Fire in the Sky

Like Clockwork

The sun shone so brightly that he could barely see even with the UV protector slid down over his helmet. Lieutenant Richard Dawes was in the cockpit of an F-14 Tomcat on February 16th 1990. Dawes was the leader of Gunfighter flight, a group of three F-14s scrambled off the deck of the USS George Washington. A nuclear submarine had been sunk in international waters twenty minutes earlier, and the entire U.S. Military was on DEFCON two (Military alert status. DEFCON one is the highest level, troops in combat). Dawes and the rest of Gunfighter flight were on route to a Soviet bomber group that was in a holding pattern ten miles out from Russian waters. His co-pilot, Lieutenant Avery Nichols, had been silent since they took off five minutes ago.

"You think this is really about to go down?" He asked over the radio.

"Dunno Nicks, but it doesn't look good." Dawes responded.

"You want me to call back to G-Dub? Make sure we're still a go?"

"Yeah. Patch in the rest of the guys too."

"Gotcha." Nichols replied as he switched over to Command communications. "Overlord this is Gunfighter one-two, how copy?"

"Overlord, good copy." Said the communications technician on the bridge of the Washington. "Send traffic,"

"Gunfighter requesting a SITREP, we still a go for engaging, over?"

"That's affirm Gunfighter. Radio back when target is in sight. Good hunting, Overlord out." And with that, the Washington cut out of their communication circuit. Avery shook his head as Dawes pushed the lever on the left of the cockpit to maximum thrust.

"Gunfighter go full afterburner. Two mikes until contact." Dawes ordered. The three F-14s rocketed forward as their wings swept back. He glanced at the picture of his longtime girlfriend Marina that was propped up next to his altimeter. This is it. He thought, I'm about to start the endwar. We're done. In two minutes the pilots were starting to see the outlines of the Soviet group. There were three Soviet "Bear" four-engine bombers, and a half-dozen fighters flanking them. Dawes patched back in to the group circuit and only heard the low scratching of radio static. Usually flights with this group filled the airwaves with banter and profanity. Finally it was him who broke the uneasy silence. "Gunfighter slow up, fan out. Gunfighter one on the Bear in the back, two on the middle, and three in the front. Do not engage yet. I repeat, hold fire."

"Gunfighter two acknowledged."

"Gunfighter three acknowledged."

"God help us." Nichols blurted out as the lead F-14 flew towards the Bear trailing most of the flight. They were so close that they could hear and feel the low hum of the bomber's massive engines. Dawes gave the thumbs up to Nichols signaling they were in position. "Gunfighter one in position." He said nervously over the radio as one of the Soviet fighters peeled off to intercept them. Within seconds it was flying right off their left wing. Dawes could see the pilot franticly flipping through switches in his cockpit, probably trying to radio home. "This can go really bad really fast Dawes." Nichols said cautiously.

"Gunfighter two in position... uh... Got two bogeys on me, they're not engaging."

"Copy that Gunfighter two, hold position." Dawes radioed, "Nicks, get us in touch with command."

"Solid copy." Nichols replied as he switched back into command communications again. "Overlord this is Gunfighter one-two, how copy?"

"Overlord, good copy. Send traffic."