With assistance from the ship’s crew, Jacques, Louise and Herman assembled the drone on the launch rails under a large tarpaulin. The landing gear had been removed since this aircraft was not intended to land, and a self-immolation capability had been added. The crash inspectors would not be able to determine the manufacturer of this unit. Once the drone successfully hit its target, it would incinerate whatever was left to a pile of plastic/metallic ash. If the mission went awry for any reason, Herman would hit the incinerate button.
Ian conducted another rigorous detailed pre-flight of his aircraft. He included a radio patch, which would allow Desiree to overhear the cockpit conversation, and add any intel she gained during the flight. She was set up to monitor the North and South Korean airspace controllers who would have firsthand knowledge of the drone’s incursions into their airspaces. Of course, the North and South Korea airspace controllers weren’t informed about her eavesdropping ability.
Ian’s training as a Navy Seal had notched up his mental and physical desire for preparedness to an almost anal-retentive level. The tension created by waiting for direction to dive into action was something Ian had dealt with since he had left home on his pilgrimage to Jerusalem, but he still grew impatient with hurry up and wait. He recalled the old joke about the two buzzards sitting in a tree. One turns to the other and says, patience my tail feathers, I want to go out and kill something. This mission with its unknowns, and short time window, was reason for concern. He would be in an aerial battle against the best pilot who ever lived, in an effort to save the lives of perhaps hundreds, if not thousands, of South Koreans.
Ian always felt more comfortable battling an evil adversary when he used his extensive hand-to-hand combat skills, rather than as an aircraft pilot, ship’s captain, or tank commander. He knew every one-on-one fighting style man had devised: Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Karate, boxing, wrestling, and so forth. Plus, he was an expert with all manner of weaponry: the sword, the bow and arrow, rocket launcher, any rifle, hand gun, etc. He could adapt to any adversary’s style of fighting and defeat him, or her, in short order. He was not proud of having had to kill many men and women warriors over the centuries, but in each and every case of good versus evil, he had no choice.
The pilot who had flown the F-4 to South Korea with Ian serving as RIO couldn’t sit around and wait any longer. He caught a hop back to the Philippines.
Serena returned from her third P-3 flight, so Ian and Serena decided to pay a visit to the Osan flight commander.
The Flight Commander, Lieutenant Colonel Harrington, was doing paperwork and muttering under his breath. This did not look like a good time to disturb him.
When Ian and Serena approached his desk, Harrington looked up at them over the top rim of his glasses, and in an impatient voice, asked, “Yes, what can I do for you Miss Jones, Senior Chief Smith, or whatever your real names are?” An unlit Cuban cigar hung from his lips. He chewed on the end anticipating more irritating requests from his visitors.
“As you probably know Lieutenant Ames, the pilot who brought me here had to return to the Philippines, so I would like to use Miss Jones as my RIO.”
“I was considering finding another pilot to act as your RIO. Having Miss Jones serve as your RIO would be highly irregular. Although you two don’t seem to care about anything regular.”
“We’re a highly irregular team. Respectfully, the pilots under your command are only qualified to fly A10 Warthogs and P-3s, sir.”
“I’m well aware of the situation.” Lieutenant Colonel Harrington replied with a surly edge. “Miss Jones is not qualified to serve as a RIO, either.”
“Beg your pardon, sir, but she is under another name.”
“The Lieutenant Colonel’s unlit cigar dropped from his lips and fell to his desk. “Why didn’t I see that coming?” Embarrassed, he placed the cigar back into his mouth. “I’m trying to quit,” Harrington explained, rather than apologizing for the unlit cigar.
Ian continued, “We don’t anticipate aerial combat with our target. We only intend to shoot down a drone, a very dangerous drone on a one-way attack. It has no fighting capability we are aware of, but is carrying a dangerous virus or chemical. The danger is not shooting it down before it hits a populated target, rather than aerial combat.”
