Editing Mercenaries and planes (section)

==="Gold Rush"===
====Briefing====


*BlackFlag Internal Document
 #100337
*Mission Briefing
“Gold Rush”
*Deployment
Kitona
*Pancake
Kisangani
*Alternate
Luanda (Angola)
*AAR
Il-78 Midas “Conoco” available
*AWACS
R-99 “Bird Dog” available temporarily
*CSAR
None

*Contract Employer
Internal Emergency Tasking

*Objective
Cover our withdrawal from Kitona.

*Background
Seems like we aren't out of the woods yet. Airfield security picked up a suspicious person who had been hanging around for several days. After a brief interrogation, we found he was an informant for the United Kingdom, and it seems like he's been documenting when our aircraft have departed and arrived. Our intel sources confirm that there has been a lot of traffic in their Ministry of Defense, so most likely our spin control will not enable us to keep this incident contained, and the British will be launching a reprisal strike soon. We're not taking any chances. As of 0300, we began evacuating our temporary facilities here at Kitona. All available air transport craft have been diverted to assist in the airlift. We suspect that the UK's Invincible class carrier, the HMS Ark Royal is currently moving into position at best speed, although they've apparently been enforcing strict radio discipline and cloud cover continues to negate our satellite overflights. We've been lucky, it looks like the Royal Navy is playing their cards close to their chest, and have decided to not stir up a public furor about the MS Queen Vic, maybe trying to put us at ease while they prepare to hit us. In any case, on first contact from Bird Dog, intercept and delay the strike package for as long as possible. We should be completely clear of the airfield within the next six hours, but every second you buy us counts. Protect the transports to the best of your ability, and then withdraw to op point Baker and meet up with Conoco for refueling and escort to Kisangani.

*HUMINT
We couldn't get much more out of the informer, he died before the interrogation was over.
*ELINT
Nothing yet.
*SATINT
Cloud Cover has hindered our data collection.
*Air Assets
Unknown. Protect the 4x C-27J, 2 AN-12s, 2 IL-76 and 1 AN-22.
*Surface Assets
HMS Ark Royal, Unknown escorts.

*Threat Assessment
Unknown. Royal Navy doctrine will require them to have visuals on targets before firing, but once they've established that they're not shooting at a civilian airliner or airfield, you can expect the strikes to begin. We're expecting a cruise missile strike on the airfield no more than 15 minutes after their initial strike force confirms our presence.

*ROE
Engage at will. Aircraft attacking the transport planes are priority targets.

====Recap====
Steve started by asking us all if we understood what we needed to do, as always. We then picked our gear. Hugs didn't have anything to do, since he was already loaded. I took 4 AMRAAMs and 4 AIM-9s, as did Biscuit. Scotch took 6 AIM-9s. We had asked around prior to the flight, and found out the base had no anti-air guns, they had been packed away already. We had also talked about alternates, and figured that if needed, an escape to Angola would be our best bet if we couldn't make it to the refueler or Kisangani. We talked to the weather briefer, and he told us we could expect an overcast at 9000 ft, so that might be an issue. The cloud layer was thick, extending 3000 or so ft higher, and there was drizzle in some areas, outright rain in others, the beginning of a storm system that was developing. We still had no idea where the fleet was as circled above the clouds. We tanked with the Midas, which then began proceeding to the rendezvous point. We were told that the final personnel were now on their way to the waiting aircraft.

It was pretty clear to us that the company didn't have a lot of faith in our defensive abilities, since we found out that the Midas and Bird Dog were being escorted by some of Blackwood's Hussars. It was still cool to imagine us tanking on the Midas with its MiG-31 and F-18 escort. We didn't have a chance to find out what was flying with the R-99 because Bird Dog called and told us we had some contacts closing from the Northwest. It was at extreme range for them, so they weren't sure, but their track path was going to put them over the airfield in about 30 minutes. Just three targets, although there were other targets 200 miles from the airfield, although it seemed that our airspace had been sanitized. The company had told us before we launched that the flight plans of major airlines seemed to be filed around our airspace, probably due to interference by the British MoD. We began to talk strategy, when Steve put down additional markers, three more in fact, south and to the west of the original three. Both were headed to Kitona. I joined up with Hugs to investigate the northern group, while Biscuit and Scotch remained over the airfield. We were then told that Bird Dog would begin a withdrawal soon, to keep distance between it and these contacts.

