great Caribbean vacation paid for by Uncle Sam, and all he had to do was fly one of the hottest jet fighters in the world.

"Dragon Five-Four flight, this is Georgetown radar. Squawk mode three code zero-zero-one-four, mode JC. on, and have your wingmen squawk standby," the juicy sounding controller from the Grand Cayman said.

"Anything you say, babe." Coursey was feeling altogether the hot pilot. He knew his wingmen would check that their mode three identification beacons were in standby-they were placed in standby so collision alerts between fighters in the formation would not continually show on radar-so he doubled-checked his IFF settings and got himself comfortable.

"Dragon Five-Four flight, you are cleared to orbit as required within one-zero-zero nautical miles of BRAC intersection as re- quested, in the block from five thousand to thirty-five thousand feet. Contact me on this frequency if you require assistance.

Clear to switch to tactical frequencies. Georgetown radar clear. "

Coursey was about to ask her for an after-hours phone number but it was time to get things organized. "Roger, Georgetown.

You have a nice day, now. Dragon flight, push blue."

"Two. "

"Three.

"Blue" was the assigned common scrambled UHF frequency to be used by Coursey's flight, the AWACS known as Barrier Control, and King 27, their KC-10 tanker out of Homestead AFB, Florida.

"Dragon flight, check," Coursey called out a few seconds after switching frequencies.

"Two.

"Three," his wingmen responded.

"Station check, report with fuel status." Coursey took a fast look at Dragon Five off his right wingtip. The big centerline fuel tank on the F-16s made the sleek bird awkward looking, not to mention the huge decrease in performance and range-those tanks would be the first to go if they engaged any hostiles out here.

Each F- 16 carried two AIM- 132B European-built infrared-guided ASRAAM (Advanced Short-Range Air-to-Air Missiles for close- range "dogfighting" engagements) and two AIM-120C AM- RAAM (Advanced Medium-Range Air-to-Air Missiles for longer-range attacks), along with five hundred rounds of twenty- millimeter ammunition. They were loaded and ready, but out 327.

here, flying quietly and peacefully over the sparkling blue Ca- ribbean, trouble seemed a zillion miles away.

"Let's hear it, Dragon flight."

"Two's in the green, four and five hundred all safe, eight thousand. " He had called out his overall status, his armament number and status, and his fuel remaining.

"Three's in the green, four and five hundred safe, seven- point-seven. "

"Looks like everyone's thirsty here," Coursey said. The large external fuel tanks on the three fighters' bellies were all empty- they were usually empty shortly after a heavy gross-weight take- off-and the internal fuel loads were also depleted by half. They all had about an hour's worth of fuel left, plus the required forty- five minutes reserve. "Lead's got eight-point-one, four and five hundred. Break. King Two-Seven, this is Dragon Five-Four Flight of three on tac blue, over."

"Dragon flight, this is King Two-Seven, read you loud and clear," the KC-10 air-refueling tanker radioed back. "We're receiving your position beacons, codes verified. We're seventy miles north of your position on a heading of two-zero-zero, al- titude twenty thousand feet. Over."

"Copy, Two-Seven," Coursey replied. "You've got three receivers at nineteen thousand feet, onload as briefed, point par- allel auto rendezvous. Weapons all report safe and ready for refueling. We'll do a few orbits, out here to stay in our assigned block, then turn northbound at thirty miles."

"Copy, Dragon. "

Coursey began some gentle standard-rate turns in order to bum some time without going outside his assigned airspace. A few moments later he heard, "King Two-Seven at fifty miles."

"Copy. Dragon flight, take route spacing, stand by for auto rendezvous." The two members of Coursey's formation stayed in formation but increased the distance between aircraft to almost a mile. Dragon Four started a turn to the north, and Coursey watched to make sure his wingmen were staying with him.

"Thirty miles . . . twenty miles, stand by for turn . . . "

At.seventeen miles, on the dot, Coursey's F-16 Falcon started a left tum and gentle climb. A few moments later one of Cour- sey's wingmen called, "Tally ho, ten-thirty position." Coursey stared harder toward the crystal-blue horizon and finally spotted the huge green converted DC-10 airliner in the distance.

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"Lead's got a tally."

It appeared as if the F-16 formation was on a collision course with the huge tanker, but in auto-mode it always looked like that. Coursey pulled his throttle back to ninety percent and pegged his airspeed at four hundred twenty knots. By the time the computer-controlled turn was done, the tanker was looming over the lead F-16 fighter's nose like a storm cloud, and the autopilot beeped to remind the pilot that the rendezvous was completed.

"Dragon Five-Four flight, this is King Two-Seven boom op- erator, radio check."

"Dragon lead's loud and clear."

"Two. I I "Three.

"Loud and clear up here. Dragon Five-Four cleared to the contact position; Two-Seven is ready."

"Dragon Five-Four moving up on auto."

