Kahlia Akasha Jet Strike

Kahlia Akasha Jet Strike

   Over mirror smooth black pacific waters under the arcing dark sky full of a billion stars, my stealth warplane ghosts towards her targets on her mission of war. She is a wraith of non existence with the looks of a goddess doing her work to stop the devil. Soon she will be over her target, let the fun begin... KAHLIA AKASHA returns...

   On a hidden beach on a small island in the Andaman group, in the Andaman Sea, a covert mission was being planned for the coming night time hours. A military strike was in the final stages of preparation. Under the coconut trees a single warplane was being prepared for battle, fuel was pumped into her fuel tanks, electronic systems were being checked and calibrated and weapons were being loaded to give her teeth. Two flight crew quietly changed into flight gear that included a flying suit with fireproof waterproof protection, a life vest for ejection over the ocean, lightweight Kevlar flying boots, flying helmets with digital display and helmet sight and other equipment, including pistols. When fully prepared each pilot checked the other’s equipment for errors or problems. Everything had to be correct; there would be no second chances on this deadly mission over an enemy country. One pilot was a European white male in his thirties with dark brown hair, delicate green eyes and a slight tan from his time on the uninhabited island. He was six foot tall and in ideal shape. His companion was a young lady a decade younger than himself and a foot smaller. She moved with a grace and elegance of a dancer or martial art expert. Her oriental origins gave her an exotic air. Together they made an odd combination and like the taller man she wore a wedding band made from a green crystal. Were they together in matters of the heart and not just as aircrew? Both gave little information away without a reciprocal price or agreement bordering on a blood contract, such was the nature of their game.

   Several bare skinned men of medium height hurried around the warplane parked under the trees, empty wooden crates lay unwanted the contents now hanging underneath the light blue coloured warplane. These weapons would be used over the next few hours on preselected targets and targets of opportunity. The leader of the men approached the tall western pilot and conversed in low tones of broken English, both men walked over to the aircraft. The oriental, recruited from a neighbouring island, stood aside while the pilot checked his work. Only if satisfied would the pilot pay the local labour for their efforts, it had to be correct and then the lady pilot would double check. No errors could be allowed. He walked around the plane, his warplane, checking the weapons were firmly in place on their pylons with umbilical connections linking them to the aircraft in place and not loose. On eight under wing pylons, with four either side, the bomb load was a mixed one for maximum destruction and death. Two short range Bright Star air to air missiles on the very outer missile pylons, backed up by two medium range Axe Head radar guided missiles for air combat, followed by two Medusa anti radar missiles to hit enemy radar systems and on the inboard pylons two Saffron anti tank missiles that doubled as good attack weapons. A single belly mounted fuel tank gave us extended range to escape to Thailand after our target runs. Forward of the fuel tank was a twin barrel 23mm cannon with two hundred and fifty rounds of ammo, half for each barrel. A heavier 30mm gun could be carried but the added firepower of this was negated to save a bit of weight with the smaller weapon.

   Kahlia Akasha looked the same in the darkness but on closer inspection she was a very different beast. Gone was the eight bladed prop and rear mounted turboprop engine of her sister. Replacing this was a single jet engine from a late model Mig 29 jet fighter, slightly modified for installation in the deadly warplane. A longer rear fuselage with rear engine exhaust and forward air in take catered for the new engine. Performance figures were top secret but included a high altitude top speed of 1,700mph at a height of 65,000ft, a maximum climb rate of 80,000ft per minute and a combat ceiling of 75,000ft. In a zoom climb she had climbed up to 130,000ft, a new official world height record adding to her speed and climb records established the previous summer. Now she was doing what she was built to do, go to war. She had been updated in a second more deadly version and now she was being readied for battle, a mission to strike terror and fear into the Burmese military and test out their new weapon systems against hers. Kahlia Akasha number two would win, this was a forgone conclusion. It was good to prove the simulations right. In future she would carry a new set of advanced weapons including a small laser weapon replacing her cannon and new missiles and guided bombs. Currently she was armed with the same reliable weapons of her prop driven sister, along with the same Topaz radar but with added air-to-air modes for air superiority duties, making full use of her superior performance. Her speed was almost triple that of her sister and her climb rate was ten times more, the airframe was strengthened at critical places like the wing root, fuselage, tail plane and weapon pylons. Wing skins were increased in thickness and the wing spar was tripled in strength for the higher acceleration forces, a new canopy with heat resistant qualities for high-speed flight replaced the previous cockpit canopy. It was gold plated to stop radar waves penetrating into the cockpit to lower the radar signature to almost zero. Stealth design was still of huge importance for Kahlia Akasha model two, light blue matt stealth paint replaced the previous matt black for better camouflage in the Pacific region.