As we headed out, we flew in tight formation, talking about strategy. We both had our radars off, still 200 miles from the contacts. We figured that we'd pound on them with our search radars, (well, really, Hugs radar) try to scare them off, maybe force them to reconsider this approach. Since we'd be closer, we were also hoping to find out a bit more about the group then Bird Dog could tell us. Our engagement plan was pretty simple, fire at range, see if we could break the formation. Hugs decided we were close enough, and powered up the big radar on his jet. Steve let us move another phase, and then dropped seven more contact markers on the map where before there had been three. Hugs looked at me, and then said through his “mask” (he always muffled his voice with his hands, which while stupid, sounds cool) “Multiple contacts, on the plus side, we know you're not shooting down an airliner today.” We moved towards the contacts, changing our plan to 'shoot and run'. And then Steve dropped another four markers into the mass flying at us.

Then things got worse, since a big search radar hit us, and locked on almost immediately. Hugs was shouting something so I dumped chaff and began a hard turn back the way we came. Hugs did the same thing and began to push back towards the base. As Hugs turned, he scored a radar spot on the other group, which was lucky considering his Rwr was going crazy. Steve put three more markers down on the southern group. Just so you realize, we now had 14 contacts in the North, and 6 in the west, all heading towards us. Steve also put down three surface based radar sources, one of them dangerously close to us. We were heading away, and I asked for a book on UK missiles. Another 20 miles and we would have probably been shot to pieces by a destroyer/frigate of some type, that apparently had been hiding/running cold until Hugs blasted his radar openly. We needed a new plan, we were now restricted to certain airspace, since we didn't feel like going up against ships with an itchy trigger finger. We decided to still make a long range strike, but from a bit closer to the airfield. Since we were allready heading back anyway, Scotch and Biscuit turned to join up with us, as we changed our intercept course towards the six aircraft south of us. Bird Dog figured they'd be arriving at Kitona first anyway, and if we took a long range shot, we might be able to take them down cleanly. But right now we wanted to get together to maximize firepower. Steve started to put down another contact, but this time it was flipped over, and coming off the airfield, so we let out a breath. The first transport was off and climbing out.

As we flew south, we were told by birddog that some of the northern targets had changed course, and were now tracking to a point south of the airfield. It looked like they were going to try to stay between us and the group they were leaving. We all decided that this was the fighter wing escorting the main strike package. None of the contacs over there were changing speed or course other than that. Then the bad news, about 100 miles ahead of us, the six we were tracking suddenly rocketed forward, heading towards the airfield, and because of their position, Biscuit and Scotch as well. The contacts were doing Mach 1.5 now, and Hugs and I turned to intercept, pushing our jets faster then we had anticipated. Scotch called, saying he was getting hit by a radar, but not fire control. We had no clue what these aircraft were, and they were still accelerating. Hugs didn't like it, so we all decided, this group was going down in flames, no point holding back. Bird Dog started giving us tracking information, while Hugs did his own thing. He was going to hold fire on his big missiles until he was about 35 miles, ensuring a high kill probability.