The tanker's nozzle was aligned less than a thousand feet ahead. Coursey punched off the autopilot and moved the throttle to eighty percent, which, after his years of experience he knew would give him the three-hundred-knot refueling speed he wanted; tiny speedbrake deflections would take care of any ex- cess speed. He opened the air-refueling receptacle on the F-16's spine and checked the status indications on his heads-up display.

They showed ready for refueling.

"Dragon Five-Four stabilized pre-contact and ready," Cour- sey reported.

Coursey carefully guided his fighter under the KC- I O's broad belly, following the rows of director lights arranged along the tanker's bottom, until he received a steady yellow light-which placed the front glare-shield right on the tanker's UHF antenna blade.

"Stabilize Behind Coursey's canopy the twenty-foot boom extended its tubular nozzle, and like some alien mating ritual the boom operator extended the nozzle into the F-16's receptacle. Coursey's HUD indicated CONTACT.

:'Contact Five-Four.

'Contact Two-Seven," the boom operator replied. At that, the copilot on the KC-10 activated the refueling boost pumps and began transferring fuel. When the boom operator's flow panel showed a positive transfer rate, he reported, "Taking fuel."

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"Give me five thousand and we'll cycle," Coursey said. Each fighter in the formation would take on a token load at first to confirm that their refueling systems were working; once all fight- ers could take fuel, they would spend more time on the boom and fill to full tanks. Five thousand pounds of fuel took only thirty seconds to transfer. Coursey disengaged from the tanker and swung out to the left to let Dragon Five-Five in on the boom.

The pilot aboard Five-Five, a young lieutenant who had just finished F-16 training and then reported directly into the Guard, had a bit more trouble completing the rendezvous. On his first attempt he moved no closer than ten feet from the extended nozzle.

"Forward ten, Dragon Five-Five," the boom operator prompted. Coursey could see the F-16 inch closer, but he always pulled off too much speed or ducked down away from the noz- zle.

"Forward twelve."

Impatience got the better of him. This time he shoved in too much power and overcorrected. The F-16 slid under the KC-10 so far that the vertical stabilizer looked as if it was going to scrape against the refueler's boom pod.

"Breakaway, breakaway, breakaway," the boom operator called out. Not exactly an emergency situation but the KC-10's response was automatic-the boom shot full up into its retracted position, the engines went to full power, the tanker began a steady climb. Dragon Five yanked off his power and slid out of sight. Coursey and Dragon Six stayed on the tanker's wingtip as it pulled ahead.

"Two-Seven, this is Dragon Leader, Dragon Five-Five is well clear," Coursey radioed to the tanker, trying to keep Five in sight. "Cancel breakaway. Clear Dragon Five-Six to the contact position, and clear Dragon Five-Five to the right wing. Five- Five, take a breather and try to relax.- "Dragon Five-Five, clear to Dragon Five-Six's right wing,"

the boom operator said. The F-16 that had balked its hookup reappeared, sliding under Dragon Five-Six and moving into po- sition on Six's right wingtip.

"Dragon Five-Five is on your right, Five-Six."

"Dragon Five-Six, clear to the contact position, Two-Seven is ready." Five-Six moved smoothly down into contact position, 330 .

and fifteen seconds later it was taking fuel. A minute later he was back off Five-Five's right wing, and Dragon Five-Five was moving back into contact position.

"All right, Myers," Coursey told the pilot of Dragon Five- Five, "you've already embarrassed yourself in front of these tankers toads-try not to do it again. Remember, these Falc ons don't like being muscled around. They respond to gentle inputs.

Just like the ladies. Remember your visual cues and for God's sake, relax. "

He watched as Dragon Five-Five again began his approach to contact position. Myers needed this hookup for much more than just to avoid embarrassment. If he didn't get his refueling on this pass he'd have to take the tanker, turn north and attempt another contact while heading for Georgetown. It would be highly embarrassing for one of Coursey's wingmen to come back alone because he couldn't accomplish a refueling, especially in near-ideal weather conditions. But whatever else Myers had on his mind, he apparently had finally managed to put it behind him as he made contact with the KC-10 on the first try.

"Fill 'er up, Two-Seven," Coursey said. "We'll top off in reverse order. I'll be on radio two." Coursey switched radios momentarily to his second non-scrambled UHF radio. "Barrier Control, this is Dragon Five-Four flight. How copy?"

"Dragon Five-Four flight, this is Barrier Control, loud and clear. Over. "

"We will complete refueling in one-zero minutes," Coursey said. "Looks like we'll have three birds in the green. We'll be in the center of the assigned area at completion. Over."

"Copy all, Dragon flight," the controller replied. "First re- sponse will be in approximately zero-eight minutes. Upon com- pletion of refueling, take flight level two-five-zero and heading two-zero-five for your first intercept."

"Copy all, Barrier. We'll report back when refueling is com- plete.