   A tanned oriental man monitored a laptop computer connected to the flight systems. The pilot finished his checks and quietly chatted to the technician flicking through the menu on the computer, triple checking everything. Taking his eyes off the screen he looked over and saw his wife scrutinising the missiles and aircraft; excellent she would double-check his checks. No problems, so it was time to mount up but not before a small thank you ceremony and payment for their ground crew whose help had been invaluable and speeded things up.

   The pilot walked over to the group of ground crew who were milling around under the trees, final checks complete. He carried a small wooden box and called out, “Okay guys come on over here. I’ve something important to say. Jan leave the laptop you can close it down in a minute, come on over here.”

   They assembled under the shady tree canopy, feeling the nice cool night air on their toned tanned bodies. Dim night-lights illuminated the area, not visible from more than thirty yards away. Opening his box the tall pilot took out several bundles wrapped in cotton. Walking up to the assembled men he shook their hands and spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper, thanking them for their time and service. Asking them to be careful and leaving the door open for their help in the future if another strike was needed in the area. He pointed further down the beach to an area where the lights weren’t visible. There were three small electric speed boats, used for the getaway to other uninhabited islands where they would lie low and then proceed to the others like stepping stones. Taking their time to escape when the authorities or a foreign army came looking for them. Each oriental man took the small cloth bundle and shook the pilot’s hand and thanked him. In ten minutes the small ceremony was complete. Jan disconnected his laptop and they were all set – the mission could officially begin. All evidence was destroyed by small fires in the middle of the jungle or by burying it at hidden locations.

   It wasn’t the pilot who climbed aboard the warplane first but his wife, she athletically took her position in the forward front cockpit. Fastening her seat straps and parachute harness she powered up her own computer displays from standby to active. She began checking her systems including weapons, flight systems and her avionic suite to make sure it was in working order with no problems. After ten minutes of checks she was satisfied and then put on her night vision goggles for night time flying. No problems there, she waited for her husband who was the pilot to board their aircraft. She looked around for him and spotted him through her night goggles. He was making sure all traces of their time here were removed.

   Again thanking the ground crew and watching them ready their small stealth boats to leave when the jet left its beach airstrip, he nodded in satisfaction. Coming over to the fighter he wiped the sand off his boots with some coconut leaves and carefully climbed aboard, strapped himself to his ejector seat and closed the large gold plated Perspex cockpit canopy. In low tones he conversed with his wife in a Dutch dialect, she replied nodding her head. Donning his night vision goggles he fastened them to his flying helmet and tested them. Happy they worked his raised them, preferring to take off by eyesight alone. Out of view from the night-lights the sky was totally black unlike the city at night he was used to where the residual light from the streetlights gave the sky an orange tint. He did his own checks and started the single RD-33D jet engine, watching his computer displays and back up steam gauges for any trouble. Seeing none he advanced the throttle to almost maximum military power and kept the brakes on. The whole airframe shook under the twelve thousand pounds of military power for several seconds, the sound would be heard miles away but by then it would be too late. Pushing the throttle into afterburner both pilots felt the extra seven thousand pounds of thrust kick in as raw fuel was fed into the engine exhaust in a tail of blue orange fire.

   Inside the cockpit the noise was a low rumble felt through the rocking aircraft rather than physically heard. He released the brakes and the jet surged forwards on after burner straight on to her take off run. No taxiing out of the trees on normal power, the beech runway had already been measured out and prepared with water based chemicals to harden the sand for the take off run by the nine ton fighter. G-force pushed them both back into their seats and speed rapidly built up, numbers headily climbing on the Head Up Display and computer screens. The male pilot held his joystick like his wife held his cock, firmly. Feeling the air bite on the long slender wings he gently raised the nose to allow their flight to begin, kicked along by a full afterburner into the dark sky. Then the main wheels were free and they were flying, airborne and no longer a prisoner of the ground. Killing the afterburner he turned onto a north easterly heading and the flight to the Burmese coast, a straight-line distance of two hundred and twenty miles from their small island base.

   Descending low over the smooth ocean he brought the power back to cruise setting to conserve fuel. He could have taken off without the very visible afterburner but he thought it somewhat fitting to start the mission that way. Worth the extra fuel burn. At twenty metres he levelled off and plotted their course on his navigation computer screen marking several waypoints or changes of direction to their first target. Keeping their radar in standby he used the plane’s infrared vision system to navigate with by feeding the images through his wide angle HUD and as a back up his centre multi function display computer screen. Satisfied he could see many miles ahead he sat back and flew their warplane. Radar gave extra range than infrared but there was a chance anyone listening could pick up their radar emissions, even though it was an advanced set. Infrared was totally passive and ideal for night time navigation and flying. For minutes they flew under the star-studded sky where the Milky Way arced distantly far overhead, a wonderful view. Deciding to use his night vision goggles he flew with one hand and carefully lowered the unit into position, clicking them on he was rewarded with a view even clearer than his warplane’s own infrared equipment. The ocean was a flat line, mirror smooth against the sky, which now looked green with millions of bright dots. These were the stars, giving a view like daylight. Quite something! He used the intercom to tell his lady of the wondrous view. She clicked her mike twice acknowledging her man. She was busy feeding in weapon co-ordinates into the missiles and doing her systems checks, in-between looking out for ships on their route that could spot them. Up to now there were none.

