Starfire
Copyright© 2025 by Mark Randall
Chapter 23
When Thad stepped onto the flight deck, he saw Max Eastman and his pilots on the other end of the flight deck. When Max spotted Thad, he came storming over, obviously upset. “It’s about time you showed up. What are you playing at, Sawyer?”
“What do you mean, Max? Are you in a hurry or something?” Thad said, soothingly.
“You know what I mean? Where have you been? You should have been here half an hour ago.”
“Oh, that,” Thad waved his hand dismissively. “I had more important things that needed doing.”
“What could be possibly more important than this?” Max demanded
“Well, I needed to make reservations for dinner tonight.”
Max’s jaw dropped, and his face turned red. “D, D, Dinner reservations.” He stuttered, “You held everybody up over dinner reservations?”
“Calm down, Max,” Thad gently replied. “It isn’t good for old guys like you to get upset. It raises your blood pressure. You know.”
Max stood speechless, and Thad continued. “Perhaps you should increase your fiber and avoid sugar, I hear you older guys have problems that way.”
Before Max could react, COB Jones came onto the flight deck. “Gentlemen,” he called out. “You know the rules. Blue flight leads off, and Red Flight follows 10 minutes later. Are there any questions?” When there wasn’t, he finished with “Good luck and fly safe”, and then left the deck.
Almost immediately, the overheads announced, “Pilots, man your Starfires.”
Max rushed over to his pilots, and it was obvious that he was angry. He was waving his arms and almost yelling. What he was saying wasn’t clear, but from the tone, it was apparent.
Thad was smiling when he turned to his team. “Well, guys, we’ve got at least 10 minutes, so this should be a good time for using the head.” Thad then started walking towards that facility.
When Max joined his pilots, he was madder than he remembered ever being. “That little snot-nose punk,” he started, “He needs to be taught a lesson, be brought down a peg.” The pilots, Spencer Allen and David Krueger, looked at each other. They knew that Eastman had a temper, but this was at a new and frightening level. Both wisely kept quiet.
Max huffed and puffed for a moment, then stopped. He looked at the two pilots. “I don’t care how you do it, but I want that punk humiliated. I want everybody on this bucket to know what a blowhard he is.” He then turned and stomped off the flight deck.
Allen and Krueger were both on their second rock hunter job. They were good, steady pilots, but they were bored on the long trip to the far side. They took the bulldog gig to get flight time and for the extra spending money. They planned that as soon as the Seward arrived at the far side, they would move on to more profitable ventures. There was also quiet speculation that Allen had spent some time as a pirate.
After their launch, Allen and Krueger raced to the position they had planned on intercepting the Dragons when they launched and waited for 10 long minutes.
Spencer Allen was starting to get antsy and impatient. “Where are they at, Kruger? It’s been too long.”
“It hasn’t been 10 minutes yet. Spence. Just cool it.” David Kruger replied.
Just then, they could see the three Dragon Starfires launch.
“OK, Spence. Here they come.”
“Great. Let’s get this over with. I don’t want Eastman breathing down our neck like before.”
“OK, OK, let’s get to it then.” Kruger accelerated towards the approaching Dragons. His computer started announcing the range in time to target.
“All right, Spence, when we get into missile range, I’ll power up my targeting radar. I’m pretty sure that bird in the lead is Sawyer.”
“Copy,” Kruger answered.
As soon as Dragon Flight cleared the launch bay, Thad activated his search radar. Within seconds, he got a return.
“Computer, identify radar signal.”
“Pilot, radar shows two targets. The database identifies them as Starfire fighters designated Bulldog three and Bulldog four. Pilots are...”
“Computer hold,” Thad said, “Range to target?”
“Targets are at 5200 kilometers. Be advised, range is decreasing.”
“Good, that means they’ve spotted us. Computer display closure rate and range.” A digital display appeared on his monitor.
Thad then activated his radio. “Bravo actual to chicks. They’ve spotted us and are on the way. Keep cool, and when I give the word, we’ll execute starburst.”
Thad waited patiently until the Bulldogs were down to 600 kilometers and just outside of missile range. Thad got back on the radio. “OK, guys, starburst, in three, two, and one.”
Manny split left and down, and Willie went right and down. Thad went straight up. As Thad was accelerating away, he kept his eye on his rear monitor. When he saw that both Bulldogs were pursuing him, he grinned. “Bravo, chicks, it looks like I’ll be playing a little game of follow the leader. Advise me when you’re set.”
With a hint of amusement in their voices, they acknowledged. “Copy, Skipper. Give us a couple of minutes.”
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