Scott listened in on the channel as the rest of the squadron reported their states. Everyone seemed fine, and their aircraft were in one piece.
"All right, squad. Let's RTB". He angled the flight back toward their current home base, overflying the space centre en route, retracing their earlier course. Halfway back, the radio surged to life once more, this time with the familiar voice of the AWACS from their flight to French Guiana the previous day.
"Black Knights, this is Watchman. How are you all doing today? I've been keeping a track of your operation; sorry for being late on the scene. I have good news though. The transport planes with the ground reinforcements touched down ten minutes ago. Two planes have also diverted forward for a para-drop to reinforce the Majors' forces at the front edge of the battle area. You should have them on your radar now. They'll move forward to secure the rough strip as well; it should give them a forward area to use for resupply as well. We're not currently tracking the bandits, they must have retreated for now to re-organise and re-group. We're currently evaluating intel and working on a battle plan for securing the rocket once it's ready for launch, which should be within the next twelve hours. We're anticipating the enemy will make an offensive at that point if not before, so we'll have you remain on standby once you're down, over".
"Roger, Watchman," replied Scott. "Good to have you back with us, and thanks for the update. We'll be ready and waiting. Black Knights, out".
The tranport planes carrying the paratroopers were indeed visible on the radar as they hauled past, at higher altitude than the returning combat jets. Soon after, Scot lead the line-up to land on the runway at the international airport, and it was easy to see the big shapes of the
Il-76 transports lined up on the apron, disgorging vehicles and helicopters alongside troops and their equipment onto the apron. The airport had turned into a hive of activity, as Thunderbolt Blacks' effort to reinforce the beleagured forces of the gendarmes and local military.
St. Helen whistled over the radio as Scott made a slow circle of the airport, lining up on the runway.
"Look at all that hardware; helicopters, light vehicles and armour. Not to mention all those pallets of weapons. I think they're serious about this reinforcement".
"Are you surprised? If that satellite doesn't get launched, the bad guys get to keep holding an axe over everyone's head with that kinetic-kills satellite. The more secure the launch the better."
Scott guided the super-tomcat onto the runway, and set it down with gentle ease, taxiing past the men and vehicles organizing into groups. Already, the first road convoy was shaping up to move out, boarding trucks with
Centauro tank destroyers at the front, and
light utilty vehicles and
APC's scattered throughout.
Scott pulled the ASF-14 to a halt back in the aircraft dispersal area, extending the ladder as he shut the jet down. Crews swarmed out, ready to turn the squadrons' aircraft around and push them back into the revetments around the hangars. Kat's A-10 was still tucked into the hangar, covered up and sitting in wait for its' feline-hybrid pilot.
As Scott and St. Helen climbed down from their aircraft, the din of aircraft engines surrounded them, along with the continuous rumble of background noise as the base readied for the ongoing counter-offensive.
Once the others disembarked from their planes, Scott gathered them all behind the hangar, in one of the trailers that had - from somewhere - appeared as a temporary HQ at the airfield. He'd quickly reviewed the intel for the situation, and the timeline of the upcoming operation, and had easily seen where their expertise would be needed.
"All right, boys and girls. We did good out there, and gave the ground forces time to get organised and head out. Our job isn't over though; we can expect that the rebel forces will push back now that we've gave them a kick in the teeth, and that the rocket launch won't go unnoticed. The French governments' forces are only a day away, and the launch is scheduled for twelve hours from now with everything going well. So, our role from now will be to remain on standby with our aircraft fuelled, armed and ready to respond if there's anything cropping up that needs our attention. Once launch time rolls around, our main goal will be to provide a CAP over the space-centre, and to blunt any offensive by the hostiles." He checked his watch and grimaced. "It'll be a night-time launch, which means a night-time flight. I'm going to rotate everyone through four hours on-and-off alert until then, giving everyone a chance to rest up before we all fly later on." He frowned as he looked at the numerous maps and other info taped to the wall of the trailer, and scattered on the table. "There's also the hostile mercs to consider; now they know we're here, we'd better be prepared for them if we fly, and that they might try to strike the base, or the reinforcements as we move. We were lucky today: they didn't expect us, and we caught them by surprise and outnumbered. Next time, we have to act as if they're expecting us. They have powerful and advanced aircraft, and they look to be skillful and capable pilots. Don't underestimate them, and stick together if we get into a skirmish with them. That's all for now; everyone rest easy, and don't go far".
Scott dismissed the squadron, after giving them their schedule of on-off alerts.
But it wasn't going to be straightforward - Before he could begin planning the cockpit alert, Stalin approached him with bad news: the last sortie had been enough for him, and he was resigning there and then.
Regretfully, he said his goodbyes as the Flanker pilot stood himself down from duty, and set about planning to return to the island, and then to wherever else he had planned.
Splitting up the aircraft and pilots became a monumentally difficult task from there, with the uneven number of pilots and aircraft he had left. With much confusion, he re-thought his original plan. Instead of having two pilots and aircraft on each alert, he'd have one each in stints a little over two hours on notice to take off within five minutes of an alert, and the next person on the roster at ten-minute alert, with the other aircraft ready to fly within a half-hour. That way, the time was split more evenly, and everyone got more rest, and no-one would be completely on their own should anything come up.
Splitting the group up, he placed Short-round and Spirit at the head, then himself. Charnel and Viking followed up and finished off, in time for the expected launch.
There was still no word on Kat's status, but Scott ensured to enquire after her and send her well-wishes, before absorbing him in the minutiae of running the squadron; in short, paperwork, alongside his own rest time.
Good news trickled in throughout the 12-hour period; the Major's forces had, with the assistance of the reinforcements, recaptured Sinnamary completely, and pushed on, routing the enemy and driving them further back from the Space Center. The reinforcements helicoptered in had also captured the jungle airstrip and turned it into a forward operating base of their own, allowing supplies to be ferried to the forward edge of the battle area.
The end of Charnels' standby alert was close to an end when things went south. One of the crew on duty monitoring for new developments rushed out of the radio trailer and called out for the squadron. Scott hustled over, gathering the others around as the non-com quickly explained the situation. With the impending launch and the land-battle at a stalemate, the rebels had assumed a new idea; skirting around the land completely, they had begun to move down the coast via water in a flotilla of hastily armed civilian craft, and whatever small military or paramilitary vessels at their disposal. Watchman had detected air cover over the small fleet, along with transports in the air. It was a fair bet the hostile mercenaries were providing escort to both the flotilla, and whatever the transports were carrying. Their course and speed indicated a landing scheduled for around the launch time, with the obvious intent of sabotaging the launch.
"All right," Scott said quickly. "We've got no time to waste. Mixed loads of air-to-air and air-to-ground for everyone. We need to get in there and cause as much damage as possible. Send as many of those boats to the bottom, and give the mercs a thing or two that oughta make 'em reconsider. We have to hit those transports too - likely they're carrying troops and weapons to attack the space center. We have to stop that from happening, or else that satellite will be hitting more targets - maybe this time it'll be a city of thousands or worse. We can't let that happen. Everyone prep for launch, we're taking off in fifteen minutes for an intercept!"
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