Just when Jacques was convinced he would very soon be able to tell his father in person he wished he had taken his advice, the AIM-120C lost its lock and flew off. Had SPECTRA successfully spoofed it? Had it locked onto some other unlucky plane?
Jacques didn’t care. While he had been busy trying to stay alive, the RSAF and QEAF jets had continued flying towards each other, and now he was going to experience what an American pilot had told him was called a
“furball.” He’d said they’d been rare since Vietnam, since missiles had usually settled matters before planes could get close enough for the two key elements to kick in — confusion, and multiple airplanes within cannon range.
The 30 mm GIAT 30M 791 cannon in the Rafale was one Jacques had used several times in exercises, and his score in those had been quite good.
He had also insisted that his students take their training with the GIAT seriously, though he had privately agreed with the ones who grumbled that they’d never use them in combat.
Now he was using his GIAT against an F-15 that his instruments told him was an RSAF plane. Jacques hoped it was true, because though he was close enough to target the jet, he certainly couldn’t see its insignia. Smoke started to pour from the F-15, and he saw the pilot eject as the jet began to tumble towards the desert below.
As soon as he’d survived his encounter with the AIM-120C Jacques had looked for his wingman but hadn’t been able to find him. In the madness of dozens of aircraft firing guns and missiles at each other he hoped Mansour had survived, because at the moment everything was moving too fast for anyone to do more than that.
Just as he had that thought, Jacques watched in horror as two jets slammed into each other and disappeared in a cloud of exploding fuel and ammunition.
He joined every other plane nearby in veering off, since the metal debris from the explosion would spell the end for anyone unfortunate enough to suck pieces into their engines.
Each Rafale pilot had been given the option of which missiles to include with their two Meteors, and Jacques had gone with the MICA IR. Capable of lock-on after launch (LOAL), it meant Jacques didn’t have to wait to fire, making it perfect for the chaotic conditions around him. Even better was that while at least one was on his plane the MICA IR provided infrared imagery to his attack computer, acting as an extra sensor.
Now Jacques saw that an RSAF Typhoon was within MICA IR range, and without waiting for a lock fired. One reason Jacques had decided to use an IR missile rather than radar-homing was that many fighters lacked the ability to detect they were under IR attack. Only the UK, for example, had equipped its Typhoons with a laser warning receiver.
That’s the reason Jacques had picked the Typhoon as a target for his MICA IR.
As it flew closer to the Typhoon Jacques was able to lock the missile on target, and in less than a minute it had detonated near its right engine. Jacques wasn’t sure, but he thought it had been a proximity detonation of the missile’s twelve-kilogram warhead rather than a direct impact hit, since in spite of smoke and flame the Typhoon’s wing appeared intact.
Its pilot, however, apparently concluded that it was best not to wait for further explosions and ejected.
Jacques didn’t have time to waste on self-congratulations, though, as the edge of his scope lit up with dozens of new contacts.
So far, the QEAF had faced Typhoons from King Fahd Air Base and F-15s from No. 55 Squadron, which had been recently transferred to Prince Sultan Air Base. Now joining the battle from King Abdulaziz Air Base near Dhahran were Panavia Tornados from the No. 7 Squadron and F-15s from the No. 13 and No. 92 Squadrons.
The RSAF had the distinction of being not only the sole air force in the world to ever fly the Tornado outside the three-country partnership that had produced it (Germany, the United Kingdom and Italy), it was also the only country that still had it in service. The UK, for instance, retired the Tornado F3 air defense model in 2011 and the Tornado GR4 ground attack model in 2019, replacing both with the Typhoon.
The bad news for the QEAF was that these Tornados had been updated to the latest GR4 model by the British and carried the ASRAAM. Developed by the British as a replacement for the AIM-9 Sidewinder, it flew at Mach 3 at a range of up to fifty kilometers. The F-15s were already firing AIM-120Cs at Jacques and the other surviving jets of the QEAF.
With all his attention focused on survival, Jacques had only a dim awareness that so far casualties suffered on both sides had been fairly even, or thanks to the Meteor salvos maybe even slightly in the QEAF’s favor.
Over half of the aircraft on both sides of the engagement had either been shot down, or in a few cases managed to limp damaged back to base. Prince Bilal’s surviving Leopard tanks were back on the highway to Riyadh, and were about to face Prince Ali’s M1A2 tanks.
The QEAF had accomplished its mission. It had given its armored forces the chance to reach Riyadh.
But with the appearance of three fresh RSAF squadrons, there was no doubt that today would mark the end of the QEAF as a coherent fighting force, even if a handful of planes were able to make it back to base in Doha.
Jacques managed to score one more victory with his last MICA IR that must have been an impact rather than a proximity hit against the RSAF
Tornado, because this one exploded so violently he had to sheer off immediately to avoid damage from its debris.
While he was doing that, another AIM-120C found him. Jacques had no time to even attempt either evasion or ejection.
But, Jacques had fulfilled his dream of flying the Rafale in combat. And his few surviving fellow pilots would agree, he had done so well.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Grand Ayatollah Sayyid Vahid Turani was trying, and failing, to imagine a less receptive audience than the men before him at the Assembly of Experts.
They had been forced into cramped and uncomfortable quarters in the name of security, told nothing after that, and then rousted out of bed in the middle of the night — again in the name of security.
Vahid had already decided to get straight to the point. “The Supreme Leader has been murdered by the Pasdaran, on the orders of Acting Supreme Leader Reza Fagheh. He has also launched an attack on Saudi Arabia without any authorization using Pasdaran forces allied with Qatar’s military, using both nuclear weapons and chemical agents.”
“Where is your proof?” an Ayatollah shouted from the back. Vahid nodded as he recognized one of Reza’s allies.
“Play the first video,” Vahid said to a nearby technician.
The recording filled the large screen in front of the Assembly hall taken by Roya Maziar of the Supreme Leader being shot by a man in Pasdaran uniform.
Into the shocked silence that followed, Vahid said, “The nurse who made this recording with her cell phone is available to confirm its authenticity. Ask yourself this question- who stood to gain from the Supreme Leader’s death, especially with all of you confined for supposed security reasons?”
Another Ayatollah shouted from the back, “Where is the proof Grand Ayatollah Fagheh approved the use of chemical weapons against the Saudis?”
Vahid smiled grimly as he recognized another of Reza’s allies.
“Play the second video,” Vahid said to the technician.
The next video showed a gruesome closeup of a victim of a missile’s premature explosion with a VX warhead in Yemen, due to a Saudi tank shell.
The voiceover explained that the Houthis sent to discover what had happened to the missile died themselves not long after taking the footage.
The next view was shot by a drone over the site of the explosion, showing multiple contorted bodies far away from the blast site.