by Dale Brown
AALF was a small aircraft, much smaller than a MiG-27, but it had been built for speed and maneuverability, not stealth. It detected the MiG's radar-guided missile attacks, evaded the first salvo, and flew close enough to the pack to cause them to
break formation and scatter. But there were too many Russians versus one unarmed aircraft, and no matter how smart, fast, and maneuverable it was, it couldn't evade its attackers and protect the DC-10 at the same time. When it turned to pursue two MiGs that had pressed their attack westward toward the DC-10, two more MiGs managed to bracket it from behind and kill it with a heat-seeking-missile shot.
"Those MiGs got past AALF," the sensor operator said. "They're on our six, thirty-nine miles and closing fast."
The two MiG-27s in the lead had shot their two long-range radar-guided missiles at the drone already, so they had to continue to close in on the DC- 10 for a heat- seeking-missile shot. But they had orders to get a visual ID on the aircraft first, so they continued inside missile range. They closed the distance quickly-their quarry was obviously very large and not very maneuverable, with three big engines glowing bright enough to be seen ten kilometers away on the IRSTS infrared sensor. The pilot of the lead MiG could feel buffeting and hear the engine roar from five kilometers away. This aircraft had to be big to create turbulence like that! He flew a bit farther to one side, out of the turbulent air, and continued. Just a few more seconds and he'd-
Suddenly the Russian MiG pilot's threat warning indicators lit up like a holiday centerpiece. They were surrounded by fighters! Where did they come from? Who ... ?
"Attention, attention, unidentified MiG-27 aircraft at our twelve o'clock position," the MiG pilots heard in fluent Russian, "this is Eskadril Twenty-seven, Six-twenty-six Polk, Odessa, Viyskovo-Povitryani Syly, Air Force of Ukraine. You are in violation of Ukrainian airspace. You will turn right immediately to head south, decelerate, and lower your landing gear, or you will be attacked without further warning."
"Twenty-seventh Squadron, this is the Ninety-first Squadron, Novorossiysk, Air Force of the Russian Federation," the lead MiG-27 pilot replied. "We are in pursuit of unidentified hostile combat aircraft that attacked a Russian tanker and a Russian Federation Navy destroyer. The unidentified hostile is at our twelve o'clock position. We request your help to pursue and identify this hostile. Over."
In response, the MiG-27 on the leader's right wing exploded in a ball of fire.
The Russian pilot couldn't believe what he'd just seen. "You ... you shot down my wingman!" he cried on the radio. "You bastards! How could you do this? We are allies! We are neighbors!"
"Negative, Russian MiG, negative!" the Ukrainian pilot responded. "Turn starboard right now or you will be destroyed!" "You cannot do this! This is not permitted!"
"You will be fish food if you do not comply immediately!" the Ukrainian pilot responded. "Turn now!"
He had no other choice. The MiG-27 pilot pushed his control stick right and pulled his throttle back a few notches. The large unidentified aircraft quickly disappeared from his IRSTS sensor. He thought about turning and trying a missile snapshot at the aircraft-but at that exact moment, he saw a burst of cannon fire shoot from a fighter just a few meters off his left side. The damned Ukrainian fighter was right there! The threat warning receiver counted six more aircraft in the vicinity. "Flaps and gear, or you will be shot down!" the Ukrainian warned him. He had no choice but to comply. With his flaps and landing gear down, his fire control system automatically shut itself down.
"Bastards!" the Russian pilot shouted. "What do you think you're doing? We have permission to overfly Ukrainian airspace when necessary for defense purposes! Aren't you familiar with our memorandum of understanding? We are allies!"
"Not anymore, we're not," the Ukrainian responded. "The Russian Federation is no longer welcome over Ukrainian airspace.'9
"What in hell are you talking about? Russia has the right to fly over the Black Sea or anywhere else we choose."
"This airspace belongs to the Black Sea Alliance," the Ukrainian pilot said. "Russian warplanes are not welcome over Alliance airspace."
:'The what? What Black Sea Alliance?"
'This," came a different voice. The Russian pilot looked. The aircraft off his left wing turned its identification lights on ...
