Castle Roland

And Justice For All

by Eric Aune, Ken Barber, Roland and Al Norris


Chapter 8

Posted: 26 Jan 15

And Justice For All

Copyright © 2014 - 2015 by Eric Aune, Ken Barber, Roland and The Revolutions Universe Partnership
All rights Reserved

With Liberty

And Justice For All Logo"Roger that, Justice One." Colonel Sinclair said as he came over the radio. "Be advised you have two fast movers heading your way. We've almost cleared the area of the slow movers, but the jets are giving us hell."

"Got them on radar." Will said as he looked at the pilot. He couldn't help but cringe as he saw the man's injuries. "You gonna be okay?"

"I will be once you get us to Daytona, and I can get a doctor." The man said in a forceful tone. Will could only imagine the mental discipline the man had to have to be able to focus with those types of injuries. "Have you ever flown a plane with chaff and flares, in a combat situation."

Before Will could answer a shrill tone echoed throughout the cockpit. "FUCK!" Will cried as he rolled the craft almost onto its right wing, and adjusted the flaps to give him the most maneuverability he had. The first missile missed without any other help, but the next ones were a bit closer. Thankfully, with Captain Diego talking Will through it, the other missiles were taken out by both chaff and flares.

The squadron of sixteen F-18 Super Hornets kept to the clouds at maximum altitude. The entire squadron was flying as fast as they could to link up with the plane they would escort back to Daytona. The only electronic equipment active was the navigational system. It was a dangerous way to fly into a battle but they needed the element of surprise since Justice One took off before they got there. They knew they were flying right into a shit storm but were counting on the confusing tactics already in play and the complete surprise of the entire mission. Lieutenant Commander Voltz chuckled again at the audacity of the entire plan. Shit that may be the only reason they pull it off.

"Sabre Squadron this is Sabre 1 move to flight combat formation. Sabre 13 break Flight 4 off and link up with Air Force One." The fighters broke into four groups of four each assigned a specific task in the mission.

"Flight 4 breaking off."

"IFF and area radar go live now. Stay sharp boys."

"I have Justice One on Radar. Sabre 5 take Flight 2 and begin your turn to take up escort positions. Flight 1 and 3 will move past and clear any chasers."

"Sabre 1 this is Sabre 13 we have Air Force One on radar, on course. Holy Shit! Air Force Two and NEACAP are in the air. "

"Sabre 13 verify Air Force Two and NEACAP in the air."

"Roger 1 and making tracks north."

Commander Voltz thought for a second, nothing in the briefing mission mentioned Air Force Two or NEACAP. That meant only one thing. "Flight 3 splash Air Force Two and NEACAP."

"Roger moving into attack formation." The four jets in Flight 3 rocketed forward in V-formation closing the gap. The large lumbering planes would not stand a chance if they closed the distance before they engaged.

"Sabre 1, Sabre 2 we have a flight of F-16s firing on Justice One. Justice One is making evasive maneuvers and damn, that big bitch is dancing."

"Flight 1 V-formation. Come across the nose of Justice One use her bulk to hide us."

"Flight 3 moving into attack position on Air Force Two."

All sixteen planes broke out of the heavy clouds. Flight 1 immediately saw the giant C-5 Galaxy twisting and turning, in the slight moonlight, trying to shake off the F-16s chasing them. All four planes in Flight 1 threw their targeting radar on in sequence and were instantly rewarded with the sweet tone denoting missile locks. Commander Voltz looked at the screen in front of him, the F-16s were caught off guard and were rapidly trying to get out of the way of the new threat.

"Sabre 1, Fox 1." He shouted over the radio to let his wingmen know he fired a missile.

"Sabre 3 Fox 1"

"Sabre 2 Fox 1"

"Sabre 4 Fox 1."

The planes rocketed forward as if chasing their own missiles. The pilots expertly tracked their foes, trying desperately to stay lined up for another shot if it was needed. The fireball that lit up the dark sky told them all that one missile found its mark. It was immediately followed by a second fireball.