***

   Back on the island the night lights were turned off and placed in one of the speed boats, the aircraft tyre tracks were swept over and all traces were removed. Quietly the electric stealth boats left the small-uninhabited island that served as a one-time airbase for the mission, leaving no clue to what had gone down there. Each tanned oriental opened his cotton bundle and smiled in the dim lights of the quiet boats. Their rewards were paid in thin leaves of gold and platinum, a value equal to a lifetime’s wages for them. The pilot kept his word and paid well.

***

   In the jet that cruised over the dark waters at 400 knots, the lady pilot spotted a shape rising above the sea giving off a heat trace eight miles ahead. A small vessel, maybe a fishing boat or more likely a Burmese Navy spy ship dressed up as a fishing boat or even a coastal patrol vessel. It was right on their path and while the mile count unwound their options faded away. A quick violent turn would take them out of visual range against the dark sky lit by starlight but their engine would be heard on the boat. There was no choice except fly overhead and be spotted, thus giving the mainland defences time to prepare and go on alert for the low level intruder. No, the only real option to maintain secrecy was to sink the boat but was it a fishing boat or a spy ship or patrol vessel? The pilot looked through his night vision goggles and saw the faint dot coming towards them with a heat source that was the engines. Swapping to the warplane’s own sensors he focused on it trying to make out details. Yes it was larger than a fishing boat, around one hundred and seventy five foot long with a gun up front and some smaller kit on the aft deck. And radar and radio aerials near the bridge. We’ve got to sink her! She was a short-range vessel so it meant they were less than a hundred miles out.

   “Okay babe, lock her up and pass control to me. Keep our radar in standby by. We’ll hit her with the cannons and target her with infrared. Please give me a laser range read out and lock the guns up for me,” he said to his lady pilot.

   “I’m on it my love, setting you up for guns attack now. I’ll get the laser to ping the boat every millisecond. Even if they have laser warning gear they’ll be on the ocean floor before they can react. Okay you’re ready, all yours.” 

   “Thanks my dear, here we go.”

   She brought a set of cross hairs up on the infrared display, locked onto the gunboat and pinged it with the laser to get range readout. Selecting guns on her weapons computer display the weapon girl passed control to her rear seat pilot. On his Head Up Display a cross was marked over the dark outline of the gun boat with its lighter white area where the engine was. Two or three white blobs on deck were crewmembers. Shifting the target cross to the bridge he moved his finger to the trigger on the control stick to open fire at one mile and sink the motherfucker. A missile was too valuable on some rusty tin can. Creeping down with sudden speed the range readout passed the two-mile mark and the laser brought up an accurate range reading. Almost in range, now! He pressed the “tit,” the red gun button on the front of his joystick. Below them the twin barrel 23mm cannon fired both barrels, sending spumes of shells out to the hidden ship in the dark night. Their ammo wasn’t tracer so it was invisible to the naked eye but visible briefly on infrared. Cannon muzzle flashes were also visible. If anyone saw it was too late. High explosive and armour piercing shells cut into the boat piercing the hull with ease. Several members of her crew were killed outright or blown overboard by an explosion when a small boat exploded on the stern, shells hit the bridge killing the Captain and officer on watch, more smashed into the small radio room wiping out the comms gear and radars. Yawing his rudders to the left the pilot hit the hot spot of the engine just before they flew over the damaged boat. A quick impression of dancing flashes and flying debris filled his vision as they shot past, pulling up to miss the superstructure of the boat and levelling off again. She wouldn’t sink immediately; if the cannon shell holes weren’t plugged or any fires put out she was doomed. It was unclear if the damage was fatal but she was out of action and never fired a single shot at the stealth warplane, nor even spotted it, such was its high technology. Roughly half of their cannon ammo had been used on the gunboat, worth it to disable it and keep their presence secret. Only in daylight and if it was still afloat would assistance come to the drifting engineless vessel.

   Gently changing direction he flew a new course and felt his adrenaline surge through his body. He congratulated his lady for her help and skill in setting him up for the guns attack on the navy vessel. She acknowledged him and announced the coast was thirty miles away and that she spotted two more small boats. These were definitely fishing boats due to their small size and lack of radio aerials and listening devices. She set a course between both boats and her pilot took it, changing direction again and reducing speed to three hundred to reduce their heat signature and engine noise level. Ghosting past they went to full alert ready for anything, be it more patrol vessels, coastal based ground to air missiles or the small likelihood of any patrolling enemy fighter planes. One could never be too complacent. A dark mass approached, broached by a white line, the surf hitting the shoreline backed up by a hundred foot cliff. Pulling up sharply they rose over the cliff and were feet dry, heading to their first land based target – the most secret Burmese nuclear research facility hidden and secret beyond belief from everyone except them. They knew where it was, as did the nuclear tipped Saffron anti tank missiles equipped with a slight warhead modification. There wouldn’t be a malfunction in the first weapon and they were pros so had a back up if the designated one didn’t launch or missed. Were they about to start a war or end it?

