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I thought I'd try something different for an AAR.

In this playthrough of Socotra Scramble set in 1994 I've used public figures as characters. I initially wanted to use sportspeople, but they'd probably sue. So I've used US, British and Australian politicians, which involved a bit of creative imagination re ages, but gives a ready-made backstory.

Apart from the internationally known names I have no knowledge of who these people are or a position for or against them. Sending your favourite MP/Senator into danger and what happens to them is purely down to the roster.

Here's Chapter One. I can do some more if anyone's into it.

It Begins

Admiral Trump saw the first F14’s engines come alive with a hellish glow in the pre-dawn dark as the afterburners lit. In seconds it accelerated down the deck like a dragster, somehow formed in the shape of a vampire. Briefly he could see the two big Phoenix missiles under its wings, before it found flight and entered darkness, its twin fires reducing to nothing in the vast black air above the Arabian Sea.

No inert training rounds this time, just a dick-load of man’s ingenious inhumanity to his brother, he thought. Nimitz was his ship and this five-ship fleet was his battlegroup, but it was the Jakes - Jake Ellzey and his backseater Jake Auchincloss – from the Fighting Renegades squadron who in F14 number 1 who would ride out to meet the enemy first.

Trump knew all the boys and girls who flew for him. His daddy had been an NY businessman and had made sure he knew how important it was not just to know a name for a face but also a good bio. That last was what got you most ahead said the old man. Damned if he hadn’t been right about that too, old bastard. Teen Trump had installed a Rolla-deck of names and faces and histories in his head and had kept that going all his life.

Ellezy was a good-old Texas boy, the Renegades commander, career Navy. Might end up standing where Trump stood one day, if he survived the next few days and if there was still a ship left for him to stand on, or even a Navy, or even an America.

He should have been someone Trump liked and who loved Trump, but they didn’t see eye-to-eye on many things and Ellezy let the senior officer know that to the fullest extent possible. Trump hated the son of a bitch and would block his promotion if any of them survived this. Auchincloss was a kid from Massachusetts, that Harvard/MIT set that he had never liked and who had always despised him. Auch looked like he was 12-years-old, but rated way high on all the flying and war stuff and Ellezy had grabbed him to run the radar in the rear. Your funerals, thought Trump.

The ship was about 350 nautical miles, or just over 400 land miles, southeast of the island of Socotra. The big war had started in Europe and his orders were to take the group past the hostile island and past the south coast of hostile Yemen and then thread up the Red Sea between Yemen and hostile Eritrea and Ethiopia, laying waste to all bad things they found as he saw fit.

He had the F14s and the new F18s and some stuff on Thumrait, 500 nautical miles to the north. The French were in Djibouti, up in Cairo there was some air assets he would get later for a bit.

He turned to the ship’s Captain, Commander Pence.
“What do you think Mike?” he asked.
“I think we have our work cut out. The French put a recon up out from Djibouti and along the Yemen coast about half an hour ago. Got shot at by Sa 3 and Sa 2 and eventually chased off by a couple of Mig 21s. But before that it got a look at what’s on that coast and it’s not good Don,” said Pence.
“Styx?” said Trump.
“Shit ton,” said Pence.
Five hundred kilos of ship-eating sea-skimmer at just below the speed of sound. Effective out to 45 miles, thought Trump. Happy Monday.
“There’s also a Goddam armada of small boats with God-knows what in the ports along the way and at the entry to the Red Sea. There’s a 100% certainty that strait is mined and there they have Mig 29s up too,” said Pence.
“We took the King’s shilling Mike,” said Trump. “What about Socotra?”

Pence turned to the intel officer who had appeared with a piece of paper in hand.
Fat, barely meeting the navy’s standards of dress and grooming and often outside it’s guidelines on behaviour, Steve Bannon owed his survival and thriving to Trump, who regarded him as his best friend in the world, but also more importantly as the smartest man he knew.

