HOGS #6 Death Wish (Jim DeFelice’s HOGS First Gulf War series) by DeFelice Jim

Author:DeFelice, Jim [DeFelice, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Coyote, Inc.
Published: 2013-12-03T00:00:00+00:00

PART THREE

THIEVES

CHAPTER 32

KING FAHD

29 JANUARY 1991

0305

Colonel Knowlington pulled the survival vest over his flightsuit. Always in the past it had felt familiar, like an old jacket that had been around for years. But this morning it felt awkward and odd, heavier than it should, as if the pockets were filled with lead rather than a few survival necessities.

He double-checked his gear, moving quickly through the preflight ritual. He’d gotten bogged down with some extraneous maintenance details and was running late, very late; Antman was buttoned up in his Hog already, waiting.

The Colonel was still wrestling with his decision to lead the flight. He knew he was sober. He knew his fatigue and the last vestiges of his headache would clear after a breath or two of oxygen in the cockpit. He had several times the experience of anyone else he might tap to fly the mission; he could nail it with his eyes closed.

But should he go? Did he deserve to?

Wasn’t a question of deserving; it was a question of duty. There was no backup— he’d sent Dixon on to KKMC already to fill in for Hack. No one else in Devil Squadron could take this gig.

So it was his duty. That was something he could handle. He took his helmet, grabbed the board with the map and crib notes on the mission, and began walking toward the waiting Hog.

A certain élan, the British general had said.

Damn straight. Stealing a MiG out under Saddam’s nose. Impossible! Ridiculous!

So why had he gone along with it then?

Because he wanted to die? Because life wouldn’t be worth living if he wasn’t in the Air Force?

He couldn’t let that be the reason. The others— his men, his people, his boys— were putting their necks on the line. They weren’t doing that for some foolish, empty romantic notion, a vain piss in the wind that would satisfy his mistaken vanity. They were doing it to give the Allies a usable edge in the war and maybe beyond.

How could you tell the difference? A lot of people thought that’s what Vietnam was— vain, not worth the lives that were lost. He’d never believe that, though he had grieved the friends he’d lost, the many, many people who’d died.

The war had had an effect; in his opinion if in no one else’s. It had held the Soviets and the Chinese down for a while, helped divert attention from other trouble spots, in a way prevented something much, much worse.

And the truth was, sometimes did you lose, sometimes you gave it a shot and that wasn’t good enough; you had to accept that and move on. This war was justified for many reasons – to calm the Middle East, to keep the balance of power, to keep oil flowing, to stop Saddam from getting the bomb. It was being run much more intelligently than Nam.

So where did this mission fit in? Two Brits who might or might not be there, a Russian plane that was interesting, granted, but already a known quantity, as Wong himself had admitted.

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