Using the Forward Looking Infrared mode of his targeting pod, he could easily make out the vehicles. The first two were HUMVEEs, followed by three MRAPS - the Army’s armored fighting vehicle designed to withstand IED attacks and ambushes, and one HUMVEE at the rear. The black and white pod image wasn’t very clear at that altitude, but it appeared that the rear vehicle was the damaged one.

After confirming the JTAC’s position, he began scanning the nearby area for threats. He put the jet into a 45-degree bank, right hand turn and set the autopilot to hold that turn so he could focus on the ground. The right hand “wheel” kept the F-16 in an orbit over the target area, keeping the targeting pod that was mounted on the right chin mount from being masked by the fuselage.

Pounder checked in just as he settled into his search. “Do you hear me on secure?” he asked on aux.

“Negative, I’m talking to the JTAC now,” Spectre replied.

“I can’t hear shit, what’s going on?” Pounder demanded.

When he was a Lieutenant, Spectre never appreciated Pounder’s attitude, but now it was just flat out annoying. A situation was developing on the ground and for whatever reason Pounder couldn’t get his hands in it, so he was being short.

“There’s a disabled vehicle and wounded, we’re tasked with Armed Overwatch. I’ll pass you the coordinates on the datalink, but so far nothing is happening,” he said, trying not to show his irritation.

“Sounds like Iraqi standard - hurry up and do nothing. Well I’m almost at Tanker Bingo, so we’ll have to yo-yo, think you can handle it by yourself?” Pounder asked. He was nearing the preplanned fuel state to discontinue whatever tactical operations they were conducting so they could make the tanker or go home with enough fuel to land safely. With yo-yo operations, Spectre would stay on station alone until Pounder could get fuel on a tanker and make it back. Once back, they would complete a hand off and Spectre would head to the tanker alone, ensuring a fighter would always be overhead.

“I’ve still got 20 minutes until Bingo, I can handle it,” Spectre replied.

“Fine, but don’t do anything without me. I’ll be back in 20 minutes.”

Spectre acknowledged and continued with his search. He knew the rules. Ever since a young wingman nearly hit friendlies on a drop while his flight lead was at a tanker, the reigning Operations Group Commander had decreed that no aircraft would drop ordnance as a singleton, no matter what the situation. Flight leads were not supposed to leave their wingmen alone on station, but given the situation, Spectre wasn’t about to argue and leave these guys alone on the side of a highway in the wee hours of the morning.

“Thunder 42, this is Whiskey 80, we are taking fire!” the JTAC screamed. His voice was cracking. Spectre could hear gunfire in the background. His eyes snapped back to his targeting pod. He could see the friendly troops hiding behind the vehicles on the road. Zooming out the pod image, he picked up two trucks on the other side of the road with several combatants in the back. He couldn’t tell what kind of weapons they were holding, but they appeared to be shooting.