"Sabre 1, Splash 2. Break into twos and reengage." He reached down and switched radio channels. "Archangel, Archangel this is Sabre Squadron we have Justice One and are knocking the gnats off her ass. Be advised we have Air Force Two and NEACAP in the air. I have one flight moving into position to engage...."

He was cut off over the radio. "Sabre, negative! disengage Air Force Two and NEACAP are friendly. I say again...."

Voltz didn't let him finish. "Flight 3 disengage, disengage. Targets are friendly, I repeat targets are friendly. Whose bright idea was it to add Air Force Two and NEACAP and forget to tell the fighter pilots?”

"Sabre 2, Fox 2."

“Flight 3, Roger, disengaging, be advised we have a ton of choppers down there beating the hell out of the friendly troops."

"Archangel, we are disengaged from Air Force Two and NEACAP, stand by." Another explosion lit up the darkness around them.

"Sabre 2, Splash 3. Shit I have an incoming vampire."

"Sabre 2, Sabre 3. Break right break right."

"It’s on me, I can't shake it."

The missile lock tone sounded in Voltz's ear. " I have him, Sabre 1, Fox 2." As soon as he fired the missile there was another explosion way too early for his missile. His heart sank. "Sabre 2 SITREP."

"Sabre 2, ejecting, we will be sitting on the sidelines for the rest of this one."

The entire Squadron was silent for a moment as this was the moment they all dreaded and never discussed. It was the one thing they all hoped they would never have to say or hear over radio. The darkness was too absolute to visually see if the chutes opened, so all of the team held their breath, until the locator beacon activated.

"This is Sabre 10, may God be with you, brothers."

Another explosion rocked the night and Voltz panicked for a moment until he looked down on the screen. "Sabre 1, Splash 4."

"Flight 3 this is Sabre 1, make a high speed attack pass on those choppers and link up with us. Flight 2 and 1, assume escort positions, let's get her safely to Daytona."

"Roger moving to ground attack."

Flights 1 and 2 of Sabre Squadron maneuvered into an escort pattern around Justice One. Flight 2 forward of the giant plane and Flight 1 was trailing it.

"Archangel, this is Sabre Squadron, Justice One is clear, we got it from here. Good luck to you all. Sabre Squadron out." He reached down and change frequencies.

"Justice One, this is Sabre 1, we got you covered. All enemy aircraft are down. You are clear to Daytona."

Runt took a deep breath then switched to the subspace frequency that only those helicopters that came from their home universe could access. "Okay Angels here's the deal. Ain't no way we are going to take down all twenty-four Apaches. But we will have to slow them down. So here's the plan. Take the weapons offline, then engage the stealth. When we get right up to their lines, we'll disengage the stealth and burst through their formation, taking as many out as we can. Then I want you guys disappearing and reappearing all over the place, taking shots then going stealth again. It's not going to last long, and we may burn out a stealth unit or two, but it's the only shot we have to delay them."

"Roger that Angel 2." Came the response. It made Runt nervous that all the pilots of the Huey's were non-Unit members. They had a little bit of training with them on the flight from Utah, but they were by no means experts with the helicopters.

Runt then moved over to 314, the frequency that the Bloods Honor Helicopters were using. "BH Cobras, be advised, we are reclassifying you to Angels 7 and 8. Understood.

"Angel 7. Copy."

"Angel 8. Understood."

"Good, now, here's the plan. I want you guys to hang back, and do not say a word about what you see from us. When you get just inside of weapons range of the enemy formation, I want you to fire two salvos. Then it's dogfight time. We are not trying to take them all out, but we are trying to buy Broadsword enough time to get out of there. We all know helicopter jocks will go after other birds if given the chance, so we're gonna give it to them. Understood."

"Yes sir!" Came the response from both of the new Angels. Later on they may think it odd that they called someone who sounded so young, sir, but for now, Runt had taken charge, and they knew it.