“E3 out of Thumrait and the P3 we have west of the island show electromagnetic signatures of long-range search radar, some Sam 2 and Sam 3, some missile boats in the harbour. Mig 23 and 29 in the air, looks like a single Sukhoi jammer up for now,” said Bannon, without being asked.
“No Styx?” said Trump.
“Not yet,” said Bannon.

Trump ruminated.

Over at a huge white board on one wall of the bridge the air ops officer was moving magnetic strips with pilot names from a section marked ‘ready’ to another marked ‘airborne’. Good old whiteboard, even in the year of our Lord 1994 it kept on keeping on, thought Trump. He admired the shapely rear of Kellyanne Conway as she reached her little frame up the board. He liked her and she liked him, he thought. How much was what he’d have to find out one day.

The board showed Ellzey and Auchincloss’ jet was heading out west of Socotra, near to where the P3 was performing lazy 8s sucking up data 160 nm out from the island. Their wingmen were Russ Fulcher and Sara Jacobs. Wing people, Trump thought that would have to become, with some lingering shadow of loss. Back in his day the only women on a plane served drinks. Fulcher was an Idaho farm boy, Boise state, engineering degree. Solid as a rock. He and Trump got along well, but the distance in class and from Trump’s New York background was not going to be breached anytime soon. Fulcher’s backseater Jacobs was a rich California girl with some bullshit liberal degree from some nowhere out west. He didn’t like her and she him. Not his type anyway.

Scott Franklin and Mike Gallagher were heading direct from the carrier towards Socotra, along with Brian Fitzpatrick and Jimmy Gomez. Franklin was career navy from Georgia, looked and acted the part to a T. Gallagher was a good guy too, a patriot but the Princeton degree still rankled with Trump. Fitzpatrick was a straight arrow. Too straight, thought Trump, one day that guy would have to pick a side and just be all in with it instead of talking about fairness and what was right. Gomez was a good guy, came up out of not much, spoke for the working man. Their plane was called ‘Justice Union’. Trump saw a lot of himself in Gomez and thought they should be good friends. But knew from his spies that Gomez hated him and it saddened him a little. The burden of command, he thought.

Nimitz’s E3 radar plane was in the air, adding to the picture. The EA6B jammer had just launched and would follow Franklin’s flight towards Socotra, blurring the view for the other side. Mike Levin and Randy Feenstra flying it, Angie Craig and Anna Luna in the back running the electronics. Luna was pretty cute, thought Trump. He hoped she made it.
He walked out onto the gantry surrounding the bridge.

Trump faced out into the brisk wind of the Arabian night as the great ship made its way. The night was clear, but the only lights in the sky were the moon and stars. All air traffic was grounded, only a few stray ships were brave enough to still be at sea because of ignorance or evil. Which are we? Wondered Trump.

He sensed Bannon approaching from behind. The big man’s presence announced with some expensive aftershave he regularly bathed in that Trump thought masked some equally expensive booze that he also bathed in.
“World War the Third,” said Bannon.
“Ours to command. What do we do Steve?” asked Trump.
“Socotra is a red herring, for now,” said Bannon.
“We can’t ignore it,” said Trump.
“I say we can. To the extent that we don’t have to waste 50 or 100 cruise missiles on it yet,”
“How many do we have?”
“A hundred on our fleet. Twenty more on the sub that’s out 100 nautical north of Socotra,” Bannon looked at his piece of paper.
“The USS Columbus,” he said.
“Who’s running that thing these days?” said Trump. It had been his old command.
“Joe Biden,” said Bannon.
Trump swore. “I hate that guy. He’s an idiot, he’ll probably sink us with those things if we let him shoot,”
“He’s an old fool, but he has competent staff,” said Bannon.
“Why don’t you wanna burn Socotra?” asked Trump.
“As far as we know there are no Styx on that rock. Those are the only things that could possibly hurt us. Their air assets won’t get within a 100 miles of us and even if they did we’ve got more than enough surface to air missiles to kill them all,” said Bannon.
“So?” said Trump.
“So we take out a few of their long range search radar so they can’t see what we’re doing, splash whatever they send out to meet us and sail on by. The objective here is to get to the top end of the Red Sea. Not to go hunting snarks all to hell and gone,” said Bannon.
Trump moved his jaw from side to side for a moment.
“Ok. Put in an anti-radar strike, let’s take their eyes out. Make sure there’s a ton of fighter escorts, I don’t want to lose a jet to these people,” said Trump.
“Yes sir,” said Bannon.
The planes were in the air within five minutes.
Right on 6am local time they were in position. The Americans’ war began as dawn broke.

