I give a heavy sigh. "Alright then, I'll just go and find some wingmen and escorts to fly with me."
Fuel tanks installed and set. A-10, armed to the teeth. Engines spooled. Avionics fired up. Pre-flight checklist completed.
"Air traffic control, this is Uzi 1-1, requesting permission to taxi to runway 27"
"Uzi 1-1, you are cleared to taxi to runway 27, caution traffic on taxiway Bravo-1."
I navigate a long and boring taxiway pattern and do my best to avoid running into traffic. Finally I see the runway. No incoming traffic in sight, and the weather is good enough to see for miles.
"Uzi 1-1, requesting permission to take off on runway 27, departure heading 262."
"Uzi 1-1, cleared to depart on runway 27. Go and sink some battleships."
The green light is lit, and I'm sent on my way. My wingmen and escorts follow suit. Four A-10s, four F-15s. I focus on navigating through the waypoints. I try to relax for the long flight, but it's next to impossible. I'm anxious to get back into the fray.
A few hours in, I gaze at the sky. A wall of aleutian grey comes up to meet us. A thick cloud layer has come in about 60 miles inland. We're getting close, I thought to myself. The water reflected the low lying cumulus layer. I look over my shoulder and see that my wingmen and escorts are still behind me.
All of a sudden, I get two loud beeps from the Radar Warning Receiver. Inside the inner circle, two symbols with the number 25 inscribed in the middle appear. "Radar spike at 10 o'clock. The welcome party is here." I didn't think they'd bring loving foxbats to greet us. The beeps from the RWR stop, and the escort leader calls out to me.
"Foxbat radar spike at 11 o'clock high. Eagle 2-1 requesting permission to engage."
"Eagle 2-1, you are clear to engage bandits."
Two F-15s split off from the group and shoot off into the sky, disappearing into the cloud cover. Already, my protection against enemy fighters is split in half. That's not good.
Groups of ships come into view. The Invincible Fleet, as christened by the Erusian military, and soon to be bombed and rendered as the Not-So-Invincible Fleet, by us ... Well, as long as nobody gets mauled by incoming AA fire or blown to pieces by SAM launches or fighter jets. Unfortunately for us, they brought plenty to celebrate with.
Something tells me I should've brought more people with me. But then again, we're supposed to be some elite air force unit capable of decimating everything in plain sight with only a few aircraft. I really have to wonder if that's actually the case.
The ships were organized into four groups, and I designate each A-10 pilot their own group. Everyone is sent on their way.
The F-15s separate and enter dogfights with Su-27s launched from some of the carriers.
Upon entering the first dive, I'm immediately barraged with long streams of tracer rounds. Get down close, and ... Pickle. I regain altitude and look over my shoulder to see the first ship explode in a ball of fire. Just when I'm back up at around 5000 feet, my RWR goes off and indicates that dog-ear radars are in the area. Off to my starboard, I can just faintly make out a trail of smoke. My heart pumps faster as I make an evasive turn and dump chaff.
A chaotic array of lights sparkle across the small bay. The radio frequency is invaded with chatter as people yell out to each other and babble a nearly incomprehensible mass of brevity code phrases anyone has yet to register. Explosions everywhere go off. Black smoke rises to the sky, and the once pristine water is stained with the oil of bleeding ships. It's sight for sore eyes. I have to admit, it looked brilliant.
Right after I successfully dodged the first SAM, my RWR suddenly comes to life again and reports that a MiG-29 Fulcrum is on my tail. Another beep, this one at a different frequency from all the others I've been receiving.
"Fox two inbound!"
I wonder what's going on back at home plate.
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