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SPECTRE BARELY SLEPT that night. It was a problem he had suffered his entire military flying career. He almost never slept before checkrides, first missions in combat, or important sorties. His mind just wouldn’t shut down. He was always running through every possible scenario, chair flying it over and over in his mind.
He guessed he had gotten about four hours total by the time he rolled out of his cot and headed toward the small kitchen and break room next door. Kruger was already up, brewing the first pot of coffee as Spectre stumbled in.
“You look like shit, bub,” Kruger said as he poured a cup and handed it to Spectre.
“I’ll be ready,” Spectre replied, accepting the cup. “But this will help.”
“I know you will be. It’s not you that I’m worried about.”
“Woody?” Spectre asked after taking a long sip.
Kruger nodded as he turned back to the stove where he was making eggs and bacon for the team. “He sure complains a lot.”
Spectre laughed. “That’s just Woody. He’s been kicked a lot in his military career. He’s a good pilot. He’ll be fine.”
“What about Woody?” Woody asked as he stumbled in, rubbing his eyes. “Also, I smelled bacon.”
“It’ll be ready in a second,” Kruger reported.
“I was just telling Kruger about your bad luck with the military,” Spectre said.
“Dude, I’m just happy to be here,” Woody said as he walked to the coffee pot. “Well, not here exactly, but you know what I mean.”
The rest of the team made their way into the kitchen as Kruger served the eggs, bacon, and toast. They all seemed focused, but relaxed. Spectre had always been impressed with how professional the men and women he worked with could be.
The team ate breakfast together and then headed into the hangar for the mission briefing. The plan was for Spectre to fly with Cowboy and for Woody to fly with Kruger. They would fly formation with Natasha, Anatoly, and Viktor in the FSB’s Global 8000 business jet. Once they were all safely airborne, Tuna and company would load up into the Gulfstream and fly to Osan Air Base to meet Coolio and Sierra to monitor the mission and coordinate the exfil mission if things went sideways.
When Kruger was finished briefing the group, the tactical teams led by Tuna and Churchill broke off to set up security and assist with the Flankers being towed out of the hangar. Kruger, Spectre, Woody, and Cowboy stayed behind to brief their mission.
“This is the easy part,” Spectre said. “Our only goal is to get to Sunchon. If we make it that far, the mission has a chance.”
Spectre briefed the takeoff and join-up with their Russian escorts and then continued into what they would do once in country. They had been through this dozens of times before during training, but this time it was live. They would only have one shot.
After finishing the “motherhood” and “meat of the mission” Spectre moved on to the most important part of the brief – contingencies. Unlike most training missions, this mission had a ton of them. He briefed what they would do in the event they were jumped by North Korean fighters, what they would do if targeted by North Korean surface to air missiles, and their plan for mutual support if one of the aircraft was damaged and had to limp to South Korea.
The worst-case scenario was ejection. They had an evasion plan of action, but depending on where they actually bailed out, their chances of escape ranged from not likely to no fucking way. Their best bet was to try to make it to the ocean where a SEAL team could hopefully pick them up.
In the event that only one crew ejected, the other couldn’t loiter to provide support. They were unarmed, and the chances of losing the other aircraft too were high. They all understood that ejection meant they were on their own. It was a risk they all knew and accepted.
“Any questions?” Spectre asked as he completed the brief.
“When do we get the kimchi?” Woody asked.
“Sierra will have as much as you want waiting for us when we get to Osan,” Spectre replied as he looked at his watch. “Let’s get going.”
The crews suited up and stepped to the aircraft. The two Flankers had been towed out of the hangar and parked next to the Global 8000. Spectre and Woody both completed their walkarounds, paying special attention to the pods that DARPA had installed on the left wing of each aircraft. The pods were designed to look like AA-12 air to air missiles but were actually highly advanced electronic attack pods.
With the walkaround complete, Spectre fastened his harness and climbed up the ladder. A crew chief followed him up and helped him strap in. Spectre shook his hand and the crew chief nodded. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other the entire time he’d been in country, and Spectre didn’t even know the man’s name. It was all part of the compartmentalization of the mission.
Spectre did a preflight sweep of the switches in the cockpit, moving from left to right, and then turned the battery on. He turned the intercom on to establish communications with Cowboy in the backseat.
“Test – test. How do you read?” Spectre asked.
“Loud and clear, mate. How me?”
“Got you same. You ready back there?”
“Let’s do it!”
Spectre gave the crew chief the signal and started the Auxiliary Power Unit (APU). It whirred to life just as Woody started his. As he went through the startup sequence and preflight checks, Spectre realized it might be the last time he ever started a jet. From this point on, they were playing for keeps.
Both crews went through their preflight checks and the Global 8000 crew started their aircraft. When his before taxi checklist was complete, Spectre looked over at Woody who gave him a thumbs up.
“Empire check aux,” Spectre said on the secondary radio.
“Two!” Woody replied.
“Empire One-One, check,” Spectre said over the primary frequency.
“Two!”
“Empires are ready,” Spectre said, letting the Global 8000 pilot know that they were ready to go.
“Da,” came the reply from the male voice. The Global 8000 began its taxi just as the orange glow of the sun peaked over the hangars.
Spectre and Woody turned their taxi lights on and followed. They were immediately cleared for takeoff as the Global 8000 reached the end of the runway, and one by one they took off.
Spectre rejoined on the Global’s right wing as Woody rejoined on its left. They turned southwest and climbed. In just a few minutes, they would be entering North Korean airspace.
Spectre said a small prayer to himself as the Global checked in with the North Korean controllers, requesting permission to enter the airspace. He prayed that if he didn’t make it out alive, that Michelle and Cal Jr would be taken care of and live happy and healthy lives without the threat of world war.
“Cleared into North Korean airspace,” the advanced DARPA software translated the controller’s words into Spectre’s headset.
There was no turning back.