Raw Scene GCI

05 January 1982
Texas Air National Guard
Ellington AFB

Captain George “Nomad” Bush was worn out. In the weeks since the Nuclear exchange between France and the Soviet Union, the Texas Air National Guard had been on the highest of Alerts. Even when both NATO and the Warsaw Pact forces declared a cessation of nuclear hostilities, the operational tempo hadn’t slackened. 

Those bastards can’t be trusted, thought Nomad. They were preaching peace right up to the minute they invaded West Germany. The TANG kept a constant interceptor presence in the air. Now the “Ready Five” units were the second line of defense, while the Combat Air Patrol, or CAP, was the first. Today, Nomad was leading a flight of four F-106 Delta Darts over the Gulf of Mexico. 

“Lonestar Two, this is Kelly Control.” The voice startled Nomad. 

“Kelly Control, Lonestar Two, copy.” 

“Lonestar Two, Kelly Control. We need you to take a look at something. Come to one-two-seven degrees. A Navy Orion picked up a faint contact that may be low altitude aircraft. We need you to take a look.” 

“Kelly Control, Lonestar Two, understood. Coming to a heading of one-two-seven degrees and dropping to five thousand feet.” 

Dammit, this is going to burn a lot of fuel, thought Nomad as he pushed his stick forward and to the right, putting his fighter in a diving turn. 

“Kelly Control, do we have an estimated range?”  

“The Navy was a bit fuzzy. They were looking for Subs, not incoming bombers.” 

“Understood Kelly Control,” said Nomad. Then to his flight, “Lonestar two to Baker flight, engage your MG-13s. Let’s see what we can see out there.” He reached down and flipped the switch, turning on his XXX. 

“Kelly Control, Lonestar Two. You might want to tell them Squids that they need more practice with their radars. We’ve got nothing out here.” 

“Understood Lonestar Two, maintain heading one-two-seven-”

“Hang on Kelly Control. We might have something… We’re getting interference along the line of bearing.” 

“I don’t like this, Nomad,” said Lieutenant “Speedy” Gonzales, Nomad’s wingman. 

“Just keep it together, Speedy. We have no idea what’s out there,” said Nomad. “But whatever it is, we can assume that it has hostile intentions.” He then switched back to Kelly Control. 

“Kelly Control, what are our rules of engagement on this?” 

“Lonestar two, Kelly Control. We are in the process of getting launch authority clarifications. Right now, you are weapons tight.” 

Damit, thought Nomad, now we’re facing the unknown with our hands tied behind our backs. Baker flight pushed on, deeper into the jamming. 

“Baker Flight, Nomad. Come right to course one-seven-five.” Nomad thought that perhaps they could work their way around the jamming. 

I should have learned more about electronic warfare when I had the chance, he mused. As the nose of the F-106 pointed south-southeast, the interference lessened and then disappeared altogether. That puts the jammer to the north east. But how far out? And how long can I maintain this heading before I lose my intercept angle? 

“Okay boys, whatever is out there is to the north east. Come to course zero-four-five. Kelly Control, Lonestar Two. Any word on if we’re firing on these assholes?” There was a pause.

“Nomad, it’s Colonel Lane. Listen, we don’t have launch authorization at this point. I’m making the call. If you encounter foreign bombers, you are weapons free.” 

“Understood, thank you Colonel,” replied Nomad as he watched the jamming cloud his radar once again. 

“Contact,” said Speedy, “bearing zero-six-two.” 

“What do you got?” asked Nomad.

“Unknown… wait. Large Contact… Angels twenty-three.”

“Nomad, Hippy. I’ve got four large contacts making six hundred knots on the deck.” 

“Bearing?” 

“”Bearing zero-three-three.” 

“Shit, they’re going to get past us,” replied Nomad. 

“What about the high alt bird?” asked Speedy. 

“I think that’s our Jammer,” said Nomad. “Either way, these fast movers represent a hostile threat to the homeland. Form on me, and push your throttles to the notch.” Nomad was pushing his flight to full military power to chase down the enemy bombers. Before they could even complete the turn his radio burst to life. 

“Nomad, Speedy. We’ve got multiple high altitude contacts. I think they’re fighters.” 

