I fall behind a loosely spread group of B-52s.
All of a sudden a vibrant stream of tracers erupts from its tail, I'm stunned and yank hard to dodge, a few of the shots land on my wing. A second stream comes from a different bomber. I pull into a climb, get a little altitude and pitch back over to dive on them. I give the rightmost one a second's burst. The land on its right wing and ignite its fuel tanks. The plane banks left and begins to fall away as its crew ejects. I do the same for the next bomber, and dive on the flight lead. I fire the gun again, and the shots that land go from its waist to the mid section of the wing. It's engines trail smoke and the fuel tanks leak. The bomber lets its payload go, however, I notice, we are approaching the city.
The thought of the bombers landing in the populate areas of Etral scared me, as if hundreds weren't dying to the carpet bombing and subsequent invasion that had ensued, the last thing they'd need is a B-52 falling on them with a full load of bombs.
I prepared for my attack on the last bomber, another burst of tracers flew from its tale, as I nosed over and dove. As I was doing so, my radar went staticy and my HUD malfunctioned, and ceased to give me distances and closing speed. I was jamming the bomber's tail gun, but it had found a way to jam me. I lined up as best I could and fired, all misses. I let one more burst off, which cut across the waist of the plane, but it seemed unphased. I lined up for a second run, and let off a long burst of rounds, trying to aim at its wings. They impacted from the back of the base of the left wing to tr middle part of the right. Fuel trickled from its tanks.
The skyline of the city was close. I grew more worried, but an idea struck me, if
I kill the pilots, perhaps the aircraft would fly away and land somewhere uninhabited. Pulling hard, I lined up for one last shot. The last of my ammo impacted the roosterpit, ruining it, however, I noticed that my shots made a line from the roosterpit to the base of the right wing. The plane banked right, and two people ejected from the fuselage. The B-52 lost altitude, and I kept up with it. It dove for a suburban are of the city. The glittering fuel tanks lit, it's entire wing trailed a sheet of flame. I kept up with the plane as it fell, watching. I pulled away and saw it impact the residential area, it burned for a moment, then all of its bombs cooked off in a spectacular fireball. It's impact had destroyed a small block of houses.
Frustrated, I tore my oxygen mask off and kicked the pedal for the rudder, the plane shuddered a bit.
"Tempest to Blackwater, reporting Winchester."
There were a few moments of silence.
"Copy Tempest, RTB,"
The flight back to base was short and thoughtful.
I taxied to tha hanger and the little truck pushed my aircraft back in.
I climbed out of the Falcon, and the maintenance chief, "Pete" was waiting for me. I didn't want to talk to anybody, although Pete was easy to talk to.
"Anything wrong?" He asked, thankfully referring to the aircraft.
"The airbrake's hydraulics have failed," I replied.
I was about to exit the hanger when Pete called for me.
"Zee, look at this! Holy hell!"
I walked over. There was a huge crack in the airframe, about an inch long, along with the bullet holes from earlier.
"How'd this happen, and better yet, how'd it not kill you?"
"I don't have a clue. I meant to ask, how long is this all going to put me out?"
He told me this could take a few days to repair, and informed me that there was one last reserve F-16 ready. However, it was being armed for air and gound attack. I was about to say no, but changed my mind as I witnessed a familiar Mirage taxi by, realized that more people would perhaps die if I didn't go, and that a court marshal would be in order.
I told him I'd take it, and he directed me to its hanger. I found myself waiting in the seat of a familiar but unfamiliar plane, sitting silently with the canopy closed while the crew fueled and armed the aircraft, praying that the battle would end before I'd have to go up again.