Switching again to the subspace frequency, Runt keyed the mic. "Okay guys, let’s kick it up, and confuse the shit outta them. They have to have us on radar by now, so wait to engage the stealth until we are almost in range. That should confuse them, then drop into attack pattern Short Alpha niner, formed on me. Then wait for the order. As I said, we need to take out as many as we can on the first run."

Runt didn't wait for an answer, he pushed the throttle forward, and felt the nimble craft jump forward. {How can you be so calm?} Tommy asked in his mind.

Runt answered mentally as he scanned his radar, seeing they only had about a minute before they would be in weapons range. {Oh I ain't! I'm just about shittin bricks right now. But we gotta do what we gotta do. You okay?}

{Yeah... just like we practiced, right?} Tommy asked, still a bit of nerves showing even in his mental voice.

{Yup, just like we practiced...} Runt watched the radar closely, then keyed his mic. "Angel flight, GO!" Runt then disengaged his weapons system, and engaged his stealth. He almost laughed as he heard the surprise and panic flood the radio from the incoming squadron. Perhaps in the future Runt would be able to sit down and think about the almost psychotic feelings he had running through him at the moment, but for now, he had only one thing on his mind. Survival... well and taking out as many of the Apaches as he can.

He glanced at the radar and saw that the three Hueys were in star formation behind him, and he grinned. This was either going to be really good, or really bad. Well it was going to be really bad for someone, he just hoped it wasn't for his side.

It was only about twenty seconds before he keyed the mic. "BREAK!" He cried as he flipped off the stealth, and flipped on the weapons. As soon as he had tone, Tommy started to fire; while Runt was doing as much as he could with the 20 mm cannon in the nose. Later on, when he reviewed the tape, he would be amazed at how well the first part of his plan worked.

The incoming squadron broke formation, as Runt led the Huey's right down the middle of the Apaches. He had no idea how many were taken out from their first run, but he knew that he and Tommy took out at least three, and damaged one or two more.

Runt sent the Black Ghost into a steep dive, as he switched the weapons off, and re-engaged the stealth. He then pulled back hard, pulling his helicopter into a climb. He flipped over, and then reengaged the enemy. By now the Hueys had broken off and were coming in from every angle. While they may not have been experts in flying the modified Hueys, they were all showing that they were pilots of the highest caliber.

The fighting was fierce, and more than once, Runt had to pull out quickly as the air was suddenly very cluttered with helicopters. However, there was almost a maniacal grin plastered to his face the entire time. The worst part to him was that he had no real idea how many he and Tommy had hit. He was too busy trying to make sure he didn't hit another helicopter, as well as trying not to overload the system as he disengaged and re-engaged his stealth unit.

"ANGEL 4 is down!" He heard over the radio, then realized it was his own voice. He saw it out of the corner of his eyes. The Huey reappeared, fired, but didn't see the other Apache that was running right towards where he appeared. Neither one had a chance to get out of the way, as the Apache plowed into the side of the Huey.

"Angel 3 hit!" He heard, then breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the next part. "Attempting a controlled landing..."

Tommy was next. "Good luck guys!" Even as he said that, he was firing at another Apache.

"ANGEL 6! Controls are not responding. I think I burned out...." Nothing else was heard as one of the enemy Apache's lined up, fired, and Angel 6 became nothing more then a fireball falling out of the sky.

Runt was about to give the signal to disengage from the battle when he heard over the radio. "Angels this is Sabre Flight coming in from your 2 o'clock high, engaging enemy helicopters. Angels bank out!"

Runt reacted immediately. He pulled the Black Ghost high, and banked hard to get out of the dog fight. Moments later a flight of four fighter jets screamed into the battle with a massive salvo of missiles leading the way, followed by a strafing run that blasted through the remaining Apaches, taking out over half of what was left.

Moments later, Archangel came over the radio. "Remaining Helicopters bugging out. Jesus FUCKING Christ! I can't fucking believe we just pulled that off."

Will took a moment to wipe the sweat from his eyes, then keyed his mic. "Sabre 1 this is Justice One. Thank you for the assist."

"Roger Justice One, we will be with you the whole way to Daytona, Sabre 1 out."

