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[Cipherhornet18]

602nd Airbase, Shymkent, Kazakhstan
May 19th, 2019 - 0622 Hours Local

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Up at the front of the briefing room of the airbase in Kazakhstan, stood an older man in a blue flight suit. He held a mug of coffee that he sipped from, in between greeting each pilot who entered with a smile and a nod. He was a UNF representative, but formerly was a training instructor for countless PMCs and the UNF at some point and time, and had experience with both Daemon-Knight and Gryphus Squadron.



His name was Peter Beagle, but everyone really knew him only as "Pops", the kindly old man who had a reputation of being a great pilot back in his day and sought to pass that knowledge down to the next generation.

"Settle down everyone. I know of some of you, a few I've yet to meet. However, you're all being put into a rather unique position, one of great importance but also you'll see history in the making." Pops explained, dimming the lights and activating the briefing from his laptop. A pre-recorded voice handled the explanation.

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"Now, while I know Gryphus brought their own aircraft, we can procure you some from the local Advanced Automated Aviation Plant. I know it's standard procedure for UNF squadrons to fly the same type in their formations. As for Galm..." Pops trailed off, looking at the gruff man who had a perpetual 5 o'clock shadow and black hair.

"We've all got our favorites. Nugget, around here, you get better equipment the better you do. No one's going to throw good money after bad, we're still here to make money after all. But you show enough promise I'm going to throw you up the scale a tad. You don't have to start in the novice planes unless you really want to." Jack Bartlett said.

In the row behind Jack, a redhaired woman in an unmarked flight suit nodded. "Yes, sir."

Next to her, Brownie leaned in, whispering. "Lucky. I had to fly five sorties before I could get into my F-16. Had to run an old Tiger on those missions." She cracked a slight smile though.

"Very well. Gryphus, you can either take your F/A-18Cs or something from the list if you think it might better suit the mission." Pops said.

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Veronica thought this over for a moment before deciding. "I'll take the Mirage." She finally said.

"A good choice. Just be careful, I've heard if you're not ready, that thing can really get away from you with its speed and turning ability." Pops said with an approving nod. "Once Gryphus makes their decision, we'll get you loaded up and in the air."

[Mim]

• Gryphus 1: Brooke "Steeler" Murphy
• Gryphus 2: Daniel "Windhover" Pollini
• Gryphus 3: Avril "Scrap Queen" Mead
• Gryphus 4: Jean-Louis "Poet" Flaubert

 There was in the middle row a quiet discussion between four very mismatched pilots, as in each came from different spheres of the world in one way or another, then thrust together eventually to create one very cohesive and well trained unit under the steady hand of Captain Murphy, 'Murph, or Steeler' to her teammates. Finally after a minute or so Brooke stood casually. "Those are sir some fabulous picks to choose from. But since we've all flown on either 16's or 18's, we'll stick with ours so at the very least we have a little extra loiter time and the added ordnance if we need it."

 The one they called Windhover, Daniel Pollini stood next to his unit leader. "If I could I'd be flyin one of those for each day of the week. But since that'd be rather impractical we made a democratic decision. I only have one question sir, since the choice has been made, how soon will we be kickin off?"

[Cipherhornet18]

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"Very well. Your aircraft will be outfitted automatically for this mission, but normally, the flight leaders will get final say on this. The specific nature of the threat means we can narrow things down." Pops explained.

"And don't expect the intel to always be so clear cut." Bartlett said, standing up. "Brownie, I want you on my wing for this one. Pixy, let's see what our Nugget can do."

"I thought you were going to say that..." Foulke replied, shaking his head before turning to look at Cipher. "You ready?"

"Yeah." Veronica replied, nodding her head once.

"I hope so. Just keep your wits about you, no one wants to bail out into a desert." Pixy replied.

"Don't worry about it. You're not alone and usually these things just pan out to either nothing or a turkey shoot up against some barely flying MiG-21s." Brownie added.

"Yeah, somehow I doubt it this time." Bartlett grumbled.

The techs and ground crews were quite quick in getting everyone's aircraft readied. But even here, the contrasts showed. The UNF side of things at this old airbase were tidy, organized, everything being done with practiced precision. Galm's techs all seemed to have the core approaches the same, but a far different execution. Crews seemed to be specifically organized to each plane, and were as unique as the planes they serviced.

But the one that seemed to stand out was not even the commander's plane, which bore some resemblance to an old US Navy squadron. Rather, it was the F-15C. For the most part, it bore the same two tone air superiority grey color scheme favored by what was left of the United States Air Force. But over half of the starboard wing was a bright crimson red, top and bottom. Rumors had been abound about a mercenary who had half of his wing blown off and yet made it back to base, the one who was now known as "Solo Wing"...

