The False Duel

“Two-Six, climb and maintain five-thousand. Wait for interception.” commanded Ground Control, a distant voice from Irkutsk-2 Airbase.

“Understood, Control.” responded Pavel Yostovich Dobrow, chafing against the newly-pressed second star of Senior Lieutenant on his shoulders. Word of his exercise in humiliating his former Senior Colonel had spread quickly, punting Pavel to the desolate and dull Eastern Air Theater from his home in the North. If not for the adulation of his regional Politburo, Pavel had little doubt he was facing a prison sentence as an alternative. But is this really any different? My wife waits for me in Moscow, yet her letters arrive slower each week…

The shining waters of Lake Baikal, hardened by the January ice, helped cool Pavel’s temper whenever he could take them in from the air, but the feeling of eyes and knives glaring at his backside had become a constant. :And yet, the sons of the Soviet Union are all brothers in arms, so said Lenin. Did his brothers seek to betray him so brazenly?” he dared murder to himself, unable to hear the words over the howling air outside, but feeling the thought pass across his lips gave him a small sense of being heard.

Now, Pavel found himself in the inferior position, as his MiG-21 interceptor lazily circled above the jagged island and inlet formations of the lake below, waiting to be pounced on by something. He hadn’t been told what had launched from Ulan Ude, or where it was coming from in its ambush. All Pavel had was his radar-warning receiver and his own eyeballs to scan the gray skies above and barren landscape below. Though his MiG appeared to be armed, the false missiles on his wings and iron ballast in his cannon stores were little more than training aides. Because the “people of the Soviet Union” simply wouldn’t understand letting me fly my machine to its full potential…der’mo, did we learn nothing from the Korean dispute?

For the next few minutes, the only sound Pavel heard aside from the rumbling whine of the MiG’s R11-F turbojet engine was the rhythmic ‘ping’ of the radar-waring receiver on the right side of his cockpit. Casually, the interceptor was being tracked by its home airbase, which was typical for any pilot wearing the Red Star. When it began to ping with a second, asynchronous rhythm, Pavel began to look harder at the eastern skies.

Suddenly, what was an asynchronous blip became an alarmed wail, as the MiG-21 alerted Pavel to a hostile aircraft trying to lock onto him for a missile shot. On instinct, Pavel yanked the interceptor’s nose into a hard skyward turn and pushed the throttle to full afterburner. Pavel kept his eyes glued to the horizon, and at last, caught a glimpse of something shiny against the dull brownscape beyond. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. A razor-sharp delta-wing, much bigger than his MiG’s, carried a longer fuselage than Pavel’s interceptor. Screaming past Pavel fast enough to shake his canopy with the sonic boom, the intruder also pulled into a climbing turn. On sheer power, the intruder was soon level with Pavel, even pulling beyond and over the MiG with terrifying speed.

Only when the intruder pulled away from Pavel did he see the letters “US Air Force” emblazoned on its sides, and the star-shield sigil on its wings. Instinctively, Pavel recognized the American symbols, but to see it here?! “Control, what the hell is going on?!”

“Two-Six, intercept the bandit! And be warned, enemy has already claimed one kill against you per our data recorders” Control barked back at Pavel, clearly annoyed that this enemy had so easily bested Pavel.

Now incensed to persevere, the MiG completed its looping turn and Pavel dumped the nose towards the ground, flipping belly-to-sky in the process. With such speed, the intruder wasn’t able to turn as tightly to take Pavel’s six o’clock, but it was already reversing its own turn to protect itself from him.

Stomping down on his rudder pedal, Pavel yanked the MiG’s control stick as hard as he could to close the loop. This time, Pavel made sure his own radar was switched from “Standby” to “Active”. By the time the MiG had pointed its nose to the sky again, the enemy was already diving back down onto him. Again, the RWR rang out with the enemy’s missile lock, but in coming almost head-to-head with him, Pavel was able to get his own firing solution. “Kill!”

“Not before you were shot down, Dobrow. Again!”

Growling under the strain of the many Gs his body was enduring, Pavel forced the MiG into another full loop, taking advantage of the enemy’s raw speed in its descent. That advantage paid double when the intruder was slow to pull its nose into a counter-turn to force Pavel’s aim to miss. It’s too fast to turn, even with such a large wing!

Seeing the error of its manuver, the enemy pulled its nose straight up, using its whole airframe to try and slow itself. Gauging his own closure rate, Pavel quicked switched his weapons panel from simulated missiles to the MiG’s internal cannon, and pulled the trigger. “Kill again!”

Control didn’t answer this time. Instead another voice came over his radio, colder and harder than the already-irritated ground monitor. “Lieutenant Dobrow, you have violated standard engagement rules! Stand down and return to Irkutsk!”

Pavel’s stomach froze momentarily, as Colonel-General Andyvich’s order was as clear as it was hard-hitting. The commander of the whole Air Defence Force, here?! “I…I don’t copy, Control. Please repeat.”

“Repeat, cease engagement and return to base!” Andyvich ordered again, nearly shouting at Pavel over the channel. “You will not jeopardize the Motherland’s property!”

In confusion, Pavel scanned the skies outside the cockpit for his opponent, and was quick to to find it. Yet instead of finding a stable, capable opponent, the enemy fighter now belched black smoke and appeared to be shuddering as it descended.

Of course…they can’t risk losing this captured asset. Pavel deduced, pulling back on his throttle and lowering his flaps to stay with his stricken adversary. The MiG shuddered and rattled as it struggled to stay aloft at so slow a speed, starkly contrasting the sound-busting slugfest of a few minutes ago.

“Control, give me their frequency! Let me help guide them down!” Pavel pleaded.

“Negative!” Andyvich countered, “Maintain your distance, and be alert for ejection.”

Much to Pavel’s shock, the enemy interceptor suddenly keeled over and began to spin on its belly. Snapping the MiG skyward to put altitude between himself and the stricken opponent, Pavel could only watch as his adversary smashed Itself flatly into the rocky shore of Lake Baikal.

“Control….no chute. Who was flying that plane?”

Only static answered him for a beat, leaving Pavel to circle the smoking ruin, alone in the skies once more.

“You’re not clear to know that, Lieutenant. Nor were you authorized to take such extreme action!” Andyvich responded, at first with sorrow, then with anger. “You have no idea what your boorishness has cost the State.”

Pavel looked down at the mangled wreck once more, hoping to see the unfathomable sight of a flightsuit-wearing specter walk away from the flames. Still, only carnage looked back up at him, the smoke’s shocking black trail reflecting beautifully of the water of Lake Baikal.

“So what was it I was fighting then, General? What was so crucial that i had to beat it, but couldn’t fly how I must to win?” Pavel asked, knowing full well that such a question had little chance of a true answer.

But what Andyvich responded with was nothing like Pavel expected. “Something you’ll be seeing more of soon, when you are deployed to assist our comrades in Vietnam against the imperialists.”

The command sucked the air from Pavel’s lungs, and he felt his stomach sink into his boots. Again, I am sent further from my home? Farther from Liliya? Is this the cost of serving the State and its people?! “When?”

“Your quarters are being packed now, Senior Lieutenant Dobrow. And you will return victorious, or not at all.”

*****

My next submission to IronAge Media’s weekly prompt, “The Duel”. While they conjures up the classical and romanticized images of swords clashing or pistols at dawn for some, these are the duels I’ve always dreamed of seeing (and possibly being in). Plus, coming back to this character & forming storyline was an exciting exercise in focus, as I’ve very much been scattered lately.

I hope you all enjoy.