We continued our approach, watching all the contacts closing on the airfield. Another transport crawled into the air, this time an Il-76. Then Hugs opened fire, FOX THREE, FOX THREE, FOX THREE, FOX THREE, four missiles arcing off his rails, pushing ahead and up, getting kinematic energy. The missiles tracked in towards the targets, who were now diving for the deck, pushing up near Mach 2 at this point. Biscuit got ready to cold launch his AMRAAMs, as did I, while Scotched started to set up for a close intercept since he only had short range weaponry. Sandy decided now was a good time to take part. He told us “I cover my nuts with my hand, and tell my WSO to light it up.” His Aardvark's massive Jammer Pods roared into action, sending out “waves of jamming radiation” according to Steve. Biscuit rippled off his AMRAAMs, and I sent two of mine into the fray as well. The aircraft were pushing downwards, jinking, so they obviously knew they had incoming.

Scotch circled into a reverse turn, Biscuit following, so that the planes would pass underneath them, and then they'd light the burners chasing them. The question was how many would they be chasing? And how much faster were they going to go? Our missiles merged with the contacts, we held our breath as Steve rolled some dice, and then began to pull off markers. The force lost four aircraft to our ten missiles. We didn't know who had hit what, but that didn't matter. A two on two was something Biscuit and Scotch could handle, and as it was Hugs and me were out of position to chase them, since they had a speed advantage and we could at best, match their speed. So we turned north east, and pushed hard, racing towards the other massive force coming at the base. Scotch and Biscuit completed their half loop, their burners sending plumes of brown smoke through the sky as they began their dive as the two remaining aircraft roared underneath them at mach 2.1. Scotch made the spot “TORNADOS!”

The second IL-76 climbed off Kitona, heading away from us and the developing air war. The Tornados must have spotted Scotch and Biscuit, since they popped a few flares as they kept pushing hard toward the airfield, getting low and very fast. Scotch got a lock and let loose a sidewinder, but Biscuit didn't get anything on the two he tried to launch, failing both rolls (followed by much swearing). Scotch's missile raced after the Tornado, and locked on to the afterburners, detonating aft. The Tornado continued on, trailing some black smoke, and quickly exiting sidewinder engagement range. Scotch and Biscuit were fucking furious, going to full burner and climbing to meet us. The Tornado's were a lost cause now.

Sandy provided a last line of defence, lighting up his radar, and having one of his Jammer pods imitate a SAM launch, which caused both Tornados to pull hard south, dumping chaff. Steve made a few rolls, and then told us, that as the Tornado's pulled away, the one trailing smoke suddenly began to pour smoke from one of it's engines, and panels were blowing away, flames pushing out from the damaged engine. He told Scotch that as he looked over, the plane burped flamed, then disintegrated into a Mach 2+ fireball, before crashing into the Atlantic. The other Tornado began a slow turn, heading towards the airfield again, but at least we'd delayed it, it would arrive at the same time as the Harriers now. We were told that a C-27J was pushing into the air off the field. Biscuit Scotch joined up behind Hugs and me by a bunch of miles. The four targets between us and the main force began closing on us, turning slightly to try to keep us away from the strike formation. We looked at the distances and hatched a quick plan, and then went to full military burner, racing headfirst at the defensive patrol. We all hit our Radars, figuring we may as well try to scare the shit out of them.

We all broke the sound Barrier, although I will admit that Hugs was kicking the crap out of our tubs, blasting forward like some angry goose necked harbinger of death. He dumped his last two Alamo's at 50 miles, which gave them a pretty good energy boost from his own aircraft's speed. The rest of us were pushing up in speed, and I will admit, the distance I covered in a phase was pretty awesome, I had not had the Phantom up this fast ever before, and even on the table top I was thinking “For a 40 year old plane, this thing can haul ass!” I pumped off my AMRAAMs as I crossed the 25 mile line, with Hugs about 5 miles ahead of me. His two Alamos impacted, wiping out one of the Harriers (Made his spot check). Well, one of them missed, but the other didn't. My AMRAAMs came down, also knocking out one of the Harrier's, this one turning towards Hugs. Hugs roared through the formation at Mach 1.7ish, and asked Steve something. Steve was moving both remaining harriers in an impossibly tight maneuver, apparently they had slowed, using vectored thrust to help pivot to slap into a rear aspect shot on the Flanker. Both of them launched, Hugs pumping out flares, and cut burners. And then Hugs told Steve he was using his hemet reticule to launch an archer. So, flying through a loose formation of Harriers in a Flanker at almost double the speed of sound, Hugs launched a missile sideways off the rail towards one of the offending Harriers.