The only similarity in the Galm Team aircraft was their insignia, the tails all bore the same code, VL, and had the same insignia of a stylized hellhound in red. Once again, this was in contrast to the UNF fighters, which all bore the same air superiority grey color scheme, the same AB tail codes, and the same insignia of a condor/vulture type bird with the Southern Cross constellation.

But all 8 were sitting on the flight line, ready to go for their respective crews.
==========================================================
Baikonur Cosmodrome, Kazakhstan
0720 Hours Local

The rocket sat at the center launch pad, waiting for the countdown to begin.

As the Galm and Gryphus aircraft entered into the airspace, they were contacted from the ground control station.

"Approaching fighters, this is Baikonur Control, we see you. Please identify." The control officer requested in accented English.

"This is Galm One of Galm Team, four-ship formation representing Daemon-Knight Strategic Solutions as contracted by UNF blah blah blah." Bartlett said, clearly having done this speech far too many times.

"What?! Mercenaries? The most important launch of the decade and they send mercenaries?!" The ground controller did not sound at all happy about finding this tidbit of information out.

"...Gryphus, you want to try talking to them. I get real shy around strangers, y'know." Bartlett replied.

[Mim]

• Gryphus 1: Brooke "Steeler" Murphy
• Gryphus 2: Daniel "Windhover" Pollini
• Gryphus 3: Avril "Scrap Queen" Mead
• Gryphus 4: Jean-Louis "Poet" Flaubert

 At take off Gryphus Squadron left in a diamond formation right behind Galm, with Steeler leading, then Windhover and Scrap Queen with the  Poet bringing up the rear. As they gained altitude they switched to a finger four, leveling out just below and 300 meters behind Galm at Angels 8. This was the moment of nervousness, that instance when you had all those thousands of hours come back to either make your day, or bite you on the rear end.

 "Close up Poet you're slipping behind." Brooke was a stickler for tight groupings, she'd lost good people due to nothing but sloppiness.

"How close mon ami, I can smell your perfume from here."

 Avril looked over her right shoulder as Jean brought his bird into withing spitting distance of her starboard wing. "You have a big nose then Poet if you can smell past my Chanel number 5."

 "Chanel? Gawd I think that was your last hamburger I could smell!" Daniel chipped in.

 "Can the chit chat. This is serious." Shaking her head the woman had to concede they were in the right mood for whatever might be thrown at them today.

 "Yes boss!" Came the three way reply.

 When the next call came it was first from the missile ground control then Bartlett. Brooke smiled inside her face mask. "You, lost for words Jack? Crikey that's new." Lately she had taken to reviving all the old 20th century Aussie idioms, it was catching on she noted. Switching to her best academy voice she contacted the ground station. "Baikonur, this is UNF Gryphus One, we're a two squadron flight sent to fly CAP over your position. Hostiles possible we have air space control, acknowledge over."

[Cipherhornet18]

There was a delay before a response came over the radio. The controller did not sound happy about it either.

"This is Baikonur Control. Very well, we have you ID'd as friendlies. Be advised, rocket launch is in final checks phase. Launch is planned at T-Minus five minutes. There is a buffer zone around Pad One-Five, set at two miles. Violating this buffer zone at this time may cause issues for the rocket." The controller explained.

"This is radar post Permafrost. We have a group of unknown aircraft approaching from bearing 010, Angels Five, Range 15 miles. Fast movers, picking up weapon search radars going hot." One of the radar stations called out.

"This is radar post White Fang. We're also picking up fast movers, bearing 270, Angels Five, Range 15 miles. Confirming types now...wait, this cannot be right..." Another radar station reported, with a fair bit of skepticism.

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"Galm 2 to Galm 1, looks like unmanned drones in the mix. Quox and Barracuda. How do you want to play it?" Pixy asked.

"Okay. Pixy, take Nugget in with you, let's see what she can do. Brownie and I will hold back and cover the buffer zone. Any that slip the net will be engaged by us." Bartlett replied. "Galm Team is moving to engage the second formation. Gryphus, the first one's yours, but y'know, if you guys need us to step in, it'll earn my guys a bigger paycheck."

"Copy. Cipher, take the lead. Careful with the drones though, they're fragile but they can turn tighter than you." Pixy said, banking his F-15 to intercept the incoming group.

"Roger. They're armed with short-range missiles though, if I'm not mistaken." Cipher replied, following Pixy's turn in her Mirage before running the throttles up to full. It shuddered as the afterburner kicked on and she raced to close the distance on the enemy force.

"Affirmative. And guns, the Quox comes up short with a fifty-cal Gatling., the Barracuda has a twenty seven mil like the Typhoon." Brownie added.

"Not bad." Bartlett said in approval to Brownie's report.

The MiGs were in a tight diamond formation, while the drones had taken up what appeared to be escort positions on either side of the formations. When Pixy and Cipher closed up the distance, the MiGs lit their afterburners while the drones angled up to engage them.