“Ignore them. The bombers are our concern,” said Nomad as he opened his weapons bay doors. He could hear his voice as he said the words, and he hoped that they conveyed more confidence than he felt right now. Turning his back on enemy fighters that wanted to kill him didn’t sit well with him. “Listen, we’re going to need to get in close to make a good trailing shot. These bastards are really moving.” Up to this point, Nomad had always prepared to fire at incoming bombers. With the enemy closing on him, he could fire his missiles from farther out, since the enemy would close some of the distance. 

Nomad looked over his right shoulder and could see four dots high on his six o’clock. He looked forward again and could clearly make out the Soviet made Tu-22 bombers on the deck. The “Blinder” was completely outclassed by more modern designs. But in the here and now, Nomad was reminded that everything was relative. These may be antiquated, but they were a real threat. 

Who am I kidding? Thought Nomad, those bombers are a newer design than the Six I’m flying. Relics fighting relics. The flight of four F-106s ran after the fleeing Tu-22s and away from the descending MiG-21s. It was a deadly race that was coming to an end. As the Delta Darts crossed within three miles of the Blinders, Nomad gave the order. 

“Engage,” He watched as three AIM-4N missiles sped away from the formation and towards the bombers. 

“Shit,” said Speedy. After another pause, a fourth missile was loosed. 

“Engage,” repeated Nomad, and this time, four missiles were fired simultaneously. 

Speedy hadn’t opened his weapons bay,  thought Nomad. He watched as the missiles ran down their quarry. The Blinders jinked and slid as chaff clouds and flares burst behind them. Nomad saw two of the first three missiles explode harmlessly behind the bombers. The Third managed a kill, detonating and blowing the tail and two engines off its target. Speedy’s delayed Falcon missile also managed a kill. He didn’t have much hope for the second salvo. These were older AIM-4D missiles. They were worse than the “N” variant in every way. Never-the-less, one of the four took out another of the Blinders. 

“Shit, we’ve gotta get out of there,” said Hippy. “MiG-21s, right on top of us.” Nomad didn’t take his eyes off of the lone remaining bomber. 

“Cover me, fellas,” said Nomad, “I’m going to make a guns pass on this bastard. His mission, his sole reason for being at the moment was to stop the bombers. He thought of Laura and his parents in Houston. For all he knew, this Tu-22 was carrying a nuclear payload that could destroy everything he loved. 

“Cover you?” asked Speedy. Then “”Breaking, I’m engaged.” The Bomber grew larger and larger in Nomad’s view. He fired a burst, but it fell far short. 

Stupid. You can’t hurry this. 

“Nomad, you’ve got one on you, break!” said Hippy. Nomad pulled back lightly on the stick and dispensed a string of flares before pushing forward and re-acquiring his target. He fired another burst, this time his tracers passed over the tail of the aircraft. He adjusted his aim as the tail gun of the bomber returned fire. He ignored it, and ensured that he put rounds on target.

 The twin engines on the rear of the plane twinkled as twenty millimeter rounds tore into them. Black smoke poured from the engines, and Nomad pulled back on the stick again, and pushed his throttle past the notch, engaging his afterburner. The thrust pushed him back and as he flew over the stricken bomber, he pushed forward on the stick to get onto the deck, hoping to get some distance from the MiGs so that he could assess the situation.  

“Baker flight. Report,” said Nomad, once he was clear. 

“Nomad, Speedy. We’re dispersed. Once the MiGs hit us, it was every man for himself. We lost Hippy and Cap, but the MiGs withdrew once you hit that last bomber. I’ve lost visual contact with you.” 

“Kelly Control, Lonestar Two. I have two units returning to base, Winchester,” said Nomad, indicating that his flight was out of relevant ammo. 

“Understood Lonestar two. Be advised, Able and Charlie flights are inbound to your position.” 

“Kelly Control, understood, but I believe the threat has been neutralized.” 

“Negative Lonestar Two. I don’t know what Jose is playing at, but you only engaged a fragment of the strike. While you were engaging those blinders, we picked up a flight of Badgers. It’s almost like they were trying to lure you out with the Jammer and the Badgers, so they could sneak in the Blinders on the deck. 

“Longhorn One, this is Lonestar Two. Good hunting Gadget, hopefully those MiGs are Bingo after our skirmish.” 

“Lonestar Two, Longhorn one. Copy that Nomad, it looks like the whole circus is turning back for Cuba. We’ll see if we can nab a couple of those Badgers to keep Jose from thinking he can pull this shit without consequences.” With the battle handed off, Captain George “Nomad” Bush, relaxed and pointed his Six back towards Ellington Air Base.