Sky Warrior
by
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The A-37 pilot had cheered when he saw his shells rip into the Citation. Yet now he cursed as the plane somehow continued to fly. One more pass, one more good shot, he told himself, and he would just have enough fuel to return to his rendezvous point. It was now or never and he would hold the trigger down until all the ammo was gone. He lined the sights. Just a little bit closer . . . maybe I'm too close, he thought, but this last shot had to count. He was practically on top of the Citation when his sweaty finger pulled the mini-gun's trigger. The gun, which was capable of firing over 4,000 rounds per minute, only took six seconds to send out hundreds of steaming hot chunks of lead which peppered into the crippled Citation below. Cajun could hear the bullets tearing through the thin skin of his aircraft. It all happened in microseconds but his mind slowed it down to where he could almost count the rounds. He saw them as they struck Two Dogs and felt the pain in the top of his own shoulder. He fought for consciousness and control of the vibrating aircraft when out of the corner of his eye he saw the A-37 passing mere feet above the dying Citation's cockpit. With his last ounce of strength he pulled full back on the yoke causing the Citation’s nose to raise into the bottom of the A-37. The two aircraft merged into a gigantic fireball. The radar operators aboard the P-3 didn't notice the Citation's disappearance. They were too busy watching the second A-37 as it closed the gap between them. The pilots aboard the P-3 had decided their only defense was to try to outrun the A-37, which by modern standards, was old and slow. They had little hope of outrunning the Mach 2 missiles attached. The P-3's huge four engines at full throttle left streams of telltale black smoke trailing behind. The A-37's missiles locked on the enormous heat signature at twice the normal distance. The pilot fired, first one missile and then the other a few seconds later. The FLIR operator on the P-3 saw them launched and notified the pilot who started to turn the huge aircraft. The missiles, traveling at close to 1,200 miles per hour, hit perfectly in the exhaust stacks of the #3 and #4 engines causing the right wing to fold up and then break off the aircraft. The P-3 crewmembers, in complete consciousness, prayed in hopeless horror as the P-3 tumbled from the sky until it hit the ocean below.
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About the Book
In an unusually violent air chase, United States Customs Pilot, Truck Adams, unexpectedly captures the only son of Carlos Santiago, the infamous head of Colombia’s largest drug cartel. Carlos begins a murderous rein of terrorism and revenge on a scale America had never seen, including the brutal assassination of the Commissioner of Customs. When our government fails to act, Truck takes matters into his own hands. He effects Santiago’s son’s escape in a stolen Customs Blackhawk helicopter, crosses half the country evading a massive manhunt, and delivers an unsolicited bundle to the White House lawn. Truck continues his odyssey, via a Federal Express 727 jet, into Santiago’s ranch in Colombia. The embarrassed President of the United States is forced to respond. In a dawn raid on the cartel’s secret headquarters, U.S. Special Forces find more than they bargained for, and Truck is right in the middle of the biggest military action since Desert Storm. From exciting air chases, to a major military operation, to a look inside the drug cartel’s secret operations, the non-stop action takes you on a journey of what the air war on drugs is really like.
About the Author
Rocky Anderson is a U.S. Customs Pilot. He has over 10,000 hours of flight time and holds Airline Transport Pilot and Instructor Ratings in both airplanes and helicopters. Rocky has flown the Citations and Blackhawks, mentioned in his book, on missions covering the U.S., Caribbean, and Central and South America. He has assisted in over one hundred felony arrests, the seizure of more than 100,000 pounds of marijuana and cocaine, and millions of dollars of drug money.