"Galm One, Galm Four. The MiGs may be the bombers here, they're making a run on the buffer zone." Cipher reported as a Quox and Barracuda banked in to engage her. The RWR began to chirp at her as they were attempting to lock onto her fighter.

Pulling hard back on the throttle to lose speed while entering into a turn, she banked around to pursue the drones. They were agile little things, but the Mirage had been built for agility as well as speed. It didn't take her long to get onto their tails.

"Galm Four, Fox Two." She reported, and the Magic 2 missile streaked off the rails and straight into the back end of the Barracuda, blowing it to pieces. The Quox went evasive as a result, but Cipher was right on it, but the distance was closing too rapidly. So instead, she pulled the trigger for her guns.

"Guns guns guns." She reported, and the tracers started working from falling behind the drone to slamming into its center. The F110 engine, the same as the Japanese F-2A, was blasted to pieces from 30mm cannon fire, and it very quickly was sent to crash in a fireball into the Kazakh desert.

"Good shooting, Kid. We've got the MiGs, give Pixy a hand with the drones." Bartlett reported. "Brownie, I'm going to fire at range first, you get in there and throw a couple of those ASRAAMs of yours into their formation, that should go real nice with these guys."

"Brownie, roger. Rolling in." The F-16 lit its afterburners and entered into a climb. Bartlett's F-14 hung back, but the powerful radar lit up and locked onto the approaching MiGs. He locked onto the lead fighter.

"Heartbreak One, Fox One." He called out, and a Sparrow missile was on its way. The missile only had to follow the signal being broadcast by Bartlett's Tomcat, which it did dutifully, slamming into the enemy MiG-21 and sending it crashing into the desert.

"Galm Three, Fox Two, Fox Two." Brownie called out, loosing a pair of ASRAAMs at the next two fighters. The larger warhead and proximity detonation fuses in these missiles meant that the results were quite impressive, as she managed to splash both targets and cripple the trailing fighter. It was finished off by a second Sparrow fired by Bartlett.

Pixy was putting his Eagle through its paces, as usual. The drones were tricky opponents, but so was he. Once he had them right where he wanted, Pixy cut his throttles back and pulled hard into a high-g flip. It wasn't graceful, and it was nowhere near as good as the Russian "Flanker" family could do, but it was more than the drones could have expected.

"Galm Two. Fox Two. Fox Two." Pixy reported, loosing a Sidewinder at each drone as Cipher was moving in. The Quox evaded but the Barracuda was now in pieces. The drone's gun began to fire, but the much larger F-15 was already banking away and flying clear.

"Galm Four, Fox Two." Cipher said as soon as she had the shot. As the drone turned to engage Pixy, its left wing was shattered and it was now a bunch of junk heading for its final resting place.

"Huh. Nice shot, Cipher." Pixy replied with some approval.

[Mim]

• Gryphus 1: Brooke "Steeler" Murphy
• Gryphus 2: Daniel "Windhover" Pollini
• Gryphus 3: Avril "Scrap Queen" Mead
• Gryphus 4: Jean-Louis "Poet" Flaubert

"Acknowledged Baikonour." Swiftly said by Brooke, there was no time for any other niceties as truly the crap hit the fan. "Break, break, break. We have bandits Gryphus, you three get those Fishbeds, I'll take care of those...drone things!" That was the only way she could figure it, since it was basically four into six was a bad number.

 "You're nuts!" Daniel yelled but gave no other inclination to disobey seeing the desperation of the situation. "Scrappy, Poet on me. Zoom time." The F18's went in pursuit of their prey having a slight advantage of speed and better weapons to boot.

 Leaving her wingmates to take care of business Brooke had another problem, one of the Drones had turned on her as she lined up the first; she was now the hunter being hunted. Not for long though as she flipped sideways feeling rather than seeing the thing line her up for the kill; chance works miracles they say as his rounds went through the gap she had just filled to take out his mate instead. "O-M-G!" She cried in joy. "Bartlett are you watching the replay?" Brooke almost laughed over the radio. Still there was the other business, the rest of her flight and that to happened at the speed of light.

 "Splash one!" Came from Scrap Queen then just as quickly from Poet.

 "Flame out, gotta bail, no restart." Although his voice had no tone of panic to it, the others all knew what a terrifying moment that can be.

"You've got height Jean, dive hard and then try." Daniel more or less made it an order in the mess of things, yet he was more concerned right then with his own target. The MIG pilot was good, even after two missiles he was still in it. "Guns, guns, guns!" As he fired a raking burst across the upper fuselage, producing a nice amount of black smoke. The fighter broke away before erupting in a ball of fire.

 "Negative Windhover. See you all in the mess." At now 3,000 feet three miles south west of Baikonour he ejected. By this time Brooke had him visual, she watched until she saw his chute.