Knowing that his brothers were on the plane, Will reached out to Chang. {I need you in the cockpit now! Bring your kit.}

{Do I even want to know why you're here?} Adam asked through the link. Before Will could answer though, Adam spoke again. {Fuck it, we'll worry about Mom later. We're on the way up, and I'm bringing Apollo with me.}

Moments later, Chang almost ran into the cockpit, took one look at Will, then went to the pilot and started to work. He immediately enlisted Adam's help to start treating the injured pilot. Will was so busy concentrating on flying this beast of an aircraft, that he ignored everything until he saw, out of the corner of his eyes, Apollo slide into the now empty pilot’s seat. "You ever fly one of these things?" Will asked.

"Not a chance in hell. Bluntly, I hate fixed wings, even though they made me learn how to fly one. Nothing close to this size though. It was a Gulf Stream." The older boy spoke as he was scanning the controls, trying to match what was there, with what he knew. He looked over at Will, then felt his eyes drawn down to the boy's side. "You're bleeding!" He almost shouted.

Will looked down himself, and then put his hand to his side. It came away sticky and wet. "Yeah." Was all he said.

"NO!" Both Will and Apollo turned quickly when they heard the pilot shout. "I'm not leaving the cockpit." He said, his words slightly slurred. "No pain killers!" The man said forcefully. "Neither of these kids know how to fly this thing. I have to be up here."

Chang looked at the man carefully for a few moments, then to Adam. Seeing Adam was going to leave this to his discretion, Chang nodded and spoke. "I will allow you to stay, but I am going to give you a very mild pain killer. This will only take the edge off, but still allow you to keep your wits about you." Before Chang even had a chance to apply the pain killer, the man passed out again.

Chang then looked at Will and spoke. "You have also been shot." He moved over and carefully ripped open Will flight suit right over the wound. "It went clean through." Chang placed his hand over the wound and concentrated for a few moments. "I cannot detect anything major wrong. However, I am going to ask Ian to come up here, and see what he can do for both you, and Captain Diego."

Back in the personnel compartments of the C-5, Ian hadn't been idle. There were several critically wounded soldiers on board, and Ian had been going from the most critical to the least. Ethan was using his telepathic ability, along with the medics, to triage the wounded. Meanhhile Ian, with Jamie helping to remove bullet fragments and other assorted shrapnel. He was working as fast and as thoroughly as he could, just to get the wounded stabilized for later care.

By the time Chang called Ethan, mentally, Ian was on his last legs, so to speak. He was tapped out. Jamie was almost as close to exhaustion as Ian.

{Chang,} Ethan sent to both Chang and Will, {Ian and Jamie are about dead on their feet. They've been working on the severely wounded back here. I don't see how Ian could do any good up there. He is just about to the point of passing out... Oh, Ian just told me that Will should be OK. That with his metabolism, the bleeding should have all but stopped and his body would be repairing the wound. If the through and through didn't hit anything vital, he should be pretty much OK. He's sorry, but he just doesn't have the energy left to help anyone up there.}

Will nodded and relaxed. He knew he was in for a long flight, especially since they already knew that Ian could not do anything about the concussion, and the severe headache he was starting to develop.

Admiral Norris was pacing in the CIC waiting to hear from the plane carrying the Supreme Court. He knew a win was needed and it was needed soon or morale throughout the troops loyal to Bryce would start to plummet and everyone would start to question their faith in the President.

"Admiral Incoming transmission. Sabre Squadron has linked up with Justice One and cleared the area for them."

Norris took in the entire CIC. "It's go time people. Full active Radar, BARCAP move to cover ground troops in Daytona. The gig is up, everyone knows we are here now. Miller use whatever assets you need to get that plane here. Open the live feed to President Bryce. Get Ramage, Fort Worth, and Gettysburg in range of the beach. Vicksburg, Dunham and Gravely screen the approach from Jacksonville. If any fighters launch from NAS Jacksonville, I want them knocked out of the air before the pilot can figure out what the fuck direction to go."

