“Echo Four here, I don’t see jack shit.”

“That’s because you’re relying on visuals Four, try checking your radar display and you might find a pleasant surprise waiting for you.”

There is a brief silence as Echo Four, known as ‘All-In’ to his squadmates, took his eyes away from the ferocious snowfall that fell over north-east Estovakia and checked his instruments, no doubt for the first time since taking off. Julian sighed. It was a wonder the guy managed to stay up in the air as long as he did, less so that he’d been drummed out of the military.

“Eight contacts fifty miles out, just like the ‘Stovies said,” came the lilting, sing-song voice of Echo Three, “amateurs had their radars lit up before we were even in range, must be paranoid.”

“Well that paranoia’s just killed them, not that it’d be all that difficult to find these guys anyhow,” Julian responded, making sure to keep his bird level.

“I don’t like this,” Echo Two muttered. “Eight transports – rebel transports at that – flying a long, open path with /no/ escort to speak of?”

“What’s the issue? The Stovies are paying us /double/ because they’ve not got anything of their own in range,” All-In pointed out.

“No, they paid /Artemis/ double. All we get is whatever cash bounty these transports are worth and /maybe/ a bonus when we get back.”

“Two, what the hell are you even complaining about?” Three cut in, “you stash so much cash away into those savings accounts of yours and barely spend a damn dime when whether we’re on leave or off-base so what the fuck is all this noise I’m hearing from you now?”

“Dagger, Jigsaw,” Julian said, raising his voice, “shut your mouths or so help me God I’ll…”

They never found out what he had planned, because four planes suddenly blasted out of the snow towards them.

“Holy /shit!/” someone shouted.

“Break and engage!” Julian roared, casting an angry glance at his radar display, which was now picking up four… no… /eight/ extra profiles which were making uncomfortable speed towards Echo.

“Fucking /intelligence!/” All-in cried.

“Save it for the ground Four!” Julian ordered as he performed a quick FREDA check before lighting his afterburners and pulling his formidable aircraft – a MiG-29 – into a sharp turn to follow the planes which had blitzed past them.

“Can I just say ‘I fucking knew it’?” Two crowed, sounding uncharacteristically smug.

“No, you may not,” snarled Julian as he sighted on his first victim, an F-14 Tomcat.

“Got a visual on these reinforcements boss,” Three grunted, no doubt straining himself in a high-g manoeuvre. “Flankers and more Tomcats like the guys who just buzzed us.”

“Acknowledged,” Julian replied as he lined his pippers on his target. It was juddering and looked like it was losing altitude, a mechanical fault? It didn’t matter, he was easy pickings now.

Julian let loose with his craft’s gun, shredding the wing of the Tomcat and sending it plummeting in an uncontrollable spin towards the ground.

A sharp blaring suddenly alerted Julian to the fact that someone was attempting to gain a lock on him. Julian pulled his MiG up and hit the airbrakes at the same time. If he was lucky…

Yes! His would-be attacker, another Tomcat, screamed past him, clearly over-eager and it had cost him. The GSh-30-1 cannon barked and blew out both engines.

“Raven, scratch two,” he muttered aloud. He doubted anyone had heard him over the sound of their own personal engagements. A quick check of his instruments told him that there were now only seven contacts intermingling with Echo Team and he whistled. His boys had worked fast.

“Someone get this guy off my back!” Two cried, “I can’t shake him!”

“On my way Jigsaw,” Julian answered, locating his wingman and rocketing towards him.

He reached the pair in short order. A Flanker pursued a red and white striped F/A-18, its guns flaring as it tried to score a kill on the tricky mercenary. Julian cursed as a few bullets ripped through an engine and Jigsaw’s bird began to slow and dip, which would make it all too easy for the Flanker to finish off.

Fortunately, Julian had acquired a lock, and from the way the Flanker was beginning to speed up and turn its pilot had clearly realised and was wisely choosing to abandon the kill rather than risk destruction.

Too little, too late, Julian frowned, and a screaming missile thundered into the plane’s midsection, blowing it in half.

“Jigsaw talk to me, how’s your bird looking?” Julian asked frantically, noting the way his wingman’s plane was already starting to spin earthwards.

“I’ve lost control!” Jigsaw said, panic and disbelief tinging his usually baritone voice.

“Fuck.” Julian swore venomously before sighing out of frustration for his friend. “Punch out, keep your damned emergency beacon on, and try to keep warm down there… we’ll see you back at the base.”

Seconds later the canopy of the hornet exploded outward. The chute deployed moments afterward.

Then the Hornet exploded.

A bandit, perhaps believing the abandoned bird was somehow still in the fight, had fired a missile at it.

“Now that’s just not cool,” Julian murmured softly.

“I… they…” oh boy, this wasn’t going to be nice to hear… Jigsaw loved his planes.

“I can’t believe it!” the merc bawled, and Julian could almost picture the tears streaming from his eyes as he took in the fireball that had once been his prized warbird. “They /destroyed/ my beautiful Hornet!”

“S’alright Jigsaw, I got him for you,” All-In cooed softly as he made a quick pass that reduced the offending Flanker to scrap metal, another on his tail.

“SAR team’s scrambled boss,” Dagger called, “they’ll be a while but as long as Jigsaw keeps his beacon on, they’ll find him.”

“Good,” Julian breathed as he pulled his plane up and pinned the location of another Flanker. “Now let’s show these jokers that you /really/ don’t want to fuck with Echo.”