by Dale Brown
Air Refueling Group "Sun Devils" out of Phoenix, the same
unit-and, in fact, the same crew-that had refueled Cheetah just
in time after their flight through Mexico. They were now at
twenty thousand feet, still flying in tight formation with the
tanker, so close that on radar screens from Texas to Florida to
Cuba to the Cayman Islands to Jamaica they seemed like one
aircraft-which was what they wanted.
had the throttles at full power to keep up with the KC-
10, but after a few minutes the KC-10 pilot noticed the trouble.
the loaded F-15 fighter was having and backed off on its power.
There was plenty of reason for Cheetah's sluggish performance.
In addition to sixteen-hundred-gallon FASTPACK fuel tanks near
each wing root, Cheetah carried an AN/ALC-189E reconnais-
sance pod mounted on the centerline stores station. The two-ton
290 DALE BROWN
recon pod carried four high-speed video cameras that pointed
forward, aft and to each side, along with data transmission
equipment that allowed the digitized imagery from the cameras
to be broadcast via satellite directly back to Dreamland for anal-
ysis. On each wing Cheetah also carried a 600-gallon fuel tank,
which non-nally gave it a cruising range of nearly three thousand
miles.
That cruising range was considerably shorter with the recon
pod mounted; it was even shorter with Cheetah's other special
stores: two QF-98B Hummer electronic drone aircraft, small sin-
gle propfan-engined aircraft that carried several computer-
controlled radar jammers. The two Hummer drones, one mounted
on each wing, were preprogrammed to follow a specific flight
path after being released. They carried no weapons. Their flight
paths would take them close to known Nicaraguan and Soviet
early warning radar sites, where their jammers would disrupt the
radars long enough for Cheetah to make-its run toward Sebaco.
After flying close to the coastal radar sites, the drones would fly
northeast toward recovery ships near Jamaica-if they survived
the expected Nicaraguan air defenses.
"You boys sure go around looking for trouble," the pilot of
the Phoenix-based tanker said over the scrambled VHF radio.
"Twenty-four hours ago I thought we'd all be in the stockade.
You must lead charmed lives."
"We found a few regs we haven't violated yet," JC. said.
"You're coming up on your start-descent point," the nav on
the KC-10 said. "One minute."
"Time for one more fast sip before you leave?" the pilot
asked.
"I think we've had enough," said. "Thanks for the gas."
"Thank your boss for getting us out of trouble with the brass, "
the pilot said. "I saw what was left of my retirement flash before
my eyes. You boys take it easy down there. Sun Devil starting
a climbing left turn. Out." The KC-10 wagged its wings once,
then began a steep left turn and a sharp climb, heading toward
its destination in San Juan.
"Nav computer set on initial point," McLanahan reported.
On 's laser-projection heads-up display a tiny "NAV" indi-
cator flashed on the screen, indicating that the computer was
directing a turn. hit the voice-command switch on his con-
trol stick.
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 291
"Autopilot on, heading nav.-
"Autopilot on, " the computer-generated voice replied.
"Heading nav mode. Caution, select altitude function. " The
computer reminded that no autopilot function had been se-
lected for holding altitude. Cheetah started a right turn, heading
southwest.
In the aft cockpit McLanahan was completing his checklist
items for drone release. "Release circuits safety switch to con-
sent, " he told Powell. JC. flipped a switch far down on his left
instrument panel.
"Release switch to CONSENT."
"Checklist complete. Stand by for drone release."
"Ready up here."
"Clear for zero-alpha maneuver," McLanahan said.
pushed forward on the stick and throttles. As the speed
increased and pitch decreased, the angle of attack, the difference
between the wing chord and relative wind, moved to zero-this
was zero alpha; the wings were knifing through the air with
minimum disturbance or deflection, giving the cleanest airflow
for the two drones to separate from Cheetah and begin their
flight.
"Zero alpha . . . now.
At that moment McLanahan hit the release button. Remote-
controlled clips on the drone's carrying racks opened, and the
drones began flying in formation with Cheetah.
"Showing two good releases, clear to maneuver," Mc-
Lanahan announced.
"Here we go." Powell gently, carefully pulled back on his
control stick, and the drones dropped away from sight. did
not yank Cheetah away; the sudden turbulence could throw the
drones out of control. He eased back on the stick, allowing the
distance between mothership and drones to increase slowly.
"'Showing good autopilot program-startup on both drones,"
McLanahan reported. A few moments later they saw both drones
banking away to their right as they began their computer-
controlled flights.
"Drones are clear to the right."
"Got 'em." verified. He watched the drones for a mo-
ment to make sure they were far enough away, then said, "We're
goin' down." He hit the voice-command stud on his stick. "Au-
topilot attitude hold.
