Battle Lines

Chapter 11: Thunder Struck

27 Apr 03: No. 6 SQN Det. HQ - RAF Framlingham

1000h

Cho surveyed the briefing room from her seat. In it were the pilots from Phoenix and Bolt Squadrons as well as a number of Muggles she didn't recognize. Among them were the crews that she had seen in the mess the night before. Sunnies still hadn't taken off his wraparounds. However the Muggles were dressed more casually than before. Like his friend Harry look-alike had a set of "aviator" sunglasses perched on his nose. Now that Cho looked closer he didn't look completely like Harry, just enough to startle people at first glance. The lights in the room dimmed and look-alike made his way to the front of the room.

'STAND FAST!'

The pilots in the room leapt to attention. The LAC that had called the stand fast saluted. Look-alike nodded his acknowledgement to the man, not returning the salute due to his lack of a hat.

'Thank you.' he said to the LAC, and then turned to the rest of the room. 'As you were, sit down, make yourselves comfortable.'

The screen behind his slowly flickered to life, showing the RAAF crest.

'Ladies and gents, welcome to Operation Deep Thunder,' he said, 'I am Squadron Leader Wade, you can call me "Wes". I assume you've already been briefed on what Deep Thunder is and for this small part of it you will be working with us. By us I mean Six Squadron from RAAF base Amberley in Australia. Six Squadron flies the F-111C strike bomber, otherwise known as the Pig. The Pig is the coolest, meanest and most ultra awesome aircraft ever invented...'

Wade obviously liked his bird and was quite happy to show it.

'...it has a combat radius of around three thousand nautical miles and can get there at mach two point two, that's over twice the speed of sound. Any questions on that?'

Sunnies raised a hand. 'You forgot to mention how good we are at blowing the shit out of stuff.'

Cho smiled, it was nice to know that she wasn't the only one who had to put up with smart arsed subordinates.

'Thank you. Kids, meet Flight Lieutenant Leece, otherwise know as "The Ferret". He's the XO for our little operation here.'

Wade looked around the room again. Behind him the screen switched to a satellite image of a compound. Parked around and in it were what Cho recognized as enemy Aerial Fortresses.

'For our mission today we will be assaulting a Fortress depot in Eastern France. Unlike our normal targets however this one is also home to a small squadron of enemy Heavy Fighters, hence why Command has given us our magical escort. Our targets are here...

A small red dot from Wade's laser pointer appeared on a cluster of buildings.

'...and here. They are the repair facility for the Forts, and the command facility. The idea is the force the Forts to another base where we can bomb them later. We would mount an arc light here, but the air defence is two tight to allow the B-52's in, hence it falls to us. Red Flight will be lead by Flight Lieutenant Ferret over there as Saber Three and I will be leading Blue Flight as Saber One. Ferret, you will be hitting the command bunker, we will be taking the repair facility.'

'Well thanks Wes, real great, give me the hard target why don't you?'

'But then when you get back to base you can take up all the glory, you should be thanking me; not grumbling about the "hard target".'

'You will die Wes.'

Wade turned back to the rest of the room. 'Ok, Bolt and Phoenix Squadrons...'

Cho was suddenly alert, this was her part of the mission.

'... you will be going in about five minutes before us. Your job is to take down what air defenses you can before we arrive, in particular the Fats. Bolt Squadron, you will be taking the ground to air. There is a SAS team in the area at the moment and they have placed infrared markers on the sites. You task should be simply find the markers and hit them hard, just be aware that the SAS may have missed one or two sites, so keep on your toes. Phoenix, you get the fun job. Keep the defenses busy while the Chimeras play "Death From Above". If the Heavy Fighters launch you are free to engage, however, we have tried to time this raid so that they won't be at home. When the Pigs get on target we kill the facility then all haul arse out of there together. Is that clear?'

'YES SIR!'

'Good, I will now hand you over to Intel so they can fill you in on all the nitty-gritty stuff.'

'STAND FAST!'

* * *

27 Apr 03: Tarmac - RAF Framlingham

2232h

Squadron Leader "Wes" Wade sat in the cockpit of his F-111C strike bomber. Beside him was his Nav, Flying Officer Tanya Masters. He ran through the last of his pre-startup procedures then turned to her.

'Ok kid, lets kick the tires and light the fires.'

'Hell yes sir.'

