Chimera

Once again the PLAAF had been tasked with hitting Paru airport. A J-10 unit had done this successfully the day before. And died doing it. Not one single pilot had returned from the eight aircraft sent. But the attack had been successful and Feng and Chen were pleased enough to try it again. This time they were throwing a J-8II squadron on the job.

The PLA General leading the Highland Division on the ground in Bhutan was convinced that the airport at Paru must be shut down permanently in order to secure victory. As one of the only theaters where any chance of success now lay for the battered PLA, Beijing had allocated priority and Wencang had been asked to assist with his fighter-bombers.

Then there was also the issue of a Indian MBRL battery at Paru, which was laying waste to the Highland Division’s attempts to break into, and capture, Thimpu. Chinese satellites had located the battery north of Paru and three of the J-8IIs were tasked with the elimination of that target. Another three were armed purely for air-to-air combat.

The squadron-commander knew what he was leading his men into. That was why he was commanding this mission despite strict orders from his regiment’s political officer. Everybody knew what the chances of survival from this mission were.

But if they could get in and strike their targets, that was all that would matter at this point. If they were lucky, some of them would make it back. If not, they would most likely be ejecting over areas of Bhutan already under control of the Highland Division…

The squadron-commander checked the map display in front of him and then scanned the sky around. Ten more minutes before he would order his flights to hit the deck and approach the Bhutanese border as low as possible. For now, fuel was to be conserved for combat.

A KJ-2000 AWACS to the north was providing him airborne radar coverage. His radar warning receiver squawked and started giving warnings. The Indian AEW radar had spotted them…

But we are still ten minutes out from our low-profile phase!

He double checked his maps. The Indian AEW bird was flying far towards the north and probably over northern Bhutan right then!

But why?

It didn’t matter. Not then anyway. He switched on his radio and spoke to the rest of his squadron pilots:

“The Indians know we are here! They venture into our territory today! We will improvise. A low-level approach no longer matters for the air-to-air flight. Punch your tanks and accelerate to cover us! Engage their patrols and buy us time to break through to our targets. All others: watch for enemy fighters! Go!”

All nine J-8IIs dropped their external tanks in unison, punched afterburners and accelerated. The six ground-strike aircraft dived low while the three aerial escorts climbed to higher altitude and went active on missile tracking radars. The RWR inside his helmet was now continually screeching. His own AWACS told him that three Indian Su-30s were accelerating to meet his force north of the Bhutanese border.

They wish to fight us on our own soil today!

So be it!

He pulled his aircraft as low above the plains of Tibet as he dared. In front of him, the snowcapped peaks of the Greater Himalayas were approaching on the horizon…

Three streaks of white smoke appeared above those peaks and headed north, above his head. The Indians had engaged his air-to-air equipped flight above him. He saw six streaks of smoke heading south in retaliation from that flight. He risked turning his head momentarily above and saw two fireballs falling out of the sky.

Those bastards!

* * *

The three Indian Su-30s engaged their powerful electronic-warfare suites to spoof the incoming missiles at the same time as they dropped chaff and flares. They had dived low, pulled north of the peaks on the Bhutanese border and slashed back over Tibet. The Group-Captain leading the offensive fighter-sweep over the Tibet was having a pleasant day…

“King-Hammer to all Hammer elements: Engage! Engage! Don’t let any of these bastards get home for lunch today!”

He snapped his massive Sukhoi to its side and noticed several J-8IIs streaking below him at low altitude and heading south. They saw him at about the same time as he saw them. Hammer-Two and Hammer-Three were busy finishing off the last J-8II at high altitude. So he pulled the stick back and brought the aircraft into a very tight turn until he could see the yellow nozzle exhausts of his opponents in front of him. Two of those now dropped their heavy ordinance and lit afterburners to pull up and engage…

“So you two will go first!”

He pulled the control-stick. The first J-8II had just finished punching off its ordinance and had no energy advantage relative to King-Hammer’s Sukhoi. A quick burst of cannon fire chopped that Chinese fighter’s port wing from the fuselage in short order.