Staring Ian in the eyes, Harrington replied, “Bring me something that at least looks official and you can take Miss Jones as your RIO. Any paper to cover my ass. Got it!”
“Yes, sir,” Ian saluted Harrington, and turned to leave.
Harrington stood, and said, “Hold on, I have three requests for you.”
“We’ll do whatever we can. What are they?”
“Tell whoever you two work for that I gave you all the assistance you asked for when this is all over, and make sure you shoot down that drone.”
“That’s only two things.”
“I know. The third thing is that you go do your job without any dustups, and let me get back to whatever is normal around here when you’re gone.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Ian saluted the Lieutenant Colonel again, and he and Serena turned to leave again. As they departed Harrington’s office they heard Harrington mumble, “Damned CIA, or whatever, spies.”
They paid a visit to the pilot’s equipment room where Serena selected a size medium helmet and oxygen mask. She already had her own flight suit.
Ian said, “Let’s go to the bird and have the enlisted plane captain power her up, so you can familiarize yourself with the radar and radio equipment. I want you to function as a real RIO for me on this flight. Ian smiled at being able to demonstrate his prowess as a fighter pilot to Serena, but beyond that he enjoyed being in her company, especially when they worked together as a two-person team. Ian trusted her with his life, besides, without her, life would not be the same.
Thirty Three
The witching hour was at hand. Solid cloud cover had effectively blocked any Key Hole satellite imaging of their clandestine activities, and satellite coverage would be nil for approximately 20 minutes. Herman and Jacques had installed the drone’s control antenna at the top of the freighter’s smoke stack while Louise conducted the aircraft preflight. The three would be terrorists pulled the tarpaulin off the drone at 2:50 A.M., then ran down to the operations center they had set up in the cramped smelly store room on the freighter. One of the ship’s crew was tasked to replace the tarp over the launch rails, once the drone was airborne.
All systems were ‘go’. The two-hundred-mile flight path from the ship to Wonsan, North Korea, to the 38th Parallel, across the demilitarized zone, past Panmunjom, and on to Seoul, Korea would all be under Jacques’ control. Herman would control the turning ‘on’ of the stealth mode when necessary, that is from the ship to Wonsan, then at any other time the drone might be under attack. Louise would shadow Jacques’ piloting and take over if necessary. Herman would man the drone’s radar for bogey’s, and be prepared to initiate the self-immolation mode, if warranted during the flight, and at the end of the mission to eliminate the evidence.
Jacques fired up the drone’s engine, set the VTOL to ten degrees off vertical, checked all the systems for ‘go’ conditions again, and applied power gradually until the drone’s weight versus thrust was on parity. He quickly advanced the thrust, and at two thirds power released the solenoid controlled clamps holding the craft to its launch rails, while advancing the thrust to full power, sending the drone ‘whooshing’ down the rails, off the freighter, and leaping up into the night sky.
Jacques found the gloves’ hand and finger sensors to be smoothly responsive to his every control movement. He leveled the aircraft off at 100 feet above sea level on a direct course to Wonsan without any difficulty. He knew Louise and Herman were watching his every move like hawks. The only way anyone would have an inkling of the aircraft’s flight to the coast, would be if it flew directly over a fishing boat, but then with the whisper jet silencing technology incorporated into the engine, and engine cowling, the fishermen
might not even hear the drone’s engine over the racket of their own vessel.
All of the equipment, the launch mount, the control antenna, the control consoles, everything would be demolished and tossed overboard during the next satellite blackout after the mission was complete, and the yacht and the freighter would maneuver so that Jacques, Louise and Herman could make a clandestine return to the yacht via a RHIB transfer.
Ian and Serena had gone over all her RIO duties twice. “Well, Serena, do you feel ready to go?”
“As ready as I ever will be.”
“Good.”
“White Rabbit, do you read?” the aircraft controller’s voice came over the radio.
“Loud and clear, Race Track.”