 Two MIGs down, two to go. Steeler had both in her sights, she had two 120's on board but as usual, something had to go wrong. First fire as she called "Fox three!" There an arming error on her screen and the thing was hooked up. Nothing to do now but to eject it as a useless piece of junk. She hit the release allowing a couple of million bucks worth of scrap metal to fall to earth. "Fox three!" The call went out again and this time counting the seconds she heard from Avril.

 "Bingo! That was...uncanny." It was her turn again for the last as Daniel flew on her wing. She had him in his sights and the pilot must have felt the heat. For just as she was about to make the call he broke off fast to head for home.

 "Oh damn you frigging chicken sh*t!" She cried

 There was a little laughter over the radios for a second. "Next time, Scrappy, next time." Brooke made her report. "Baikonour, the air is clear. Galm, we're heading home, we have hitchhiker to find."

[Cipherhornet18]

"Yeah, what I'm seein' is the UNF squad lost a plane. Galm 4, Kid. How's your bird holding up?" Jack said as Galm Team reformed into a diamond formation around Bartlett's Tomcat.

Opting to show off a little, Veronica put her Mirage into a slow barrel roll as she formed back up with Pixy.

"Everything is in the green here, sir." Cipher replied.

"Well, would ya look at that. And I think our Nugget bagged more than any of you. Hell, I think Brownie got more too." Bartlett continued.

"I'm starting to think that we're the ones babysitting you, instead of the other way around." Pixy chimed in.

"Launch is proceeding as planned. No additional hostiles...wait...we're getting something. It's a news report." The ground controller said, and in the background, there was a TV news broadcast.

"It sounds as if there has been a drone attack at the Pacific Summit in Tokyo, as well as all over the world. What the hell is going on?" Control asked rhetorically.

The rocket launched on schedule, completing the mission.
==========================================================
602nd Airbase, Shymkent, Kazakhstan
0945 Local

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Once that was done, the lights were turned back on and Pops looked out at everyone.

"Well, that's not good. Captain Murphy, I'd like you to have a full maintenance check on all your fighters before the next mission. I think UNF Command will overlook this for now, but next time, it may be far more costly." Pops said to Brooke before looking to Bartlett.

"Mister Bartlett, I trust your new pilot did well?" Pops asked.

"Better than I expected. She's confident at least, and seems to have the basics down." Bartlett replied.

"The Sons of Troia accounts for the MiGs, sure. Wehrner & Noah Enterprises has their biggest aviation plants in southern Russia. But the drones, that seems a bit out of their MO." Pixy said, changing the subject.

"The refugees and native population have been at each others throats for years in that area. A friend of mine said the Russians are hiring PMCs left and right just to keep the peace." Brownie added.

"It's not pretty in a lot of places. We're moving to the Balkans because things between Hungary and Romania are getting bad and its right as fighting in the former Yugoslavia is ramping up for the first time in ten years." Pops replied.

"What about NATO?" Veronica asked.

"What about it? Kid, NATO is a shadow of its former self, it exists in name and in newspapers. Most of it is either UNF, Merc, or got shut down." Bartlett replied.

"Well, in the meantime, you all just take a few to talk it over, see what you did right and wrong. We leave tomorrow night to set up in Northern Greece." Pops said, and left the room.

[Mim]

• Gryphus 1: Brooke "Steeler" Murphy
• Gryphus 2: Daniel "Windhover" Pollini
• Gryphus 3: Avril "Scrap Queen" Mead
• Gryphus 4: Jean-Louis "Poet" Flaubert

 Around an hour or more after both flights had landed tension among Gryphus was high as they hadn't heard a word on Poet's whereabouts since Brooke saw his chute open. She of course tried to track his eventual landing place but that proved impossible during the heat of the engagement.

 So it was with sullen faces the other three sat at the debrief saying little for the most part feeling as if so early on the fate of one their own rested on a search and rescue operation that wasn't going to come. Still there were points to be made. "It's not a competition people, we do what we can when we can with what we have. Some of you were lucky, some of us were not. We work as a cohesive unit or we die, its as simple as that. I think we all did well given the odds against us." She thought idly for a second. "Just don't get over confident and we'll survive...credit where it is due, Nugget, Brownie that was good flying, seriously." Brooke wasn't one to hand out prizes easily, in this case they earned it.

 "Sons of Troia? Where in hell do they come up with these names?" Danny's face showed both humor and sarcasm in the one expression.

 Avirl looked at him. "Scrabble maybe? Who knows and who cares dude. I'm more concerned about Jean right now and we've heard nothing! Nada, zero, zilch. Useless conversation." In a word she was angry and probably felt justified in being so.

 "Calm down Scrappy he'll show up. Remember that time back in Syd..." He didn't finish as the woman cut him off with a glare that cut through to the bone.

