The two contacts moved fast down her radar display, and, with the bombers on collision course, she turned into them. Looking over her leading edge extension, Olive continued to monitor the radar. She knew that if she seemed comfortable with the closure rate at this high altitude and airspeed, she was likely slow and behind.
At ninety degrees, Olive had her left shoulder on their noses. Resisting the urge to back off, she kept the easy turn in as the Russians seemed to stop moving on her canopy, uncomfortable the whole time. She was thankful they were bombers and not fighters with forward quarter weapons she would be flying in front of right now. Holding at.98 mach, she saw they were tight on the trailer as Dusty slid under to her right side in order to keep sight on all the aircraft. Olive overbanked away for a count, then eased out. It worked, and the trailer moved forward with a small advantage in relative airspeed. Now Olive could make out a red number on the nose of the light gray aircraft, as well as the Russian red star on the tail. The bomber’s wings were swept back as it held a transonic airspeed.
Without having to be told, Dusty eased back for more separation as Olive crept closer. She stepped up on the trailer and peered into the cockpit of the big bomber. She could see the helmeted Russian co-pilot looking back at her — and at the AMRAAM missile under her left wing.
“Condor, Firebirds are joined and escorting. Low state seven point four,” Olive transmitted.
While Olive flew formation on the trailer, the lead bomber turned easy left, building separation from his wingman who maintained heading. Seconds later, the trailer rolled into her, and Olive pulled hard away to maintain clearance. The bomber rolled out on a southwest heading as the lead continued east. At first puzzled about why they would break formation in such a way, Olive realized it was evident “her” Blackjack was going through the Mona Passage, heading right at the ship. Condor and Coral Sea needed to know this ASAP.
“Condor, the bogeys have broken formation. Lead aircraft continuing east. Trailer now heading two-two-zero.”
“Roger, Firebird. Maintain contact,” the E-2 mission commander replied.
“Condor, unable on both aircraft. We’re staying with the trailer heading southwest.”
“Condor copies.”
Although it was risky to leave the lead bomber alone as it transited north of Puerto Rico, Olive wanted to keep Dusty with her as they escorted the trailing aircraft. She took out her camera and snapped photos of the big Russian as she struggled, even at military power, to stay on its wing. Soon that was not enough, and she had to enter min-range afterburner to stay with it.
“He’s speeding up,” she called to Dusty. About a mile behind, he could observe the yellow glow from the bomber’s four giant engine exhausts.
“Yeah, looks like he’s in blower,” Dusty replied as all three aircraft became supersonic.
Now inside 200 miles from the ship, the bomber began to descend and headed toward a large cloud buildup on their nose. With the increased drag of the drop tanks, racks, and pods she was carrying, Olive had difficulty staying in full burner. She bunted the nose to gain a few knots as the ambient noise of increased airflow built outside her canopy.
“Condor, three-zero-zero. He’s descending and accelerating,” she transmitted to the E-2. Her running commentary was also monitored by the ship.
The bomber was leading them into a towering column of cloud as it passed 30,000 feet in a shallow descent. Olive was now locked on its right wingtip in full burner, with no excess power if it pulled away. The wall of white loomed closer, and Olive had to decide to stay with it or turn away. In an instant she decided to stay with the Blackjack. Its co-pilot continued to stare back at her.
“Can you still see the lead?” she asked Dusty.
“Just a dot now, still heading east. I’m locked on you a mile aft.”
“Roger.”
With airspeed building to 1.1 times the speed of sound, the bomber entered the cloud with Olive in welded wing. Both aircraft then began to shake in the turbulence, and Olive fought hard to keep sight. They broke free and then plunged into more clouds, the bomber extinguishing the navigation lights as they did so. Olive’s initial thought was that the jet was experiencing an electrical failure, but she soon realized they had secured the lights on purpose.
Olive slid behind, and despite pushing the throttles to the stops, she could not slow the rate of drift. The bomber’s wingtip was fading from view, and she couldn’t stay with it. Before losing sight, she turned away to the right and transitioned to an instrument scan.
“Lost sight. Coming right,” she informed Dusty.
“Roger, radar contact.”
Olive broke clear and paralleled the bomber’s last heading. It soon broke free of the clouds about a half mile ahead, still descending, the yellow glow from the burner cans clearly visible. Impressive, Olive thought as the bomber accelerated away from her, wings swept all the way back.
She heard the E-2 coordinate with an incoming section of fighters launched from the ship. At this lower altitude, her Hornet devouring fuel in afterburner, she needed them here soon. The good news was they were closing the ship fast. Good news for her, but bad news for the ship and the threat the Blackjack represented.
Inside 100 miles from Coral Sea, the bomber slowed as it passed 20,000 feet in its steady descent. Olive again joined up on its right side and again saw the co-pilot observing her. She then moved forward in the straps as her Hornet shuddered from the invisible transition from supersonic to transonic airspeed. As Olive reported these changes to Condor, her eyes widened in shock. With no warning, the large bomb-bay doors opened, and the bomber turned into her in an effort to shield whatever it was carrying inside. Alarmed, Olive keyed the mike.
“Condor, Firebird. The bogey just opened its bomb-bay doors!”
This news focused everyone on the frequency, and, in Coral Sea’s Combat Decision Center, the Tactical Action Officer barked, “Sound General Quarters!”
Within seconds, the 1MC sounded the GQ alarm throughout the ship, and 5,000 sailors reacted with a combination of confusion and apprehension as they scrambled to their stations.
BONG, BONG, BONG, BONG…
“General Quarters! General Quarters! All hands man your battle stations! Up and forward on the starboard side, down and aft on the port side! Set material condition Zebra throughout the ship!”
BONG, BONG, BONG, BONG…
In his ready room chair, Commander Jim Wilson noted this was no drill and felt the eyes of his subordinates on him. He didn’t know what was going on but knew Olive and Dusty were out there.
“What the hell?”
CHAPTER 39
Olive overbanked down to get away from and to get under the Blackjack. She also wanted to see what was in the open bomb bay. The bomber kept the turn in, and when Olive slid underneath, the big jet reversed left, almost like a fighter, so she couldn’t get a look inside. The sudden and provocative moves signaled hostility, and Olive, having had enough bobbing and weaving with the 500,000-pound monster, fell back behind the Blackjack.