“Warning, towed array not in coordinated flight,” the computer reported.

“That’s what happened,” Patrick said. “When we made the turn, it must’ve knocked the array out of whack and faulted the system. It’s been back there spinning away like a great big pinwheel. I’m cutting it loose.” But that didn’t work. “The array won’t jettison. It’s totally faulted. I’m going to try an ECM system reset. LADAR coming on. It’ll be the only threat warning we have now.”

“Warning, MiG-29 at seven o'clock, thirty miles...” But moments later, they heard, “Warning, missile launch detected on radar, nine o'clock, twenty-six miles. Time to intercept, fifty seconds”

“Break left!” Patrick shouted. Franken shoved the throttles to full military power and yanked the control stick full left, rolling the AL-52 up on its left wing in a tight ninety- degree bank turn—they had to risk flying into their own cable to try to defeat the incoming radar-guided missile. At full bank, he started to apply back pressure to tighten the turn even more, presenting the smallest possible radar cross-section on the MiG-29’s radar. He let up on the back pressure when the computer issued a stall warning and started to pull the control stick forward. Meanwhile, Patrick was frantically trying every countermeasures switch he could. “ECM is completely dead—chaff, flares, jammers, everything.”

Out the cockpit window, the sight was horrifying. They could clearly see a trail of fire arcing across the sky—the Libyan radar-guided missile, heading right for them. There was no time to turn, no time to try anything, no time to even speak. . ..

The missile dove right at them—then passed just behind them, making a direct hit on the spinning array, missing them by less than three hundred feet. To the two men in the cockpit of the AL-52, it looked as if the missile had been aiming right at the middle of their foreheads.

“Lost. .. lost contact with the towed array,” Patrick said, gasping for breath—he thought he had bought the farm that time. “The missile hit it dead-on.”

“Well, that’s one way to cut the array loose,” Franken said.

Patrick switched his supercockpit display to the tactical view. “These suckers aren’t going to get a chance to get another shot off at us,” he said.

“Are you going to try to hit the missiles as they come off the rails?”

“I’m not going to let them get off the rails,” Patrick said. To the attack computer, he said, “Commit Dragon.”

“No TBM targets,” the computer responded.

Patrick touched the MiG-29 icon on the supercockpit display and spoke, “Attack target.”