To their surprise and amazement, the first F-16 swooped in for a second attack run at what Chucky assumed must be another mobile missile launcher.
“If it wasn’t a launcher, then chances are, he would have turned for home and not risked his life a second time,” thought CW4 Lee.
Several SAMs again rose from the trees and raced towards the F-16, which banked hard while dispersing additional flares and chaff canisters. The pilot released a series of bombs, though it looked like he did not get as good of an alignment on them as he had the first time around. They burst into flames in the trees, but no secondary explosions could be seen.
The pilot pulled up hard, turning his aircraft nearly vertical while hitting his afterburner. Two additional SAMs leapt from the ridgeline he had just flown over and raced quickly after the aircraft. Just as it looked like he was going to outrun the missiles, they went to terminal velocity and detonated, spraying the F-16 with shrapnel. The aircraft began to disintegrate quickly. Just as the F-16 was about to explode, they saw the pilot eject.
While the aircraft began to fall to the earth below in a fiery ball of flames, the pilot began his slow descent to the ground and near-certain captivity (if the KPA did not kill him outright). Chuckey’s team was way too far away to get to the pilot quickly, although they would try anyways.
Then, maybe a couple of miles deeper in the valley, they heard the roar of a rocket. They spotted the body of a missile as it began to gain altitude, and they knew it was a ballistic missile that had just launched.
Just as they got ahold of their higher headquarters to report the missile launch and the destruction of the two F-16s, they saw five more launches.
In that moment, they all hung their heads, knowing that despite their best efforts, they had only been able to identify and destroy two missiles while another six more had successfully launched. All they could do now was relay the information to their leaders at Henhouse, and pray the vaunted missile defense systems could shoot them down.
Once he had completed the depressing call to the higher-ups, Chucky grabbed his mic and announced, “Everyone, pack up your gear. We are going to head in the direction of the downed pilot and see if we can possibly link up with him before he is captured.”
Minutes later, they were on the move towards the pilot as they saw a brief flash rush across the sky. Then they heard a low, deep rumble. What they didn’t realize is that they had just witnessed the nuclear detonation that destroyed the South Koreans Northern Air Command on Wonju Airbase.
An hour had passed since they saw the F-16 pilot eject, and figured they were close to where the pilot should have landed. Chucky told Maverick, “Switch to the pilot’s emergency frequency, and see if you can make contact with him.”
After three attempts, a voice came over the radio, shaken and scared. It was the voice of a woman-the pilot that had been shot down was a female pilot. Her voice was shaky as she relayed her surroundings to Maverick. He asked her a series of questions trying to get her to describe the surrounding area and explain if there were any KPA soldiers near her.
“I haven’t seen any enemy soldiers, although I heard some voices maybe ten minutes ago,” she responded.
After identifying a few common landmarks, they figured they were within a mile of each other. Another thirty minutes went by as Maverick and two other members of their ODA team moved through the woods to find her. They spotted her, well before she spotted them, and approached her cautiously. When it was determined there were no additional enemy soldiers in the area, they guided her to them.
As she approached their location, she still hadn’t spotted them. When they did reveal themselves, she nearly jumped out of her flight suit at the sight of the three hidden figures that just suddenly materialized right in front of her.
“These guys are good,” she thought to herself as they began to guide her back to the rest of the team.
Chucky saw her approach their hide, he stood up briefly to signal her to come and kneel down next to him. He held his hand out and shook hers. “That was some seriously impressive flying Major… Lopez,” he said as he read the name tape on her flight suit.
She smiled and quickly replied, “Well, I still got shot down, so I don’t know that it was that good.” He could see the smirk on her face in the early morning light.
“I still cannot believe you guys found me. I knew there was an ODA team in the area that had found the launchers, but I thought I was going to be captured for sure when I ejected,” she said, some fear still perceptible in her voice. “I can’t thank you guys enough for rescuing me.”
Chucky snickered. “Before you thank us, just realize you are now a part of our team. We are deep behind enemy lines and our mission is to observe and call in airstrikes. I have no idea when we will be extracted, but you can bet it’s going to be at least a week, maybe more, before we are even in helicopter range,” he said giving her a quick update on her new-found situation.
“I’d rather be stuck out here for a few weeks with you guys than a POW. Are there no officers with you guys?” she inquired, hoping she had not just insulted the team leader who had rescued her.
Smiling at the question, Chucky answered, “I am an officer.” He chortled. “We are short commissioned officers in the teams. One in four of our officers were sent to Europe to replace the losses in the Special Operations Forces prior to this war kicking off. Since I’m a CW4, I’m running the show for my A Company.”
Major Lopez nodded, understanding full well the extent of the losses from Europe. She had already lost a few friends in Europe, and then today her wingman was killed. She knew she was going to be stuck with these guys until they could be extracted. Her goal at that point was to make sure she was an asset to them and not a liability.
“What do you want me to do now Chief?” she asked.
He pulled his ruck pack off and unstrapped a Benelli M4 Super 90 combat shotgun he had brought with him as a secondary weapon. He held up the weapon to her and talked quietly. “This is a semi-automatic 12-gauge shotgun. Here is the safety,” he said as he pointed to it. Then he walked her briefly through the function of the shotgun. “It has one round in the chamber, and seven rounds in the tube. This is the extra ammunition I brought with me. It’s also the only additional ammunition we have for it, so use it sparingly.” Then he handed her the shotgun and the Bandelier of extra ammo.
“Maverick here,” he said pointing to the SF soldier who had fetched her, “will be your body man. I want you to stick closely to him and do exactly what he says. Also, listen to our other teammates. You need to stay quiet; do not talk above a whisper. Only once Maverick tells you it’s ok can you speak in a normal voice. We are going to move to our next OP and get set up for our next mission. Do you understand everything, Major?” His tone indicated she needed to do as she was told.
“She may be a Major, but she is on our turf now, and if she wants to live, she needs to listen to us,” CW4 Lee thought.
Major Lopez took the shotgun, examining it briefly and placed the extra ammo around her shoulder along with her 9mm pistol. She nodded in acknowledgement of what Chief Lee had told her. She was just glad they had found her and not the KPA. As a woman, she knew if she had been captured she probably would have been raped mercilessly by the enemy soldiers.
The team started to move to their next observation point, quietly hoping they had not been discovered while retrieving the downed pilot. The next several hours were spent moving slowly through the forested hills and valleys of the area, until they reached their next OP. Once there, they began to spread out and form a defensive perimeter. They pulled out their spotting scopes and directional microphones and went back to work, looking for mobile missile launchers and targets of opportunity.