[center][h1][color=#4682B4]Scott 'Heartbreak' Valentine - Cobalt Leader[/color][/h1][/center]

The Aqua-tailed Titan being hounded by Amelia and Ximena had no chance. Between them, the two women had pushed and pulled the Silent Eagle and it's pilot into the corner. Ximena danced her Sea Raptor out of the way of the laser, a move that goaded the enemy pilot to chase the plucky sinomexican into another shot, only to have one of Jefe's pair of missiles as a return for their troubles. At the same instant, Calico let fly with a trio her her own.
Bracketed by both planes and with [i]five[/i] air-to-air missiles bearing down on them, there was really no avoiding it. The Titan pilot was no quitter, and they pulled to try and gain altitude, heeling into-
Before they could even complete the maneuver, the first of the three R-73's detonated, the close proximity fuse showering the belly of the Silent Eagle with blazing shrapnel. The second plowed home moments later, and the third arrived at the same instant as Ximena's missiles. The F-15 was obliterated, the machine and pilot alike so thoroughly obliterated by the successive hammering of explosions that it was spread out square miles of the suburbs in a shower of fragments that looked like a brief, if heavy meteor shower.

With all the Titan's down or ejected and no further bandits in the air, the squadron had got themselves some breathing room - however brief it might be. 
Stingray hitting the SAM site removed another obstacle, and finally the picture was clear, the AWACS voice coming over the squadron channel to confirm they were in the clear for the meantime as the Libyans were regrouping and rushing planes to the area. 
[color=#4682B4]"Cobalt One to all aircraft, move to the next target. Targets are the [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tupolev_Tu-22]Tu-22[/url] bombers and any other strike aircraft and their support facilities at Mitiga. We're looking to stop them from being able to target the NUN fleet with long-range anti-ship missiles. As soon as we deliver our payloads, we go low and head north at max speed to exfiltrate back to Malta, over"[/color]
Orders delivered, Scott nudged the Harrier back on course to the east, and the waypoint for Mitiga International Airport, their second target. The AWACS operator aboard the E-2D Hawkeye was already advising them of SAM and surface-to-air radar around the airport, but not nearly as dense as that around Tripoli. There was a significant amount of movement on the ground that the Hawkeyes' powerful APY-9 radar was picking up, showing that the Libyans were already expecting something. 
[color=#4682B4]"Anyone with ground ordnance left; target the bombers and then bug out. No hanging around, no dogfights - we go in and out clean and fast. Dump any remaining air-to-ground stuff on the target, and then out over the ocean toward home. We delay any longer, and they'll be all over us. We already gave 'em a bloody nose, now we make it stick, and get out in one piece, over"[/color]
As Scott's aircraft closed in, the airport was laid out below. Winking lights of AA fire flashed from emplaced guns and mobile vehicles, brief sights as he closed in at high speed. 
Of more note were the sleek shapes of the Tu-22 [i]Blinder[/i] bombers. They looked almost like sleek, predatory fish, or rocket-ships from a 1950's pulp-era serial, gleaming silver under the moonlight. Several were parked up on the apron, while others were slowly taxiing to the end of the runway, where one was holding, navigation lights blinking. 
Not hesitating, Scott thumbed the weapons selector on his stick, bringing up the maverick missiles slung under the AV-8's wings. He slewed the laser on the Litening pod under the belly onto the TU-22 about to start rolling and locked on.
[color=#4682B4]"Cobalt Lead, Rifle!"[/color]
He squeezed the trigger twice rapidly, and the air-to-ground missiles flashed away, guided in by the laser's point onto the shark-like bomber. The distance was so short, that the Mavericks hit home within seconds, and the thin-skinned aircraft stood no chance. The anti-tank missiles blasted into it like thunderbolts from Zeus himself. Loaded heavily with fuel and the payload of the massive Kh-22 anti-ship missile, the bomber exploded in a gigantic fireball, the shockwave causing even more damage, blowing out windows, tossing support vehicles, and incinerating unprotected bodies. 
The AV-8B screamed over the airport at low altitude and high speed, before Scott executed a picture-perfect bank and a nose-up, reducing speed just enough to get a good laser fix on the main control tower. As soon as the point was set, he punched off the two GBU-16's, letting them sail toward the target, toggling the laser to stay on target as he rolled and smoothly banked away from the target, punching out chaff and flares as the jet insistently complained about the radars painting his jet. 
The paveways lazily soared toward the concrete tower as he moved away. The twin laser-guided bombs blasted into the middle of the tower's concrete stem, raining chunks of concrete and steel from the blossoming explosion, as flame bloomed out from the windows at the top. 
[color=#4682B4]"Cobalt Lead; targets hit. Heading for the ocean. It's all yours, guys and gals, over".[/color]

[h1][center][color=violet]Katherine 'Kitten' Kane - Cobalt 7[/color][/center][/h1]

Kat had kept her A-10 at high speed as they had transition from the area around Tripoli to Mitiga. With the speed of their combat jets and the short distance, even her comparatively slow plane moved fast enough to cover the distance in barely a few minutes. She dropped altitude and speed on the approach, heeding Scott's warnings and instructions. The big bombers gleamed under the moonlight, but she had other targets in mind. To one side, a little removed, sat the POL (petroleum, oil and lubricant) storage farm. She selected her APKWS pods and let the Litening pod under her port wing play across the tanks and maze of piping, before selecting volley fire and curling her gloved finger around the trigger. As the rockets flashed out in rapid succession, each pod alternately firing until they were empty, she fish-tailed the rudders of her plane gently, strafing the rockets in a wide pattern back-and-forth across the compound, and pulling up and banking as soon as the last rockets had left the launcher. 
Almost immediately there was a rain of explosions, and then moments later a [i]massive[/i] fireball mushroomed up from the storage area as the vaporised volatiles met the burning and superheated metal fragments, the shockwaves flattening structures and tossing nearby vehicles like cheap toys. To her satisfaction, at least one of the SAM radars went offline, and the AA fire faltered and dropped off. 
Wheeling in her bank into a tight turn, She selected her remaining cluster bombs and punched them off with a call of 'pickle' as she passed over the vehicle park, the weapons wreaking a blaze of fiery destruction as the smart submunitions targeted the parked-up service and repair vehicles and equipment, as well as tearing through thin-skinned steel outbuildings. 
Her plane shuddered and bucked as she came around, the sounds like heavy hammerblows against the A-10 as it skidded and slewed. Grimacing, she pressed her booted foot heavily on the rudder pedals, and the plane nosed back on course, and she carefully eased her stick in a few slow turns, checking the mirrors attached to her canopy rail - yep; there it was. One of the twin, rectangular vertical tails had the top edge raggedly chewed away. She gingerly eased the throttle back up, pressing her feet on the pedal to test... there was a noticeable shudder and a sluggish response, and the shuddering grew as she advanced the throttle closer to maximum speed, but it held.
[color=violet]"Cobalt 7, I've taken a hit from triple-A. Some damage to my rudders, but I've still got control of the aircraft. Should hold until we get back to base, over"[/color]

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