pilot pushed the helicopter nose down and was diving for the ground.
“Roger sir, 500 AGL and closing, out.”
The flight leveled again after ten seconds in decline. Angela felt woozy again after the quick fall. Peter went to the door again. They were about six miles northwest of St. Charles with almost thirty miles of farmland ahead.
Big Eye One reported, “Army 502, this is Big Eye One, we are tracking your position. Be advised that the latest squawk from the target is under your position, over.”
From Little Bird One’s pilot, “Roger that Big Eye, we have target in sight, out.”
Peter was monitoring the dialogue with his headset. The target was located, so he needed an attack plan. This was one of those times he really wished they were back at the base camp where he could convene a war council with his team for coordination and ideas. Attacking the convoy would be tricky and it was depending on his decisions alone. He needed to keep the battle area away from cities and needed to act quickly.
He ordered the flight leader to match the convoy speed and set back one mile. He switched to COM2, “Eagle One, you copy? This is Shields, over.”
The F15 pilot responded, “Copy fivers sir, over.”
Peter asked, “Can you engage a moving target with XEMP? Over.”
The WSO responded, “Sir, how large is the target area? Over.”
Peter answered, “Estimate 400 feet, it’s a line of eight cars, fifty feet nose to nose, over.”
The response was, “Negative sir, that ground coverage is at the limits of the weapon aperture, I need to hit the center, that’s were the laser spot will need to be, over.”
”Eagle One, understand. Will need to stop convoy and put laser on the center. Estimate twenty-second delivery once engaged, is that correct? Over.”
“Ah, yes sir, twenty seconds to deliver, but I will need to be on terminal approach for a few seconds to verify signature and drop the package, over.”
Peter responded, “Got it. Eagle One, switch to COM1 please sir, over.”
“Roger that, COM1, over.”
Peter switched to COM1 open channel to the other aircraft, “All aircraft, this is Striker One, standby for instruction.” Pause. “Thunder, can you lay in a few dozen cannon rounds ahead of the lead car without hitting it, enough to destroy the road?”
“Striker One, be advised I’m packing 300 rounds of tank bustin’ 30’s that I can lay through the front door window if you want, over.”
“Thunder. On my mark, fire a burst 100 meters ahead of lead car. Then evac at max speed until you see a large explosion, then rally back for close air support. Do you copy? Over.”
“HUA Colonel! Thunder, out.”
Peter continued, “Little Bird Two on my second signal, laser designate the center of the convoy, regardless of configuration. Stand off one mile, over.”
“Roger Striker One, Bird Two, out.”
As he continued the instructions, the Apache moved ahead, directly above the top of the convoy, 100 feet above the ground.
The helicopter prepared to fire a ten-round burst at the road. The ammunition was mixed with armor piercing, explosive and tracer rounds. One thirty millimeter HE cannon round could blow a four foot crater in the ground. Ten rounds would equate to a bridge washout. The noise and explosive flashes would also be temporarily blinding to the drivers. The convoy would definitely stop.
Peter continued, “Striker One will land one hundred meters behind the convoy and block the exit, on my mark.”
Convoy
The Russians were speaking in English, making it difficult for the driver to understand. Machin had the controller resting on his lap and was fondling the controls with nervous anxiety. He said, “I do not know Vasya, they seem to be playing games. They know we are serious. Why are there such delays? Their processes are more bureaucratic than Moscow.” Machin was getting perturbed with the delays in Washington, but before his comrade could respond, the brilliant white light above them filled the sky with a cannon burst lasting half a second. The driver in the lead car saw the road ahead explode. Men in the rear cars recognized the rhythmic cadence of the chain gun firing overhead. The lead driver slammed his brake pedal, fighting for control as they were enveloped in dust, dirt and smoke. The cordite smell settled on the rear cars as the dark hull of the attack helicopter disappeared.
The cars slammed together, shortening the length of the convoy to less than two hundred feet. Machin was disoriented in the confusion and failed to give any immediate instructions. He wasn’t a combat soldier, lacking the conditioned instincts of the commandos in his caravan, lately of the H&S limousine company. When he did react, he jumped out of the car shouting, “Back fast!”
