Mojave chuckled "I think I can handle myself... Fox three!" Twelve seconds passed before she yelled "Fuck!"
She needs help. Taking a deep breath, I followed her flight path, going two thousand feet higher. My F-22 accelerated better than the prototype ones sold of for training purposes, soon catching up to Mojaves last known position. I toggled a switch and said "Mojave, my fighter is not yet configured to our squadron, need your signature to track you!"
A screech registered across my radio. Frowning, I changed the frequency "Base, please respond." Silence.
Sighing, I looked for vapour trails- a faint one caught my attention, disappearing into a cloud below. My plane dipped into the cloud and as I emerged, I barely managed to find the next. A black dot caught my eye, way up in the sky. What the hell is that?
A distant roar caught my attention. My eyes shifted, looking for the source. Dammit, where is that coming from?!
Another distant roar. Groaning, I looked around, Dukes words still sticking in my head: Young, take care of Sidewinder while I'm gone. I thought she can take care of herself. It still pulled at me and my stomach dropped. Dammit, you've only been here for a few days with strangers, get your head together. But they didn't feel like strangers, more like really good friends that I've known for years.
Something loud went by my plane. I looked back up at the black dot and thought what if that's jamming my radar?
Looking reluctantly at the trails and then at the dot, the thought of being wrong weighed me down. My after burner went red hot and my plane angled sixty degrees straight up. A minute passed and the dot came into focus. What the fuck?!
A massive plane almost like an AC-130 gunship flew in a straight line, a massive dish on top. Tracer rounds flew from it, trying to catch me. Can't get me that easy. I easily strafed back and forth, dodging every round. There must be more than just that.
An lock on alarm pinged. Two hellfire missiles launched from my plane and streaked towards the plane. Dozens upon dozens of flares deployed from the target, easily confusing the missiles. You have got to be joking!
Bullets fired from my nose, doing little damage to it's thick armour. Grimacing, I punched it and closed the distance. Fourteen hundred meters... six hundred... go! Missiles launched from my plane, smacking the left wing of the plane. The beast reluctantly banked left in a smoky plume, falling to the earth. A black dish on the top of the plane caught my eye. Radar? Why would the dish be so big then?
I finally caught on and practically yelled into my radio "Mojave!"
Static can in response. I almost slapped my forehead as I realized the radar dish must still be online and would continue to be online until the plane crashed. I decreased in altitude, soaring a thousand feet above the clouds upside down. An explosion caught my eye, just in the clouds. My fighter dipped down and I soared towards the earth. Mojaves F-22 came into view, trying to dodge two J-20s fire. I pulled up at their altitude, travelling towards a J-20. Mojave soared past me as I squeezed of a couple hundred rounds into the J-20, lacking the time to get a proper lock-on. I shredded in mid-air, combusted and tumbled towards the earth, the pilot ejecting.
The static quit. My heart jumped and I said into the radio "Scratch one, sidewinder, how many else are there?!"
She replied "One more J-20 and a bomber, eyes only for the bomber hornet."
A faint foreign voice screamed over my com. Frowning, I banked left towards the remaining fleeing J-20 and asked "Sidewinder, you hear that?"
"Affirmative, something else must have been encrypting their coms for them."
It seemed to get louder as Sidewinder caught up to the last Fighter, firing missiles. A cold rage I barely realized I was even having came to light as I compared his plight to mine.