There were a few comments on the task to come, but as Ariella had expected, the others were aware of what the mission would require, and were prepared to do their part. 
As such, they were headed in on course, the coastline visible as a dark band on the horizon as they crept ever closer. 

Being aware of the mission was one thing - taking it on was another. Her concentration was consumed by that, and by the specifics coming up as she kept the jet on a straight-and-narrow heading toward the Libyan coast. Already, she was aware of height-and-range finding radars sweeping the skies, the Kfirs' instruments reading the seeking radio waves.
Rolling her shoulders and flexing her gloved hands on the instruments, the Israeli pilot took a long breath of air in her mask as the land began to resolve itself - before the radio burst to life with another message.
"Excalibur one, this is Central. Please be advised, we have an update to your mission. Other Avalon aircraft will be joining you on exfil. They'll be available to cover you upon your exit from the operational area. They'll be drawing off the enemy air on your departure from the airspace, leaving you to make a fast exit. They would've been with you sooner, but weather conditions and local problems at their location forced delays in departure. However, they will be joining you and squawking friendly, over"
Ariella muttered a few choice words at the surprise interruption, before toggling the transmit button in reply. 
"Roger that, Central. We are to expect friendlies from Avalon on our exit leg from the airspace, confirm, over?"
"Yes, that's right. Also, be advised that long-distance readings indicate an unusual amount of comm traffic in the interior of the country, and a number of high-band radars in operation. We've also been monitoring a lot of IR emissions. It shouldn't interfere with your mission, but maintain awareness, over"
"Roger," she replied hesitantly. "Excalibur one, out".
She tapped her index finger on the throttle in thought. The help was great news, but the increased radar, radiation and chatter had her mind ticking over. Could the enemy be on to them? What did this mean? While sounding nearly useless, the advice from the orbiting AWACS was right: being aware of their situation would be the only thing to help them out in the end. Hitting the toggle to change to the unit frequency, she began to drop altitude as they neared the coastline.
"Listen up, team - slight amendment to our plan. Friendlies will be joining us to provide air cover on the exit leg from hostile airspace. I've also been advised that we might be expected, so keep your eyes and ears sharp, and stand ready for patrols or other hostile action before we stir up trouble. It might be nothing - maybe we just caught them running a test or an exercise. But whatever it is, it doesn't do to get caught short. Heads on a swivel, team".
The words said, she dropped another hundred feet, until the desert scrub was rocketing past only two hundred feet below the delta-wing jets' belly. Slight nudges of the stick were enough to gently rise and fall with the terrain and structures below, all of which flashed past. The Initial Point - IP - for the mission was rolling up on the HUD projected inside her visor, and she kept an eye on the two icons representing the recon aircraft of the group. Any moment now they'd rise in altitude, and she blast out ECM 'music' from her plane, giving them a chance to carry out their recon mission.
"Stand by, stand by..." she said evenly, with a note of rising tension and excitement in her accented voice, hand hovering over the ECM TRANSMIT switch.
[I]"Mark![/i]" she called, and jabbed one finger into the button, snap rolling to give the others clearance, and spread out the targets over the enemies' scopes. 
"Go baby go," she muttered, willing the recon planes to be safe for the precious minutes it would take them to do their job.