Raven One by Kevin Miller

Author:Kevin Miller [Miller, Kevin]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Stealth Books
Published: 2015-08-02T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 40

Now Wilson’s biggest problem was fuel. He glanced at his moving map for the nearest heading to the blue safety of the Gulf, over 50 miles to the southwest. The Hornet, now light and slick, accelerated rapidly to 490 knots and began an emergency-fuel “bingo” climb. Getting to the ship was no longer an option. Wilson just wanted to get feet wet, and as far from the Iranian coast as possible, before he ejected.

On the way up, he searched the sky for the Bushier group Knight had been calling, and he took cautious glances over his shoulder to ensure his opponent had not changed his mind. He peered northwest down the valley and saw the black pall of smoke rising up from the desert floor some 10 miles away…Prince.

His eyes alternately scanned the cockpit instruments and outside in the familiar pattern he’d practiced since flight school. His eyes dwelled, however, on the fuel indicator, mentally noting every 10-pound drop. His engines would suck fuel until the tank was completely dry, and, the way he figured it, that was a real possibility in less than 15 minutes. The profile called for a climb to 20,000 feet at .83 mach, then an idle descent holding 250 knots at 32 miles. Eight hundred pounds, seven hundred and ninety pounds, seven eighty, seven seventy…

He had to get a voice report to Knight, and to the ship. “Knight, Raven four-zero-two.”

“Go ahead, four-zero-two!”

“Knight, four-zero-two is passing angels twelve on a bingo profile, state seven hundred. The bandit disengaged, and I don’t see any other bogeys. Didn’t see a chute or get a beeper on four-twelve…There’s a column of smoke on the desert floor about 10 miles north of me. Believe that’s him. Get a tanker out here, now.”

“Roger all, four-zero-two… Will pass to Mother,” Knight replied.

Still concerned about the Iranian fighter threat, Wilson called, “Picture.”

“Stand by, four-zero-two… Picture. Single group, BRA zero-two zero at sixty, medium, nose cold.”

“Roger, declare.” Wilson continued with the cadence.

“Hostile…70 miles now, no factor.”

“Roger.”

Wilson rolled the aircraft left and right and scanned the ground below for threats, but the landscape was barren: no twinkling AAA muzzle flashes or MANPADS missile plumes. He took a last look at Prince’s crash site over his right wing. The smoke appeared less dense, as if the fire were burning itself out.

The Gulf beckoned him. Although it filled his forward view with clear blue water, he was still over 30 miles from feet wet and over 40 from international airspace. He was also fighting a headwind. Leveling at 20,000 feet, Wilson pulled the throttles to idle, which allowed the airplane to decelerate to 265 knots.

Wilson’s fuel reading was just over 500 pounds, which translated into roughly five minutes of flight time. He could squeeze a few more minutes at idle power, but the ship was almost 100 miles away—over 20 minutes of flight time.

Knowing he had a chance if he acted fast, Wilson switched up to departure control frequency to back up his request for a tanker.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.