 Not wanting to brush off the notion of the possibility Poet was either dead or captured, Brooke needed to clear her mind for the moment. "NATO, about as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike. Nothing changes, my old man said it was the same back in the 80's. All bureaucrats and self serving politicians pushing their own personal agendas if you ask me."

 A noise, well it was laughter actually, was heard just outside the room as a very different looking Jean strolled in as if nothing had happened. He was dressed head to toe in the traditional clothing of the locals, including that funny little hat. Quite colourful the whole attire was, not exactly dress of the day though.

 "Good god!" Danny exclaimed doing his best not to burst out laughing.

 "Don't ask!" Jean said flatly, itching at the clothing he needed to get rid of sooner rather than later. "Local farmer picked me up. Hooked me up with his daughter, apparently I'm married...." He facepalmed himself. ''She's bloody twelve years old! So I just went along with it, hopefully we'll be long gone before he expects me to seal the deal. So what's next?''

 Brooke looked at team Galm. ''Greece isn't it?''

[Cipherhornet18]

"She's not a Nugget anymore." Bartlett countered, right when Poet returned. "...though he might be. Starting to think we're not getting paid enough..."

"...how did you get into all of that when you bailed out over the largest space launch facility in the world? Luckily we weren't doing this over Comona or you'd have somehow ended up as a virgin sacrifice or something." Brownie said, looking in utter disbelief at the returning UNF pilot. Comona Space Facility was a recently built site, since the UNF was starting to have trouble with leasing time from the Americans at Cape Canaveral and even getting time at Baikonur from the Russians was a trouble. Situated on the British Virgin Isles, it was going to be the most advanced space launch center and hopefully end the threat of Near Earth Objects by the end of the next decade...

"You may want to have a chat with UNF Support Command before we sortie again. There's really no excuse for this. Even those losers at Bone Arrow can recover their Bailout King every time he decides to lose his Typhoon." Bartlett said. "And yeah, it's Greece. Ever since Landfall, the former Yugoslavia has gone even further into hell and with all the cutbacks, NATO had to abandon any attempts to keep the peace. Early mercs thrived in the area until the UNF stabilized the region."

"The Sons of Troia may have a strange name, but you're wrong to just dismiss them. They're the result of the SEZs and the way the UN and Wernher & Noah solved the problems caused by the asteroids." Larry explained, "Iyuli isn't the only one, just the one that's the most complicated and most seen in the media. They're all over the world, places refugees got dumped or fled to and are now exploited."

"Don't tell me you sympathize with them. My family lived in LA for generations since the Second World War, when the refugees started flooding the border area, it was hell for all of us, and they were always happy to riot for any reason. I got out because I was afraid of what would happen to me if I didn't." Brownie said.

"I don't. But there's more than one side to any story. Look at Iyuli. Wernher & Noah and the UN want it to be their shining beacon of how the SEZs saved lives. Russia considers it a national security disaster. The locals who lived there want their homes back. And the refugees think that everyone is treating them like slaves, exploiting them for free labor." Larry continued. "The Sons of Troia, well, they were bound to happen. All these groups had different names, Troia is just the biggest of them, so they get the attention. They want justice for the refugees in the SEZs."

"How does destroying a satellite that was intended to clean up the orbit from remaining fragments help their cause?" Veronica asked.

"Good question, Kid. You guys can get all dismissive or philosophical as you want, but the question I want to know is how they got their intel and how they got those drones. Fighters and bombers are easy, especially with all the W&N facilities in Iyuli or surplus equipment. But not the latest UAVs." Bartlett said.

"Either we were lied to about the payload, which is likely, or else Troia has a much larger goal in mind." Veronica said, "And if the Balkans has gone to hell...we'll find out soon enough."

==========================================================
Sedes Air Base, Greece
05/22/2019 - 0800 Hours Local[/i]

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Sedes Air Base was an auxiliary base situated near Thessaloniki, even before the Greek military downsized. Today, it was up for rent by whoever needed it and could meet Athens' price for it, which today was the UNF. Otherwise, it was an air museum for the Hellenic Air Force, with two hangars dedicated to the that role. The others were stuffed full of old F-4Es, A-7Es, and even Mirages, retired but not properly scrapped after the HAF was forced to make massive cuts to save their country. Some even thought that this was because the Greeks intended to restore these aircraft once they had the money to do so, but that was a pipe dream at best.

Pops waited for the crews of Galm and Gryphus to enter the briefing room, which had been only partially and hastily cleaned out by the cleaning crews, so some seats were hosting occupants of cleaning supplies, boxes of various supplies, and even parts to replace lights, vacuums and other things the janitors needed.

