with him for the rest of his life.
76
Chapter Eight
Hunter returned to the base, shut down the F-16 and ran to the base's recon photo analysis lab. The two technicians who had been laboring over his footage came out to meet him, both anxious and glowing with news.
But before they could say a word, Hunter spoke to them. "Jump jets?" he asked.
"Bingo, sir," the senior tech told him. "Yak-38's. We narrowed it down about two hours ago."
The Yak-38 was an airplane design the Soviets ripped off from the famous British Harrier. By using a multi-direction jet nozzle, the airplane could lift off vertically, then, with the push of a button, its thrust could be redirected backward and the jet could instantly fly like a normal fighter. The Harrier was an amazing airplane; the Yak-38 an effective, if bargain basement version of it.
Now all the pieces were fitting into place. The Russians hadn't really constructed an air base in the arctic valley —they had simply cleared a landing spot, for the jets could land vertically, too. The airplanes 77
had leapfrogged over from Siberia, probably rendezvousing with tanker planes or even preadapted ships at sea for refueling. After all, the Yak-38 was originally designed to operate off Soviet aircraft carriers. When Hunter happened to find their base, it only would take about an hour or so to get the 50 airplanes lifted off and moving.
But one mystery solved sometimes led to another: Now that he knew how the airplanes got there —and how they got out—he had to find out where they were going . . .
"Where the hell are they now?"
Seated around the table were the principal officers of PAAC-Oregon. One by one, Twomey, Ben Wa, the Cobras, the Ace Wrecking Company, an officer from the Crazy Eights, Major Frost, and Dozer looked at the still photographs gleaned from the infrared tape of the Yaks.
"This is not your typical Soviet stunt," Hunter was saying. "These guys were pros. It took a lot of planning and execution to jump fifty Goddamned jets across the arctic."
"And to do it in bad weather," Frost said. "And without a peep on the radio."
"Some kind of special unit," Dozer said. "Probably trained just for this mission."
"Damn!" Hunter said, pounding the table. "I would never have guessed the Russians had five of these Yaks left, never mind fifty!"
"We have to find them and take them out," Cap-78
tain Crunch of the Wreckers said. "Any ideas where they went, Major?"
Hunter was quiet for a moment. "I hate to even say this but . . ." he began slowly. "My guess is they jumped themselves right over into the Badlands."
"Christ!" Twomey blurted out, expressing the feeling of every officer there.
They were all unquestioningly brave men. But still not one of them wanted anything to do with the Badlands.
"Why do you figure the Badlands, Hawk?" Wa asked.
"Well, based on the maximum operating range of the Yak-38, if they flew light and conserved fuel, they could have made it in one extra jump," Hunter said, pulling out a notebook of calculations. "And these photos show they weren't carrying any ordnance under the wings. They were, however, carrying extra large wing tanks.
"This tells us something else. If they weren't carrying bombs, it could mean they were meeting up with someone who was."
"Goddamn," Dozer said. "Fifty Russian jump jets flying around the continent can cause a lot of misunderstandings to say the least."
"What are they here for, Major?" one of the Cobras asked. "Convoy raiding?"
"Well, it seems like a hell of a lot of trouble to go through just to shoot at airliners," Hunter said.
"Could be part of another disruption campaign," Dozer said. "They sent a bunch of jets over to The Family, too."
"That's true," Hunter said. "But we've got to figure 79
that they sent more jets than pilots that time. Pilots must be in very short supply over there, still. And so are top-shelf airplanes like these Yaks.
Top-shelf to the Russians, anyway."
"You think something bigger is
76
Chapter Eight
Hunter returned to the base, shut down the F-16 and ran to the base's recon photo analysis lab. The two technicians who had been laboring over his footage came out to meet him, both anxious and glowing with news.
But before they could say a word, Hunter spoke to them. "Jump jets?" he asked.
"Bingo, sir," the senior tech told him. "Yak-38's. We narrowed it down about two hours ago."
The Yak-38 was an airplane design the Soviets ripped off from the famous British Harrier. By using a multi-direction jet nozzle, the airplane could lift off vertically, then, with the push of a button, its thrust could be redirected backward and the jet could instantly fly like a normal fighter. The Harrier was an amazing airplane; the Yak-38 an effective, if bargain basement version of it.
Now all the pieces were fitting into place. The Russians hadn't really constructed an air base in the arctic valley —they had simply cleared a landing spot, for the jets could land vertically, too. The airplanes 77
had leapfrogged over from Siberia, probably rendezvousing with tanker planes or even preadapted ships at sea for refueling. After all, the Yak-38 was originally designed to operate off Soviet aircraft carriers. When Hunter happened to find their base, it only would take about an hour or so to get the 50 airplanes lifted off and moving.
But one mystery solved sometimes led to another: Now that he knew how the airplanes got there —and how they got out—he had to find out where they were going . . .
"Where the hell are they now?"
Seated around the table were the principal officers of PAAC-Oregon. One by one, Twomey, Ben Wa, the Cobras, the Ace Wrecking Company, an officer from the Crazy Eights, Major Frost, and Dozer looked at the still photographs gleaned from the infrared tape of the Yaks.
"This is not your typical Soviet stunt," Hunter was saying. "These guys were pros. It took a lot of planning and execution to jump fifty Goddamned jets across the arctic."
"And to do it in bad weather," Frost said. "And without a peep on the radio."
"Some kind of special unit," Dozer said. "Probably trained just for this mission."
"Damn!" Hunter said, pounding the table. "I would never have guessed the Russians had five of these Yaks left, never mind fifty!"
"We have to find them and take them out," Cap-78
tain Crunch of the Wreckers said. "Any ideas where they went, Major?"
Hunter was quiet for a moment. "I hate to even say this but . . ." he began slowly. "My guess is they jumped themselves right over into the Badlands."
"Christ!" Twomey blurted out, expressing the feeling of every officer there.
They were all unquestioningly brave men. But still not one of them wanted anything to do with the Badlands.
"Why do you figure the Badlands, Hawk?" Wa asked.
"Well, based on the maximum operating range of the Yak-38, if they flew light and conserved fuel, they could have made it in one extra jump," Hunter said, pulling out a notebook of calculations. "And these photos show they weren't carrying any ordnance under the wings. They were, however, carrying extra large wing tanks.
"This tells us something else. If they weren't carrying bombs, it could mean they were meeting up with someone who was."
"Goddamn," Dozer said. "Fifty Russian jump jets flying around the continent can cause a lot of misunderstandings to say the least."
"What are they here for, Major?" one of the Cobras asked. "Convoy raiding?"
"Well, it seems like a hell of a lot of trouble to go through just to shoot at airliners," Hunter said.
"Could be part of another disruption campaign," Dozer said. "They sent a bunch of jets over to The Family, too."
"That's true," Hunter said. "But we've got to figure 79
that they sent more jets than pilots that time. Pilots must be in very short supply over there, still. And so are top-shelf airplanes like these Yaks.
Top-shelf to the Russians, anyway."
"You think something bigger is
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