SimHQ.com - Air Combat Zone - A LOMAC Mission Report: Quit Toying With Him, Sacha!

LOMAC has three demo tracks that ship with the game. I truly enjoyed one of these, and found it a great demonstrator for the game’s graphics capabilities. It fits in well with the tales I’m presenting for LOMAC Week 1 and 2, so I thought I’d adapt it for my final 586th mission report. One of the developers on Russia actually flew this mission.

Hello again, my friends!

When last we met, I had enjoyed a nice sojourn with the Americans who now are based at Sochi with us. But while I flew their Hog (and still, I cannot understand why such fine aircraft is referred to as “hog,”) my comrades of the 586th had other adventures. I received orders to meet the squadron at Sevastopol base, in the heart of Crimea. There, we share facilities with our brotherly Ukranian comrades, in the spirit of the departed Soviet Union. Our commander had news for us: we would be giving up our beloved Cranes, our Su-27P aircraft, for the MAPO-MiG-29A. The MiG is a front-line fighter, with many more varied capabilities than our air-to-air only Crane, and too, the -27s are in need of overhaul and refit, while we young falcons are too valuable to rotate out of the line. So we transition to the MiGs for a time.

These too are fine aircraft, and to fit their position are painted in tasteful gray and green livery. As a joke, for I am unreformed and politically reactionary, Vasily has the winged Red Star, hammer and sickle of our former Soviet air force painted on my Yellow 52! Vasily has strange sense of humor, no? His Blue 54 is unadorned but carries same color scheme.

I am roused early one morning by insistent hooting of GAZ jeep at what Americans call “zero-dark-thirty,” from sound sleep.

“Sacha! Sacha, wake up!”

I blink sleep from my eyes. And I had just gone off for a good kip, too.

“Do you not know, Vasily, that even under regulations one is entitled to her three hours? I have been studying the MiG flight manual all night, you know, and so have you.”

“Yes, little eagle, but today it is time to fly — the Commander sends for us and it is most urgent.”

But what is this? It pours cold rain today! And visibility is near nil too. Surely we do not fly in this pea-soup? We are sure that something is up. But what?

Our Commander is dark and serious this morning. Though it is very early, he pours tumblers of Vodka for us all, and tells us that today we must not fail. Our FSB intelligence service, working with American CIA and others, has learned of a momentous opportunity.

“Today we have an opportunity to deal a crippling blow to the enemy, Sacha, Vasily. I have chosen you for this task because you are my little falcons with the sharpest talons. We will sink them into the flesh of Muqtadeh today and take from him his most trusted of advisors.”

Vasily chokes in mid-drink. I sit wide-eyed as the Commander reveals his audacious plan. We will be released to hurried breakfast of black bread and coffee while the Armourer prepares the MiGs. After a meteo briefing, the GAZ jeep will take us to the flight line where the jets await, and we will launch into the cold morning skies.

Muqtadeh’s most trusted associate is Akhbar Jihad, one of their most cruel and sadistic leaders. Jihad was the moving force behind the chemical weapons factory that I had the privilege of raiding with the Americans. The FSB has learned that Muqtadeh’s IRLF terrorist cabal met this past evening in Istanbul, to discuss the latest reverses at our hands. Akhbar will fly back to Sukhumi this morning in a C-130 of the Turkish Air Force, escorted by their hated F-4 Phantom fighters. It is a chance not to be missed. At great personal risk, a Turk of the Ataturk faction, a secular party in control of much of the intelligence apparatus, has spirited away the flight plan! We have it and will scramble to meet Akhbar’s flight.

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