Sky Masters полностью

Now there were three radar targets out there, the Chinese JS-7 pilot cursed. The first was obviously a chaff cloud — it had begun to dissipate very quickly, and his PL-7 missiles weren’t fooled. His radar seemed to get a firm lock-on just then on the real target, but it turned out it was a firm lock on another chaff cloud. The target was scooting right at nearly a thousand kilometers an hour, while the big, bright, original target was dead ahead — at zero kilometers per hour. Obviously a chaff cloud — and his missiles were both going for it. A clean miss.

“Fayling, Liang, where is Sichuan-Ten flight? I have no radar missiles left.”

“Liang, Sichuan-Ten flight has been separated into two flights of two, high patrol diverting north to intercept air targets under control by destroyer Zunyi. Your helpers will be designated Sichuan-31 flight of two, now at ten thousand meters, range two-one-five bullseye.”

“What about the rest of my Liang-Two flight?”

“Liang-Two homebound are still at twelve thousand meters, northwest-bound.”

“Are you crazy?” the JS-7 pilot shouted. “Turn those bastards around! Liang-Two flight of six, reverse course, descend to three thousand meters, prepare to engage!”

There was a scratchy reply on the radio — they heard him, although they probably wished they did not. If they turned around, there was no chance they’d land back at Zamboanga — but ditching in the Celebes Sea or landing at Cotabato was better than allowing this B-52 or whatever it was to head in toward the fleet unopposed.

He had one more chance before he had to return to base — throttles to max afterburner, close in fast, two PL-2 heatseeking missile shots, a gun pass with his 23-millimeter cannon, then abort. The JS-7 pilot pushed his throttle to max afterburner, watched the range quickly decrease to less than fifteen kilometers, got a seeker lock-on from his two remaining PL-2 missiles, then launched them both at once…

“Bandit at six o’clock, crew, descending behind us,” Karbayjal called out, carefully watching the Chinese fighter on his tail radar. The Chinese fighter was sending out jamming signals, but at this range even the Megafortress’s smaller tail radar burned through it easily. “Bandit’s accelerating… Jesus, stand by for missile attack… E-dub, stand by for flares on the right…”

The infrared tail warning receiver’s “Missile Warning” light in all crew stations, which detected the heat of a fighter in the rear quadrant and locked onto it, was immediately replaced by a high-pitched tone in everyone’s headset and a “Missile Launch” warning light. “IR missile attack!” Atkins shouted. “Break left!” Atkins immediately released four bundles of flares simultaneously from the right ejector.

But Karbayjal had seen the missile launch and was ready. Careful not to aim the Stinger airmine rockets at the flares, he waited until the missiles tracked, then ejected the flares and re-acquired the Megafortress’s hot engine exhausts, then opened fire with a stream of missiles. He launched six Stingers, then watched for any sign of pursuit. When he saw at least one Chinese missile survive, he shouted on interphone, “Reverse! Climb if possible!”

When Karbayjal made his call, Atkins had switched ejector racks, selecting the left ejector, and pumped out four more flares. Simultaneously, Carter immediately threw the Megafortress into a screaming right bank and held it until the stall-warning horn came on. “Can’t climb, guns!” Carter shouted.

“Disregard,” the gunner said as the last missile disappeared from his radarscope. “Fighter’s coming in, four miles… three miles… Stingers firing…” The Megafortress crew could hear the heavy Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! and a rumble throughout the bomber as Karbayjal fired four more missiles at the fighter closing in…

It had to be a fighter, the JS-7 pilot thought, since only a fighter could possibly move that fast. The flares that the target was ejecting seemed as bright as the sun in the complete darkness of the Celebes Sea. His PL-2 missiles obvi-

ously thought so, because they tracked and destroyed the flares with ease. He was now weaponless except for his twin- barreled 23-millimeter cannon.

But the stream of flares pointed to the target’s location, even if it wasn’t apparent on radar, so the pilot kept his throttle at min afterburner and closed in to cannon range…

Suddenly four bright bursts of light erupted right in front of his fighter, stretching from his left wingtip all the way across the nose. His JS-7 fighter began to shudder, as if shivering with fear, and the shudder continued right into a full-blown stall.

“Fayling, Fayling, Liang-Two, Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, I’m hit, I’m hit…” He saw the “Engine Overspeed” and “Hydraulic Press” lights illuminate and pulled his ejection handle seconds before his controls locked and his fighter began a death spiral to the sea.