That obviously went down like a lead Zepplin.

Here's part two anyway:

Chapter 2

Technically, a woman and a gay black man fired the first shot of the US war in Arabia.

Bannon had sent four F18C’s into action, each with four HARM anti-radar missiles. Along with two more F14s each with four TALD jammer drones to further muddy the picture.

Nancy Mace (Army brat, sharp. She should have been on their side, but wasn’t and Trump and Bannon hated her passionately) and Ritchie Torres (Openly gay ex-slum kid which Trump respected) in Renegades 10 fired a TALD into the matrix of radars that were now showing up around the island.

Josh Harder (Ivy league, privileged drip) and Marie Perez (weirdly cute Mexican girl) in Renegades 9 fired a second.

“You don’t want to volley ‘em all at once?” asked Trump.
“Incremental. See what we got, judicious use of minimum force. Move, consider, move,” said Bannon.
“Unamerican,” said Trump.
“That’s what will win it,” said Bannon.

To Trump’s amusement, a woman, Laura Friedman was also the first to fire an actual weapon. An AGM 88B HARM anti-radar missile from her Hornet, Blue Diamonds 8. Lofted 60 miles at the ‘Bar Lock’ long range radar on a hill on the eastern edge of the island. The bridge crew on watched their monitors without breathing as the missile coursed in at nearly three and a half times the speed of sound from the east, closer and closer towards the Soviet-supplied dish.

Out of the rising sun, thought Trump. Another classic move for the bio.

The symbol turned red. “Shit,” said someone.
Then it disappeared. A flashing ‘malfunction’ replaced it.
Bannon launched into an impressive description of the inter-family sexual proclivities of the missile manufacturer’s board and CEO.

“Fire again,” he said.
“Use another aircraft,” said Trump.

Mike Hahn in Blue Diamonds 6 shot at the same radar.

“Migs are coming out,” said Bannon.

A pair of Mig 29s followed by a pair of Mig 23s were heading at a rate of knots towards the drones.

“Renegade 3 is in range with a Phoenix,” said Kellyanne Conway.

Franklin and Gallagher, thought Trump.

“Shoot” he said.

The big Phoenix missile was designed to hit old Soviet bombers flying high and slow, it shouldn’t have much chance against the agile, light Mig 29s. But the two TALD carrying F14s were getting dangerously out in front of the main force in order to put the drones in range. It would give the Mig drivers something else to think about while they did their stuff.

“Get the TALDs off those F14s ASAP. They’ve only got Sparrows, those ranges are too short and I don’t want them getting in with those Migs,” said Bannon.
“We need to get them closer so we can put the drones over the airfield,” said Conway.

Trump watched as Renegades 9 and 10 launched another drone each. More than 50,000 feet above them the single Phoenix streaked towards the Migs.
It all comes down to maths and movement, he thought.

In Oman a pair of F15s had lifted off, heading toward Yemen and the radars there. Each of the big planes carried four GBU-10 Paveways. 2000lbs of freedom, thought Trump. Overkill for a pile of antennae, but it was what they had ready when this thing kicked off. No enemy air was showing that far east in Yemen and Bannon’s people didn’t think there was any Sam threat. Scorpions 1 and 2 Trump saw on the whiteboard. Edward Braunstein (Good brain, worked his way up, not an ally) and Clyde Vanel (Same) in 1 and Mark Gordon (Good guy, but too blue-blood for Trump) and Jonathan Rivera (Navy career climber, not for Trump) in 2 said the mini-computer in his head.

