“So that still leaves you with the problem of how to handle the Führer,” Schiller noted, diverting the subject slightly.
“That, I’m painfully aware of,” Reuters admitted, smiling once more, if ruefully, “…and I’ll think seriously on it.”
“…And of these newcomers…?” From Müller this time.
“That’s another matter entirely, Joachim, and with the potential problems you’ve so eloquently put forward, it’s one we do need to deal with quickly.” He turned his gaze to his friend and 2IC. “Tell me, Herr Generalleutnant Schiller: as my capable master of intelligence, how do you imagine this changes our thoughts on the unexpected and very unhistorical expansions of Scapa Flow our reconnaissance aircraft have been observing over the last year? Not simply the result of a flow-on effect our own presence created, as we — it seems — rather arrogantly assumed originally?”
“The benefits of twenty-twenty hindsight, Kurt…?” Schiller gave a wry smile, adding quickly: “No pun intended. Perhaps the obvious questions — particularly that of what might require the construction of several kilometres of runway — should’ve appeared more obvious? Original Abwehr and Naval Intelligence reports of those upgrades started surfacing roughly twelve months ago, before the war began…so we can imagine that Hindsight — I’ll assume its Hindsight until proven otherwise at this point — has had someone on the ground here for that long at least. Yet this Joint Strike Fighter appears today rather than any other time? Surely we’d have encountered some evidence of the bloody thing already if it’d arrived here before today? And what needs three thousand metres of runway? Not a fucking F-35B, that’s for sure…or any tactical strike aircraft worth its salt…” he grimaced “…strategic bombers, on the other hand…”
“Or heavy transports…!” Joachim suddenly cut in, taking the conversation away from previously covered ground. Both men’s eyes fell upon him as he smiled broadly, the light of realisation on his face. “Really heavy transports…!”
“Go on…” Reuters urged softly, his eyes intense and fathomless as he recognised the expression the man often displayed when experiencing an epiphany.
“A Galaxy, for example, or one of those bloody great Antonovs for that matter: either of those big bastards would need the better part of three thousand metres to take off when fully loaded. If they do have all four TDUs, then we know that one of those is in that F-35. Their intel would’ve told them that we had four Flankers on our side, courtesy of the CIS and the Chechen Mafia via that pleasant little Pakistani arms dealer…do you think they’d have taken the chance on just one fighter being able to deal with all four Su-30s if they attacked all at once…even one fighter as advanced and stealthy as an F-35? I’d ask for at least one other fighter… a dedicated air combat aircraft: maybe an Eagle or a Tornado F3…perhaps a Eurofighter or a Rafale…something brand new — ‘straight off the rack’.”
“Raptor…” Schiller said softly, capturing the others’ attention instantly. “Why go back a generation for any of them if they’ve already been given one of the most advanced stealth aircraft on earth to play with? If you’re going to go ‘balls-out’ with an air superiority fighter, it stands to reason the only possible choice would be an F-22…”
“Have to keep an eye out for that, then…” Reuters nodded thoughtfully, not liking the concept but unable to fault his friend’s logic. “We’ll make sure Sentry is briefed to report any erroneous or unexpected emissions.” Inwardly, he cursed the fact that the aircraft was an old, ex-Soviet model with comparatively less sophisticated equipment…although he also recognised that it was probably a moot point anyway: the stealthy nature of a Lightning or Raptor would make either basically invisible even to the most advanced AWACS aircraft at anything more than suicidal ranges.
“If we assume a maximum of four units then we probably have two cargoes and two escorts,” Müller decided with some confidence, also accepting the F-22 theory as logical. “In their shoes I’d want as much equipment as I could get.”
“To do what with…?” Reuters frowned, tapping his fingers on the table top with mild frustration. “Say they do have a couple of C-5s or Antonovs? What do they bring with them: a load of cruise missiles to threaten us…Harpoons perhaps to sink our invasion force — or at least put a serious dent in it? Personally, I’d think the nuclear deterrent angle would be a better option — even the Führer would take notice of the threat of nuclear weapons……probably…” he added finally with unwilling honesty. He noticed Schiller’s mouth beginning to open and cut him off with the raise of a hand. “And no, Albert — I’m not ready to tell him exactly how powerful this field of research is just yet. Explain atomic weapons completely on a Tuesday and our Chancellor would be demanding a gross of them by Friday…” Reuters gave a chuckle. “…Last Friday, at that…!” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand more in recognition of the fact that he was dog-tired rather than that anything had been resolved.
“We can speculate about it all we like but until we get a clear idea of what they have there — or what they don’t have — we really have nothing at all. We have two Flankers left…”
“A recon mission…?” Schiller suggested. “We can send one over Scapa Flow with a camera pod and have the glossies on your desk within five hours…”
“…And we can have both Flankers back there a few hours later if need be with thousand kilo bombs…” Reuters finished with finality “…but not tonight…” he finished firmly. “We’re all tired and I have something I need to take care of first thing in the morning. We’ll run the mission tomorrow night after sunset — that’ll give the ground crew plenty of time to prep and test the aircraft and equipment. I believe Sentry had a minor engine problem today they need to fix, anyway.”
“She’s developed some more irregularities in one of the engines…” Müller confirmed with some frustration, nodding. “It’s those bloody replacement compressor blades again: the metal in the rest of the aircraft doesn’t age or wear any more than we do, but the blades we had to replace due to damage do.” He shrugged. “…The replacement parts wear, and the quality isn’t as high as the originals to begin with, and they keep throwing everything out of sync and eventually fail as a result. It’s like the rest of the plane keeps ‘rejecting them’ and it’s something we’re going to have to live with…”