"Yes Admiral. "

"Ronald Reagan, Big Brother 1, we are picking up a multiple fixed and rotary wing air assets taking off from Orlando and headed your way."

"Roger Big Brother 1. Miller send the Black Knight Squadron to intercept. Payne relay the data from Big Brother 1 to the ground troops." Norris walked over to the board and stared at it for a second. They had expected this and could deal with it.

Miller nodded. "Black Knights moving to intercept. Anvil Squadron taking BARCAP positions."

"Reagan, Big Brother 1, we got a Mechanized Infantry Brigade sized unit tearing ass towards Daytona."

"Understood Big Brother 1. Payne get Bucky on the radio and tell him to make sure those ambushes along Interstate 4 are set. Harass and slow that main body. We have to buy about two hours here folks." Even though the cold winter air was coming in through the open door, he could see beads of sweat on some of crew’s foreheads.

"Black Knights engaging enemy aircraft northeast of Orlando."

"Reagan, Big Brother 2, we have another enemy fighter squadron coming out of Tampa. "

"Roger Big Brother 2. Miller Intercept with Anvil Squadron. Keep Hammer Squadron in reserve. We planned for this everyone. It′s time to earn our pay. Stay sharp." He wasn't sure if he was telling them for their benefit or his.

"Aye Admiral."

"Black Knight Squadron, splash 2 at long range, moving for short range."

Admiral Norris watched as two of the red lights that identified enemy aircraft on the giant electronic board went out. "Nice Work. Miller, Justice One ETA?"

"Approximately 1 hour 25. I have Sabre Squadron diverting one flight to cover Air Force One."

"Miller send Air Force One directly to Bermuda. That should pull some of those fighters after it. Tell that pilot to draw some fire his way." The pace of activity in CIC would be considered frantic to the casual observer but to Norris it was a well-oiled machine.

"Yes Admiral."

A green triangle on the board went out. "Black Knight 8 is down, chutes deployed."

"Send the location to Bucky's team see if they can pick them up."

"Anvil Squadron engaging at maximum range."

Norris looked at the board again the number of red lights kept growing. This was an Aircraft Carrier’s worst nightmare, losing air superiority. "Miller commit Hammer Squadron and have Lancer Squadron assume reserve."

"Aye Admiral. Black Knights have splashed 5 of 16 in the first wave. We just lost another plane."

"Pull them back and have Hammer Squadron take over the battle, put the Black Knights on forward BARCAP." To Norris this felt like a giant juggling act, only with multi-million dollar fighter jets and people instead of colored balls.

"Aye Admiral. Anvil Squadron is hitting the second wave pretty hard; they have splashed eight of twelve at max range."

"Damn good work."

"Anvil Squadron, Big Brother 2, Go High! Go High! multiple SAMs in your vicinity!" The operator shouted over the radio traffic.

"Anvil Squadron pushing the ceiling... shit we have multiple locks, evasive maneuvers, fire chaff and flares. Multiple incoming vampires. Anvil 2 and 4 break right, get in the clear and try to hit those SAM launchers."

Miller reached over one of the techs shoulder and typed in a command. "Recommitting Black Knight Squadron."

"This is Saber Troop 1/2 Cav, we have your SAM launchers on radar, engaging now."

"Welcome to the fight Saber troop."

"It's a pleasure to be here. Now let me see if I can get these bees off your ass."

"Anvil 3 is hit! Anvil 3 is hit! Pilot unresponsive. No Chute."

Everyone held their breath. "Anvil 3 is down. No Chute, I say again, No Chute."

Norris gripped the edge of the console until his knuckles almost popped having been a fighter pilot himself, he still felt the pain of loss every time a pilot went down... "Reagan, this is Big Brother 1, looks like the enemy fighters are turning back, you still have a large ground force in route."

"Thank you Big Brother. Miller pull everyone back. Those fighters are regrouping and will be back. Let's start doing combat reloads on as many planes as possible. Get the helicopter squadrons in the air to support the ground troops. ETA on Justice One? Get me Bucky now."

