Their Darkest Hour Read Online Free
Author: Christopher Nuttall
existence. Dead ahead of the Typhoons, it was advancing towards them at Mach Four. For a moment, she thought it was a radar glitch, the kind of glitch that had caused panic during the height of the Cold War, or the years after 9/11. The contact remained alarmingly stable, refusing to vanish. She ran through the situation in her mind and realised that they’d be in visual range within two minutes. What the hell could travel at that speed? There were rumours of a hypersonic drone being test-flown in America, but what would it be doing over Britain?
“Acknowledged, Sector Control,” she said. “Be advised that we will attempt to make visual contact; I say again, we will attempt to make visual contact.”
“It could be a ghost,” Davidson said. He sounded excited. Alex had flown a real-life interception mission before, back when the Russians had flown a pair of Blackjack bombers over the North Sea to remind NATO that they existed, but Davidson’s military experience was limited to dropping bombs over Afghanistan. “You think we could be the first to see one with our own eyes?”
Alex glanced at her radar screen, and then peered ahead into the lightening sky. If she saw the craft...it was possible that someone higher-up would order them to avoid contact or to forget what they’d seen, if it was someone’s secret test project. They should come into visual range in seconds...
Her threat receiver lit up like a Christmas tree. “What the hell...?”
A streak of light lanced out of nowhere and struck Davidson’s Typhoon before he had a chance to evade. The weapon, whatever it was, hit its target so hard that Davidson’s plane was blown into a fireball before he had a chance to realise that he was under attack. Alex yanked her plane into an evasive course just as a second streak of light – a very fast missile, according to her on-board displays – slashed through where she’d been. They were under attack! She almost froze in shock – only her training kept her moving. The radar was reporting dozens of new contacts now, appearing from nowhere over the North Sea and moving towards the British mainland. One finger uncovered her firing buttons as she tried desperately to call for reinforcements. The QRA aircraft should have been in the air the moment the radar controllers on the ground realised that something had gone badly wrong.
“Sector Control, this is Charlie One...”
Her radio screeched, loudly enough to force her to turn it down in a hurry. Someone was jamming her, preventing her from calling for help. The unknowns, whoever or whatever they were, were angling towards her, slowing as they came. Whatever they were flying seemed to outmatch her Typhoon effortlessly – who the hell were they? Alex gritted her teeth and activated her targeting systems. An enemy craft came into her sights and she launched a pair of missiles right towards it. The craft started to turn, but it was far too late. One of the missiles struck home and the enemy craft exploded in a shockingly powerful blast.
Another missile was screaming toward her. Acting on instinct, she corkscrewed her plane through the air, realising that she was utterly outmatched. But running could be as dangerous as trying to fight. A black shape appeared out of nowhere in front of her and she plunged the plane down, catching sight of an angular aircraft that reminded her of the F-117 Nighthawk, only several times as large. She took a shot at it anyway – it couldn't possibly be friendly – but she couldn't tell if she’d inflicted any damage. Whatever was screwing with her radio was screwing with her radar as well.
A brilliant flash of light caught her attention, from the west. Something had exploded on the ground, but what? The entire country couldn't be under attack, could it? The RAF hadn't had any reason to think that someone intended to attack
“Acknowledged, Sector Control,” she said. “Be advised that we will attempt to make visual contact; I say again, we will attempt to make visual contact.”
“It could be a ghost,” Davidson said. He sounded excited. Alex had flown a real-life interception mission before, back when the Russians had flown a pair of Blackjack bombers over the North Sea to remind NATO that they existed, but Davidson’s military experience was limited to dropping bombs over Afghanistan. “You think we could be the first to see one with our own eyes?”
Alex glanced at her radar screen, and then peered ahead into the lightening sky. If she saw the craft...it was possible that someone higher-up would order them to avoid contact or to forget what they’d seen, if it was someone’s secret test project. They should come into visual range in seconds...
Her threat receiver lit up like a Christmas tree. “What the hell...?”
A streak of light lanced out of nowhere and struck Davidson’s Typhoon before he had a chance to evade. The weapon, whatever it was, hit its target so hard that Davidson’s plane was blown into a fireball before he had a chance to realise that he was under attack. Alex yanked her plane into an evasive course just as a second streak of light – a very fast missile, according to her on-board displays – slashed through where she’d been. They were under attack! She almost froze in shock – only her training kept her moving. The radar was reporting dozens of new contacts now, appearing from nowhere over the North Sea and moving towards the British mainland. One finger uncovered her firing buttons as she tried desperately to call for reinforcements. The QRA aircraft should have been in the air the moment the radar controllers on the ground realised that something had gone badly wrong.
“Sector Control, this is Charlie One...”
Her radio screeched, loudly enough to force her to turn it down in a hurry. Someone was jamming her, preventing her from calling for help. The unknowns, whoever or whatever they were, were angling towards her, slowing as they came. Whatever they were flying seemed to outmatch her Typhoon effortlessly – who the hell were they? Alex gritted her teeth and activated her targeting systems. An enemy craft came into her sights and she launched a pair of missiles right towards it. The craft started to turn, but it was far too late. One of the missiles struck home and the enemy craft exploded in a shockingly powerful blast.
Another missile was screaming toward her. Acting on instinct, she corkscrewed her plane through the air, realising that she was utterly outmatched. But running could be as dangerous as trying to fight. A black shape appeared out of nowhere in front of her and she plunged the plane down, catching sight of an angular aircraft that reminded her of the F-117 Nighthawk, only several times as large. She took a shot at it anyway – it couldn't possibly be friendly – but she couldn't tell if she’d inflicted any damage. Whatever was screwing with her radio was screwing with her radar as well.
A brilliant flash of light caught her attention, from the west. Something had exploded on the ground, but what? The entire country couldn't be under attack, could it? The RAF hadn't had any reason to think that someone intended to attack
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