The Bear

Day Thirteen Alaska

The E-3 Sentry continued its track at the top of the world. One had remained airborne since the original incident over the Alaskan coast. It was a drain on the 3rd Wing as only two were currently stationed in Alaska. Keeping one airborne along with two F-22 escorts and a tanker to keep the fighters aloft was beginning to become taxing on the crews. General Nathan Dulles had requested a third, but it had yet to arrive. AWACS could look down over the top of the world. Radar stations in Alaska and Canada were subject to the curvature of the earth. They could not see over it, and the satellite in geosynchronous orbit was older, and failing. It was unreliable. It should have been replaced ten years ago.

“We need another one, Al. I’ve got maintenance crews going over every inch of the one on the ground, but it needs done properly. Two E-3s just aren’t enough if you want one up at all times.”

“I know, Nate. I’ve got one coming up from the coast. It’ll be there in a day.”

“It can’t come fast enough.” General Nathan Dulles slumped into his chair, slamming his cigar out in the ashtray. “And the crews too, Al. They need to stand down.”

“It’s coming, Nate. Anything else on the table?”

“Nothing so far. It’s been quiet up here. Almost too quiet.”

“Thanks. Keep me posted. You’ll have the E-3 in a day.”

General Dulles thumbed the off button and plopped the receiver back down into its base. He picked up the cigar stub and shoved it in his mouth. He was tired too. He looked up as an airman knocked on his door.

“Sir, Lookdown shows a huge sortie coming over the pole.”

“How many?”

“We don’t have an exact count yet sir, but it’s more than just a few.”

Dulles picked up the phone again and punched two numbers.

“This is Diamond Command. Launch both interceptor flights. Put them on the E-3 on the pole.” Dulles listened for a second before exploding. “I don’t give a damn if they just got back. Put ‘em back up again!” Dulles tossed the phone back onto his desk. He hated cordless phones. You couldn’t slam them down onto a receiver. He was out of his chair and blew past the airman still standing there, storming into the command center within minutes.

“What the hell is going on now?” Dulles nearly screamed.

“Large sortie coming over the pole. E-3 is sending back its intel, plus what we can see.” The airman remembered his rebuke from earlier and dropped the ‘sir’.

“Airman, how come every time I come in here there’s bad news when you’re around?”

“Sorry General.”

Dulles walked up behind him and rested his hand on the airman’s shoulder.

“Thanks for the new chair, General.”

“You’re welcome,” Dulles said as he looked over the array of screens. “Let’s see what’s going on here.”

“This is what the Sentry sees right now, General.” The airman pointed to the screen on his left. “This is what we see.”

“When will they sync?”

“They might not, at least with the Sentry that far away.”

“He’s got two escorts?”

“F-22’s,” the airman said as he nodded.

“Pull them back. They can’t be the only thing in the way.” Dulles looked at the blips moving north on the other screen. “We need them up there but not too close. He’s our best eye on things. How long before they get there?”

“Less than twenty.”

“Damn.” Dulles turned, pushing himself off the airman’s chair. “Too long.”

“How close are they?”

“Close, for coming over the pole, General. They usually don’t get that far in unless they’re coming from the west.”

“That’s because it’s too far. It eats up fuel.”

“Couldn’t they just refuel, General?”

“Son,” Dulles said as he turned back to the display, “what you need to remember up here at the top of the world is, cold makes everything more difficult. Everything breaks faster. Nothing works like it’s supposed to.”

“Then why send them over the pole in the first place?”

“Just to show us they can.” Dulles crossed his arms and waited. It was all he could do. The room was so quiet he could hear the quartz movement of his watch. “Let’s get busy people.” Dulles turned, announcing his displeasure. Everyone was just standing around doing the same thing he was; waiting.

“Can they see what’s coming at them?”

“Likely not yet, General, unless they have an AWACs of their own.”

“Do we know that?”

“Not as yet, sir.” The airman held his breath at the slip of the tongue. “They’re almost within range.”

“Can you tie me into them from here?”

“Go General,” the airman said as he toggled the correct switches.

“Flight Leader, this is Diamond Command.”