"Aye Admiral. ETA on Justice One, 57 minutes."

"Juliette this is Romeo, you have multiple mechanized units heading your way. Request laser targeting for cruise missile strikes. Juliette make sure the targets are in the open."

"Romeo this is Juliette, we copy and will do our best to reduce collateral damage."

"Roger Juliette." Everything was eerily quiet for a few minutes.

"This is Jason Dunham. We have targeting telemetry incoming for Tomahawk launch."

"Dunham fire when ready."

"On the way."

Norris could see the flash and following flare as a Tomahawk missile screeched skyward and then turn to travel inland to its intended target. Everyone in CIC watched the missile's track on the electronic board until it disappeared amid a cluster of red squares. This is what the carrier group did best, rain death down on their enemies.

"Romeo, this is Juliette. Good hit! That put them on their asses. They are deploying into linear battle formation. That will slow them down a bit, we are falling back to secondary positions." Bucky almost sounded jovial.

"Roger, good job Juliette." Norris looked at the Board for what had to have been the hundredth time. "Justice One, ETA?"

"40 Minutes."

Norris spun around. “Shit they are ahead of schedule. Tell War Eagle to be ready on the ground. Miller start looking at clearing a path through those fighters for them. Make sure all air defense assets are online.”

"This is Juliette, we have secured pilot and RTO from Black Knight 8. Minor injuries only."

"Roger that Juliette, Nice work." Norris circled around the CIC again. This is why he never wanted a star on his collar. At this point there was nothing for him to do. Everyone had their assigned duties and tasks, all he could do was monitor everything. "Ok everyone, we are in the eye of the storm. Don't get complacent. What we just went through was a minor raid compared to what we are about to see. CAG what's your status report."

"Four Hornets down."

"Understood. I will need the names of the crews we lost."

"Admiral Sabre Flights 3 and 4 reporting multiple contacts engaging Air Force One. Requesting reinforcements."

"Send Hammer Squadron to escort Air Force One."

"Reagan this is Big Brother 4, you have a heavy armor brigade hauling ass down Interstate 95 south from just west of Saint Augustine. ETA 25 minutes."

Norris just shook his head, "Fuck, get me the ground units on the radio, now."

"War Eagle 6, this is Ronald Reagan, over."

"Ronald Reagan, this is War Eagle 6, go ahead."

"Be advised: You have a heavy armor brigade bearing down on you from the north about 20 minutes out."

"Well shit, we didn't really count on that, did we. We can hold, if your destroyers can provide us with artillery when they get close." Felix's voice proved how confident he was in the Cavalry and Marines on the ground.

"They're all yours War Eagle 6. Ronald Reagan out." Again everything in the CIC got quiet and Norris surveyed the friendly assets on the board. They might be able to pull this off if the enemy didn't pull too many more fighters out of their asses.

Adam entered the cockpit of the C-5 with an older gentleman right behind him. "Will, this is retired Commander James Horne, US Navy fighter pilot. He will be your radio man."

Will nodded, thankful he didn't have to come across the radio and talk, since he was still in that great time where his voice cracked a lot.

"USS Ronald Reagan, this is Justice One. We are entering your air space, please advise."

"Justice One go to 157.01 and stand by."

"Ronald Reagan, this is Justice One on 157.01."

"Justice One, this is Ronald Reagan, increase speed to maximum. You are coming into a hot LZ, do you copy?"

"Roger that Ronald Reagan. Coming into a hot LZ. Please be advised that we do have injuries on board. We will need medical standing by."

"Understood Justice One, medical crews will be standing by on the ground. What is the condition of your sensitive cargo?"

"Reagan, the cargo is safe and secure. All the pieces are accounted for." Jimmy said with a grin.

"Well done Justice One, Let's get you on the ground. Come to bearing 224.89, decrease altitude. Take her as low as you can and verify IFF transmission. You are entering our air defense net."

