over before ordering the gold relocation. But stewing over the fighting had to cease while he adjusted his heading and speed to make the rendezvous.
The aerial refueling took longer than Strider had hoped for. By the time he disconnected the X-12 from the tanker’s refueling boom, a half hour had passed since learning of the rendezvous. The latest news was awful. The artillery wasn’t having any success at all, and most of it had been destroyed by cannon fire from the troop ships. The air-vehicles used by the Star Wolf ground troops were also armed with rapid-fire cannon, which had decimated the defending infantry. The raiders had quickly discovered that the central bank vaults were empty. They had then shifted their attention to the art museums and major jewelry exchanges. Even at his maximum speed, Strider was still almost two hours away. He was now concerned that the raiders would be finished the looting and be gone by the time he got there.
He and the General had agreed that Strider would not transmit unless absolutely necessary, just in case the raiders had the ability to track the sources of radio transmissions. The General would continue to update him under the theory that messages from a stationary location like the Base would not be considered important to the raiders. He got the news he’d been dreading when he was still almost 90 minutes from the Capital.
“They’re pulling out, Gunslinger,” said the General. “All their ground troops have been recalled. The main ship is slowly gaining altitude, but it hasn’t recovered the troop ships yet. PDC thinks they’re going to shift to another location on the planet. If they go after another city, the nearest one is Broadharbor. It’s being evacuated as a precaution. I know your wife and son live there. They might actually be safer if they stay put in the bunker. I doubt the raiders will bother checking residential houses, or if they do, they’ll concentrate on the wealthier neighborhoods. As soon as we get some idea of where they’re going, we’ll give you a course change. And yes, I’m already working on at least one more tanker rendezvous in case you’ll need it. Out.”
Strider wanted to scream his rage at not only being unable to strike back, also at the threat to his family. When the General called back with news of the apparent destination of the Star Wolf forces, Strider was so relieved that he momentarily felt light-headed. The large ship and the smaller troop ships were not heading for any city as far as PDC computers could determine. What they appeared to be doing was making a sub-orbital hop to the ice-covered continent at the south pole, and the only thing there that might attract their interest was the uranium mine and refinery, which was the largest source of radioactive elements discovered so far. The enriched uranium contained in the Mark 3 warhead he was carrying had come from there. It took Strider a few seconds to realize that if the Star Wolves were heading south, they’d be crossing his path, though not close enough for the missile to reach them. But what if he turned and headed south himself? He requested the course change, and when the General passed it on, he also remarked that the fuel situation was being reviewed and various refueling options were being analyzed. Strider immediately disengaged the auto-pilot and maneuvered the X-12 around to its new heading manually, just for something to do. He had a nagging suspicion that refueling options were going to be less than satisfactory.
Chapter Four
He was right. The General informed him of the bad news.
“Refueling is going to be problematic, Gunslinger. If you went sub-sonic right now, it would still take at least thirty-five minutes to rendezvous with the nearest tanker. And by the time you refueled and flew to the mine site, three hours and a bit would have passed. PDC is convinced the Star Wolves won’t stay there that long. If their intention is to steal our refined uranium, they’ll be able to accomplish that and leave in less than half that time. Continuing south at super-sonic speed will maybe get you there before they leave, but regardless of whether they’re still there or not, you’ll have to land at the mine site. You won’t have enough fuel to travel anywhere else, and if the Star Wolves are still there, you’ll be in danger of being killed or captured. I won’t risk that, John. You’ve got enough fuel left to make it to our southern Base. Abort now and head there. That’s an order, John. Over.”
This time Strider did scream his rage and frustration. He didn’t think his mic was on, but he didn’t care if the General could hear him. When he had calmed down enough, he activated the mic to speak. “So, we’re going to let them get away with it again?”
“No choice, Gunslinger. The fuel situation is what it is. I want to hear you acknowledge my abort order, Gunslinger. Over.”
Strider knew what he had to do. “Negative, General. We need to find out how effective the Mark 3 warhead is against their armor. Order the mine site personnel to evacuate and let them know I’m coming. I’m going to continue the mission, and I’ll be turning off my radio now. Out.” He turned off the radio before the General had a chance to say anything. Disobeying a direct order from a general was a court-martial offence, but that only mattered if he survived the mission. He re-engaged the auto-pilot and tried to relax.
When ther
e were approximately 21 minutes left to go before reaching the mine site, Strider was astonished to see the large ship partially obscured by the horizon. It looked very small, but the perfectly round shape couldn’t be anything else. As the minutes passed, the round shape got bigger. It seemed to rise up from the horizon as the curvature of the planet became less noticeable. For some reason that Strider wasn’t consciously aware of, he decided to bring the X-12 to its maximum altitude while he still had the fuel to do so. By the time the aircraft reached 80,000 feet, the Star Wolf ship had started moving higher, and Strider could now make out two smaller spherical ships, which had to be troop ships, also rising.
He quickly checked the distance to the mine site and compared that with the missile’s own effective range and the X-12’s speed. There was a slim chance of getting within firing range before the enemy ships got too high. The throttles were already pushed as far forward as they could go, but there was one more thing Strider could try in order to get more speed. He initiated the afterburners, which poured fuel directly into the hot engine exhaust, causing secondary combustion and additional thrust. The sudden surge in speed felt like someone had just kicked him in the back. The enemy ships were starting to gain altitude faster now. The distance between them and the X-12 was dropping faster too, but there was no way to know for sure if it was dropping fast enough.