“Roger Diamond Command. This is Flight Leader.”

“You are not authorized to shoot without my direct order. Do you understand?”

“Roger Diamond Command. Weapons are not free.”

“Damn, what happens if they start shooting?”

“Can the chatter. We’ve got work to do.” Colonel Mike Jarrod scanned his screen. The E-3 was within distance to take tactical command. “Lookdown this it Diamond Crush. Turning over tactical to you.”

“Roger Diamond Crush.”

“Keep the formations tight. We go where we’re told now,” Jarrod announced.

Diamond Crush had Lookdown in visual range. The flights streaked by on either side as the F-22 escorts pulled back with the Sentry. They were on the last hour of their patrol when the Russian sortie came over the top. They were ready to come home. The extended stay was taxing their fuel stores. They’d have to meet up with a tanker before heading home.

“Diamond Command, this is Lookdown. If we have to stay here much longer we’re going to need some gas. The tanker’s already gone.”

General Dulles turned and located the command duty officer. His order was short and to the point.

“Get on it.” He again patted the airman’s shoulder. “Let ‘em know it’s coming.”

The two flights of Raptors roared past the E-3. The blue sky above in sharp contrast to the white world below. There was no dark sea as the arctic expanse was at its furthest extent. Colonel Jarrod pinned his eye on the curvature of the earth. He had an idea as to where they might be. They were closing at a rate of 1200 knots. Once he saw them, they’d be on top of them quickly.

“Lookdown do we have any signatures on these birds yet?”

“They look to be a mix of Bear bombers and 29’s. Older, but there are a lot of them.”

“Hmm. Not quite the party crashers we had last time.”

“General?” the airman asked.

“Not the same mix.” Dulles put his hands on his hips and stared at the screens. “I’m thinking they’re going to turn back at the first sign of us buzzing them.” Tell them to do a fly-by and see what happens.”

“Yes sir, uh, General.”

“It’s okay son. It’s habit.”

Colonel Jarrod took note and acknowledged the order. The two flights spread out with Jarrod’s group increasing their altitude.

“Let’s go high and low on ‘em boys. Then turn off and follow on their six. Let’s see if Ivan likes that or not.”

The Raptors closed rapidly as the Russian sortie held formation. It was the largest gathering of planes Jarrod had ever seen in this part of the world, planes that weren’t his own. As they closed, the sheer size of the Bear bombers became evident. They were huge. As they rocketed above, he couldn’t help but look back at the old bomber. His group banked right and pulled up behind the formation. The Migs stayed in place. Not a wiggle.

“Well, what now?” Jarrod didn’t just want to follow them into North American airspace. “Light ‘em up boys,” Jarrod ordered. The Raptors engaged their targeting systems knowing they would be immediately recognized by the Russians. It would be like shooting ducks in a barrel at this range. It was now his challenge to give.

“Unknown rider, unknown rider. You are within the territorial airspace of The United States. You are ordered to turn away.”

The command center in Diamond Command again fell silent. Dulles stared at the screen ready to give an order he didn’t want to give.

“General, we have new in-bounds.”

“From where?”

“Damn, looks like they’re coming from Canada.”

“Well I’ll be,” Dulles said with raised eyebrows. “They’re supposed to be coordinating with us.” He leaned in close over the airman’s shoulder. “F-16s maybe. Vector them to the E-3.”

“Diamond Crush has initiated targeting systems,” the airman said.

Jarrod listened to the chatter as the Canadians zeroed in to their position. His flight kept their place behind and slightly above the Russians. He was getting itchy. No formation coming over the pole had ever been this close, at least as far as he knew. They were sitting in silence. He had to break it.

“Keep to your positions.”

Just as the words slipped into the stratosphere, the Migs broke formation, falling away from the bombers. Within seconds, the massive cold war era planes began their slow turn away from their projected course and Jarrod let out a sigh of relief.

“They’re turning away.” Dulles lifted his fist and emphatically pumped it once in the air. “Yeah baby!” The command center felt the combined exhale of everyone who had been holding their breath. “Pull them home,” Dulles said as he continued his smile. “Pull them home.”