Wade pulled on his helmet, unlike a lot of RAAF helmets his was personalized, bright red with a two inch thick yellow stripe running down the centre. On the front was the silhouette of a Star Wars x-wing fighter and superimposed on it in blue, one word "WES". The Ferret had an identical helmet, except with black in the place on red and green in the place of yellow. On the front was a cartoon of a small enraged rodent with "FERRET" superimposed in gold. Wade connected up the mic and life support gear on the helmet, then stuck a gloved hand out the open cockpit hatch and gave a thumbs up to the ground crew. The diesel engine on the start cart chugged to life and began pumping compressed air into Pig's port turbine. The big TF-30 turbofan roared into life, idling along at a leisurely 30'000 rpm. Wade lifted the throttles up, cross-feeding air from the compressors into the starboard turbine and it too started to turn. The ground crew disconnected the start cart and moved away from the aircraft. Tanya was reading off the dials.

'N2 stable at sixty-eight percent; fuel flow looks good; hydraulics good oil pressure nominal; INS is set; TFR good; EPR one point two-five; looks like we're good to go sir.'

'Thank you.' replied Wade, then keyed his mic. 'Framlingham control, this is Saber One. Request departure on runway zero two right.'

Framlingham came back. 'Roger that Saber One, you are clear for departure, good luck sir.'

Wade grinned, then switched over to the strike group's frequency. 'Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Squadron Leader Wade and I will be your strike group leader for today. Please note that civil regulations have designated this a non-smoking mission, so please put out any cigarettes now. Those of you who are part of our magic program will be earning an extra hundred frequent flyer points today and as per usual the airsick bags are in the seat pocket in front of you. Once again welcome and thank you for flying Dark Lord Air.'

Another voice crackled across the radio. 'Hey, that's my job.'

'Hay is what horses eat Ferret.'

'Ha ha not.'

Wade lined up on the end of the strip. He reached forward and grabbed a lever just above his throttles, twisted it out and pushed forward. From behind came the whine of the wings swinging forward.

Tanya was talking again. 'Wings forward, sixteen degree sweep; flaps down two thirds; auxiliary intakes open, lets rock.'

She reached out and dogged her canopy shut; Wade did the same then closed his oxygen mask over his face. He could hear Tanya's breathing in his ears. Applying the toe brakes Wade pushed the throttles forward to full military power.

'Hey, Tanya.'

'Yeah.'

'Pull my finger.'

With that he released the brakes and rammed the throttles through the gate. The F-111's crew was pushed back into their seats as all seven stages of afterburner lit at once. The engines roared spouting twin tails of flame propelling over 80'000 lbs of aircraft, fuel and bombs down the strip.

Tanya sat in the Nav seat, calmly reading off the airspeed.

'V1. One five-five knots Vr, rotate. V2. V2 plus thirty, flaps up...'

'YEEE HAAA!'

* * *

27 Apr 03 - 30'000 feet up

2245h

Natalie Boone sat in the back of the C-130J transport plane, broomstick across her lap and helmet on. They had already been airborne for an hour and a half. The Herc cruised along at a stately three hundred and thirty knots. The F-111s, traveling at just above the speed of sound, would catch up easily and be on target shortly after the pilots of Phoenix Squadron. In front of her, taking up one side of the plane's cargo bay, was a catapult. It had been decided that it would be too much to ask of the pilots to fly their broomsticks for just over two hours, perform on target then fly back to base. Instead they were being transported out to just outside the engagement zone and were going to launch directly from the aircraft, in flight. The catapult was to make sure that they were going forward relative to the air when they launched. Phannan came over and sat down in the webbing beside her and plugged back into the intercom.

'How're you feeling.'

Nat turned to him. 'Not bad, bit nervous. I mean, we've never done a strike mission before.'

'True.'

The voice of the Herc's pilot cut through their conversation. 'Heads up people, half an hour to target, ready for launch. Remember, when you get out there, radio silence.'

There was a whine from above her as the pilot lowered the Herc's flaps, they were slowing right down to make the launch easier. Nat saw Cho get up and move toward the catapult. The Loadmaster locked her and the broom into the apparatus and gave her a thumbs up, oxygen mask obscuring his face. He then moved toward the wall and grabbed the levers there, then thrust one up and one down.

Whirrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Wind rushed in as the rear loading ramp split horizontally, one half lowering and the other raising up into the fuselage roof. The whirring stopped and the ramp locked into position. The Loadie gave Cho a final thumbs up and the Squadron Leader returned it. Then leant forward, holding the grips like her life depended on it and wedging her feet against the foot bars. The lights in the cargo bay went from amber to green, the Loadie slapped a button and Cho was fired out the rear end of the aircraft.

'No way.' Nat heard Phannan mutter over the plane's intercom. 'No fucking way.'

* * *

Oliver Wood watched as Phoenix Squadron emerged from the Herc and formed up below and behind the Bolts. When the last broomstick emerged the rear doors closed and the big transport banked into a lumbering turn, back toward where it would hold and wait to pick up the pilots after their mission. Alicia's voice broke through the intercom.

'Five minutes to target, descend to ten thousand feet.'

Oliver set the gunship into a steep descent, around him the darker shadows that were his squadron followed.

Four minutes later and twenty thousand feet lower Alicia spoke again. 'One minute, weapons hot, going hot mics.'

Suddenly Oliver could hear her breath in his ears.

'Thirty seconds.'

Oliver looked at the rest of the Squadron, he could see them clearly; bomber's moon.

'Ten seconds, pinging markers, accelerate to attack speed.'

Oliver pushed his throttle to full power while Alicia sent out the pulse that would activate the infrared markers at the ground to air defence sites. Suddenly bright patches of light appeared in his HUD, generated by computer, the markers were lit. Oliver rolled inverted, bearing down on a patch of light. Oliver centered it in his cross-hairs, then squeezed his trigger.

WHOOOSH

Two seventy millimetre rockets roared out of the pods under the gunship's wings leaving bright afterimages in Oliver's eyes. He leveled out, just above the treetops and stood the Chimera on its wingtip. Behind him Alicia was talking again.

'This is Bolt Lead; we are on target and engaged! I repeat; we are on target and engaged!'

Tracers from heavy machine guns lanced up into the sky. There was a roar from behind him as Alicia returned fire, magical energy streaming from her cannons. Oliver pulled up and rolled over, bearing down on another emplacement. He stroked the trigger losing two more rockets.

KABOOM!

The high explosive rockets hit home blowing the emplacement to smithereens. Wood looked around, something wasn't right. He glanced at the base.

All the Forts are still here. Oh Shit.

There they were, boiling out of their launch tunnels, not Fats, but two full squadrons of Lankies.

* * *

Nat Boone also saw the enemy broomsticks accelerating out of the tunnels.

'Hang on Twelve, this is going to get interesting.'

She roared out over the base, straight toward the launch tubes. Enemy fire flashed past her, lighting up the night. She jammed down the trigger. Magical energy erupted from her broom's tip. One shot struck home, vaporizing its victim. Then she was past.

'Down below the buildings!'

Nat dropped down into a roadway running between buildings on the base.

The only good thing about these odds is that they have to be more careful about who they're shooting at.

The ground in front of her exploded as enemy fire slammed into it. Nat soared out of the artificial canyon rolling through two hundred and seventy degrees and pulled away. Tracers from machine guns tracked her path through the sky.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!

Flak shells burst above her head.

That was it.

Nat was on the comm. 'All units, stay low, the flak can't hit you low down!'

She pulled onto the tail of another Death Eater, sending fire his way. One of her shots clipped the broom and the enemy went tumbling into the ground. More fire assailed her from behind.

'CRAP!'

Common Wes, we can't keep this up for ever.

* * *

Squadron Leader Wade wasn't far away at all. The F-111 thundered along at just under the speed of sound, a bare two hundred feet above the ground, Terrain Following Radar keeping it at from spreading itself across the landscape.

'Thirty seconds to target.' said Tanya calmly. 'Pave Tack active, you're pickle is hot.'

'Oh I know it is kid.'

Tanya didn't pay him any attention; she was concentrating hard on the small black and white TV screen in front of her, ready to place the laser dot from the Pave Tack pod on the target as soon as it came into sight.

'Fifteen seconds to target, kill the autopilot.'

Wade felt the controls quiver as the big bomber came back under his control.

'Ten seconds.'

'Five seconds! Lofting!'

The F-111 thundered out over the enemy base. Immediately Wade's Radar Warning Receiver started blaring. Tanya worked frantically laying the laser dot that would "paint" the target.

'Target's painted!'

Wade flicked open the cover and pressed the button releasing the bombs. Suddenly relived of its payload the aircraft surged forward.