* * ,and revealed itself not as a Ukrainian fighter, but as a Turkish F-16 fighter! It still wore the star and crescent of Turkey, but it wore the blue and gold of the Republic of Ukraine on its tail as well!
"Left turn smartly heading one-eight-zero, then flank speed to intercept that tanker!" Captain Boriskov of the Russian navy destroyer Besstrashny ordered. "I want all the patrol and smaller combatants available to rendezvous with us as soon as possible. We need help to stop that tanker before it reaches Turkish territorial waters." .
"Our fighters report downing one unidentified aircraft," the tactical action officer reported. "But now our fighters are surrounded by Turkish and Ukrainian interceptors, and one of our fighters has been shot down. Our fighters are greatly outnumbered."
"Turkish interceptors?" the captain retorted. "What are Turkish interceptors doing flying over Ukraine?"
"They call themselves the Black Sea Alliance," the executive officer replied. "The aircraft are flying both flags. They prohibited Russian aircraft from entering their airspace, and they shot down one of our planes."
"My God, are they insane? What is this Black Sea Alliance? What in hell is going on here? How many fighters are up there?"
"There are at least six up there, outnumbering them two to one-MiG-29s and F-16s. They have forced our fighters to withdraw."
"Is Novorossiysk sending more fighters?" the captain asked.
"Negative," the TAO replied. "They were pursuing an unidentified aircraft when they entered Ukrainian airspace, but that aircraft has disappeared over Ukraine. There is no longer any justification for overflying Ukrainian airspace, so no more aircraft will be launched."
"What about helping us?" the captain shouted. "We need helicopter-capable warships out here to launch an assault on the terrorists holding that tanker."
"The frigate Ladny is two and a half hours out," the execu-
tive officer said. "They are switching their ASW helicopter with an armed attack helicopter to assist in an armed assault on the tanker. Three Border Patrol Type 206MP missile hydrofoil patrol boats are also en route, about seventy minutes out."
"Barely enough time," the captain muttered. "How long until the tanker crosses into Turkish waters?"
11 Should be within Turkish treaty waters in ten minutes on present course and speed."
The captain shrugged. "No matter. We won't let a little thing like lines on a map stop us. Notify me when the hydrofoils come into range and the Ka-27 is refueled, and we'll try another assault on the tanker. How long until we get back within gun range?"
"Fifteen minutes."
"We'll try a couple shots on the superstructure and perhaps convince them to give themselves up," the captain said. "Notify me when we get within extreme gun range."
It was the weirdest chase anyone had ever seen-two massive ships, separated by just a few miles, with one pursuing the other at barely the speed of a brisk bicycle ride. With aircraft, Captain Boriskov thought, everything happens so fast; with maritime warfare, everything happens so slow. But soon they were within maximum range of the forward AK- 130, and the big twin-barreled gun opened fire. Two 70-pound highexplosive shells impacted the superstructure just a few seconds apart, ripping huge holes in the living spaces. A second two-round volley hit the bridge itself. A small fire started in the living and engineering spaces from the first blast.
"This is the Ustinov," a voice came on the radio. "Congratulations on your shooting-you have managed to destroy the bridge. I don't think we can control the ship well enough from the auxiliary control station. But I wouldn't fire any more rounds at the superstructure. We have sent the Ustinov's crew into those spaces. Hit us again, and you'll be killing
your fellow Russians."
"Cease fire, cease fire," the captain said, looking on with his repeater of the telescopic low-light optronic gun sight. "This is Captain Boriskov of the Russian Federation Navy destroyer Besstrashny," the skipper responded on the radio in English.
"What kind of cowards put hostages in harm's way? You should release the crew into lifeboats. This is between you and me."
"I think we will leave the crew where they are for nowthey're safe as long as you stop firing into our superstructure." "Who are you? What do you want?"
"Never mind who I am," Patrick McLanahan responded. "We wish to send Comrade Pavel Kazakov a little message: if he flies his little stealth toy any more, he and all of his partners and business associates will suffer."
:'What stealth toy? What are you talking about?"