292 DALE BROWN
"Attitude hold mode on, " the computer acknowledged.
pressed the pitch-select switch on the control stick and
pushed. Cheetah started a twenty-degree descent. When he re-
leased the select switch, the autopilot held the pitch angle.
"Overspeed warning, " the computer announced. pulled
the throttles back to seventy percent to avoid overstressing the
recon pod and external fuel tanks as Cheetah approached the
speed of sound in the steep descent.
"Autopilot altitude select two hundred feet," corn-
manded.
"Autopilot altitude command two hundred feet.
"We should be entering early-warning radar coverage in a
few minutes. We need to be down below two thousand feet by
then. "
"No sweat," said. "We're descending fifteen thousand
feet per minute. This baby feels like a real jet with those two
loads gone."
Suddenly a tiny indicator blinked on a newly installed panel
in Cheetah's aft cockpit. "Radar-warning indicator from one of
the drones. Some radar's got them. He'll start jamming any min-
ute. "
"We've got five thousand feet to level-off at two hundred
feet," said. "We should be ready."
And Cheetah did level off as planned. By the time it reached
the San Andres y Providencia Atoll east of Nicaragua, they were
at two-hundred feet above the Caribbean, traveling five hundred
miles an hour. The Nicaraguan early-warning radar site at Islas
del Maiz, fifty miles off the coast of Nicaragua, never had a
chance to see the
sea-skimming aircraft. Cheetah's automatic
jammers activated once when the radar site was only a few miles
away, but the Russian-built radar did not lock on or reacquire
the aircraft. Fifteen minutes after passing the island radar site
Cheetah was over the marshy lowlands of the east coast of Nic-
aragua.
"Where's all this Russian hardware the Nicaraguans are sup-
posed to have?" JC. said.
"We haven't hit the worst part yet. " They were riding the
military crest-the point on a hill where observation was the
most difficult-of the lush, green Cordillera Chontalena moun-
tain range in southern Nicaragua, heading northwest at five hun-
dred fifty miles an hour. "We should be safe from Managp
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 293
SAM sites, but Sebaco is supposed to be loaded for bear-we
could be within range of their SA-10 missile sites in five min-
utes. Once we bust their radar cordon we'll be assholes and
elbows trying to get out of here-"
Just then, they saw two dark shapes streaking across the hills
in front of them. The shapes trailed long fingers of flame that
were visible even in daylight.
"Oh, God," broke out. "They look like MiG-29s, head-
ing north."
"Th drones are right on time, " Patrick said, realizing the
MiGs had gone for the diversionary drone targets. A few mo-
ments later two more jets screamed northward behind the first
two, now less than ten miles from where Cheetah was hugging
the green forested mountains. One of the MiGs appeare( to start
a right turn toward Cheetah, but he was really maneuvering away
from his leader as they raced away. They were close enough to
see the MiGs' external fuel tanks and feel their jet-wash as they
passed.
"If they flushed their whole alert force to chase down the
drones we just may be able to go in without visitors."
"When those guys find out they've been suckered by a couple
of drones they'll be back in a hot minute and after us, "
said.
"Ten miles from the first SAM ring," McLanahan said,
checking his chart and the GPS satellite navigation system.
"Punch off those external tanks any time."
hit his voice-command button. "Station select two and
seven. "
"Stations two and seven select, " the computer verified. The
right multi-function display showed a graphic depiction of Chee-
tah, with the icons of the two external fuel tanks highlighted.
aimed Cheetah for a deep, thicketed stream. There was little
danger of dropping the tanks on any villages or people below-
they had seen no signs of habitation since crossing the coastline.
The tanks might not be found for years-maybe never. They
hoped.
"Ready jettison command."
"Warning, jettison command issued, select 'cancel' to can-
cel, " the computer intoned. The highlighted icons on the right
MFD began to flash.
Powell hit the voice-command button. "Jettison . . . now.
294 DALE BROVIrN
"Jettison two and seven. " McLanahan watched as Cheetah's
two external fuel tanks disappeared from view. "Clean separa-
tion," he said.
"Safe all stations," JC. told the computer. The display screen
acknowledged the command, accomplishing a release-circuits
check and reporting a "normal" and "safe" indication. "All
fight," said. "Throttles coming up. Time to do some
flyin'," and he slowly began moving both throttles up until he
had full power.
"Point-nine-eight Mach," McLanahan said. "Speed limit for
the camera pod."
"I'll hold it here for now," said, nudging the throttles
back a bit, "but we're not going over a Soviet military base
below the Mach. I'm not getting our butts shot off just to protect
a lousy camera."
