One of the more powerful of the Luftwaffe’s ground-based stations at Brest could now see the Extender as it cruised on at high altitude, and it could also see that the Su-30MK was approaching from a perfect firing position off the tanker’s starboard rear quarter. It was still closing as the station’s operators noticed an unusual glitch on their screens and broke radio silence with the aircraft.
“Hawk-Four… please confirm… we’ve picked up a signal ‘echo’ five nautical miles directly ahead of your position, thirty nautical miles off the target’s starboard beam… please check your internal systems and advise…”
The revelation caused great consternation with the aircrew of Hawk-4, and there were a few nervous moments of checking and rechecking their search systems, all of which came up with nothing at all.
“Not possible!” The weapons officer complained in confusion. “There’s nothing in front of us except that bloody tanker!” He shook his head in frustration. “It must be a system problem at their end… we’re thirty miles from target!” But the truth hit the pilot in front of him like a sledgehammer a second later.
“Christ!” He howled, dumping his remaining external tanks and hauling desperately back on the stick. “The fucker’s behind us!” He jammed his throttles forward as the Flanker suddenly hurtled upward into a loop, g-forces jamming them both hard into their seats and hampering their breathing as their afterburners kicked in.
Thorne knew there’d been a chance of ground radar picking them up as they’d left the safety of low altitude and commenced their long climb toward the Su-30MK at full throttle. The growling lock-on signal from his IR systems had been buzzing in his ear for a few minutes during their final approach as the Lightning drew closer to firing range, the actual closing speed between the two aircraft no greater than 200km/hr.
He really felt their luck had held longer than he’d any right to ask, and they’d managed to get far closer than he’d expected at the moment the Flanker suddenly entered into a sharp, radical climbing manoeuvre, indicating the jig was up. They were still at extreme range for his Sidewinders, but distance would close far more quickly now the enemy was turning in toward them. He also knew there were just seconds before the Flanker also had a clear lock on him, and Thorne didn’t hesitate as he launched both AIM-9X Sidewinders stored within his internal weapons bays. The twin flares of their rocket motors was almost blinding against the blackness of the night sky as they hissed away beneath the aircraft in pursuit of a target that was still ten kilometres away, five thousand metres higher in altitude and completely invisible to the naked eye.
The detection of incoming missiles put the pilot of the Sukhoi at an immediate disadvantage as his radar and IRST systems detected the F-35E within seconds of rolling through the apex of the loop. Years of training kicked into action in an instant as he simultaneously fired off two missiles of his own, pulled into a hard turn away, and dumped flares and chaff in an attempt to decoy the incoming fire. Thorne also prepared to go on the defensive, but held his course for a few precious seconds as the two opposing salvoes of missiles passed close to each other in mid-air. Waiting for what instinct told him was the last safe moment, he kicked into afterburner and entered into his own series of complex manoeuvres as chaff and fiery flares also fell from beneath the rear of the Lightning in lurid streams.
The aircraft suddenly lurched upward and to one side at a rate Trumbull wouldn’t have thought possible, assuming he’d actually had time to think as he waiting for his stomach to catch up, and the pair of Vympel R-73 heat-seeking missiles were suddenly presented with an extremely difficult target. Codenamed AA-11 ‘Archer’ by NATO forces, the missile was the most modern short-range missile in the Russian Air Force’s inventory and was a simple, yet remarkably manoeuvrable design. No guided weapon was perfect however, and one of the approaching missiles quickly decided on an easier target as it veered off to starboard and followed one of the burning flares on a long journey down toward the cold Atlantic below. It detonated harmlessly a few seconds later, but the second R-73 came much closer, not so easily fooled by the flares and heavy manoeuvring.
Both Trumbull and Thorne simultaneously drew sharp, frightened breaths as the Archer sizzled past within metres of the cockpit, diverted at the last minute by another flare, and detonated just thirty metres astern. The shockwave of the blast from the 7.5kg fragmentation warhead slapped the Lightning like a giant hand, and shrapnel filled the air around the aircraft, several pieces tearing large holes through the surface of its starboard rudder. Thorne suddenly found the aircraft far more difficult to handle as the damage instantly created serious control and airflow problems.
“Well bugger me…!” He howled in anger and fear, fighting momentarily to regain level flight and praying there’d be no further missiles to dodge.
They were in no immediate danger. Hawk-4 had been targeted with two AIM-9X Sidewinders — one of just a handful of AAMs more advanced than the R-73 — and the pilot’s attention was far too focussed on avoiding his own death to consider a follow-up attack at that moment. He’d instantly banked away south and downward after firing, and turned onto a course away from the Lighting, the Sukhoi’s own incandescent flares pouring in streams from its tail accompanied by clouds of aluminium strips that glittered brightly in the illumination of those desperate fireworks.
The first of the Sidewinders held an excellent lock on the Flanker’s exhausts for most of its flight as the jet turned its nose to the south, and although it was ultimately tricked at the last moment by a tight combination of heavy manoeuvre and hissing flares, it nevertheless still detonated close enough behind the aircraft to damage its port wings and send fragments tearing along the rear fuselage. The damage mattered little, as the second Sidewinder powered on unerringly, its imaging-IR seeker head completely oblivious to a sky full of decoys. It scored a direct hit on the exhaust nozzle of the Sukhoi’s portside Lyulka turbofan and detonated on impact, also igniting the SU-30’s remaining internal fuel in a massive, billowing explosion of fire and thick smoke.
“Phoenix-Two, this is Harbinger,” Thorne began a few seconds later as he brought the Lightning back under control. As the aircraft was controlled electronically through ‘fly-by-wire’ systems, there was no real feedback of the damage through his joystick, however both men could feel the aircraft shuddering due to the disrupted airflow around the jet’s damaged twin rudders, and manoeuvres also took slightly longer than they should as a result. “Sorry about the scare there, gentlemen… we had a close call, but its all clear now and we’ve splashed one Flanker.” Thorne knew the crew of the Extender had to have noticed the all-in air battle in their area, and that was bound to raise some questions as to why their course had been rerouted in the first place.
“Receiving you, Harbinger… glad to hear everything’s OK… thanks for the heads-up.” The tone of the last sentence was distinctly sarcastic.
“Oh yeah… they’re pissed,” Thorne observed with a nod and a wry grin. “They’ll get over it though…” He keyed transmit once more. “Not a problem there, Phoenix-Two… I’m twenty-five nautical miles off your starboard beam and getting close to ‘bingo’ fuel… could definitely need some assistance.”