'Bombs gone, let haul arse out of here!'

KABOOM!

The four Mk-82's hit the ground and 8'000 lbs of high explosive was suddenly turned into expanding vapor, taking everything near it along for the ride.

'Yeah! That's a shack for Saber One!'

The RWR took on a more frantic note.

'Shit!' screamed Tanya. 'Multiple missile launches, heat and radar.'

'Countermeasures! Fuck that! We're doing this the old fashioned way! Hang on!'

With that Wade slammed the throttles through the gate and jammed the stick hard right rolling the aircraft through one hundred and forty-five degrees then pulled, holding down the switch that disengaged the TFR and LARA. Suddenly, the cockpit was lit up like a Christmas tree by warning lights. More alarms sounded; stall warning, airframe overload, TFR and LARA contact loss, terrain warning. The big bomber lumbered into the old escape maneuver, dumping flares and chaff. Tanya slammed on the EW pod mounted on and outboard pylon while Wade wrestled with the controls, desperately trying to loose the pursuing missiles.

One got through. A single stolen US made "stinger" shoulder launched warhead.

It exploded right underneath the Pig's wing. Shrapnel punctured the steel of the airframe and entered the turbine. Wade felt the aircraft lurch under the impact.

'We're hit!'

'No shit Sherlock!'

A new alarm joined the chorus in the cockpit.

Tanya glanced at the engine gauges. 'Engine fire, portside turbine.'

The frantic note was gone; her voice was now that of a professional doing her job.

When Wade spoke it was the same tone. 'Roger, shutting down portside turbine.'

With that he pulled back the power on both engines, then drew the lever corresponding to the port engine right back. He then hit the switch activating the extinguishers.

Tanya was on the radio. 'All units this is Saber One. We have hit the target but have been winged. Return to base, I repeat, all units lets haul arse out of here.'

The red light indicating and engine fire winked out.

The voice of Flight Lieutenant Leece broke through the radio. 'Howdy Wes, see you've managed to get yourself shot again. We've hit our target, so we could give you an escort back to base.'

Wade grimaced. 'Shut up Ferret, just because you came in second and they had used up all their missiles on me.'

'Hey, you should be thanking me dude, you can take all the glory when we get back to base. Remember, chicks dig scars.'

'You're gonna pay for that, no fair using my own calls against me.'

'Do you want that escort or not?'

'Yes, we'll take the escort. Then you can buy us drinks when we get back to base.'

'Not for you Wes, maybe for your Nav, she's prettier.'

* * *

Cho heard the call. She sent another burst of fire toward her enemy, then pulled away.

'Ok kids, you heard the lady, lets get out of here.'

'Haul arse ma'am.'

'Thank you Mr Weasley.'

Cho turned in the general direction of their transport and made, as it has been so elegantly put by on of the Muggle pilots "like a thousand startled gazelles on heat", toward it. She sat low on the stick, hugging the tree tops, the offensive part of the mission may have been over, but the unspoken order still remained, escape, evade, stay alive. The Chimeras were already making a beeline for safety, blasting away at the grounded Forts with their turrets and the last of their rockets and generally causing as much damage as humanly possible. The enemy didn't really seem that interested in pursuit, they would be on the ground trying to salvage what they could.

After five minutes of flying the red dots on Cho's sensors had all but disappeared. She felt it would be safe to climb a bit higher.

'Ok, we're clear. Phoenix Squadron report in.'

'Phoenix Two, minor bruises, nothing major.'

'Phoenix Three, all systems nominal.'

'Phoenix Four, I'm cool.'

'Phoenix Five, Two Flight is clear.'

'Phoenix Nine, Three Flight is good. Can we do that again? Please?'

Cho smiled, that last one had to be Fred. Obviously he had liked being able to hit back at those who had been making his life so difficult for the past month. Cho was just a little pleased about it herself.

'Ok people, rendezvous back with the C-130. Then we head home.'

She then switched over to the frequency reserved for transmissions to their transport.

'Cowboy Two-Niner, this is Phoenix Lead. Request your position for docking.'

'Phoenix Lead this is Cowboy Two-Niner, we are lighting our IFF beacon now.'

'Roger that Cowboy Two-Niner, Phoenix Lead out.'

On Cho's board a bright green dot suddenly illuminated. She tagged it for escort then went back to the Squadron frequency.