"Five minutes out. Camera's activated ... good data-transfer
signal from the satellite. We're on-line . And then the first
warble from the radar-waming receiver could be heard through
the interphone. "Search radar, twelve o'clock." McLanahan
punched buttons on his forward console. "All automatic Jam-
mers active. " He reached up and clicked in commands to the
radar altimeter, which measured distance from Cheetah's belly
to the ground. "Radar altimeter bug set to one hundred feet."
"Mine's set for ten," said.
"Ten feet? "
"If we're supposed to look inside buildings, a hundred's too
high. "
"Well . . . we don't have a terrain-following radar on this-"
He was interrupted by a high-pitched warble and a blinking " 10"
on his threat-receiver scope.
"Warning, radar search, " the computer repimed.
"SA-10 in search mode, twelve o'clock."
"Let's hope that pod can take a pounding," said, push-
ing the throttles to min afterburner. "Here we go."
"Warning, external store overspeed, " the computer intoned.
ignored it.
"Mach one," McLanahan said almost immediately. "Three
minutes to target."
"Warning, radar tracking, " the computer said.
"The SA-10's got us already," muttered.
"Impossible, unless-"
I FP_
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 295
"Warning, missile launch, missile launch.
"Signal moved to one o'clock," McLanahan called out.
"They moved the SAM site. He hit the chaff button on the
left-side ejector. "Jink right . . "
threw Cheetah into a hard right-tum. They saw the mis-
sile immediately, or rather they saw the smoke trail left by the
SA-10 as it streaked by, missing them by scarcely a few dozen
yards-one or two seconds slower reaction time and the missile
would not have missed. "Goddamn, they put an SA-10 on that
hilltop overlooking their base. That was too close .
Powell started a hard left-turn away from the site and let the
autopilot center back on the target. "Well, they took their best
shot and missed," he said. "If they want to shoot now they'll
be shooting toward their own base." Cheetah rolled out on the
autopilot's command. "I've got the target," Powell said. "I'll
find your precious damn jet for you, Patrick. Hang on .
Andrei Maraklov was watching Musi Zaykov get dressed when
the siren pierced the silence of her bungalow. By reaction learned
after four years in the Strategic Air Command, Maraklov got to
his feet and began pulling on his flight suit. "What's that?"
"Opasno pavarota, " Zaykov said, and hurriedly put on her
boots and buttoned her uniform blouse. "Bistra. " Maraklov
never had a chance to understand what she said, but the urgency
in her voice was clear. He ran out of the bungalow behind her.
Workers were running toward the flight line, some pointing
toward the sky to the south. Maraklov started toward the flight
line but Zaykov grabbed his arm. "No. If it is an attack you
should not go there." Maraklov shrugged out of her grasp and
headed for the flight line, crossed the access road and leaped
over the low gate-none of the security forces stationed around
; the flight line moved to stop him,'apparently confused by the
sirens. He ran into the clear, into an unused part of the aircraft
parking ramp and scanned the skies.
He did not see it until he was halfway down the runway-
apparently neither did the anti-aircraft battery located at the south
end of the runway. The aircraft slid silently down the west side
of the runway, straight and level-it was so low that it looked
as if it was going to try to land. Then Maraklov realized that he
didn't hear the aircraft coming-it had made no noise as it passed.
That meant . . . he instinctively cupped his hands over his ears
296 DALE BROWN
and opened his mouth so the overpressure wouldn't rupture his
eardrums ...
... Just in time. The sonic boom rolled across the parking
ramp, knocking unsuspecting workers and soldiers off their feet.
The shock wave felt like a wall of wind shoviAg him in the face,
squeezing his head and chest in an unseen grip. Men were yell-
ing all around him, as much from shock and surprise as pain.
When he opened his eyes he caught a glimpse of the aircraft as
it banked hard right and climbed a few meters. The sight turned
his blood cold.
Cheetah ...
"I saw it, I saw it," McLanahan sang out.
"Me too, third hangar from the right, open doors. Hot damn,
there it is, they couldn't have positioned it any better for us."
"You gotta get back over there before they close those hangar
doors. "
But was already pulling on the control stick. "Check,
boss. Hang on."
McLanahan caught his handlebars just as JC. yanked Cheetah
into a hard right turn. He twisted in his seat so he could search
in the direction of the turn for interceptors or obstructions. "Clear
right," he called out. "I can see a circular barricade at the south
end of the runway ... looks like it might be a triple-A gun
emplacement. "
"I saw it," said, "but we're a good two miles out of
range. I'm goin' for the hangar." completed his turn and
leveled off barely a dozen feet above the east side of the runway.
A Soviet helicopter and a small high-wing airplane blocked their