Another C-27J took off the runway at Kitona, the remaining Tornado quickly closing on the base. Hugs archer missed, but the follow up from Biscuit did not. The rest of us couldn't get locks, so we dumped flares and roared past the three flaming harriers falling towards the Atlantic, the fourth shooting, but missing at Scotch. Our momentum, like the Tornados, was an advantage. We were cutting into our fuel, but we had a lot, and now the other Air to Air Harrier was in a tail chase towards us, and it wouldn't win. We were now banging away with our Radar, despite having nothing BVR to shoot. The strike force accelerated a bit, but not much, but descending down below the clouds near the coast. We'd have a very short time after intercept until they were over the base.

Sandy angled towards the base, lighting off his own cans and going to maximum sweep. We approached the main strike package, but were not going to have much time to do anything, and there was still a lot of aircraft on the ground, despite the AN-22 getting into the air. We were then told that Bird Dog was bugging out, but that a gift was on the way. We had no clue what that meant, all we knew for certain was that our AWAACs was leaving us, so it was our own eyeballs. We dropped below the clouds, emerging into the darker lower altitudes below, our plains pelted by rain as we came off the burners, still on our supersonic intercept towards the mass of what we assumed were Harriers closing on the base. And then the lone Tornado made its run.

The Tornado passed low over the base, having slowed to make it's attack run. The canisters on it's wings flew open, and it flew the length of the runway, dispensing runway cratering munitions, and in the process wiping out the C-27 on it's takeoff roll, first by popping off a wing, and then the flaming craft dropped into a crater and rolled, tossing men and equipment into the air as it completed its flaming death throes. The Tornado began climbing, chasing after the large AN-22 that was slowly climbing out. We on the other hand, were just entering attack range, when three harriers almost stopped in mid air, disappearing behind Hugs and me in a blur of navy gray. Hugs couldn't get a lock, and I didn't have the aspect to do so, I did have a shot ahead of me, so I launched a sidewinder, switched targets, and launched another one. Both planes jinked, dumping flares, and whatever ordnance they were carrying. Small victory I suppose, and then both my missiles missed. Hugs meanwhile was cartwheeling sideways through the air, trying to manage speed so that he could get a lock on the Harrier's behind him. Then they launched.

I took a near hit, my hydraulic pressure dipping immediately. I checked the engine gauges, punched into burner, and climbed out of there. Hugs was still trying to get a lock, finally getting one, launching an archer, but yet again the damn thing missed. Luckily Scotch and Biscuit came in, both launching two missiles, ripping one Harrier apart, before zooming by towards the rest of the force. The Tornado was closing on the AN-22, and also launched two sidewinders, one going wide but the other impacting the cargo harrier, setting an engine on fire quite badly. Sandman roared in from behind, having finally caught up, in a supersonic gun pass, stitching rounds across the sky, and hitting the Tornado. He saw some smoke and an ejection. Unfortunately, based on his angle, a few stray shells hit the antonov hull, causing some more damage, but nothing too serious luckily. Figuring he's be less than useless in a dogfight with Harriers, Sandy burner climbed, ECM still pumping out, although since everything was degenerating into a dogfight it seemed pointless.

