Dushak had a lot of problems with Kostenko as his wingman. The younger pilot was much more aggressive than Dushak. The Air Force had been trying to encourage pilots to show more initiative and daring, but Dushak felt that Kostenko carried this a bit too far. Dushak had been trained in the old-fashioned way, which placed more stress on central control from the GCI (ground-controlled intercept) handlers. Kostenko made it no secret that he wanted to be assigned to "free-lance" squadrons, which were used for offensive fighter sweeps. He was very unhappy with the escort missions and air defense patrols that the squadron had been assigned since the outset of the war. Kostenko seemed to imply that Dushak was cowardly for not engaging in more aggressive maneuvers during the missions. Dushak had spoken to the regiment commander about Kostenko, but was left feeling mat the commander had more sympathy for Kostenko than himself. "New equipment requires new approaches, Comrade Lieutenant Dushak," the commander had said. Times and tactics were changing with the arrival of the MiG-29.
The day before, they had been flying an air defense mission over Czechoslovakia when a NATO air strike was occurring to the north at the Mimon airfield. The GCI told them to remain patrolling their sector, that other regiments were covering Mimon. Kostenko had badgered Dushak to move the patrol circuit a bit farther north so that they might engage any stragglers coming into their sector. Realizing that this would complicate the patrol patterns of other flights, Dushak had told Kostenko to shut up and stay in formation with him. They had an uneventful flight. But wars are not won by uneventful flights.
Dushak could see that they had prepared the rest of the flight. Captain Vlasov's plane, with a blue "04" on the air intake, was at the head of the flight. Looking in his rearview mirrors, Dushak could see Kostenko's plane behind him. The flight was all set up in a nice little row. He was hoping they would get off the airfield fest before the damn NATO people figured out an operation was planned and bombed the hell out of the base again.
Milovice airfield had already been bombed at least seven times since the beginning of the war. The runway had been cratered badly, and ground crews had spent the whole night repairing the damage. The German Tornados that had struck the airfield early the previous morning had dropped several delayed-action bombs with the usual cratering load. They had to be meticulously removed before the runway was declared safe for operations. Fortunately, runway 2 had not been hit as badly, and would be used for this morning's operation. The NATO attacks had not put the runways permanently out of action, but they had raised havoc with the ground support. So much fueling and support equipment had been destroyed, and so many men killed, that they were lucky to get two sorties a day out of the field. Dushak listened for instructions from the control tower. He could see the sixteen aircraft of the Su-24 squadron already taking off. The MiG-29s were fester and would catch up. The Su-22 countermeasures aircraft were already airborne and waiting to join the Su-24 formation. They were intended mainly to protect the bombers, and flew in pattern with the sleeker Su-24s. The control tower finally told Shashka flight and Molot flight to begin taxiing to the runway approach. The runway was wide enough to accommodate two fighters at once, so they would take off in pairs in quick succession. Dushak had made certain that the engine intakes were set to the protective position. The MiG-29 has large doors that cover the main intake while the plane is on the ground and during takeoff, because the aircraft is so low slung that it risks sucking small debris off the runway. A pebble or other bit of junk, slamming into a jet engine turbine blade at high speed, would ruin a very expensive engine, and could lead to the loss of the plane. The air is drawn in through special intakes on top of the fuselage. Dushak admired the practicality of this design. In his old squadron, he had seen a MiG-23 eat some junk on takeoff and auger in shortly afterward due to engine feilure. It was a hell of a way for a well-trained pilot to die.
The runway approach widened, and Kostenko pulled his plane over to the right side of Dushak's MiG. Molot flight took off first, banking to the right to join the attack group. The first pair of Shashka flight took off, and Dushak almost lost sight of them in all the heat shimmer from their engine exhaust. Dushak and Kostenko trailed behind shortly after, the aircraft bouncing about badly due to all the air turbulence caused by the previous flights.
Takeoff was exhilarating, even in this crummy weather. The cloud cover was low, about 500 meters. The plan was to proceed to the Czech border over the clouds, at 2,000 meters, then drop back down on the deck to 500 meters when they reached Germany. The Shashka flight would stay a bit high and to the right, while Molot would be on the southern side and slightly to the rear. As his MiG entered the clouds, the sides of the cockpit became smeared by rain rashing over its surface. This lasted only moments, and the flight burst out of the clouds into a clear blue sky above. They had left the dreary world of Milovice airfield behind and were now in their own environment, skimming so close to the clouds that their aircraft cast shadows on them.
The Su-22 countermeasures planes stood out like a sore thumb. They were painted in the usual three-color camouflage scheme of tan, brown, and green. The Su-24s looked elegant as usual in a blue-gray finish with bright white underbellies. The MiGs were in dogfighter colors with a blend of two grays. But it occurred to Dushak that when they went back down on the deck, the Su-22s would blend in, and the MiGs would look out of place. Kostenko was trailing behind Dushak's aircraft about a hundred meters back, and off his right tail. He looked at the rearview mirrors and spotted him bouncing up and down a bit. The air seemed wonderfully clear, but there was a lot of turbulence at this altitude.
Dushak began looking down at the Syrena radar-warning panels. The MiG-29 has several panels and antennas at the front and rear of the aircraft to pick up hostile radar emissions. They are designed to warn if the aircraft is being illuminated by an enemy fighter's radar, or, worse yet, by the radar seeker in an AMRAAM missile, by little flashing lights that go off, and a loud buzz in the pilot's earphone. The problem with the radar warner is that it often goes off from stray reflected microwave energy. Over the battlefield, there are so many radar emitters that the Syrena is screaming every few minutes. It's like the story about the little boy who cried "wolf!" too often: After a while, the pilot begins to ignore it; some simply switch it off. The problem in all modern fighter planes is that there is just too much information for the pilot to sort out and absorb. One wag describes it as like trying to take a drink from a fire hydrant. At some point, it becomes vital to ignore all the spurious junk coming in over the electronic sensors and just concentrate on what is happening outside the airplane. It's stressful trying to decide when to ignore the black boxes and when to give them special attention.
Dushak noticed the lead flight beginning to dip into the clouds ahead of him. It was business time! At high combat speeds, it takes no time at all to cross two or three European borders. He