'Pavel Kazakov has been involved in a campaign of terror and mayhem throughout Europe," Patrick went on. "He has been responsible for creating enough fear and destruction within the Balkans that the international community was forced to respond by sending Russian peacekeepers into otherwise peaceful countries. But all this has been created specifically so the Russian army can protect Kazakov's new pipeline."
"You claim the Russian Army is in league with Pavel Kazakov? Ridiculous."
"President Sen'kov, Colonel-General Zhurbenko, and many others in the Russian military high command are on Kazakov's payroll," Patrick replied. "If they weren't enticed by Kazakov's money, Kazakov sent his Metyor-179 stealth fighterbomber in to attack. Kazakov has killed thousands in order to create enough fear to convince others to go along."
:'What proof do you have of all this?"
'We have sent a tape recording of conversations between Kazakov, Metyor Aerospace Director Fursenko, Chief of the General Staff Zhurbenko, and Russian National Security Advisor Yejsk, to the world's major media outlets, discussing this plan," Patrick said. "Zhurbenko and Yeisk agree to mobilize the Russian army in response to the terror created by Kazakov and his stealth warplane, specifically so Russian troops could occupy and control foreign territory that Kazakov needed to build his pipeline across the Balkans from the Black Sea to the Adriatic Sea. By tonight, the whole world will have heard this tape. 11
"How do we know this tape is authentic? How do we know any of this is real?"
"Because we have also- included a tape recording of President Sen'kov of Russia discussing the matter with President Thorn of the United States," Patrick radioed. "Sen'kov agreed to let two captured American pilots free in exchange for Thorn agreeing not to reveal the contents of the tape. The Russian government eventually leaked the information on the two captured
Americans and their aircraft shot down over Russia."
"So President Thomas Thorn was involved in this as well?" "President Thorn's goal was the release of his captured fliers," McLanahan replied. "Sen'kov's goal was not to have embarrassing intelligence information leak out on how he was going to go along with crime boss and drug dealer Kazakov in taking over the Balkans in order to share in the profits of a one-hundred-million-dollar-per-day oil venture. If Thorn is guilty of anything, it is of trusting Sen'kov. Sen'kov is guilty of collusion with Pavel Kazakov."
"Well, this is a very interesting fairy tale," Boriskov said. But he was worried. For the past several months, this is exactly what most of the Russian military forces had been doing: protecting Pavel Kazakov's business interests. He and many of his fellow officers had been wondering about the grand scheme, although it seemed to be a lucrative deal for everyone. Perhaps that was the reason: Sen'kov, Zhurbenko, and others in Moscow were getting kickbacks from Kazakov, in exchange for providing protection for his oil enterprise. Now the Russian Navy had become his unwitting bodyguards, too. "What do you intend to do with the tanker?"
"We intend this to be a down payment on the very large bill Kazakov owes to the people of the Balkans," Patrick replied, "especially the people of Kukes, Struga, Ohrid, Resen, and those who died in the NATO E-3 AWACS radar plane and the Turkish F-16 shot down over the Black Sea by his marauding stealth fighter. This tanker and its cargo represent a half-billion-dollar investment for Pavel Kazakov. We are going to send it to the bottom of the Black Sea."
"Shto?" Boriskov shouted. "You cannot do that! It would
be a monumental ecological disaster! That spill would pollute a large portion of the Black Sea for years!"
"Let it be on Pavel Kazakov's hands," Patrick said. "Maybe by sinking this ship, the world will soon learn everything about Kazakov and his bloody greed."
"What are we going to do, Captain?" the Besstrashny's executive officer asked. "We won't be able to reach it in time." "We are going to have to disable it," Boriskov said. "Com-
bat, this is the captain. Target the rudder and propulsion area of the stem on the tanker. I want it stopped dead in the water. Once we catch up to it, we'll board it and hold it until help comes from Russia."
"We are inside Turkish treaty waters, Captain," the navigator warned. "We are prohibited from discharging weapons." "This is an emergency situation," the captain said. "Combat, carry out my last-"
"Bridge, Combat, high-speed aircraft inbound, low altitude, bearing zero-two-zero, range eight-seven kilometers, speed ... speed thirteen hundred kilometers per hour!" the radar operators in the Combat Information Center called out. "Multiple contacts."