   Thoughts cascaded in his head while he piloted their jet on course ready for what was to come. “To protect and defend with all and every means at ones disposal but does that include offensive missions totally deniable in a nuclear strike fighter armed with nuclear arms? Crossing the threshold if it actually stops the enemy from gaining a nuclear release? Are we justified to act so offensively in nuclear combat if it’s actually a defensive measure? For in total war there is no mercy even before the commencement of hostilities…” 

   Beep! Beep! Beep! Oh fuck, enemy radar had gained skin paint on them. How was that possible? They were a hundred feet above the jungle and rolling hills of the coastal area, it must be on a hill and triangulated with a couple of other units. Time to jam the fuck out of them. “Ok my love bring the jammers online and jam their asses, they know we’re here but not exactly where. Go to full power and feed in subtle frequency changes so they can’t track us by our jamming location.”

   “I’m on it my love. You going to launch on them?” his demure love answered tuning their jammer in and making it active. Powerful agile beams of deceiving jamming waves blinded the enemy radars giving false readings and filling the screens with snow.

   “No not just yet, not if our jamming works as advertised. Okay… where are we in relation to their secret nuke base?” 

   “Coming up on the nose eighteen miles away. I’d expect missile launches any minute. Ah there! And there… at two and twelve o’clock, enemy missiles launched. Looks like ballistic, they have no lock on us!” she hurriedly replied, breathing heavily.

   “Right we’re on target and the weapon is armed. I see the missiles, no danger to us. Am pulling up ready to launch and then will turn to starboard onto our new course away from the blast,” the rear seat pilot announced, checking his displays and keying in information. “Be ready for our launch, turn and any more enemy missiles.”

   “Okay,” from the girl in the front seat.

   “Three, two, ONE! Missile away! Here we go!” screamed her lover as he climbed their jet fifty more feet to give their port missile clearance when it dropped free and lit up its rocket engine. He yanked their jet into a tight right turn, pushing their single throttle to max power without afterburner. Acceleration was instant, coupled with the gravity in the turn bringing a grey out but in no way dangerous.

   “That was bright! The rocket motor,” commented the oriental girl, adjusting her night vision goggles from the glare of the first missile. She checked her systems. Telemetry data linked from the missile showed it was on course and rapidly closing on target at supersonic speed. It would be some flash when it went off, best be ready!

   “Let’s get out of here! All hell will break loose in a minute!” whispered her man, watching more inaccurate enemy missiles launch from the dark jungle into the starry sky. They know we are here but not where, he mussed.

   “Our missile looks good, almost on target. Get ready. Now!” she confirmed, before every thing changed forever. He clicked his mike in response and concentrated on flying the jet, turning their radar set on from standby now their enemy was alert.

   In a huge white flash with the touch of God the single converted missile whooshed down onto the hidden camouflaged entrance of the secret nuclear facility. Protected by a massive two foot thick steel blast door with an outer foot of painted concrete, the base was proof against most weapons but not nuclear. The missile smashed into the door, slightly left of centre, piercing the fake rock and a foot of steel before its velocity was reduced. Sensors and accelerometers sensed this and detonated the weapon, vaporising the door, the air in the tunnel and rock walls of the tunnel. A wave of pure plasma whooshed into the base killing, wrecking and causing a small chain reaction with the single Burmese nuclear reactor and four small tactical weapons being worked on. Destruction was total with not a living soul emerging from underneath the crater which had once been two miles of winding tunnels and underground rooms. Mission kill number one had been achieved. The blast wave buffeted the stealth warplane with a gentle caress as they sped away from their destruction.

   “Whoa yeah! We did it! Fuckin’ ace!” whooped the western pilot.

   “Yes my love we did, a definite kill. Nothing will be coming out of there now,” she quietly said, checking their cameras were getting all this.

   “Did we record it okay?

   “Yes my dear, you got to see it. Quite something, already the mushroom cloud is three miles high and climbing.”

   “I can see it in my mirror and reflecting over the jungle, it looks like day back there. I can see without my goggles. I’ve had to adjust them…”

   More missiles rose into the air ahead of them, all missing. Behind them no more missiles were fired, the launching units were either destroyed or shorted out by the blast. Time for target number two. Patching more info into their navigation system they got ready. She re-programmed their second weapon for its target. It wasn’t been needed before the first weapon worked as advertised being shoved down the throat of the Burmese military. Their radar screen had remained blank but now several dots came into view, all unidentified but ID’d as Burmese Air Force Mig 29 jet fighters by their compressor blade configuration. Three planes climbing up visible on infrared like slowly ascending comets.

