Then I did get bored, a bit. After that Whale took off, maybe ten minutes went by with no flight activity in the area, other than the pair of Vultures over the jungle. They weren't strafing or firing missiles anymore, and we didn't see any more Zingers coming from the jungle either. With the lull in air traffic, I started to question not shooting at the Dodo or the empty Whale. Either would have accomplished our main objective of making the Ruhar shut down flight operations. Still, I wanted to hit the hamsters, hit them hard, make them pay for all the people who died at the Fort Arrow DFAC.

While we waited, I had people police the area, after we triggered off the Zingers we needed to run back into the conduit immediately, and not waste time picking up things we'd dropped. Shit, I should have left the access hatch to the conduit open, not waste time spinning that big heavy wheel. Too late now, lesson learned.

"Whales!" Wayne shouted, and waved his arms. Pope had the binoculars to his eyes, and waved one hand excitedly. Wayne held up a fist and two fingers, then palm open face up with two fingers. Two Whales, escorted by two Vultures. We couldn't hear them yet, they must have been approaching at high altitude. Then we could hear them.

"This is it, people!" I shouted. "Do not fire until I give the order! We've got two Whales; people on this side target the first Whale, people on this side, you're with me on the second Whale. Stay under the roof for now." I was so keyed up that I forced myself to double check my Zinger's safety was on. As the screaming sound of Whale jets got louder, I shuffled close to the edge of the concrete pad. What did we know about Whales, I tried to recall? They were well protected for a dropship, with multiple defensive particle beam turrets. With fifteen of us ready to fire Zingers at only two targets, from close range, we had a good chance to get a hit. At low altitude and slow airspeed, I was hoping a stricken Whale wouldn't have time to recover before slamming into the mountainside, and crashing down the slope.

I stuck my head out from under the roof to see where the Whales were. They were close, they would pass slightly to the east of us rather than directly overhead. Neither of them had their active stealth engaged. "Get ready," I ordered loudly and stepped out from under the roof, "arm seekers!"

With the safety off, the targeting display lit up, I centered the crosshairs on the rear of the trailing Whale, on the rear portside jet. The jet was angled almost fully down, providing more lift than forward thrust, as the Whale was on final approach. The most vulnerable point of its flight profile. Low and slow.