"Attention, attention, destroyer Besstrashny, this is the Black Sea Alliance bomber north of you," the bridge crew heard moments later. "You have entered Alliance treaty waters and are hereby ordered to reverse course immediately or you will be fired upon."
"There's that Alliance bullshit again," Boriskov exclaimed. "Number One, battle stations." The battle stations alarm rang once again. "Combat, release batteries on the forward 130 only and open fire. Disable the tanker before it gets too far into Turkish treaty waters." The AK- 130 cannon opened fire on the tanker, one two-round volley every four seconds. The stem of the tanker Ustinov exploded in a burst of flames.
11 Bridge, Combat, inbound antiship missiles, bearing zerotwo-zero, eighty kilometers and closing, speed nine hundred kilometers per hour and accelerating, sea-skimmer! Additional radar contact aircraft, bearing three-four-zero, multiple contacts, low altitude and high speed, possible antiship missile attack profile as well."
"Helm, hard to port heading zero-two-zero," Boriskov or-
dered. "Combat, Bridge, cease fire on the tanker. Stand by to defend against high-speed sea-skimmer. All defensive batteries released."
"Sir! Look! The tanker!" Boriskov turned and saw a massive ball and column of fire, like a small nuclear explosion, erupt on the forward portion of the tanker. The fire was so bright that it cast shadows on the deck of the Besstrashny over twenty kilometers away. Seconds later, the shock wave from the blast rolled over them, rattling windows and sending a vibration through the deck.
"The tanker is gone," Boriskov said. "It'll be on the bottom in minutes, and they'll be cleaning up that oil slick for the next ten years."
"Bridge, Combat, numerous small vessels approaching the tanker from the south," the radar operator reported. "Possibly Turkish naval patrol boats or fire boats."
"Never mind the damned tanker-it's gone," Boriskov shouted. "Time to impact on that sea-skimmer?" "Sea-skimmer passing twelve hundred kilometers per
hour," the radar operator reported. "Time to impact, three point four minutes."
"Count down every fifteen seconds."
"Destroyer Besstrashny, this is the Black Sea Alliance Air Command. You will reverse course immediately or we will continue our attack," the radio message said.
"How dare you attack a flagship of the Russian Federation Navy!" Boriskov retorted. "I warn you, abort this attack or consider it an act of war!"
"You have committed an act of war by opening fire in Turkish waters without authorization," the bomber crew responded. "We have begun the countdown on five more antiship missiles, Captain, and we will launch them if you do not cease fire and reverse course immedia
tely. It may be an act of war, but the Besstrashny will be the first casualty if you do not head out of Alliance waters immediately."
"Time to impact, three minutes."
The bridge crew looked over at their captain in horror. They were positioned correctly to .defend against the first missile, but
not against more fired from a different angle. If the other bombers launched, the Besstrashny's defenses could be quickly overwhelmed.
"Black Sea Alliance, or whoever you are," Boriskov radioed, "this is the Besstrashny. We will exit your waters without further incident. Abort your attack." Seconds later, they saw a flash of light in the sky, and the CIC reported they had lost contact with the first sea-skimmer.
" Mis ana v rot!" Boriskov swore loudly. "Comm, Bridge, notify Destroyer Group in Novorossiysk-tell them we came under attack by some group calling itself the Black Sea Alliance. Give position, include details of the weapon they fired at us, notify them that we are being directed on where to go from here under threat of massive aerial attack, and ask for instructions."
Rather than make it better, the oxygen just seemed to be making Stoica's headache worse. He tried to gulp down some water to keep his mouth and throat moistened, but his liver was sucking all the moisture out of his body to try to digest all that rotgut wine, and he was losing that battle.
Yegorov wasn't making it any better. He was continuing a steady stream of chatter on the intercom, repeating every message over and over. "Six bombers! Did you hear that? This Black Sea Alliance has surrounded the Besstrashny with six bombers! This Black Sea Alliance has got balls, I'll admit that."
"Can you please shut up and just find the one closest to the destroyer, Gennadi?" Stoica asked.