position for a few seconds. With the flick of his wrist, he jerked the control stick to the left. The F-16's wing bumped the missile's stub just enough to upset its predetermined course. The missile's gyro-system immediately overloaded, causing its targeting system to go blank. The missile did a complete flip-over, then plunged into the sands below, detonating in a huge explosion.
But Hunter didn't even see the flash. He was already moving up and into position on the second missile.
45
He didn't have time to be so fancy with rocket number two. The base was just ten miles away. He caught up with the missile and pulled ahead and slightly above it. Then he gradually brought the F-16 down until the jet engine's hot exhaust was blowing directly into the missile's air-intake duct. Instantly the missile's fuel-combustion chamber became overheated by the F-16's aftersmoke.
Hunter bit his lip and held the risky position for seven long seconds before sharply veering away. Just in time, as the fuel ignited and the missile self-destructed in midair.
But there was still one missile left and now, with the base in view, he knew he would not be able to stop it.
The missile impacted exactly where his F-16 had been parked, causing a large blast of fire and dust. Luckily the two scramble pilots had warned the rest of the base before taking off in the two Tornados. The explosion was far enough away from the base's other two airplanes so as not to cause any damage.
However, as he streaked over the base and watched helplessly, Hunter could see that three of the base tents -those holding their valuable supplies - were burning ferociously. The base's water supply was also hit.
He landed by the light of the fires and taxied to the far end of the runway.
Without water, the base's personnel were helpless in fighting the flames. They could only move as much equipment as possible away from the blazing supply tents.
Hunter jumped out of the F-16 and ran to meet Heath, who was directing the emergency operation.
"That was a bad one, it was," Heath said, looking at the base's supplies going up in smoke.
"You've been attacked like this before?" Hunter asked.
46
"Twice," Heath said grimly. "But only by one missile at a time. Three missiles at us means someone was serious this time. If you hadn't stopped those other two, we'd have all been killed."
But Hunter wasn't taking any bows. The one rocket that made it through had impacted exactly where the 16 had been parked.
"They might have been going for me," he told Heath. "The New Order has a hefty price on my head and I think someone is trying to collect."
"Don't be crazy, old boy," Heath said, smiling and giving him a reassuring pat on the back. "There's no •' way you can be certain that missile had your name on it. As I said, we've been attacked before. They're trying to soften us up before the war starts up again. Anyone trying to start trouble in the Med knows they have to deal with our Tornados. They were just being a bit, well,
'preemptive,' I'd say."
Hunter appreciated Heath's effort to cheer him up, but he also knew the officer was wrong: those long-range missiles could definitely be targeted down to the last inch. All it would have taken was for a spy atop one of the sand dunes overlooking the base to send a message back to the launch crew in the Med, pinpointing the exact position of Hunter's F-16. In fact, all three missiles could have been targeted for the F-16. If it hadn't been for his own
"early warning system," his precious jet would be a piece of charred wreckage right now. And Hunter would be the first to admit that taking out his airplane was the next best thing to putting a bullet between his eyes.
Still, he couldn't be absolutely certain the missile attack was an assassination attempt.
"Okay," Hunter said, knowing it was smart to consider all possibilities. "Do you think this is the
47
work of Viktor-or Lucifer, if you prefer?"
"More likely one of his many rotting
But Hunter didn't even see the flash. He was already moving up and into position on the second missile.
45
He didn't have time to be so fancy with rocket number two. The base was just ten miles away. He caught up with the missile and pulled ahead and slightly above it. Then he gradually brought the F-16 down until the jet engine's hot exhaust was blowing directly into the missile's air-intake duct. Instantly the missile's fuel-combustion chamber became overheated by the F-16's aftersmoke.
Hunter bit his lip and held the risky position for seven long seconds before sharply veering away. Just in time, as the fuel ignited and the missile self-destructed in midair.
But there was still one missile left and now, with the base in view, he knew he would not be able to stop it.
The missile impacted exactly where his F-16 had been parked, causing a large blast of fire and dust. Luckily the two scramble pilots had warned the rest of the base before taking off in the two Tornados. The explosion was far enough away from the base's other two airplanes so as not to cause any damage.
However, as he streaked over the base and watched helplessly, Hunter could see that three of the base tents -those holding their valuable supplies - were burning ferociously. The base's water supply was also hit.
He landed by the light of the fires and taxied to the far end of the runway.
Without water, the base's personnel were helpless in fighting the flames. They could only move as much equipment as possible away from the blazing supply tents.
Hunter jumped out of the F-16 and ran to meet Heath, who was directing the emergency operation.
"That was a bad one, it was," Heath said, looking at the base's supplies going up in smoke.
"You've been attacked like this before?" Hunter asked.
46
"Twice," Heath said grimly. "But only by one missile at a time. Three missiles at us means someone was serious this time. If you hadn't stopped those other two, we'd have all been killed."
But Hunter wasn't taking any bows. The one rocket that made it through had impacted exactly where the 16 had been parked.
"They might have been going for me," he told Heath. "The New Order has a hefty price on my head and I think someone is trying to collect."
"Don't be crazy, old boy," Heath said, smiling and giving him a reassuring pat on the back. "There's no •' way you can be certain that missile had your name on it. As I said, we've been attacked before. They're trying to soften us up before the war starts up again. Anyone trying to start trouble in the Med knows they have to deal with our Tornados. They were just being a bit, well,
'preemptive,' I'd say."
Hunter appreciated Heath's effort to cheer him up, but he also knew the officer was wrong: those long-range missiles could definitely be targeted down to the last inch. All it would have taken was for a spy atop one of the sand dunes overlooking the base to send a message back to the launch crew in the Med, pinpointing the exact position of Hunter's F-16. In fact, all three missiles could have been targeted for the F-16. If it hadn't been for his own
"early warning system," his precious jet would be a piece of charred wreckage right now. And Hunter would be the first to admit that taking out his airplane was the next best thing to putting a bullet between his eyes.
Still, he couldn't be absolutely certain the missile attack was an assassination attempt.
"Okay," Hunter said, knowing it was smart to consider all possibilities. "Do you think this is the
47
work of Viktor-or Lucifer, if you prefer?"
"More likely one of his many rotting
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