   “Three enemy jet fighters, Mig 29s by the radar data, closing from starboard. Ten miles and closing. They haven’t seen us yet. Shall I lock them up for you? Medium or short range weapon?” queried the girl in front, her fingers locking up the enemy jets.

   “Short range, I want to make this personal. We’ll take two with missiles and the last with guns,” replied her pilot in a steely confident warrior voice. His finger clicked short range on his control stick, his eyes monitored his computers for any problems; there were none. Changing course slightly he arrowed their jet toward the enemy Migs. Counting down in his head he fired first the portside Brightstar heat seeking close range missile and then the second. The enemy jets must have got lucky and seen the glare of the rocket motors because they turned as one away from the advancing jet and two even faster missiles. It was no use. The first missile connected with the outer Mig 29 and exploded behind the cockpit killing the pilot and destroying the aircraft. The blast was dim in comparison with the rapidly climbing nuclear mushroom cloud and burning jungle, now a firestorm. Almost immediately the second weapon blew up underneath the other turning jet blowing a wing off and spinning the plane out of control. The pilot ejected and survived his encounter with an unknown assailant.

   One Mig remained and it wanted revenge. Its radar came alive looking for the attacker but found nothing, it looked for them on infrared and saw nothing. His equipment was old and not a 5th gen system. He fired two short-range missiles blindly hoping for a lucky hit, all he did was to illuminate his position. His weapons flew four miles and exploded when their motors burnt out harmlessly.

   Arcing his stealth warplane around for a gun run the pilot clicked guns on his stick and told his weapons girl he was going in close to nail the last enemy with 23mm gunfire. Good as his word he watched the enemy jet turn and arc up in a climb, following it in his night vision goggles, patiently waiting for the distance to go under one mile. Now! A single press and twenty shells shot out and connected in a fine line with the third Burmese AF Mig. It was hit in the main fuel tank, exploding like a huge firework, so much for armoured self-sealing protection!

   “That’s three kills my love. How are we doing for cannon ammo?” he asked.

   “Just over eighty shells left my dear, good shooting!” she answered with a smile.

   “It’s not just me my dear, we’re a team remember? A very good one. Okay now, what direction to our second target?”

   “Erm… come around and steer 284 degrees and fly for five minutes at four hundred and fifty knots. That will take you into our missile launch area. I’ve already programmed the target location. I love you Nick!” she whispered.

   “Thanks my dear. Am on it now, be ready for anything. And I love you too Vaanya,” confirmed Nick, his commitment to his lady and their mission was total. He wouldn’t back out not even for a second. Nick reefed their warplane onto their heading and slowed to attack speed. Behind them in the jungle a huge fire roared out of control underneath a cooling mushroom cloud. A single fleeing pilot faced death by fire under the rapidly advancing firestorm.

   Far over the horizon tracer shells arced into the heavens on long silvery trails visible by the naked eye and on night vision equipment, bigger flak bursts showed where exploding heavy shells hit nothing. Individual missiles zoomed skywards chasing their own shadow, pretty detonations graced the heavens boosting the morale of their firers. A ring of steel protected the second secret facility but they were naked if they couldn’t locate their deadly enemy. Word spread all over Burma of multiple nuclear explosions and at least ten enemy jets coming from all points of the compass, attacking.

   This facility was a biological weapon lab buried underneath a mountain. One hit and the whole mountain would come crashing down entombing anyone who outlived the initial two hundred kiloton explosion. With their radar and jammers on standby both pilots now felt anxious, they needed all the surprise and luck to crack this nut. Slowly the streams of tracer and explosions came closer. The outer edge of the defensive gun belt was still ten miles away from the mountain base. Their weapon had a max range of twenty so it was time to launch; cunningness was the order of the day.

   “I’m going to launch out of range of their guns and missiles, we don’t want to risk a lucky shot on their part. I’ll snap roll and fire from upside down, lofting the weapon so it climbs and comes down at an angle to the mountainside. When it goes off the blast will seal the entrances and bring the mountain down on top of them. Ok here goes!”  Nick said in a gruff voice, studying his Head Up Display and infrared image.

   “Good technique. Don’t miss. I want our second to be a direct hit like the first,” Vaanya commented, double-checking her switches and screens.

   “Take you shot, it’s all in the green.”

   “Here we go!”

   Nick shoved the controls over violently and felt his world whirl quickly in three dimensions, almost forgetting to fire the missile but he did so when their wings were well past the angle. It was okay – just. The kick back from the second weapon almost sent their jet crashing into the jungle. Both Nick and Vaanya corrected and brought the dizzy almost uncontrolled roll under control. Already two miles away and climbing the second nuclear missile was on target and on the way.

