Chapter 89: We Are Not Your Enemy
Adrian knew his men rely on his orders. Whatever he is going to tell them, they are going to oblige.
"Sir?" Ryan called, snapping him out of attention. "We need to respond now or else the next thing they’ll do is fire a missile at us."
"We’re not turning back," Adrian said.
The pilot glanced at him.
"Sir, if we don’t comply, they will engage," he said. "That’s standard interception protocol. We’re already past the warning phase."
"I know," Adrian replied. "But we didn’t come this far to abort."
Ryan shifted slightly.
"They’re not going to negotiate in the air," he said. "Not like this."
Adrian finally turned his head slightly.
"We’re on a humanitarian mission," he said. "We need to land at Camp Humphreys. That’s the objective."
The pilot tightened his grip on the controls.
"Sir, with respect," he said carefully, "that aircraft in front of us is fully capable of taking us out before we even get close to the airfield."
Adrian’s gaze returned forward.
"Then tell me," he said. "What are our countermeasures?"
The co-pilot answered this time, already pulling up defensive systems on his panel.
"We have basic countermeasure suites," he said. "Chaff and flares. Standard defensive package for a transport aircraft."
He continued, more technical now.
"If they fire a radar-guided missile like an AIM-120 AMRAAM, we deploy chaff to disrupt radar lock. If it’s infrared-guided, we deploy flares to spoof the heat signature."
Ryan listened.
"So we can evade?" he asked.
The co-pilot hesitated.
"We can try," he said. "But this isn’t a fighter. We don’t have the maneuverability to outturn a missile. At best, we reduce the probability of a hit."
The pilot added on.
"And that’s assuming a single missile," he said. "If they ripple fire, chances drop even more."
Adrian remained quiet.
Processing.
The co-pilot continued.
"Also, sir... the F-35 isn’t just carrying missiles," he said. "It has an internal 25mm GAU-22/A cannon."
Ryan frowned slightly.
"That range?" he asked.
"Effective within close engagement," the co-pilot replied. "If they get in front or behind us, they can engage with the gun."
The pilot nodded.
"And at that point," he said, "countermeasures won’t matter."
Silence filled the cockpit again.
The reality of it settled.
They were not built for this kind of fight.
"Cold Reach One," Sentinel Eye came through again. "Interceptor is maintaining lock. No missile launch detected yet, but targeting radar is active."
Ryan exhaled slowly.
"They’re locking us," he said.
Adrian nodded once.
"I know."
Another second passed.
Then Adrian spoke again.
"Maintain course," he said.
The pilot didn’t respond immediately.
"...Sir?"
"Maintain course," Adrian repeated. "Hold heading to Camp Humphreys."
Ryan looked at him.
"You’re committing to this?"
Adrian didn’t hesitate.
"Yes."
The pilot let out a slow breath.
"Copy sir, maintaining course."
"Inform them of our decision," Adrian said.
The pilot nodded once and keyed the radio, adjusting the frequency back to the interceptor channel. His tone shifted, still professional, but firmer now.
"Republic of Korea Air Force interceptor, this is Cold Reach One," he said. "We acknowledge your warning. We are maintaining our current heading."
A brief pause.
No reply.
The pilot continued.
"We are not a hostile aircraft," he added. "Repeat, we are non-hostile. We are conducting a humanitarian mission."
He glanced briefly at Adrian, then back to the instruments.
"Our objective is to locate and extract a virologist critical to understanding the outbreak," he went on. "We are not your enemy."
Still nothing from the other side.
Only the low hum of the engines and the steady tone of the radar systems filled the cockpit.
The pilot spoke again, more direct this time.
"The threat is not us," he said. "The threat is on the ground. The infected. That is what we are trying to fight."
"Cold Reach One, Sentinel Eye," the AWACS cut in. "Interceptor is still maintaining fire control lock. No change in posture."
The co-pilot glanced at the radar.
"Lock is solid," he said quietly. "They’re tracking us continuously."
Adrian remained still.
Waiting.
Seconds stretched.
The interceptor came back on.
"Cold Reach One," the Korean pilot said, voice controlled but colder now. "You are refusing to comply with a lawful directive in an active combat zone."
Ryan didn’t move.
Adrian didn’t speak.
The pilot kept his hand on the controls.
"We are not your enemy," the pilot repeated into the mic. "We are here to help contain this outbreak."
Another pause.
"Cold Reach One, this is final warning," the interceptor replied. "Alter course immediately or we will engage."
But Adrian remained firm.
"Cold Reach One, Sentinel Eye!" the AWACS suddenly cut in with a sharp voice. "Missile launch! Missile launch! Interceptor has fired—repeat, interceptor has fired!"
The cockpit snapped into motion.
"Contact front!" the co-pilot called out. "Tracking plume—bearing twelve o’clock!"
Through the windshield, a thin streak of smoke cut across the sky.
"Range closing—!" the co-pilot added.
"Chaff, chaff, chaff!" the pilot ordered immediately.
His hand moved fast across the panel, flipping the countermeasure switch.
A sharp mechanical response followed.
From the rear of the aircraft, there was a burst.
Then another.
Clouds of metallic strips ejected outward, dispersing into the air behind them.
"Deploying chaff!" the co-pilot confirmed. "Breaking lock attempt!"
The pilot pulled slightly on the controls.
"Banking right!" he called.
The massive C-17 responded slower than a fighter would.
The aircraft tilted, adjusting its vector just enough.
"Missile still tracking!" the co-pilot warned. "Radar lock unstable but not broken!"
Ryan braced himself against the frame.
"Distance?" he asked.
"Closing fast—five seconds!" the co-pilot replied.
The pilot didn’t hesitate.
"More chaff!"
Another burst fired out.
The sky behind them filled with shimmering debris, scattering radar signatures.
"Come on... come on..." the pilot muttered under his breath.
"Three seconds!" the co-pilot called.
The missile streaked closer.
Then, on the radar, there was a sudden shift.
"Lock break! Lock break!" the co-pilot shouted. "Missile is veering!"
Through the window, the smoke trail curved slightly.
Pulled away.
Tracking the chaff cloud instead. A second later, a flash.
The explosion bloomed in the distance, the shockwave rippling through the air but missing them entirely.
"We’re still flying," Ryan said, exhaling.
The pilot didn’t relax.
"They’re not done," he said.
As if on cue.
"Cold Reach One, Sentinel Eye," the AWACS came through again. "Interceptor is repositioning. No second launch yet, but they are still in engagement posture."
The co-pilot checked the systems quickly.
"Countermeasures at sixty percent," he said. "We can take another one, but not many."
Ryan looked at Adrian.
This time, there was no question in his eyes.
Just confirmation.
"This is real now," he said.
"I know," Adrian said, opening his inventory.