Little Bird One landed hard on the road, 100 meters behind the caravan with its landing lights blazing. A canyon now bisected the road ahead, and the fields on both sides were full of crops. In the darkness, Little Bird Four landed in the field to their left flank. Little Bird Three went to the right. Little Bird Two hovered above Three, firing an invisible laser at the center of the convoy.
Fifteen thousand feet above, the F-15E Strike Eagle was waiting.
The crew and squad aboard Little Bird One scrambled to the fields, taking firing positions in the darkness. Peter stayed aboard momentarily, using the radio to command the F15 above, “Strike Eagle One, this is Striker One, you are cleared to engage. Verify, over.”
The Strike Eagle is a dual-role fighter designed for air-to-air and air-to-ground missions. The F-15E can fight day or night, in all weather conditions. It has two crewmembers, a pilot and WSO and can fly over two thousand miles per hour. Eagle One was flying slow, about three hundred miles per hour, at fifteen thousand feet, five miles south of the convoy. The WSO called over the intercom to the pilot, “Sensor active and we have acquisition.”
The pilot radioed, “Roger Striker, Eagle One is engaging, over.”
As the response came, Russians began firing on his position.
Above them, Eagle One’s pilot flipped the master arm switch safety cover forward saying, “Weapon one is hot--firing!” The pilot depressed the weapon release on his control stick and the starboard bomb fell free. He then radioed to Peter, “Striker One, package en route, standing by, over.”
Peter was avoiding gunfire in Little Bird One and could not respond.
Over the personal communicator heard by the entire strike team, he ordered, “Everyone down! Now! Take cover for blast!”
Little Bird Two held position for about ten seconds, then dove for the ground, landing hard. Everyone jumped to the ground, face down in the dirt, arms covering their ears. Luke and Angela were thrown down and surrounded by the Rangers yelling, “Cover up! Cover up!”
Some Russians rushed into the fields, and others were charging Little Bird One. Silently above, an experimental bomb, “X” designation, was falling to earth at nearly five hundred miles per hour. A small parachute deployed from the tail cone to help stabilize flight toward the center of a laser spot. The parachute was used to orient the weapon; it did not slow it much. A modular GBU-15 guidance kit attached to the nose, with airfoil controls, controlled the experimental bomb. The F-15 WSO steered the device using a radio data link.
At five hundred feet above the ground, the bomb exploded in a blinding flash of light and incredibly loud concussion. The bomb was a secret weapon encased in cellulose to avoid shrapnel damage. The intense sound drove the Russians to the ground. Machin, still inside the middle car was dazzled. Had the bomb missed? His head was throbbing and his vision swirled, but he was able to grab the detonator box. He could hear the growing gunfire. He stared at the keypad for several seconds, unable to do anything. Then rage overtook him, and he started pressing numbers to activate the bombs. The EMP bomb had worked.
Electro-Magnetic Pulse effects were first observed during the early testing of airburst nuclear weapons. A powerful blast created an electromagnetic shock wave capable of inf
licting irreversible damage to electronic equipment. Military systems are hardened with special electronic shielding to resist the effects of EMP, while ordinary electronic circuits are destroyed. Peter had known about the experiments conducted at Eglin Air Force Base while he was stationed at SOCOM.
Soldiers were exchanging fire with muzzle flashes lighting the fields left and right of the convoy. The firefight gained intensity, while Peter worked the radio, still on board the aircraft. On COM3, he yelled, “Striker Three, this is striker One. Do you copy?”
“Roger One, over.”
“Striker Three execute Snake Bite, execute, execute! Over.”
“HUA Colonel. Phase three execute! Over.”
“Out” was all he could say leaping through the door as bullets slammed through the windshield. He was in the open, lying on the road as 7.62mm bullets ricocheted around him. He was behind the landing lights, but full automatic fire was ricocheting all around. Hot pavement and bullet fragments hit his upper body, shoulder armor and goggles, damaging unprotected arms. His face was bleeding from numerous wounds.
As bullets mauled the helicopter and the lights, he rolled right, over the edge of the road. He stopped after sliding in loose gravel in prone position, presenting the smallest target possible. Aiming his M4 toward the muzzle flashes, he flipped the selector to semi-auto and began squeezing off rounds. There were more than thirty enemy