'Ok Phoenix, the approach is lit, let's head for our pickup.'

* * *

28 Apr 04: Tarmac - RAF Framlingham

0230h

Natalie stepped wearily from the rear ramp of the C-130. The docking with the transport had gone smoothly, so had the one and a half hour journey home. Now she was just looking forward to falling into bed.

Phannan exited and stood beside her. 'Ouch, feeling stiff.'

Nat took another look around the tarmac, C-130s, Tornadoes, Jaguars and a distinct lack of F-111s.

'Umm, where are the Pigs.'

There was a roar of jet engines from behind them.

'Ah,' said Phannan, 'that must be them now.'

Samantha walked up beside them. 'Why are they so late?'

Across from them, on the other side of the strip a new set of landing lights blazed to life.

Nat looked quizzically in they're direction for a moment, then. 'Something seem weird to you?'

'No. Like?'

'There's no engine noise from that direction.'

'Oh.'

* * *

28 Apr 04: East Air corridor - RAF Framlingham controlled zone.

0228h

Tanya sat watching the engine gauges carefully.

'How're we looking kid?'

Tanya didn't even look up. 'Should be fine sir.'

Wade nodded. 'Good, we're almost there.'

He clipped his mask over his face, then got on the radio.

'Framlingham Control, this is Saber One, request priority landing clearance. We have taken damage and have suffered a flameout on the portside engine.'

'Roger that Saber One, you are clear to land, emergency crews are standing by.'

'Thank you Framlingham, Saber One out.'

Wade brought the crippled bomber onto the downwind leg of the circuit and dropped the gear, leaving Tanya to watch the gauges.

'Uh, sir.' Tanya's voice had "bad news" written all over it. 'The oil pressure just dropped through the floor. I think something else just fell off.'

'That is so not a good thing.'

There was a protesting squeal from the one remaining turbine as the bearings were drained of their life sustaining oil.

Tanya spoke again. 'Temp on starboard just sky rocketed, N2 is dropping.'

Wade cut back to professional mode. 'Right get on the blower, I'm shutting it down.'

Tanya didn't need telling twice. She couldn't remember the correct procedure for this sort of call and was dammed if she was going to find a manual to check it now.

'Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. This is Saber One...'

'Saber One, this is Framlingham Control...'

'This is Saber One, we are dead stick, I repeat we are dead stick. We have flameout on both turbines. Clear the area, we're coming in now.'

She didn't bother to wait for Framlingham's reply but turned her attention back to the aircraft. She reached forward and flicked a switch dropping a small impeller out of the underside of the aircraft to generate power. The roar of the engine died. All that was left was the eerie whistling of the wind.

Wade now had all his attention on the aircraft.

Ok, it's just a big heavy glider, you can do this. FUCK I don't even believe myself!

He banked the aircraft over and fed in rudder, flying smooth to keep his airspeed up.

'Beginning base leg turn, flaps one third.'

Tanya was already there. 'Flaps one third.'

Keep the drag down, airspeed up till the last moment.

'Coming onto approach, gear down.'

'Gear down and,' Tanya hesitated, 'not locked.'

'What!' If the gear didn't lock down there was a good chance it would collapse on landing.

'The gear is down but it hasn't locked.'

'Too late to try again now. Tanya, call off the airspeed.'

'One sixty KIAS.'

Shit, too fast.

'Flaps full.'

'Flaps full. One fifty.'

'One forty. We're over the fence.'

Wade watched the altitude drop.

'One twenty.'

One twenty knots; too slow. Twenty feet. Flare, FLARE, FLARE!

BEEEEE!

Oh fuck.

KABAM! Screeeeee.

The Pig stalled and hit the deck descending at nearly one thousand feet per minute. However, at just over its dry weight the plane's long travel suspension had no trouble absorbing the impact. Wade stamped on the toe brakes, slowing the plane. It thundered down the strip, shedding speed as it went. Slowly the airspeed crept down to zero and the plane rolled to a halt. Wade let out a sigh of relief. In front of him the undercarriage indicator flicked to green, showing the gear was down and locked

'Well, great, now it decides to tell us.'

'Yep, and I only feel slightly shorter after having my spine crushed in that landing.'

'Oh shut up, you sound like you've been taking lessons from the Ferret.'

Wade popped the canopy; in the distance he could hear sirens as emergency crews rushed to meet them.