Whoosh! Whoosh!
AIM-120 missiles dropped from their pylons, their rocket motors igniting as they flew toward their locked targets under AWACS guidance.
Hyena Squadron, launch missiles.
The E-2 Hawkeye watched the data-linked missiles fly head-on toward the enemy. Under normal circumstances, the F18s should have disengaged and returned after firing, but the enemy was not human aircraft. The F18s would likely need to enter WVR visual-range combat.
Hyena 1 to all aircraft, targets in range. Turn on your formation lights.
At the squadron leader's command, all the US Military pilots switched on their formation lights. Looking down at the inky cumulonimbus clouds below, their breathing grew heavy.
Close-range dogfighting. It was far too unfamiliar to them!
Crash!
The rain came down even harder!
Torrential raindrops hammered the destroyer cruising across the ocean, an old warship that had served the empire for thirty years.
The Stout (DDG-55, Arleigh Burke-class) belonged to the Truman Carrier Strike Group and was responsible for monitoring the ocean east of Sky Pit.
Its sea-and-air search radar swept the surrounding airspace. Aside from vast swaths of clutter, the radar detected no sea or air targets.
The captain stood in the combat information center, staring intently at the radar. Since earlier, electromagnetic clutter had been interfering with it. According to the Carl Vinson's combat records, whenever the radar was jammed, either the 815A was playing Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf, or an alien civilization was approaching!
"Still no sign of the enemy?" the captain asked gravely.
"Sir! No! The radar interference is severe!" the radar officer replied loudly.
Watching the clutter steadily intensify on the screen, the captain knew perfectly well what it represented. He felt as though an invisible rope were tightening around his neck. "Increase main-lobe anti-jamming. Can we contact the Wizard?"
"No! Communications interference