   “What were you saying hot shot?” laughed Vaanya, chastising Nick for his screwed up snap roll.

   “Yes, I could have done that better. I need more practise on that manoeuvre,” Nick sheepishly answered, knowing his pagan bride was correct.

   “Anyhow, I’m turning onto our new heading. You can fly for a bit, I need to relax after that close call. Okay we’re on heading. Are you ready?”

   “Yes I’m ready to take control,” she confirmed.

   “Okay you have control.”

   “I have control.”

   Just as before a huge nuclear explosion almost blinded the couple but they were ready for it. Vaanya flew them away from the danger area and Nick monitored the infrared displays and periodically looked out of the cockpit in the dark areas of sky where any enemy Migs could be hiding. There were none, yet. To their left a huge cataclysm filled the sky changing the very geography of the jungle. In a small earthquake the one thousand foot high mountain collapsed, burying the remains of the biological lab and its evil toxins and viruses forever. In a few minutes, Burma had lost her nuclear and biological weapon programs. Nick checked the computer and saw that the cameras were filming all of the nuclear destruction. He clicked send on his display and data linked the footage back to their secret support base and to three other widely separated locations so the footage was safe from interception.  

   “Where is our next target Vaanya?” 

   “The military junta, who right now will be in their underground bunker. See the co-ordinates on the map screen Nick?”

   “I’ve got them. You want to fly us there?”

   “Yes I will fly us there, I need the combat time. Do you know how to program the two anti radar weapons for ground penetration?” Vaanya asked making sure Nick knew the procedure.

   “Yes I do. I’ll do it and then you can double check for me. Shame we couldn’t get more than two nuclear anti tank weapons,” he commented, keying in data for the last two air to ground weapons. They hadn’t needed them for any dangerous tracking missile radars, so they could be used on the main military bunker where the junta leadership were holed up. A nuke would finish them off forever, this would just scare them. Not necessarily a bad thing. In the future, war criminal trials could be planned and carried out after a second mission snatched the key leaders. That was for another day.

   “I’ve programmed the info in, would you please check it over for me? You want me to take back control for a minute?”

   “I’ll check them now. Okay take control now. You got it?”

   “Yes I have control. Thanks babe.”

   She swiftly checked her lover’s work, it was fine. She could program faster but he did fine. Vaanya was very highly skilled in weapons use and less in piloting so she needed the pilot time, especially in combat. She told Nick his data input was excellent and took over control, changing direction to head for the leadership bunker to try to kill or injure the Burmese top Generals and military leaders who had so much blood on their hands. On the digital computer map the way showed up like a long winding ribbon with several direction changes; she stuck to it like glue. A countdown timer wound down and Nick monitored everything: Vaanya’s flight performance, the aircraft systems and the sky outside. He glanced now and again at the two mushroom clouds and fires in the jungle, now many miles distant, in case an attacker came form that direction – unlikely but possible. Nothing was visible. Just before they launched their anti radar missiles in ground attack mode, he would turn the radar on and ready their last two missiles, the medium range fire and forget Axehead missiles. Nick wanted to use every weapon before heading to Thailand and safety.

   “Nearly there. You want to launch the missiles or shall I?”  Nick asked.

   “I’ll do it while I fly. Please check that I do it correctly,” Vaanya requested.

  “Yes I will guide you through it, no trouble. Right get ready the computer is counting down. Use the steam gauge clock on your display panel to back it up should the computers fail. Our back up systems is there just for that reason.”

   “I’m bringing the radar online. Now get ready. Five, four, three, two, one. Press the launch button two times now. A second apart so the computer knows it’s a double launch of two separate weapons.”

   “Doing it now. One away, two away. The exhaust is bright for such a small weapon!” she hurriedly said, almost overwhelmed by her actions.

   “That was fine, now change direction. A violent move would be fine but do a nice smooth turn to port and steer 340 degrees. I’ll monitor the weapons. You did fine my love,” Nick congratulated his wife. Now she was no longer a battle virgin, she had launched two powerful missiles at their enemy.

   Nick took control and headed them down into the weeds and out of danger. Six missiles rose from jungle launch areas, all missing and not getting a lock on. A distant explosion echoed over the trees showing twin near simultaneous impact of the twin rockets. Did they pierce the bunker and harm the military leaders? Time would tell. Now armed with only two medium range missiles and a few cannon rounds they were solely rigged for air combat. Their internal fuel was almost gone it was time to switch to their single belly drop tank. Why didn’t I use this first and drop it for less drag, wondered Nick? He talked this over with his wife and she agreed that next time they should use that first and then internal fuel; due to the excitement of battle both overlooked it.