“Migs are supersonic,” said Conway.

What could they see through the jamming, wondered Trump. Were they after the drones or the TALD carrying F14s or going for the HARM?

“SA15 site is up next to the Bar Lock,” yelled one of the techs.

A relatively short range radar guided mobile missile unit had been assigned to protect the big search radar.

“Hit it,” said Trump.

Someone said something and on screen another HARM symbol appeared by Hahn’s aircraft and streaked towards the new target.

“Migs are theoretically within range of the TALD F14s,” said Conway.
“Give them another shot,” said Trump.
“Renegade 3 and Renegade 4 can’t fire,” said a tech.
“Renegade 3 fired before and they’re closer now and now they can’t fire?” said Trump, disbelief in his voice.
“It’s a physics thing,” said Conway.
“Renegade 9, the TALD plane is in range with a Sparrow,” she said.

Trump swore, they were too close.

“Do it,” he said. “And get the rest of those TALDs off now.”

A Sparrow left Josh Harder’s plane. Both F14s had one TALD left to go.
“Migs are turning. They’ve seen the Phoenix,” said Conway.

The big missile was only 8 miles from its target now and the Mig 29s had turned tail in a bid to outrun it.

“Missile, missile, missile,” said a tech calmly.

Bannon swore. The Migs had got at least one shot off before they ran.
The last of the TALDs left the F14s.

“Get them out,” said Bannon.
“We’ll lose the Sparrow lock if 9 aborts now,” said a tech.
“Don’t care. Out now in burner,” said Bannon.
“Where’s their missile going? Asked Trump.
“Josh Harder’s plane,” said Conway.

Trump watched as Harder and Perez’s plane turned a tight 180 degrees. Without radar to guide it, their F14’s Sparrow missile lost its way and fell to earth.

“Solid track on the red missile, 7.8 miles from the F14, 990 knots,” said a tech. The Soviet missile was guiding itself.

The F14 was already more than supersonic in the other direction and accelerating, while the Soviet missile had peaked and was slowing, Harder would make it.

The Phoenix disappeared, unable to follow the Mig 29s as far as they ran.

“HARM is four and a half miles. It’s going for the SA15,” said a crewman.

Trump shook his head. Both the HARM missiles were somehow now headed for the same target.

“Well at least we’re going to find out SA15s real capabilities against a HARM,” said Bannon.

Trump and Bannon had classified briefings saying the Soviet missile could find and manage to shoot down the high-speed HARM, and others saying it couldn’t.

“Reputations to be made and lost,” said Trump.

The HARM merged with the plot of the SA15 and disappeared. The symbol on the SA15’s blot blinked out seconds later.

“Assessing good hit. SA15 radar transmission has ceased,” said a tech.
Conway pumped her fist. Bannon looked at Trump and nodded.
“We have a winner.” he said.
“Game on,” said Trump.
The second HARM detonated on the already wrecked SA15 vehicles.
“That’ll learn ‘em,” said Conway.

Trump assessed the situation.

The two TALD F14s were headed back to the carrier.

8 TALD jamming drones were poodling their way towards the Socotra coast.

The two Mig 29s, and two Mig 23s were basically overhead the Bar Lock on the east coast.

Renegades 1 and 2 with 4 Phoenix each were idling their F14s some fifty miles east of the island.
Renegades 3 and 4 with seven Phoenix between them were holding 35 miles southeast.

Blue Diamonds 5,6,7 and 8 with a total of 13 HARM were stacked five miles behind them.

The A6 jammer and the E2 radar plane 70 and 120 miles back respectively.

Gordon’s F15 was still about 70 miles from the first radar target in Yemen.

It was just 6 minutes since the war had started.

