"Assist appreciated, Excalibur One." Everett said, immediately feeling the relief of not having to worry about an enemy fighter on their tail. Looking up and to the right, he spotted the last Tu-95 climbing to altitude while opening its bomb bay doors. It did not take too much imagination on Everett's part to visualize just what would happen to RAF Lossiemouth should the bomber be allowed to drop its deadly payload. "Excalibur Four has last bogey. We'll take it down with everything we've got." He said and flicked off his radio to talk to Zola. "Use whatever you want. As long as the target's burning and not bombing, I'm happy."

"Honestly, did you really think you have to tell me that?" Zola asked with a chuckle, shaking her head. "Just get us on a steady course and I'll take care of the rest."

"I'm serious. No 'maybe's, 'if's or 'perhaps's. That bomber has to be as dead as dead can be." Everett said and turned their aircraft to initiate an attack run on the Tu-95. "How are we on weapons?"

"Sufficient," Zola replied simply and switched to the Fencer's R-77 radar-guided missiles. With no other fighters in the air, it would be a piece of cake for Everett to keep them on a straight and level flight, and the R-77s were a lot harder to fool than the R-74s. If Everett wanted the bomber as dead as dead could be, then Zola was only all too happy to deliver. The slow and lumbering bomber did not stand a chance once it was within range of the Fencer. "Firing," Zola reported and pressed twice on the trigger. Two missiles streaked towards the bomber, one after the other. Without missing a beat, Zola swapped to the R-74 and upon getting a solid lock, fired that as well.

Everett kept the Fencer flying straight towards the bomber, and just as they were about to enter cannon range, the three missiles struck the Tu-95. The first two missiles struck the fuselage and the third struck an engine, sealing the bomber's fate. It was on fire and going down, but that was not good enough for Everett. At its current position and low angle of glide, there was a chance that it would still crash into the airbase with its bombs still on board. "Zola, fire guns. I'll try to get us a shot at the bombs. Chances are that they're armed and ready to go."

"Man, you sure want that bomber dead. I almost feel sorry for the crew." Zola said with a shake of her head. "Guns armed."

"Right," Everett muttered and adjusted their heading to follow the stricken bomber. He dove underneath it and pitched up, allowing them both a clear view of the bombs still hanging from their pylons. 

"Firing," Zola said and fired several bursts into the bomb bay. The first few did nothing and Everett was almost prepared to give up the pursuit, but then a few cannon shells scored direct hits on the bombs themselves and that did the trick. They exploded and ripped the Tu-95 to pieces; the shockwave was so powerful that the stall alarms in the Fencer blared for a moment as it streaked past the air where the Tu-95 was previously.

Everett let out a long breath. He felt no enjoyment from killing the last bomber, it was perhaps even overkill, but it had to be done. The explosion itself told him that the bombs were armed and allowing the wreck to crash into RAF Lossiemouth was as good as letting the bomber do its job, if not worse. Still, Everett could not bring himself to celebrate destroying a stricken aircraft. It was like shooting a dying man. "Excalibur Four splash last bogey." He reported after a few seconds of silence.