   Now it almost cost them their life: a single Mig 29 followed them by infrared, just about picking up their engine heat signature. Pinging the Kahlia Akasha jet once with his laser range finder to get the range, he slowly closed to eight miles and launched two radar guided missiles then four miles on afterburner and fired four short-range weapons. Two things happened at once. The laser-warning receiver went off once and then was silent and Vaanya saw the flare of distant missiles and screamed in terror. She forcibly grabbed Nick’s joystick and pulled it back while shoving the throttle forward. Her crazy move saved their lives and their aircraft form a fiery end. When their jet pitched upwards two large radar guided missiles coasted past where they had been. So close was the range that a hit would have registered even though they weren’t locked on, they flew several more miles and exploded in huge flashes. Nick pressed the chaff and flare button, swearing angrily that he hadn’t set the dispenser system to automatic. His second fuck up. Bright magnesium flares spilled out into the darkness decoying two heat seeking missiles, one missile missed and the fourth homed in on the faint heat from their jet engine. Vaanya half rolled into a tight turn using up the last of their airspeed in an attempt to out fly the missiles. She almost made it but the heat seeker turned the corner and exploded four metres from the Kahlia Akasha jet with wicked consequences. A large orange flash and a blast wave rocked their delicate stealth warplane like a giant hand gripping them, sending shrapnel reaching out. Metallic clangs and rattles indicated they were hit but not how bad. Nick screamed in agony from the rear cockpit and his lady pushed the nose down to avoid stalling. Warning lights filled her display panel and two computer screens shorted out; the third flickered and froze uselessly. A warning horn sounded and “Bitching betty” chimed up: “Danger aircraft is damaged, check critical systems and prepare to eject. Warning fire hazard, prepare to eject!”

   Vaanya desperately tried to save their crippled jet but it was a losing battle, she shouted for Nick. “Nick, Nick! Are you okay? Answer me babe! We’ve been hit. What do I do? Nick answer me! Are you all right?”

   Nick was out cold and bleeding badly from several serious shrapnel wounds. His plastic canopy was holed in half a dozen places and his computers were down, he was out of the fight. What must she do? Eject them both and hope they were not captured by the Burmese military? Crash land in a jungle clearing, at night without working infrared systems? Yes I’ll do this, I still have my night vision goggles on and they work, thought Vaanya. She was peering down at the dark jungle for a clearing to force land on when she was jerked back to hideous reality. A stream of cannon shells grazed her right wingtip. She had forgotten about their attacker and assumed he had left them for dead! He wanted to finish them off! What weapons do we have left? Some cannon ammo and any missiles? Shit, what missiles are left? Can’t tell coz the computers are down, did we use them all up our air-to-air weapons, did we? Yes, I think we have two radar missiles left but they can’t be cued for launch due to our avionics being fucked. Our radar is down so I’ll have to launch them by point and shoot if I can line up on that Mig. Hell what was that? The engine is misfiring and cutting out.

   Little did Vaanya know that their belly drop tank was leaking precious fuel from a single shrapnel hole. In two minutes their jet engine would stall due to fuel starvation. Where’s that damn Mig? Turning in a circle she attempted to spot her enemy on night vision goggles. All she saw was stars and distant fires from their previous attacks. There! A moving black dot with a light on it that would be him! Several miles away and looks like he’s coming in again for another gun attack, probably his last. After that he will ram me, knew Vaanya. Such was the desperation of her attacker. She flew forwards for a minute allowing him to get closer; he was moving close to six hundred knots. She was doing barely four hundred when her engine coughed once and was silent. Her remaining displays and lights went out, no power. He closed the gap instantly. She saw flashes from his cannon and turned into his attack using her last airspeed to nail him. She pressed the trigger twice and her two remaining missiles speared forth towards the Mig, then without waiting she fired her remaining 23mm cannon ammo blindly hoping for a hit. Just then 30mm shells from the Mig smashed into her right wing blowing big pieces off and setting the fumes in the fuel tank on fire. Reaching down she pulled her ejection handle and punched her and Nick out of their doomed fighter. Vaanya was aware of a huge noise and awful acceleration when her ejection seat left their aircraft. She passed out and came to under her parachute. Disorientated, she panicked wondering where she was and why wasn’t she in her aircraft with her husband Nick? Then she realised, they’d been shot down! By a Burmese Air Force Mig 29. Where was Nick, was he okay? I know he’s hurt but how badly? Did he eject okay? Where is he?

   Her night goggles had been ripped off in the violent ejection and her neck hurt badly due to the strain. Struggling to look down she saw two patches of jungle on fire, must be our aircraft and the Mig. So much for making it to Thailand and safety, I thought we were invincible. Shit! Jungle coming up got to make sure I’m not snagged in the trees or I’m fucked. Here we go I’m going in!