Desiree’s voice came over the radio, loud and clear, “There is chatter from the North indicating there is an unknown aircraft in their airspace approaching Wonsan.”
“We’ll be airborne in five minutes. Pass intercept coordinates on this channel. Plane captain, can you hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Pull ground power. We’re takin’ off.”
“Tower, do we have clearance for taxi?” Serena inquired on the ground control channel.
“Cleared for taxi.”
Ian increased the throttle and taxied the F-4 to the end of the runway, and heard “Cleared for takeoff,” before he had pulled into position at the end of the runway. He aligned the plane with the runway, pushed the throttle full forward and the jet engine thrust pressed him back into the seat. The aircraft roared down the runway and hungrily grabbed the night sky like an eagle snatching an airborne mallard. Even though the F-4 Phantom had been completely phased out of normal Navy and Air Force operations, it was still many career pilots’ favorite aircraft. Every time Ian flew an F-4, it was obvious to him why.
Desiree passed new coordinates to Serena who modified their desired altitude, speed and course to intercept the drone.
Jacques knew if he flew the drone from the observed point of origin in North Korea where the stealth mechanism was turned ‘off’ all the way to the intended government building in Seoul they had less than a 50% chance of reaching the target. Part of Herman’s job was to determine at which point, or points, along the way to invoke the stealth mode and guarantee success. It was imperative to operate without stealth long enough to establish the drone originated from North Korea and attacked South Korea. Jacques’ responsibility was to fly a successful mission using whatever flight skills were required.
The planned flight path from Wonsan to Seoul was almost due south, the shortest possible route. Any aircraft not already in the air and attempting to intercept the drone would probably not be able to stop it. Jacques hoped Ian was his usual resourceful self, and was already in pursuit, and if not Ian, then one of the ever present South Korean, or American, patrol aircraft would be able to intercept the drone and take it down.
To impress Louise and Herman, and ultimately the Baron, Jacques would have to demonstrate a valiant effort to get the drone to its target even if the mission did fail. As the craft had no defensive, or offensive, weapons except for its deadly payload, he would have to dazzle any adversary with brilliant flight maneuvers.
The drone would pass through the demilitarized zone in a few minutes. There were anti-aircraft missiles in place on the borders of each side of the zone. Ground observers directly beneath the aircraft’s flight path might note the airflow ‘whoosh’ and the buzzing like a bumblebee as the drone passed overhead. The heat seeking missiles would be stymied by the variable intake air duct configuration, and the extended, and muffled, variable exhaust duct, which Louise adjusted to optimize the craft’s speed, while minimizing the craft’s noise and heat emissions.
Jacques maneuvered the craft through the DMZ, sidestepping the anti-aircraft positions at a ground hugging altitude of 500 feet. His avoidance maneuvers resulted in the craft emerging on the southern border of the DMZ about sixty miles east of Seoul.
Jacques hoped his non-direct flight would not be questioned. He had to buy time for someone, anyone, to intercept the drone. It appeared he was going to actually strike the target and complete a successful mission. It would take a miracle to stop him now. Louise was at his elbow. He couldn’t sabotage the mission without her knowing he did it intentionally, and destroying his cover.
Herman hovered over him and said, “We’ve established the drone’s origin in North Korea, and its intended threat to Seoul, so I’m going to stealth mode for the last few miles to insure our success.
“White Rabbit,” Desiree called Ian from the NSA in Fort George Meade over the F-4’s radio, through a patch established at the air base. The patch eliminated the time that would have been wasted by having Desiree call Ian’s flight controller and having the controller relay the information.
“White Rabbit, go ahead.”
“North Korea tracked the target entering the DMZ, it’s approximately 50 miles north-north -east of your position.”
“Roger that,” Ian adjusted his heading to intercept, using Desiree’s real time track update. He searched the sky, but was not able to spot the drone.
“I’m going to try something,” Serena said over the intercom. She removed her flight helmet and put on her night and heat vision goggles. She scanned the night sky for any sign of the drone. “Hah!” she exclaimed, “I’ve got it. Turn to your one o’clock.”
