“Any moment now,” he muttered again, trying not to tense up and wanting to keep his hands and arms as relaxed as possible. When his radar picked up the incoming missiles, he was going to have to fly as he had never flown before if he was to be one of the aircraft that survived—if any survived—the impending carnage. The only slight consolation, he told himself as he waited for the warning from his alarm systems, was that as soon as a radar locked onto him, his HARM would fly straight back down the beam, provided he was close enough. That should mean, unless the Russians had some countermeasures he did not know about, that the following wave stood a very much better chance of getting through. And the wave after that a better chance still, until the Russian defenses were first breached and then overwhelmed.

Another check of his instruments. Everything was doing what it was meant to do, but there was still nothing. And they were closing fast on Kaliningrad.

Then the radio in his helmet burst into life.

“Apollo, this is Giant Killer, are you receiving me?”

“Affirmative, Giant Killer,” Bertinetti replied—thinking, what does ground control want?

“Apollo, we’re receiving reports that lead SEAD sortie is on target and has received no incoming, repeat no contact. They’ve had a clear run onto target and have taken out multiple SAM systems.”

“Roger, Giant Killer. Guess they’re keeping it for us then.” Bertinetti tried to make light of this surprising news.

“Apollo, on the contrary, we’re getting multiple reports that enemy C2 is totally scrambled. All their systems appear to be down.”

Bertinetti was dumbfounded. That could only mean one thing: something massive must have been initiated to coincide with the air attack. How else would the feared Russian integrated air-defense system crash?

But this was no time to be complacent. It was time to prepare for their own run in to the target and to pray that the gods of war were looking after them as well.

An hour later, Bertinetti knew that something extraordinary had taken place. As they had prepared for the mission, the 510 Fighter Squadron pilots had all assumed their attack on the Pionersky radar station would require them to penetrate the most sophisticated, integrated air-defense system on the planet. It would probably be a suicide mission. But something unaccountable had plunged the Russian command and control systems into chaos, for there had been no incoming SAMs.