Air Battle Force by Dale Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

We’ll be okay. Head back toward it and at least give me a chance of nudging it back.”
    â€œNo way.”
    â€œThen descend,” Patrick said. “It’ll keep us clear of that SA-4. If we go below two thousand feet, it’ll lose us.”
    â€œTwo thousand feet! You expect me to descend below two thousand feet?”
    â€œIf we lose that StealthHawk, it’ll be the military and diplomatic embarrassment of the decade,” Patrick said. “A few more minutes, that’s all, Rebecca.”
    Furness looked at Patrick with an expression of fear and anger—but she made the turn and pushed on the control stick. “Damn it, General, this better work—and fast .”
    It did. As soon as they cruised back within the ten-mile arc of the StealthHawk, they were able to get it turned back toward them. They were fifteen miles inside the Turkmen border, but at least they were headed away from the long-range SA-4 missile site. The warning of the SA-4’s “Long Track” surveillance radar still blared in their ears—they were still being detected, possibly tracked. Patrick entered commands into the UCAV’s control computer, and the StealthHawk performed a rejoin on the EB-1C Vampire bomber.
    Suddenly they heard a fast, high-pitched deedledeedledeedle! warning, followed by a computerized female voice that calmly said, “Warning, SA-4 missile launch, four o’clock, twenty-eight miles. Time to impact, fifty seconds. . . . Warning, second SA-4 missile launch, four o’clock, twenty-eight miles, time to impact, fifty-eight seconds.” The voice was so calm and pleasant that one almost expected it to sign off with “Have a nice day.”
    â€œDamn you, General . . . !”
    â€œWe’ve got time,” Patrick said. “Once we get the StealthHawk turned around, we’ll be okay.”
    â€œPuppeteer, what is going on up there? ” David Luger radioed. “You just got fired on by an SA-4!”
    â€œThirty seconds and we’re out of here.”
    â€œYou don’t have thirty seconds!”
    â€œWe’ve got the ‘Hawk, Dave. Twenty-five seconds and we’ll be cleaned up.”
    â€œYou’re crazy, man,” Luger said seriously. “You won’t have enough time to accelerate out of there in time.”
    â€œCountermeasures ready . . . trackbreakers active . . . towed array deployed,” Patrick said.
    â€œForty seconds to impact.”
    â€œWe’re going to get nailed if we don’t get out of here, General!”
    â€œWe’ll make it. Fifteen seconds.”
    â€œThirty seconds to impact.”
    Suddenly Patrick said into the computer, “Let’s get out of here, Rebecca! I’m setting COLA. Go to zone five, now! ”
    â€œGeneral . . . ?”
    â€œThe SA-4s are speeding up—they’re diving on us,” Patrick said. “We ran out of time. Zone-five afterburners, now! Flight-control system to terrain-following, set clearance-plane COLA, ninety left!” Rebecca responded instantly—she shoved all the throttles forward to the stops as the EB-1C nosed over into a steep twenty-degree nose-low dive for the flat, moonlike desert floor below. Patrick’s order set their altitude for COLA—and with very little high terrain below them, they were heading to less than a wingspan’s distance above the earth. Patrick ordered the StealthHawk to activate all its radar sensors and open all its weapons bays—anything he could think of to increase the UCAV’s radar cross-section and make it look larger than the Vampire’s to the SA-4 missile-guidance radar tracking them. . . .
    Seconds later Patrick reported, “Lost contact with the StealthHawk! The SA-4 got it. Ninety left again, up and down jinks! Hurry! ” Rebecca hauled the bomber into a steep bank, turning the EB-1C so they were directly nose-on to the