"So, as you may have seen in the news, Hungary and Romania are about to go to war, but the UNF isn't involved in that as of yet. We're looking, however, further south. Serbia. They've been dealing with a Sons of Troia rebellion for a few years now, but recently, they've stepped things up to a rather intense degree. So much so that the Serbian government has called for our support." Pops explained, "And the conflict in Hungary has been serving as a great cover for Troia. This is made worse by the fact that the Hungarians don't seem too interested in dealing with the problem of munitions and troops flowing from Hungary into Serbia."

"Serbian troops are currently trying to hold off a major push on the city of Novi Sad, and if they lose it, they project that it'll be such a blow to morale that they may lose the war against Troia. We need to cut off a major supply route if they're to hold the city." Pops said, and started the briefing.

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"Steeler. I'm thinking we should divide and conquer on this one. Pixy and I will provide top cover, in case any enemy fighters do show up unannounced, and since we're flying stuff better suited for air to air. I'd say put two of your guys with us, you pick who. Brownie, Cipher, and your other two are going to pop the ground targets." Bartlett said, "But in that, you need to decide if you want to go Wild Weasel and take out the enemy AA or if you want the convoy and they do the SEAD."

"I can hack either role, same as Brownie. So don't worry about us, focus on what you guys think you can do." Veronica added.

"For ground attack, you might want to consider your options carefully. Unguided weapons are good for area of effect attacks but will require you to get up close and a steady hand. Guided weapons have better range but take longer to hit their target. Basic AA guns won't be a threat until you're up close, and the same tracers they use to reference where their shots are going will work in your favor too. Given that they're looking for mobility, these SAMs won't have long ranges, but don't get careless around them." Pops suggested. "A mixed approach could take them off guard but will require good coordination. I wouldn't advise ignoring the AA entirely, but you don't need a clean sweep."

"Speak for yourself. The more we take out, the better we get paid." Pixy snorted.

"Money is only good if you're alive to spend it, my young friend." Pops chuckled.

[Mim]

• Gryphus 1: Brooke "Steeler" Murphy
• Gryphus 2: Daniel "Windhover" Pollini
• Gryphus 3: Avril "Scrap Queen" Mead
• Gryphus 4: Jean-Louis "Poet" Flaubert

 *Earlier*

 "No one can predict when we have to bail Bartlett, you know as well as anyone here even the most seasoned Vet can lose his bird without getting hit. It all comes down to the mighty dollar and how invested the top end is in keeping our ships in top order and the maintenance that has to back that up. His time was up, next time it could be you or me." Damnit! They were using aircraft that had gone way beyond their use by date; parts refurbished over and over beyond what was reasonable. This was no way to fight a war.

 Avril chipped in with her bit. "Yeah well it ain't gonna get me down. We win some we lose some; that's the way it goes. I'm not here to get medals, I just want to find peace and go home...eventually. So Poet, what exactly did happen?"

 "I'd like to know that man. I mean not the local stuff, you can keep that. But how, as Brownie said..?" Danny was always the curious one.

 The Frenchman had this sad look on his face when he gave them what they wanted to know. "Wind sheer. I was lucky, very lucky my friends. I think I was pushed some 50 kilometers south of where I could have virtually walked in. Maybe more. I will tell you this and it isn't something we want to dwell upon. Support did have a S&R chopper on the ground and that's where it stayed. Contaminated fuel and one fellow I spoke with before I came in said that some of the fighter groups have experienced the same thing. Whether its intentional as in sabotage, or by accident we'll never know. But I believe all shipments of fuel are being tested at three stages now before we receive it."

 "Whoohoo!" Brooke said quite sincerely. "Did you know Greece is where you'll find the best seafood on the planet!" She was a sucker for BBQ'd octopus and a good Greek salad...with chips of course.

                             *************************************

Sedes Air Base, Greece

 With the briefing concluded it was left to Brooke to weigh up the best and most workable options. This was a unique situation whereby the enemy had put in place a decent barrier to protect that convoy. They were determined to see it get through, not as determined as this unit was to see it didn't get through. "I agree. We might need those eyes up there as I never say never when it comes to being bounced unexpectedly. Bartlett you and Pixie can do well up there. On the ground Cipher, Windhover and Brownie can take out the AA element as we go in hard with UGB's. You three should be carrying either Harpoons or whatever works for your bird. We'll have gunnery to back us up and I'm not opposed to wasting an AIM on a ground target as impractical as that sounds."
 

[Cipherhornet18]

"I'll take the Kfir with rocket pods. Wild Weasel strategy should work here, I'll go in fast and get their attention. Brownie, you and Windhover will need to come in low and pop up with your bombs." Veronica said.

"Huh. That's brave, Cipher. But that bird has the straight line speed to do it. But why not take AGMs?" Pixy asked.

"I'm going to try and spray those SAM batteries when we hit them. Even if I don't get them in that pass, it should rattle them and they'll try to track me, not them." Veronica replied.