“Shoot at the Migs, two missiles. Then two HARM at the Bar Lock. We’ll see how that goes. Then we’ll roll into the middle and get the rest of the search radars,” said Trump.

Bannon nodded and started giving orders.

Trump saw two Phoenix head toward the Migs and two HARM head toward the Bar Lock site. Almost at the same moment the Migs fired two missiles at Fitzpatrick’s F14 from a range of about 25 miles.

A Phoenix impacted on a Mig 29 as it tried to evade at around 900 knots. A cheer went up in the bridge. Trump knew the young pilot would not have survived at that speed.

Scott Franklin and Mike Gallagher had scored the first air-to-air kill of this war. Fitzpatrick’s plane was evading and its Phoenix lost lock.

The situation turned chaotic as the HARMs crossed the coast. The Migs desperately tried to intercept them but had little chance and the Bar Lock disappeared on screen in a dissolving cloud of static.

“Who got it?” said Trump.
“Hahn,” said Conway.

Fitzpatrick outran the missiles and had fired at a Mig 23.

Franklin fired but then had to turn and run as two missiles approached his plane.

“They’re too close, the Migs shouldn’t be getting in range,” said Bannon.
“The HARMs can hit the centre of the island from where the F18s are now,” said Conway.
“Do it,” said Trump.

A flurry of missiles followed from both sides.
Conway narrated the confusion.

“Franklin got the other Mig 29 with a Sparrow.”
“SA17 has taken out first three of the HARMs. More on the way”.
“SA 10 is shooting at Franklin.”

That was bad thought Trump. Those things were long range and modern.

“He’s lost sight of it,” said Conway.
Then suddenly. “Oh God no, its right on him,”

Trump sent out a prayer for Scott Franklin and Mike Gallagher.
The bridge was silent.
They could see the F14 twisting in what would be mind-bending, skull-crushing turns as it twisted away from the killer Soviet SAMs that had somehow slipped out of radar and visual coverage and performed a stealthy sprint towards Renegade 3. Franklin and Gallagher pumped out flares and decoys but nothing was working.

Trump watched the two red arrow symbols merge with the F14 on the screen… and disappear.

“They missed,” said Conway.
“50 % hit chance with both and they missed,” she said, Almost in tears.
“Pull him back now,” said Trump.
“Where’s Fitzpatrick?”
“Tangling with the 23’s out east,” said Bannon.
“Get him out. Have the F18s fire all their HARMs and pull back too,” said Trump. The SA10 had changed the game.
“Fitzpatrick got one of the 23s with a Sparrow. He’s going after the other one with his last Phoenix,” said Bannon.
Seconds later: “He missed, he’s out, he’s returning to base.”
“HARMs are getting picked off, they’re firing everything… But we got the Big Bird,” said Conway.
That was the main surveillance radar, associated with the SA10. With luck they may have put the whole unit out of work. They were doing ok.

“All the HARMs are down.”
“What’s your assessment Steve?” said Trump.


"We’ve tagged them. We think they’ve fired about 33 Sams, maybe a dozen SA10s. They’ve lost their prime surveillance radar, maybe their best SAM and three planes. They only put up two more Mig 29s in response to the HARM attack, so we don’t think they have that many. All our first strike is RTB without loss,” said Bannon.

“Also Gordon’s F15 hit the surveillance radar in east Yemen. It’s dust. There’s another in the centre of the country, they’ll try for that too,” he said.

“You want him to look at Riyan? said Trump, pointing to an isolated airport in the south of the country. He knew Bannon’s crew was unsure of what was there.

“Nah, probably nothing there. But on the other hand maybe 1000 miles of bad road. Might get the French to have a look from distance with that super-radar they have on the mirage,” said Bannon.

“Allez Francois,” said Trump. He looked at the clock. The war was not twenty minutes old.

“What’s next?” he said.

Didn't expect to see an aluma (Nancy Mace) of my alma mater to make an appearance in a CMO AAR.