“They’re coming in fast,” Co-Pilot Seathl said, turned all the way round in her seat, straining against the restraints and looking out the viewports to starboard. At the center of the instrumentation panel before them, the gyro dipped and spun as Fair Winds for Escort rolled, pitched, and yawed through the thin Fire Star air, evading enemy fire.

“Keep on them, Seathl,” Amonkar answered, hands wrapt tightly around the yoke, keeping a careful eye on their altitude and velocity. Then, under her breath, she cursed, “What’s keeping the rutting escort?!”

Through the reinforced material of her pressurized flight suit, Amonkar could feel the metal of her seat vibrating each time one of the Eagle Knights’ ammunition rounds pinged the outer hull of Fair Winds. So far none of the Mexic fire had done any serious damage to the Deliverer’s hull, either rebounding off thin armor plating or passing through the bomber’s body without striking anything vital, either crew or component. It was only a matter of time before the Mexica would inflict real damage on the bomber and her crew though, no matter how much Amonkar managed to coax the Fair Winds into swooping and diving in evasive maneuvers. The bomber squadron’s fighter escort would be needed to pry the Eagle Knights off their tail, but so far the escort had failed to reappear.

It was more than a week into Operation Great Strength, and the mission of the bomber squadrons, already difficult, was quickly approaching impossible. The Mexic ground forces had continued to push inwards from the north and south, for eight days straight, and had now all but pinched off the Middle Kingdom salient. At the moment, the only thing keeping the salient connected to the Middle Kingdom-held territory in the east was the continual bombardment of the Mexic forces in the “pincers” by the Air Corps bomber squadrons, of which Amonkar’s squad was just one of many. But the bombers’ ability even to keep airborne was being severely tested by the Mexic air forces, who had committed the vast majority of their aircraft on Fire Star to this corridor a few kilometers square.

By the day’s end, it seemed likely, the advance column of Middle Kingdom forces would instead be an island, surrounded on all four sides by Mexica. But if there was any chance to keep the salient intact, even for a short while longer, the Fair Winds and the rest of the light bombers would do what was asked of them.

Of course, if they were all shot out of the sky, there would be no one left to answer the call to action, when it came. For the first few days of Great Strength, the most dangerous portion of a bombing run was the moment when the plane overflew the western extremity of the Middle Kingdom salient, into the Mexic-held territory and within the range of the ground-based anti-aircraft guns, and into the sights of the Eagle Knight fighters flying patrols north-to-south along the line of engagement. But with the Mexic forces pushing together from the north and south, far to the east where the salient met the Middle Kingdom main forces, the Eagle Knights had taken to patrolling the entire border of the finger-shaped salient, and at times even dared to overfly the Middle Kingdom-held territory of the salient, passing from one side to the other.

Now, Fair Winds and the other bombers in the squad were at considerable hazard almost as soon as they lifted off the runway, forced to run a gauntlet over contested ground, through the swarms of Mexic fighters who might be lying in wait for them, all to drop a precious few bombs without much hope of hitting the targets in the first place. The overall mission plans for Great Strength still called for western advancement towards Ruosi, even with the danger of their flank falling before the Mexica on either side. It was a failed policy, which everyone but those in command, it seemed, had long realized.

“They’re coming back around,” Seathl said, leaning forward and looking left past Amonkar to port. “Still no sign of the escort.”

“And to think,” Amonkar muttered, “just last week I was worried about getting bored.”

The morning had started like all the other days since Great Strength had begun. An early rise, mission briefing, suiting-up and final ground checks, then Fair Winds and the rest of their bomber squadron, accompanied by an escort wing of Dragonfly rotary fighters, had set out over the salient to the targets in the west.

