this is lead, let’s get goin’” With that, he tripped his brakes and the fighter started moving, driven by its powerful Pratt & Whitney engines. A bunch of Russians, mainly groundcrewmen, but judging by the outfits, some drivers as well, were out on the ramp watching him and his flight. Okay, he thought, we’ll show ’em how we do things downtown. The four taxied in pairs to the end of the runway and then roared down the concrete slabs, and pulled back into the air, wingman tucked in tight. Seconds later, the other two pulled up and they turned south, already talking to the nearest AWACS, Eagle Two.
“Eagle Two, this is Boar Leader in the air with four.”
“Boar Leader, this is Eagle Two. We have you. Come south, vector one-seven-zero, climb and maintain flight level three-three. Looks like there’s going to be some work for ya today, over.”
“Suits me. Out.” Colonel Winters—he’d just been deep-dip selected for his bird as a full bull colonel—wiggled a little in his seat to get things just right, and finished his climb to 33,000 feet. His radar system was off, and he wouldn’t speak unnecessarily because someone out there might be listening, and why spoil the surprise? In a few minutes, he’d be entering the coverage of Chinese border radar stations. Somebody would have to do something about that. Later today, he hoped, the Little Weasel F-16s would go and see about those. But his job was Chinese fighter aircraft, and any bombers that might offer themselves. His orders were to remain over Russian airspace for the entire mission, and so if Joe Chink didn’t want to come out and play, it would be a dull day. But Joe had Su-27s, and he thought those were pretty good. And Joe Chink Fighter Pilot probably thought he was pretty good, too.
So, they’d just have to see.
Otherwise, it was a good day for flying, two-tenths clouds and nice clean country air to fly in. His falcon’s eyes could see well over a hundred miles from up here, and he had Eagle Two to tell him where the gomers were. Behind him, a second and third flight of four Eagles were each taking off. The Wild Boars would be fully represented today.
The train ride was fairly jerky. Lieutenant Colonel Giusti squirmed in his upright coach seat, trying to get a little bit comfortable, but the Russian-made coach in which he and his staff were riding hadn’t been designed with creature comforts in mind, and there was no sense grumbling about it. It was dark outside, the early morning that children sensibly take to be nighttime, and there wasn’t much in the way of lights out there. They were in Eastern Poland now, farm country, probably, as Poland was evolving into the Iowa of Europe, lots of pig farms to make the ham for which this part of the world was famous. Vodka, too, probably, and Colonel Giusti wouldn’t have minded a snort of that at the moment. He stood and walked down the aisle of the car. Nearly everyone aboard was asleep or trying to be. Two sensible NCOs were stretched out on the floor instead of curled up on the seats. The dirty floor wouldn’t do their uniforms much good, but they were heading to combat operations, where neatness didn’t really count all that much. Personal weapons were invariably stowed in the overhead racks, in the open for easy access, because they were all soldiers, and they didn’t feel very comfortable without a usable weapon close by. He continued aft. The next coach had more troopers from Headquarters Company. His squadron sergeant major was in the back of that one, reading a paperback.
“Hey, Colonel,” the sergeant major said in greeting. “Long ride, ain’t it?”
“At least three more days to go, maybe four.”
“Super,” the senior non-com observed. “This is worse’n flying.”
“Yeah, well, at least we got our tracks with us.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How’s the food situation?”
“Well, sir, we all got our MREs, and I got me a big box of Snickers bars stashed. Any word what’s happening in the world?”
“Just that it’s started in Siberia. The Chinese are across the border and Ivan’s trying to stop ’em. No details. We ought to get an update when we go through Moscow, after lunchtime, I expect.”
“Fair ’nuff.”
“How are the troopers taking things?”
“No problems, bored with the train ride, want to get back in their tracks, the usual.”
“How’s their attitude?”
“They’re ready, Colonel,” the sergeant-major assured him.
“Good.” With that, Giusti turned and headed