As their aircraft were being refueled, the copilot-gunners gathered off to the left of their aircraft. A few, stopping to relieve themselves first, were slow in rallying. While they waited for everyone to gather, there was the customary stretching and yawning of men confined in a tight space for a long time. There was little talk. The battalion commander conferred with Jackson and Cerro while Mennzinger and the C Company commander counted their people as they closed up on the group. When all were ready, Mennzinger, designated second in command for the operation, gave the battalion commander the high sign.
The briefing was short. The battalion commander informed them that as of 2300 hours local, there had been no changes in the composition or location of the airfield's air defense weapons. Therefore, there was no need to change the plan. The four aircraft from C Company had kept the mission of taking out the air defense positions. Pausing for a moment, the battalion commander introduced the C Company commander to Sergeant Jackson. He told them to get together after the briefing to make sure C Company understood everything there was to know about the enemy. After that there was a weather update.
With the winds coming from the southwest, the battalion commander decided to take the Apaches that would designate for the F-111s to a position southeast of the airfield. From there, they would mark the targets with their lasers, hitting those to the north and northeast first, then working south and southeast, so that smoke and debris from the first load of bombs dropped from the F-111s would not interfere with those following.
The briefing was over in fifteen minutes, and each crew went to its own aircraft. Those who had not done so earlier stopped on their way to relieve themselves. By the time they reached their Apaches, the fuel handlers were disconnecting the nozzles and preparing the aircraft for departure.
From one side Cerro watched with Duncan. "Well, First Sergeant, so far so good. Ten Apaches planned for and ten in."
Duncan grunted. "If you don't mind me saying so, sir, I'll be a damned sight happier when there's ten sitting here at 0430 pointed the other way. I'm not exactly keen on being this far out in bad-guy country."
Cerro didn't respond. He only watched. As the aircraft began to crank up, he prepared to leave. "Well, First Sergeant, I'm off."
"You sure you want to do this? I mean, you're already six hundred miles inside somebody else's country. I really don't see the need to go any further just to be there when the Blackhawks pick up your buddy."
Cerro put a hand on Duncan's shoulder. "First Sergeant, not only do I feel honor-bound to do so, I'm bored shitless sitting here listening to the wind blow and smelling fumes from aviation fuel. Besides, you know I never pass up a helicopter ride."
Duncan shook his head. "You're lucky you're an officer, sir. Otherwise I'd tell you how stupid that kind of thinking is."
"That's what I like about you, First Sergeant — you have tact. Well, adios." Cerro turned and walked over to where the two Blackhawks designated to follow the strike were cranking up. The Blackhawks would recover both the Special Forces team, under Kinsly, and any Apache crews that went down before, during, or after the raid.
At 0130 hours, without any signals or radio calls, the lead Apache lifted off and started to head south. In a staggered line the other nine rose up and followed. Two minutes behind them, the Blackhawks followed. By 0135 hours the refuel point was quiet again. There'd be a slight readjustment of blivets, a relaying of fuel lines, and then three hours of waiting.
Chapter 17
I am your king. You are Frenchmen. There is the enemy. Charge!
The Soviet Ilyushin 76 airborne warning aircraft continued to inch its way to the coast. Ordered to monitor the activities of the American warships and their aircraft in the Red Sea, the Ilyushin 76 left its normal patrol pattern. As it began its surveillance, the Ilyushin became the target of several American electronic warfare aircraft. Determined to blind the Ilyushin with jamming and interference, one of the American EW aircraft was operating to the north, coming out of Egypt. The other apparently was operating from the American carrier in the Red Sea. Unable to maintain his cover in western Sudan and accomplish its new mission, the commander of the Ilyushin found himself moving eastward. Dutifully he reported that he could no longer cover the area around Al Fasher and Port Sudan simultaneously. He asked for clarification as to which area had priority. There was a pause on the radio; he then was told to wait for further orders. It took twenty minutes before someone on the ground in Africa, or Moscow, made a decision. The orders — to monitor the American fleet — were relayed through the Soviet embassy in Khartoum, Sudan.
Even before he received those orders, the senior officer on board the Ilyushin had initiated steps to work through the jamming. The operators sitting at their consoles in the body of the Ilyushin 76 waged a silent war with American electronic warfare aircraft to the north and east. Using frequency hopping, increases in power, multiple assets aimed at a single source, and other techniques, the crew of the Ilyushin worked to gather intelligence on the Americans. The shifting of the aircraft to the east made their task easier.
A quick analysis by the senior officer on board the Ilyushin showed moves and deployments that normally preceded an amphibious assault. He and his crew had seen it all before. They had studied it and had had an opportunity to observe it during NATO and 6th Fleet exercises in the Mediterranean. Therefore, determining what was happening was easy. It was the why and where that puzzled everyone. In Moscow, intelligence officers searched for an answer. To put troops ashore in Sudan, ostensibly a friendly country, made no sense. There was no way that U.S. possession of that port would be able to interfere with the airlift further west. Perhaps, one naval officer suggested, the Americans were trying to secure the southern flank of Egypt. Perhaps, another suggested, they were conducting a feint against Port Sudan, that the real target was in Ethiopia.
There was little time to pinpoint intended point of attack. There was even less time to devote to the why. With so few assets in the area, orders had to be given soon. What forces they had needed to be massed in order to counteract, and perhaps even prevent, the Americans' operation. Until the decision was made as to what to do, the Ilyushin operating east of Atbara, Sudan, and another over the Red Sea flying out of Gondar, Ethiopia, would continue to watch and report.
Anticipation began to build, gradually replacing the dull monotony of the approach flight. Mennzinger could feel his heart rate slowly increase as they began to close on the target. The checkpoints were more numerous now, their turns more frequent and their altitude lower. They were well within range of the Soviet SA-9 surface-to-air defense missiles. So far they had been lucky. Their radar warning receivers hadn't picked up any Soviet radar signals bouncing off them. Mennzinger hoped their luck would hold for another ten minutes. Even if it didn't, however, they were committed. There would be no backing out. At this point the only thing staying undetected by the Soviets for as long as possible did was to increase their chances of surprise and, equally important, their chances of survival.