. Dragon Five-Five was topped off in three minutes, after eas- ing out of the boom's refueling envelope twice. Five-Six had an easier time of it, completing his refueling in two minutes. Cour- sey took a bit longer than two minutes, electing to use lower pump pressure from the tanker to avoid pressure disconnects, which would result in less than completely full tanks. The KC- 10 then executed a right turn and headed north for its orbit point 331.

near Georgetown, and Dragon flight headed southwest toward their first intercept.

"Five-Five, you got the high CAP,- Coursey said ' "Top of the block is three-five-oh, so take three-three for now." The high CAP (Combat Air Patrol) was an overlook position from where he could react quickly to hostile situations below him.

Coursey hoped as Dragon Five-Five started his climb to thirty- three thousand feet that the advantages of the high-combat air patrol would make up for Myers' inexperience.

"Barrier, Dragon flight on blue, " Coursey called on the scrambled command radio. "Two on heading two-zero-five and twenty-five thousand feet. One on the high CAP at three-three- oh.

"Roger, Dragon," the controller on board the Boeing 767 AWACS radar aircraft replied, "your bogey is at twelve moving to one o'clock, forty miles." Coursey checked his infrared spot- ting scope, which was slaved to the data-link from the AWACS- right on the money. The F-16's infrared seeker laid an aiming square on the target and began feeding targeting information to the missile's weapons computer.

"Dragon has IR lock, twelve o'clock."

"That's your target, Dragon," the controller confirmed.

Coursey started a left turn to take a greater angle into the target. The target wasn't maneuvering.

"Dragon, we've got modes and codes on this one," the con- troller said. "Verify I -D. and make sure he's a solo."

"Rog." Coursey allowed himself to relax a bit. "Modes and codes," meant the AWACS was picking up standard airliner- beacon codes, such as air-traffic control codes and altitude read- outs, but they wanted each aircraft checked out visually anyway.

Apparently whoever they were looking for could transmit standard codes. They were also expecting whoever they were looking for to be either traveling in a formation or trying to sneak through underneath another aircraft, a tactic that even in high-tech, super-electronic times could still only be detected vi- sually.

"Twenty miles, one o'clock," the controller said.

"Five-Six, take spacing, coming right," Coursey ordered.

Dragon Five-Six did a slow aileron roll to the right, which in- stantly increased his spacing from his leader to about a half- 332 .

mile. When he was stabilized in route formation, Coursey started a turn toward his bogey.

:'Twelve o'clock, ten miles."

'Tally Ho, Five-Four," Coursey called out. The aircraft was just off the right side of his F-16's nose, heading north. It was still not maneuvering, nor was it giving off any telltale radar emissions of its own.

"Five-Four, this is a message from Barrier command, don't let the target's crew see you out there, " the controller of the AWACS said. "Select a course well aft of the cockpit and any cabin windows. Over."

"Copy, Dragon flight, check."

"Two. I I "Three.

Coursey maneuvered around behind the aircraft and its left elevator, well out of sight of the pilot and anyone looking out the windows. He could understand Barrier's concern-airline pi- lots, not to mention passengers, got very nervous with armed fighters swarming nearby.

"Barrier, looks like we got a Boeing 707, cargo configura- tion," Coursey reported. As he closed in, he continued, "It has Varig colors on its tail. Stand by for serial number. Five-Six, take the right side and stay out of sight." Dragon Five-Six peeled off and began to converge on the 707's right side. Coursey pulled in close to the vertical stabilizer, well clear of the plane should it make a sudden turn. "I copy M as in Mike, five-seven-oh- seven-three alpha. No music, no weapons"-"music" meaning any hostile radar emissions or jamming.

"Belly's clear," the pilot on Dragon Five-Six reported.

"Dragon, this is Barrier. I. confirmed on your bogey. Re- sume patrol orbit and stand by."

' 'Roger, Barrier. " Coursey rolled left away from the airliner, then took a second to check his position.

"Barrier, what are we supposed to be looking for?" Coursey asked.

A slight pause, then: "Stand by, Five-Four.

They were asking the brass on board if it was okay to tell the guard puke what he was doing in the middle of nowhere, chasing down airliners, for God's sake. He had a feeling the answer was going to be don't ask stupid questions, guard puke.

333.

He got his answer sixty seconds later: "Five-Four, command says you'll know it when you see it."

"Say again, Barrier?"

Another pause; then a different voice came on the radio: -Dragon flight, your target is a single-seat fighter aircraft. It may be armed, and it may be escorted by one or more Soviet aircraft. It may be supported by a Soviet tanker. The aircraft may have U. S. Air Force markings on it. It must still be con- sidered hostile."

"An American aircraft? We're going after an American air- craft? "

"The bad guys got it, Major," the voice said. "We want it back. Yourjob is to identify it, force it to follow you to George- town, or if necessary destroy it. Those are your orders, Major Coursey. Over and out. "

This was becoming less and less like a Caribbean vacation, Coursey thought.

"Five-Six, I've got the lead. Join on the right."

"Three. I I "Five-Five, maintain your high CAP until the next refueling, then you'll swap With Five-Six. Set best endurance power. Seems this is going to be one long day."