Like a program running through a computer, Deacon went through the prescribed battle damage assessment as casually as if he were sitting in a simulator back at Mountain Home. As he came across a fault or system failure he made a mental note of it and moved on to the next item in the checklist.

Only when he was sure that he fully understood the condition of his aircraft did he attempt a maneuver beyond those that had been necessary to keep him airborne. As expected, the response of the F-16 was sluggish, almost hesitant. In some cases primary control systems had failed entirely or were not working properly. Noting a dangerously high engine temperature that he had no hope of controlling, the Air Force General came to the inescapable conclusion that he had but a few minutes before the sophisticated, multimillion dollar fighter would fall from the sky like a rock.

While he was easing his stricken aircraft around and couching it into a slow climb, Deacon made a quick estimate of how much longer he could stay aloft. When he had come to a reasonable answer, he then calculated how far it was to Hill Air Force Base. He could make it, he figured, but just barely and if he made no demands of his crippled F-16 beyond level flight.

But all thoughts of doing so faded as he approached Boise again. In his absence the men and women who had followed him had gone to work. Even in the distance, he could see pillars of thick black smoke rising up from the vicinity of Gowen Field. His lads were doing their job, he told himself. They were doing what he had ordered them to.

It was at that moment that Brigadier General Lee Deacon made his decision. Slowly, he pulled the joystick back in order to gain more altitude even though he knew that the additional strain of doing so would quicken the engine failure that was now but a matter of time. Once he had reached a practical altitude, Deacon leveled out and started to make a slow orbit around the Boise area. “Blue Mace leader—this is Mace One,” he called when he was set. “I need a quick update on what’s going on.”

The response he received was not one he had expected. “Mace One—this is Blue Mace One. Blue Mace Three is down—I repeat—down. He took a Stinger and went down over the city. He had no control. I repeat, he had no control.”