"Roger that. Coming to bearing 224.89, going low and coming in fast." Jimmy grinned just as much as Will was as he took the plane to near tree top level. He then switched over to the internal radio.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we are about to enter hostile airspace. If you would be so kind as to make sure that you are seated, and securely strapped in. Also, please make sure that your seat backs and tray tables are in the upright and locked position. That way we don't have any accidents. While we did not have an in flight movie, the flight’s entertainment is about to start. That is, of course, assuming you like thrill and roller coaster rides."

"Justice One, this is Admiral Norris. Pilot can you handle the plane at those speeds flying at that altitude?"

Jimmy paused and looked over at Will and Apollo, who looked at each other and shrugged. Neither one of them willing to verbally express their apprehension. Jimmy however, cleared his throat and keyed the mic. "Absolutely sir. We could do it blindfolded if needed."

"Justice One you are entering Strike Group 9 controlled airspace. Do not deviate from course. Air traffic is heavy."

"Do they not issue admirals a sense of humor?" Apollo asked, causing Will, Jimmy, and Captain Diego to chuckle.

"No son, no they don't. Especially this admiral." Jimmy keyed his mic. "Understood Reagan."

Admiral Norris watched as the green arrow seemed to crawl its way across the board. He was staring at it as if trying to will it to move faster.

"Reagan, Big Brother 1, two squadrons coming out of Orlando, they are coming fast."

"Miller get Black Knights and Anvil to intercept, recall Hammer Squadron."

"Aye Admiral."

"This is Big Brother 4, multiple incoming vampires from bearing 005.98. Tracking trajectory. Gravely you have four cruise missiles inbound; Dunham you have two inbound."

Norris's heart was in his throat. There shouldn't be anything in the area with that kind of munitions... "Where they hell did they come from?"

"Reagan, Big Brother 4 picking up four enemy squadrons inbound from the northeast right behind the missiles. Holy shit, that's the Eastwood with all escorts!"

Norris spun around, "Fuck! Get that damn plane on the ground now. Miller reform Sabre Squadron, pull everyone off Air Force One. Tell that pilot he is on his own."

"Justice One, this is Ronald Reagan, get her down now, prepare for a combat unload. Be advised we no longer have air superiority."

"Roger that Reagan, beginning final approach now. Be advised, the cargo is going to take no less than four minutes to fully unload." Jimmy said, even his normally jovial voice beginning to show signs of stress.

"Justice One you will be lucky to have one minute."

"This is Dunham, two vampires neutralized." The voice on the radio was excited and stressed at the same time. A destroyer shooting down two inbound cruise missiles at once was a feat, but right now there was no time to celebrate.

"This is War Eagle 6, we are taking heavy artillery fire from the north, they are hammering the runway."

"Gravely is hit! Gravely is hit!" Myers shouted out, she was clearly distressed.

Norris grabbed her. "Get Gravely on the emergency channel. Find out how bad." He then grabbed the mic, "Dunham, Ramage, sending targeting telemetry to Eastwood escort ships. Full Tomahawk salvo, four missiles each. Vicksburg, move to cover Gravely."

"This is Dunham, we have the targets, missiles away."

"Reagan, this is Ramage, missiles away."

Night Cruise Missile Fire

Everyone was quiet as they watched the eight angels of death streak toward their targets. Only three made it through the point defense systems.

"This is Big Brother 4, two hits on USS Anzio. USS Winston Churchill hit. Minor damage on Churchill, no secondary explosions. Anzio hit at the water line, she is on fire and listing."

Miller shouted. "Admiral we cannot hold the fighters back, they are gunning for Justice One."

Norris grabbed the radio mic and before transmitting took a deep breath and paused for two seconds. "God Damn it!" He keyed the mic.

"Justice One, this is Ronald Reagan, wave off! wave off! LZ not cleared to land. Wave off!"

"Fuck!... Got it!... Roger! Aborting landing!"

Captain Miller jumped in and took control. "Justice One climb to 8000 feet and come to bearing 065.45 make for Bermuda International. All fighters, all squadrons take up escort positions, keep those fighters off Justice One.”

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