"Ah, why would it be impractical to fire normal missiles on ground targets? All of them had the modifications made to engage both air and land targets, they're just not as effective on either as specialized weapon types." Pops said, a bit confused why he had to explain this.

"You sure about being a flying target? That sounds dangerous." Brownie pointed out.

"Incredibly so, but it's SEAD 101." Jack replied.

[Mim]

• Gryphus 1: Brooke "Steeler" Murphy
• Gryphus 2: Daniel "Windhover" Pollini
• Gryphus 3: Avril "Scrap Queen" Mead
• Gryphus 4: Jean-Louis "Poet" Flaubert

 The mission brief was simple, stop that bloody convoy in whatever way you could. It didn't matter to HQ how you did it, so long as you completed the mission. Okay, that was straight forward, those were Steeler's thoughts as she climbed into her bird.

 Less than five minutes after roll out, the two flights were at angels ten, fifteen minutes after that they were within visual range of where the convoy was supposed to be. Everyone was on the ball now, eyes and radar searching the hills and valleys of the landscape to find their target. It was Scrappy who made the call first.

 "Gryphus 3 to all. Contact bearing two six five about four kay, on that highway." She banked her FA/18 for a better visual and confirmed it. "Motherload."

 "Copy three. Gryhpus one to Cipher, let's light them up. Brownie, Windhover you'll need to be quick and right behind her, we'll follow up as close as we dare." She looked above her. "Jack, Pixie, we don't want any surprises. Fingers crossed this should be a milk run."

 Even as she spoke, Danny lined his ship up behind Cipher's, with Poet dropping in behind and slightly above Scrappy who was on Brooke's port wing at about 50 meters and 10 below. "Oui, fingers crossed." Poet repeated.

[Cipherhornet18]

Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

"This is UNF AWACS, callsign Magic, assuming operational authority for UNF Squadron Gryphus and Mercenary Team Galm. Target convoy is on the highway, first group is bearing two-eight-zero. Gryphus Squadron, Galm Team, you are cleared to engage." The AWACS, an American male from the sounds of it, reported. Their E-3B Sentry was well behind the lines, but the powerful radar would give them clear eyes on the situation.

"Be advised, Serbian command has made it clear that no convoy element can leave the AO. First group, bearing two-eight-zero, is priority, then work your way up the rest of the convoy line." Magic added.

"Galm One, roger. You got that, Gryphus?" Bartlett asked rhetorically.

"Galm Two to all. Skies are clear. Cipher, we all heard you say you got what it takes to win this. Put some truth to those words." Pixy said.

"Galm Four, roger. Three, stay close to Gryphus Two, follow me in as soon as you guys see tracers. I'll strafe with rockets to shake them up." Cipher replied, rolling her fighter into a dive that leveled off at barely 1,000 feet.

"Copy that, Four. Good luck." Brownie replied, sounding not super confident in Cipher's plan.

Cipher ran her throttles to full and the single engine lit up its afterburner. The Kfir was powered by the same engine found in the famous F-4 Phantom II, which was not a coincidence but rather consequence of how the design came into being in the first place. But it gave the canard-fitted delta-winged fighter a considerable amount of forward thrust, which was exactly what she needed.

The AA guns were parked on the side of the highway, on either side, and were locally produced vehicles. 4x4 AFVs fitted with a triple 20mm autocannon mount, making them equally useful against light targets and low flying air ones. The convoy's first group were a pair of 6x6 trucks of local make and 8x8 APCs, BTR-60s, trundling along past their defenders.

The AA Guns opened up as soon as they saw a fighter racing at them from the south, tracers started to rip across the sky, giving the gunners a point of reference on how to hit the rapidly approaching craft. But, as Murphy's Law stated, "tracers work both ways", and they gave Cipher an idea of how to plot her approach.

She shifted her aim slightly right of the AA Guns on either side of the road. Despite the fact she knew she could have popped both of these on her own, this was a team effort. And she'd have a better time to shine later, the mercenary pilot figured, as she tapped the trigger.

75mm rockets stuttered from the pods slung under her fighter's delta wings, sending high explosive fire raining around both AA sites and the road in an erratic pattern. The AA Guns swung their guns as fast as their servos could manage to keep on the fighter, still spraying autocannon fire as it streaked past.

Brownie was genuinely surprised that worked, but there was something about the new pilot that said she knew more than she let on. Someone clearly had an eye for talent in picking them for Galm Team...

She decided to take the initiative and follow Cipher in, still not sure if she wanted to rely on these UNF pilots quite yet. She'd heard they tended to be stuck in the past, and these guys were clearly showing that already.

