A Difficult Moment
"I hear you've tangled with an Indian Su-30?"
"Turned with one at low altitude. The Su-30's power is impressive. If that aircraft hadn't been loaded down with R-27s, its close-in performance would have been even stronger."
"In a Thunder, would you have a chance of shooting one down?"
"At close range, certainly, if we had a helmet-mounted sight or an electro-optical sensor; combined with sound tactics, there'd be a chance. But the Thunder as it stands isn't exactly complete." The group captain sounded displeased with the Thunder's sparse air-to-air electronics. Song Ning knew perfectly well that No. 26 Squadron's aircraft were the first batch, assembled by Pakistan, fitted with a cut-down French avionics suite. Air Headquarters had conceived the Thunder as a cheap ground-attack platform and had been reluctant to spend on air-combat equipment. The aircraft could neither engage targets at beyond-visual-range nor deliver precision-guided munitions.
"I'm sure medium-range missiles will come eventually. An electro-optical system too, probably." Song Ning offered what comfort he could. He knew that compatibility issues after the retrofit meant the Thunder could not yet fire Chinese-made BVR missiles; for now, it went up with nothing but short-range missiles and dumb bombs.
"The J-10 you've brought is a decent aircraft. I've flown the A-model before. No phased-array radar on that one. Roughly on par with an F-16C, I'd say."
"Don't remind me. Those two aircraft are giving me a headache."
Song Ning's radio crackled. He raised it to speak. Sami, standing nearby, showed no sign of leaving; he apparently had something more to say.
"Chief, new orders from home. You are to fly the unarmed J-10Bs to Peshawar immediately and hand them over to PAF No. 37 Tactical Training Wing.1 The entire delegation is to relocate to Northern Air Command for further instructions." It was Xiang Xiaohui, the delegation's communications officer, who had been waiting aboard their transport since before dawn for word from Beijing.
"Any mention of when we go home?" Song Ning asked loudly. He knew Sami couldn't understand Chinese.
"No. Higher command wants us to stay at the front and continue collecting operational data."
"Right. Tell Old Zhou to contact the Pakistani command post immediately and arrange a takeoff slot. Have Zhao Lin get everyone together and start flight prep. Top off the fuel. And the missiles on the wings have to come off; we can't fly armed through a combat zone. Crate them up and put them on the transport. I'm on my way."
"Copy."
Song Ning switched off the radio and turned to Sami.
"Group Captain, let's not dance around it. I know what you're thinking, but I can't let you fly a test sortie today. We're transferring to Peshawar. The aircraft go to 37 Wing."
"Group Captain, this is wartime. These two aircraft still carry PLA Air Force markings. I cannot take the risk of you flying them. If something goes wrong, it becomes a political incident. I'd face a court martial."
"So what's your plan? Hand over our wing's new aircraft to 37 Wing? They're a training unit. They fly J-7Ps. They can't put an advanced aircraft into combat…"
"Save that argument for your Air Headquarters. Giving the aircraft to 37 Wing is your government's decision, not mine. I need to execute my orders to the letter."
"I understand your position, but…"
The air-raid siren cut him off. A moment later, a low, heavy engine roar reached them from the distance. Both men stopped and listened, trying to identify the threat. After a few seconds, they heard something descending through the overcast, a shrill whistle growing louder.
"Group Captain, what is that?"
"That's not an Indian aircraft. It's… some kind of ramjet… a drone, or…"
While they were still puzzling, an enormous BrahMos2 cruise missile tore past them at barely above ground level, visibly turning as it hugged the terrain. It flew straight for the line of hardened shelters at the end of the runway.
The blast came before either man could drop to the ground. Five hundred metres away, Shelter No. 1 disintegrated.
Song Ning said nothing. He sprinted toward the shelters. He knew the two J-10s were in the shelters behind the one that had just been hit, but his first concern was his people. A second wave could arrive at any moment, though he had no time to think about that.
It took him several minutes to reach the burning wreckage. He slowed. Pakistani base personnel were running in every direction. A fire truck had just arrived and was beginning to spray water on a twisted, unrecognisable airframe. Several people were pulling survivors from the rubble. Kamra was in pandemonium. The heat drove Song Ning back. He circled wide to reach the intact shelter behind the devastation. Its blast door was open. Inside, several Chinese technicians were working on an aircraft as though nothing had happened.
"Anyone hurt?" Song Ning shouted. The mechanic Zhou Guoqing, perched on a ladder, was head-down in the aircraft and did not react. Probably deafened by the blast. Xiang Xiaohui came stumbling in from outside.
"Chief, thank God you're here."
"What's the situation? Any casualties?"
"Most of our people are in here. No injuries. Only Zhao Lin was standing outside. He took shrapnel in the leg. The Pakistanis have already taken him to the hospital. I sent Li the interpreter with him. We'll have word soon."
"How bad?"
"I had a look. Not serious. But he definitely can't fly."
"Damn. Him of all people. How am I supposed to get the aircraft out now?"
"Should we notify Beijing?"
"No time. The next strike could come any moment. Obviously these shelters are the target."
1. No. 37 Tactical Training Wing (第37战术训练联队): A PAF training unit that operates the Chengdu F-7PG (Chinese-built MiG-21 variant). Sami's objection that a training wing flying old J-7Ps cannot operate J-10Bs in combat is the crux of the argument that leads to his involvement. ↩
2. BrahMos (布拉莫斯导弹): The BrahMos PJ-10, a supersonic cruise missile jointly developed by India and Russia. It flies at Mach 2.8, carries a 200–300 kg warhead, and uses a ramjet sustainer after an initial solid-rocket boost. Its characteristic sound; a ramjet whistle rather than a jet-engine roar; is what Sami identifies just before impact. The missile's ability to fly at very low altitude and manoeuvre around terrain makes it extremely difficult to intercept. Its use against Kamra's hardened shelters marks the first employment of a strategic standoff weapon in the novel. ↩