Almost as soon as they’d passed from the Middle Kingdom-held territory to the east to the salient on the west, they’d been attacked by a half-dozen Eagle Knight fighters, swooping down from the north. Their escort had peeled off to engage the Mexic fighters, leaving the bomber squadron to continue towards the west over the salient. With a few kilometers of Middle Kingdom ground forces below them, the bombers would be fairly safe until they reached the Mexic defenses to the west, by which time some of the escort, at least, would have rejoined them. And just to be on the safe side, the bombers were ordered to slow their velocity, to give the escort enough time to catch up, after driving off the Mexica.

Mission parameters, of course, called for at least a pair of Dragonflies to be left with the bomber squadron, flying over friendly territory or not, but in the last week the rotary-winged fighters had been taking heavy fire, and while a thankfully small number had been casualties, there were a number of fighters grounded, whether due to damage to the aircraft or injuries to their crews, and so the escort wing was left short-handed.

And so, as a consequence, Fair Winds was left undefended, at least for a short while. But a short while, unfortunately, was all it took.

When the bomber squadron still had some distance to go before reaching their target, still flying over friendly territory, they encountered a second Eagle Knight wing, diving towards them from the south. And without the Dragonfly escort to keep the Mexica off their back, Amonkar and the others had no choice but to rely on themselves.

“One of them’s coming in low,” Seathl said, sitting back, a grin on her face.

“It’s about time,” Amonkar answered. Then, over the ship’s hardline, she called out, “Gunners, at your discretion.”

With a mix of enthusiasm and relief, Tail Gunner Lambert and Nose Gunner Siagyo both called out their ascent. For the long minutes of the engagement so far, the Mexica had remained above the Fair Winds’ elevation, making the bottom-mounted guns all but useless. Even when Amonkar rolled the craft from port to starboard and back, there was a limit to how far the gun turrets could be angled.

In response, Amonkar had been pushing the bomber to higher and higher elevations, trying to increase the bomber’s altitude and get up above the Eagle Knights. Finally, it seemed, one of them might be slipping into the gunners’ sights. But would it come too late?

“I got him!” Nose Gunner Siagyo shouted over the hardline. That was one Eagle Knight down, another half-dozen or more to go.

“Captain!” came the voice of Tail Gunner Lambert buzzing in Amonkar’s helmet speakers. “We’ve got craft approaching fast from the east.”

Amonkar and Seathl exchanged a glance. “Is it our escort?” the co-pilot asked, knowing the answer already.

“No,” came Lambert’s answer.

Amonkar’s shoulders slumped. She thought they might be able to hold off the rest of the Eagle Knights until the escort arrived, but if more Mexica approached from the rear, she wasn’t sure she could keep Fair Winds afloat.

“Even better,” Lambert quickly added, laughing.

A flash of yellow and black streaked in the corner of Amonkar’s eye, and as she yawed the bomber to starboard, she caught the quickest glimpse of a rotary winged fighter painted in stark tones of bright yellow and midnight black. It was a Hornet, a Middle Kingdom rotary fighter, bigger and better armed and armored than the smaller Dragonflies.

“Ahoy the bombers,” came a voice speaking Official Speech, crackling over the ship-to-ship radio. “We heard your escort went dancing with someone else, and didn’t want to leave you without partners.” As Amonkar watched, another yellow-and-black fighter buzzed past, then another, swooping around the bomber squadron like their tiny insect namesakes.

“Well appreciated, Hornets,” Amonkar answered.

“Coming up on target now,” Navigator Geng said over the hardline. She didn’t have to explain what that meant about flying into Mexic anti-aircraft and fighter patrols.

Amonkar’s mouth drew into a line. They’d survived this far, only to dive into the biggest hazard zone in the mission.

She shrugged. With any luck, they’d survive to do it all over again.

“Prepare for bombing run,” she said over the hardline. “Let’s go earn our keep.”

---

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: Hexagram 41
Diminution
Below Lake Above Mountain
Below the Mountain, there is the Lake. In the same way, the noble man checks his anger and smothers his desire.

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Chapter 42 of Three Unbroken by Chris Roberson. Copyright © 2008 Monkeybrain, Inc. For more action from the Celestial Empire don't miss The Dragon's Nine Sons.

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