Ian made a slight turn to his right, searched the sky, and said, “I don’t see anything.”
“I have a small blip on my radar, but I see a hot patch dead ahead with my heat sensors, and some reflected moon light with the night vision sensors about two miles distant, flying 500 feet above the ground.”
“How far are we from Seoul?” Ian asked, following Serena’s lead.
“Less than 50 miles, so we have to knock the target down on our first go.”
From Louise’ and Herman’s perspective, they had established the drone’s origin in North Korea and its trajectory into South Korea had probably already been recorded in a dozen places. They wanted to play it safe with the stealth mode, thereby insuring the mission’s success. Herman turned the stealth mode back ‘on.’ Once the drone dispersed the deadly Sarin and struck the target, he would switch on the self-destruct mode and fry the craft to a cinder, and in turn burn down the government building.
Although Jacques hated his participation in this terrorist attack, he had to conduct a perfect flight. Louise would pull the flight recorder from the control console and take it back to the Baron for analysis. A perfect flight on his part would garner him great favor with the Baron, but at great price to South Korea. He felt deep sorrow for those unfortunate souls in Seoul. Why hadn’t Ian ridden in on Tonnerre Noir swinging his scimitar to save the day?
“What do I do now?” Ian asked Serena.
“I only get intermittent glimpses of the target with these heat and night vision goggles, but I think it’s at your two o’clock at 500 feet above the ground. I’ll vector you in for the kill.”
“Merde!” Louise exclaimed. “Someone is on the attack. Herman, rotate the dome camera and tell me if you see a fighter aircraft closing in.” Louise, Herman and Jacques all saw an F-4 closing in on the drone.
Herman hovered over Jacques, and said, “The fighter pilot probably doesn’t even know we’re here.”
“Jacques, evade!” Louise barked into the intercom.
Jacques had to suppress the relief he felt when he saw the jet closing in on the camera image. He rotated the craft to the right and took it through a barrel roll to throw off the pursuer. He had told Ian the story about how he had shot down the Me-262 jet during World War II multiple times. He hoped the pilot was Ian, and Ian would remember Jacques’ WW II maneuvers against the Nazi jet, and use them to take down the drone.
“This pilot must have stumbled on us. He might have been able to down us if we were visible, but he doesn’t have a chance in stealth mode,” Herman said for Louise’ and Jacques’ benefit.
Ian anticipated Jacques’ right turn and barrel roll, and knew he would jog left when he came out of the roll and Ian intended to be there waiting for him. If he failed, he hoped Jacques would give him another chance.
“I can shake this guy easy. I’ll give him some maneuvers he won’t be able to follow as we mosey on to our target,” Jacques blustered for Louise’ benefit.
“Do it,” said Louise. “We’re almost there.”
Herman hovered over Louise, as he rotated the camera in a semi-successful attempt to keep the F-4 in view.
Ian was not able to gain position during Jacques first barrel roll-left turn maneuver, but anticipated the second maneuver. They were only thirty miles from Seoul, and the population density below them was increasing. Ian wanted to minimize the collateral damage of falling aircraft parts as much as possible. He had to knock the target down within the next few minutes.
“Slow down to near stall speed, and prepare to fire on the target when it reaches the bottom of its loop,” Serena shouted over the intercom.
“I think Jacques will dodge left when he reaches bottom. I’m ready.”
The camera had lost the pursuer while Jacques performed another roll, then jogged left at the bottom of the roll. The pursuer was there waiting almost like he was reading Jacques’ mind. It had to be Ian in the jet. Jacques pulled the stick all the way back to go into another steep climb, but the jet fired all its cannons, striking the drone multiple times, ripping off the rudder, and damaging the left elevator. Jacques struggled with the ailerons and elevators to try to regain control of the aircraft, but it fell into a spin.
The Noble Mercenary Page 28