Hugs finally had turned, just in time to see two sidewinders closing on him. He took a direct hit, which blew off a chunk of his tail and wrecked one of his engines. His return fire silenced the Harrier though. He also disengaged, climbing to meet me above the clouds. Biscuit and Scotch were now engaged, until their sidewinders ran dry. They took out one more Harrier, but the rest were getting through, and Biscuit paid for it, getting into a turning fight with one of the British pilots, and losing, suffering a heavy hit that almost smashed his aircraft out of the sky, and sending shrapnel through him and his backseater, killing the backseater. There really was no winning at this point, Scotch was fine, but heading back into that pack was murder. The gift didn't help, four Phoenix missiles arrived on scene, and missed every single Harrier they were aimed at. The harriers overflew the base, dumping there iron and cluster bombs, obliterating the remaining aircraft on the ground, the hangars, barracks, fuel dump. We climbed out, hoping that they wouldn't pursue, since we no longer had a speed advantage. They didn't seem interested in us, so we tailed the AN-22, noting that the fires had been extinguished, making sure none of the UK jets continued at us. We learned a big lesson, going toe to toe with superior numbers in a dogfight is a bad idea.

As we climbed out, the Antonov told us it wouldn't make Kisangani, and was turning south towards Luanda. Hugs broke off with Biscuit to provide what cover they could, since they also planned to land in Angola. I formed up with Scotch who did a visual on me, telling me that I'd lost some control surfaces, and had some light smoke, but nothing major. We decided to head to Kisangani, and met up with the tanker. As they approached Luanda, Biscuit rolled poorly, and his remaining engine failed. He started a glide, but wasn't going to make it. He ejected over an open area, close to the main city, punching out, trying to keep the aircraft pointed away from the city. He didn't make it. His Phantom augered into the ground, followed by Biscuit tangled in a faulty parachute deployment. That REALLY sucked. Hugs rode what remained of his Flanker in to the field, sumping his munitions and fuel, and then having his leaft gear collapse on landing. His aircraft was damaged, but recoverable. Scotch, Sandy and myself landed at Kisangani with no incident.

====Summary====
Steve, if you're reading this, please fill in the blanks for us.

====Further developments====
Now, it seems that your actions at Kitoma shook up some of the chaps at Main Building. Our local assets have been meeting with the required members of the UK governing body, and have convinced them to simply sweep the entire incident under the rug. The official explanation for the Queen Victoria disaster will be attributed to being struck with a misfiring harpoon from the Danish Corvette that was operating in the area, and had suffered an uncontrollable fire. It's tenuous, but we're paying off a research tank, and funding a Discovery channel special, so we think the public will bite, and forget about it within a week or two. In any case, we shouldn't have any further problems with the UK regarding the incident, and they'll be working hard to cover up the bloody nose you gave their rushed response.

Unfortunately, we didn't recover our entire deployed force, so while we work on rebuilding that, we're going to hire you out to nation as privateers. You'll operate under their flag, but retain control over the logistics of your operation, as well as some initiative for planning and execution of tasks. Now, we've had two parties come forward, and surprisingly it's not some two-bit tin pot dictator in a banana republic. The People's Republic of China, and the Russian Federation have both expressed interest in hiring your flight as an auxillary air arm of their respective Air Force.

They're both keeping their operational requirements and objectives secret. We suspect that Russia is considering action against Georgia, as a follow up to the war of 2009. Intel has not been able to figure out the Chinese intentions. Contract terms are favourable. The Chinese are offering top dollar, in addition to on-mission incentives. They are also willing to open their armoury to you, providing you with Chines built weapons at zero cost, however they will not be added to your personal stocks. All weapons not utilized are returnable to the People's Liberation Army Air Force. The Russians are still suffering economically, and as such, after the BlackFlag standard rate, their per mission bid is significantly lower. That being said, they have extensive stocks of soviet era technology, and are willing to sell it to you at discount. Corporate decided that they'd let you choose final contract, the files are free for you to examine. When you've made your decision, call OPS, and they'll begin the necessary preparations for your unit deployment.


"Hugs and Scotch want to do the Russian stuff, while Sandy and Biscuit want China. We don't know if Biscuit gets a say, since his character joins up with our wing, as biscuit is dead."