Chapter 113 – Duel Above the Pacific
Spray water booster! This wasn't science fiction. Even in later generations, many civilian airliners adopted similar technology to increase thrust during hot summer months.
The Americans and Israelis had also experimented with this approach—modifying F-4 Phantom fighters to inject water into the compressor section, which cooled the engine and increased high-altitude thrust by up to 150%. In theory, these modified engines could push an aircraft to Mach 3.2.
The MiG-25, too, used this method to increase engine thrust—implemented by the Tumansky Design Bureau after rigorous testing.
To generate more power, you needed more intake air, but there were limits to how much the intake area could be increased—larger inlets created more drag. Instead, increasing the density of incoming air was a better solution. To do this, a water-ethanol mixture was sprayed into the compressor, cooling the air and making it denser. That meant more oxygen for combustion—and more thrust.
In addition to its massive fuel reserves, the MiG-25 carried a 250-liter water-ethanol tank. When needed, it sprayed the mixture like a mist into the intake, temporarily boosting the engine's power.
Normally, Andrei avoided using this system, saving it for emergencies. But now, facing off against the Tomcat, it was time to bare the MiG-25's fangs.
Mist sprayed into the intake ducts. The engine temperatures surged. Flames erupted from the tail, and the aircraft's thrust jumped instantly.
Having just completed a tight turn, Andrei's speed had fallen below Mach 1. Now, he rocketed past the sound barrier once more, accelerating rapidly. His radar was fully warmed up. In the forward hemisphere, high-power electromagnetic waves swept the sky. On the screen, multiple blips appeared.
A Tomcat fighter loomed 60 kilometers away, and two Phoenix missiles were already diving down from high altitude, closing in on his position. Distance: 5 kilometers.
Head-on intercept.
Andrei pulled back on the stick. The MiG-25, still accelerating, climbed higher, flying straight at the oncoming missiles. They appeared in his helmet visor—two gleaming specks growing larger with every second.
He waited, eyes locked on the missiles until they nearly filled his field of view—then yanked the stick and slammed the rudder.
At 10,000 meters, the MiG-25's control surfaces were highly responsive. The differential tail pried the nose around with surprising agility. The missiles, streaking toward him, missed by meters—too far for their proximity fuses to trigger.
Gone.
That mythical 17G missile maneuverability? Meaningless now. Andrei, a former test pilot, had drilled for this countless times in simulators. He'd dodged newer, deadlier AIM-120s in mock engagements. These early, bloated Phoenixes? They didn't stand a chance.
Both missiles overshot and self-destructed seconds later.
"Damn it!" Captain William cursed. What kind of pilot was this? To fly directly at two Phoenix missiles and dodge them both—it was insane. Or genius.
Should he turn back? Retreat to the protective missile envelope of the carrier group? He'd be safe in five minutes.
No.
He clenched his jaw. He was a U.S. Navy aviator. There would be no retreat. His pride demanded a duel.
William still had two Sparrows and two Sidewinders. The weight reduction after launching the Phoenixes made his Tomcat more nimble. He could do this.
"Prepare to launch Sparrow," William told the radar operator in the back seat.
The Tomcat's cockpit crew had clear roles. The front pilot handled flight and close-range combat; the rear weapons officer managed radar and long-range targeting.
The Sparrow, while not the most reliable missile, was ideal for a head-on intercept like this.
But as the radar officer adjusted settings, the blip on the radar screen raced forward—faster than expected. The MiG-25 had already climbed above 20,000 meters. Damn it—it was outpacing even the Tomcat's swept-wing dash.
The AIM-7F Sparrow now in use was a major upgrade from the Vietnam-era E-model, with a new dual-thrust motor and improved electronics. But still, it had limits. A five-kilometer altitude difference drastically shortened its effective range in a head-on engagement. The system warned that a minimum distance of 20 kilometers was needed for a successful intercept. Andrei was still beyond that threshold.
"Too high to launch," the radar officer reported.
William's frustration boiled over. He needed to climb higher.
He pulled back on the stick, commanding the Tomcat to climb, even as doubt crept into his thoughts. The F-14's variable-sweep wings made it versatile, but the MiG-25 was designed for this kind of high-speed, high-altitude engagement.
Still, he had no choice. Without altitude, he couldn't engage.
The Soviets, William thought, aren't playing fair. If you're bold enough, come down and fight.