   Trees snarled the parachute slowing her descent violently knocking the wind out of her. She grabbed at branches to avoid plummeting to the ground, unsure how high up she was. The last thing she wanted to do was break her legs and be stranded here in pain. Finally she stopped falling and held onto a branch. Struggling to free her chute she cut one harness that wouldn’t unfasten with her combat knife. Finally free she took five minutes to relax and calm her breathing down. She wanted to remove her chute but it was firmly entangled in the upper branches, it would be visible in daylight from the sky. Through a gap in the leaves she saw dawn faintly visible in the sky. She had to get down from this tree and try to find Nick and then use her Escape and Evasion training. Fuck, I never thought I’d be doing this for real! Climbing down the tree was quite easy. She was only ten metres from the jungle floor rather than fifty.

   Checking her gear she noticed she had a pistol and three clips of ammo, survival rations for a week, a small radio which she wouldn’t turn it on yet in case they traced her signal, a small metal signal mirror and other things. Feeling her body for any cuts or injuries she was relieved to find none. With Nick it would be a different matter she was sure. She would look for him but where was he? The trees were everywhere and he must be stuck in the tops like she was. She held her knife in her left hand in case she came across any enemy soldiers, any wild animals or to cut away any jungle in her path. Her gun would be a last resort; a gunshot would carry for miles in the jungle. Looking around and walking slowly she tried to find Nick, peering up into the darkness she could only see a few feet. Minutes passed and she sat down exhausted from the flight, battle and ejection. Taking her water bottle she sipped enough to wet her mouth and wake her up. She didn’t know how long she would need the water. Getting to her feet with difficulty she continued looking for an hour but didn’t find Nick or his chute or ejection seat. Riskily trying the radio to see if she could reach him brought no reply. He must be unconscious or worse. Vaanya didn’t want to think about that but she had to find her love. Quickly sending a distress message to base, she wondered when their rescue mission would come for her. How far was it to the Thai border? Would she have to walk it alone? There were no allied natives in this area; all had been cleared out by the army sometime ago. Not even anyone she could force to help at gunpoint.

   Daylight now filled the eastern sky, this would make her track through the jungle easier and also looking for Nick but her enemy could easily find her too. She was about to give Nick up as lost when she found him hanging in a tree. For a minute she wasn’t aware of what she was looking at then it dawned on her! There was her Nick! She ran over to him or the tree he was stuck up and tried to climb up. It must be fifteen metres up! With great difficulty she made it up after ten long minutes of struggle and strife, cutting her face on thorny branches. She held her knife in her mouth to cut him free and checked him over best she could. Blood was everywhere both dry and fresh. An awful wound on his leg looked bad, bloody holes in his flight suit showed more injuries. Checking his pulse on his neck she got no response, it could be very faint. He was out cold and non-responsive to her voice and touch. Everything she did was of no use. It didn’t look good it looked like he was… dead! Holding her knife she cut the first strap and felt his body jerk downwards, held in place by the last strap. She cut the last one and Nick’s lifeless form tumbled earthwards like a sack of potatoes.

   “I’m sorry Nick! It’s the only way,” Vaanya said when Nick thudded to the ground fifty feet below. Slowly she climbed down to his body. If he wasn’t dead before he was now! She carefully checked him over; the fall had broken his left leg. If he was unconscious before that would have woken him up. His chest injuries looked like the kind that was fatal. Unzipping his flight suit she lifted up his clothing and gasped in shock, the wound covered a quarter of his chest and was matted with blood. Nick must have died very shortly after being hit. Shit! I’m a widow now and stuck in this awful jungle, I don’t believe this shit! She wanted to scream but that would alert any nearby army patrols. I’ll try to bury him, she thought, taking her combat knife and scraping at the ground. Tree roots and leaves hindered her progress making her finally give up. She removed his dog tags, secret paperwork, pistol with ammo and his knife and then placed leaves and fallen branches on his body hoping to make it harder for anyone to find. She couldn’t even booby-trap it with a grenade because she had none, just her gun. Taking her small GPS receiver out she got a fix of her location and of the body and worked out a route to walk to Thailand. With that sorted she used her button compass mounted in the handle of her knife to navigate by, she held the pistol in her other hand. Vaanya was taking no chances. My grief for Nick can wait, I’ve got to save myself and get out of this awful jungle and escape Burma alive. They’ll want me dead after what I did to them, shit I’ve got to be strong and get my head together. Nick would want me to live and escape in one piece, no time for self-pity now. I’ve got a ten-day march through virgin jungle and that’s if I don’t get lost, have an accident or get caught. I’ll see if my E and E training works.

   Vaanya didn’t see the native guide who slowly and carefully tracked her. He led a Burmese Army patrol and stumbled across her parachute by accident. Patiently the tracker formed a plan to cut her off and lay an ambush for the single survivor from the air crash. No guns would be used, just knives and machetes to capture her alive, if possible. It was okay to injure her but not kill her. Radioing the patrol he suggested a plan of action. He would be well rewarded for this act by his military leaders when the girl was caught, oh yes…