By wagging her wings, Furness directed the flight of Vampires to close up into fingertip formation, then checked in with the Turkish F-16 flight leader and checked in her flight on the new frequency. When the twelve Vampires were back in close formation, the four F-16 fighters bracketed them in, one fighter in the lead and the others above and behind Charlie Flight. The leader then began to descend; Furness had no choice but to follow. The F-16 leader descended below 12,800 feet, the minimum safe altitude for the Incirlik area. The weather was clear and the visibility was good, but it was still very unusual. “Where in hell are we going?” Furness finally asked.
The flight dropped below 12,000 feet, then below 10,000 feet — now the tops of the Taurus Mountains of southern Turkey were well above them. “We’re in the Cardasik River valley,” Fogelman said. He reached behind his seat and extracted the Turkey FLIP (Flight Information Publication), scanned it, and then set several frequencies into the navigation radios and into the nav computers. The VOR and TACAN radios centered on a station straight ahead, and soon the ILS (Instrument Landing System) director bars became active. “It looks like they’re taking us to Kayseri,” Fogelman said. “It’s a Turkish training base, north of a very large industrial city. Very high terrain south, a big-ass mountain over 12,800 feet high. Two parallel runways, two-six left and right.” He reached over and set in the runway heading in Rebecca’s horizontal situation indicator to make it easier for her to visualize the runway setup — to her knowledge that was the first time he had ever reached across the center of the cockpit to adjust one of the pilot’s flight instruments. “Northern runway is the longest, main part of the base north. Inertial winds are from the west, so we’ll probably be landing on two-six left. Field elevation 3,506 feet. Normally has only F-5 and a few F-16s stationed there. Defended by Hawk missile batteries — they probably have Patriot by now — but I’m not picking up anything but search radar and navigation beacons.”
“Mark, I’m sorry about all the things I’ve ever said or thought about you,” Furness said. “Your crew coordination on this deployment has been great. After wanting to wring your neck for so long, now I couldn’t stand the thought of you on anyone else’s crew — I mean that. I think you should get smacked in the head more often.”
“Thanks.” Fogelman chuckled. “You saved my life, what can I say?” He scanned around outside until the other planes were in fingertip formation, then pointed out the window straight ahead: “Field in sight.”
The formation of planes flew west of the city, descended to five thousand feet as they swept north of the field, then turned westbound and lined up on the long runway at Kayseri. The F-16s joined up when the Vampires were five miles from the end of the runway, flew to midfield, then executed an overhead break to enter the visual pattern for landing. Furness did a quick wing jab to the left, indicating that each formation line get in fingertip formation on the left side for a right break, then she swept her wings back slowly to 54 degrees and set 350 knots airspeed. This fast tactical approach allowed the crews to survey the landing runway while still protecting themselves from any ground threats that might unexpectedly pop up.
“Formation’s in,” Fogelman reported. “Everyone looks good. Field elevation set in the altimeter bug, and I’ve got radar altitude plus field elevation set for the altimeter setting. Ready with the before-landing checklist. I…” He hesitated, checked his threat indicators and the RHAWS (Radar Homing And Warning System) scope, and tapped it in confusion. “I just picked up an India-band search radar, low PRF, no bearing or identification. Could be another aircraft just hit us with a ranging radar. See anything out your side?”
Furness scanned the skies all around them, then shook her head. “Nope, it’s clear. Nothing locked on to us?”
“It’s gone now,” Fogelman said. “Too short for a missile track.”
“Well, I hope if they got Hawks or Patriots down there, they’ll use them if any bad guys show up,” Furness said. “Let’s go with the checklist.”
As the formation of Vampires passed over the airfield, Fogelman took a moment to scan the field. He saw an enormous number of fighters parked on the northeast ramp — well over a hundred, with service vehicles, trucks, and weapons-loading equipment scattered around. “Looks like we’re not the only ones here,” he said to Rebecca. “Shitload of planes — they look like British Tornados or Jaguars. NATO must be deploying to this base to set up air ops against the Russians. Jeez, I wish they’d tell us what the hell is going on. I see a Hawk missile site, but no Patriots.” He returned his scan to the wingmen as Furness passed midfield and began a 60-degree right break to the overhead pattern for landing. As she continued the break and the airspeed bled away, she eased the wings forward to 16 degrees, and when she rolled out parallel to the runway, she lowered the landing gear handle, extended the slats and one notch of flaps, and began a slow 190-knot descent for landing. Her Bravo Flight wingmen accomplished the same overhead break every five seconds, while Charlie Flight did the same ten seconds afterward.
“I got a green light from the tower,” Fogelman said. Visibility for the pilot out the right side of the cockpit was poor, so she relied on the navigator to scan the touchdown area for her. “Runway’s clear, no arresting cable, no ice or snow that I can see. Couple of planes on the taxiway moving toward the hammerhead … Jesus, what kind of planes are those?”
“Lead, bandits!” someone shouted on the primary radio. “Ten o’clock high!”
Rebecca’s head snapped left and her eyes scanned the sky … and there, diving down at them from very close in, was a Russian Sukhoi-17 fighter-bomber. Its outline was unmistakable — a long, thin frame, blunt nose, sharply swept wings with the outer section swept forward for better slow-speed performance. It was carrying two small air-to-air missiles that resembled Sidewinders. The jet was low and slow, but it had Rebecca right in its sights. “Lead, break right!” Joe Johnson shouted again in the command radio. “It’s rolling into you! We got it locked up!”
“Don’t you dare shoot at me,” a familiar voice came on the frequency in English. “Hold your fire, number two — don’t you dare put a Sidewinder up my tail. We’re just overshooting a little. Stand by.” To their amazement, when the Sukhoi-17 finally rolled out right beside Furness’ plane, they saw none other than Lieutenant Colonel Daren Mace in the rear seat of the tandem two-place Russian bomber. They then noticed there was no red star or flag on the tail — instead, in large black Latin letters on the camouflaged side were the words FREEZ UKRAYINA AIR FORCE. Even more incredible, the Su-17 was carrying a strange pod that they recognized as an AN/AQQ-901 electronics interface and data pod on one side, and on the other side, it carried an AGM-88C HARM antiradar missile.
“Let us go first — we’re a little skosh on fuel,” Daren Mace radioed, waving happily at Rebecca. With that, the fighter-bomber accelerated ahead of the lead RF-111G, then turned abruptly toward the runway when it was less than one hundred yards in front of Furness’ bomber. Rebecca had to extend a bit to let the Ukrainian fighter land, but in just a few seconds she began her turn to final and set up for the landing. After landing and clearing the runway, Rebecca waited on the main taxiway behind a yellow Follow Me truck as the rest of her flight landed and taxied behind her; then, with wings swept back to 54 degrees, they taxied together to the parking ramp.