"Brownie here, tally AA gun, north side of the road." She reported and went for a similar low-level run to Cipher, but just south of the highway, Brownie pulled up sharply to gain some altitude for her F-16, rolled inverted, and came back down, lining up the bombsight onto the AA position in question. She thumbed the trigger and let a single free-fall bomb fall free from the rack, where gravity took care of the rest as Brownie leveled back off and was flying back towards the south. The bomb landed near the AA vehicle, it wasn't dead on, but when dealing with 1,000 pounds of high explosive, close was good enough as the vehicle was blown apart regardless.

[Mim]

• Gryphus 1: Brooke "Steeler" Murphy
• Gryphus 2: Daniel "Windhover" Pollini
• Gryphus 3: Avril "Scrap Queen" Mead
• Gryphus 4: Jean-Louis "Poet" Flaubert

 At 10,000 feet you could be forgiven for thinking way up here you didn’t have a care in the world. Far away from the horrors of war and everything that went with it, floating with the winds gave you the sense of the typical ‘she’ll be right mate’ attitude of Aussies from what felt like ages ago. Brooke longed for those days, she ached for them and it was here in her element she relished that feeling until the moment of engagement was upon her; such as now. “I heard loud and clear.” She flipped the channel switch to let the AWACS know. “Gryphus One acknowledged Magic.”

 Now they were on point, a set of hounds after the prey. One group to harass and another group to go in for the jugular. Danny followed not far behind Cipher and almost parallel with Brownie, his targets were the SAM’s, two of them and if his luck held he could spread his load along a straight line and Lady Luck was on his side he could take both of them out and the last AA on that side of the convoy. It was a huge ask but not one he wasn’t up to...if only that tart holding the cards looked favourably on him. “Nice work Galm four and three, very nice indeed. I only hope I can keep up the team image.” There was no sarcasm there, that was just Danny, straight shooter with his mouth ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent was when he was trying his hand at humour; which he felt better left to Brooke.

 The enemy of course were well aware more was coming, they had to, certainly they weren’t that dumb. And of course Windhover wasn’t about to let them down either. Rather though than dropping from 10,000 feet to his bombing height of around 1,000 to 1,200 feet, Danny’s acute senses told him by now those SAM’s were going to try and range in him the very instant Brownie and Cipher finished their run. Changing tactics on the run was a part of the deal, his FA/18’s alarm system screaming at him. “Warning, warning, too low, pull up, too low.” Repeated ad nauseam. “Shut the hell up!” He yelled back at the AI, as the Hornet threatened to rip its undersides off on the Motorway.

 From now 8,000 feet Brooke, Poet and Scrappy waited, holding back for the inevitable call to come and finish the job. From that height things became slightly a skewed in some respects, Windhover’s Hornet wasn’t one of those things. “What the frell is he doing?” Avril called over her radio.

 “Oh crap! Trying to be the man I’d say.” Poet shot back feeling a little envy.

 Brooke watched in fascination, she wasn’t going to call the man to change his approach, she knew well that he knew what he was doing. She just prayed he wouldn’t falter. “Quiet!” That was an order, Danny didn’t need an annoying buzz in his head.

 At just two hundred feet above the asphalt as he followed those white lines, Danny came to a rise which was about a mile or so behind the convoy. He was doing 600 knots which translated into a ground speed of around eleven miles a minute. A blur to a bystander watching. He had zero wiggle room and he knew it. His Hornet popped up to five hundred feet and he let go with half of his ten GBU’s. "Bombs away." Without looking back he knew instinctively in those seconds AA was trying to bring him down, he could almost feel the rounds seeking him out. He felt the deep rumble beneath him as his bomb load impacted in a perfect (almost) straight line, he could see the black clouds tinted with the orange of fire in the reflection of his canopy as he pushed his throttle forward while the stick came back taking him rapidly upwards.

 “Bang on!” Steeler yelled with joy. Now it was their turn.

 “Don’t get laxed, Steeler, I heard a few pings from small arms as I passed them.” Danny told her bringing his bird back around to join Cipher and Brownie. From his new position he surveyed the damage. It appeared he had done well, the SAM’s at least had been neutralised, although one AA looked intact even if it was on its side. Not much they could do about it without some heavy lifting gear.

 “Copy that Windhover.” Brooke rolled her Hornet over to lead Scrappy and Poet down, they certainly weren’t going to mirror Danny’s actions. Not today.

 Going for the standard line astern formation the last three FA/18’s used the road as their marker with Steeler tracking it like one of those old time slot cars. At one thousand feet and near five hundred feet behind the convoy she let her load go, all of it. The forward momentum carried the bombs to cover the rear end section of the trucks. Avril followed hard behind, dropping hers a slightly later then Poet at the end dropping his as he was directly over the center of the convoy. A smoking ruin of trucks and vehicles were left behind.

 “Regroup. Check that we didn’t miss any.” That was basically to everyone, she didn’t have to say it aloud.