While trolling to the west of of F19 last night I came upon a marauding Mustang.. and tho he was higher; I decided to give chase. I watched; giving six calls while he snapped up two kills; all the while aware of me chasing and fending off my attacks through his reversals with confident ease. Though I was gettin a bit closer on each turn; he always held both an alt and e-edge, and never allowed me closer than d2.5.
Eventually, I was jumped myself by a 109; so I had to break off and deal with the threat. I kept an eye on the mustang tho; and he became involved with a bish to the north; and by the time I've killed the determined 109; he's vanished low in the hills up there.
I head up that way.. low on fuel and ammo; but nonetheless, I wanted to nail the guy if I got a chance. The sky is empty of AC; I descend and start scanning the ground. THERE!
A glint of "come get some" aluminum skin, I've got him!
Diving low now; in the weeds.. we stabilze.. both at 400 mph; and d2.5 apart. Again. He's headin east, and I wonder whats up there when we pop over a ridge.. and there's f23! With 4 or 5 planes above it; all enema. Dammo; I've been led to the slaughter! Whotta bonehead.. never checked the map.. was so intent on trims and flyin the nape of the earth, I'd let the tactical situation degrade waaaay to far.
The Mustang pilot pops up through the acks; I swing right 15 degrees and run like a screaming little girl to the North East, up a level plain next to the mountains. I have hills on my right and the Mountains on my left; 5 knits rolling with laughter hot on my ass.
Situation reversed.. only theres no place to go.. and checking the map sez I'm headed for knit f24. I check behind.. the Mustang is right there.. d2.5. Behind him is a knit La5.. maybe d3 back from him. The others are distant dots.. obviously not fast enuff for this day at the races. I'm wepped out and suspect the mustang chasin is too.. he ain't making any gains, but dammit, that La5's gonna be a factor soon enuff.
Another check of the map.. from bad to worse. If I'm gonna get outta here; it's gonna be at the point of my guns. I swing toward the hill and as we reach a bend; I swing up in a tight right hand vertical revers; hugging the side of the hill. the terrain will keep the mustang from getting inside on this.. he forced up.. I tighten the turn; bring out the flaps; this is it.. one HO pass.. I get seady a spit second before the knit stang does, we're muzzel to muzzel.. squeeze a long burst.. YES! GOTTEM! In the exchange the knit stang does me terminal engine damage.. but he's a rain of little parts in my wake.
Smoking; I look around and the La5 is almost on me.. again; I pull into him; show him my guns.. he starts to break away and I get some hits in.. his engines hit; trailing black smoke now.. I push the nose down for a low yo-yo; reverse toward him and my engine coughs out and dies. Options all gone now.. time fer the coupe de gras. He's commin around; and slower now; he's gonna nail me for sure. He's got the shot.. tracers flash past. I jink up; cross control; pull the nose back down and hose him HO again.
Whammo! Got him! I sense from the hits and the dead feel of the plane that my poor pony is shredded; and I hit the silk. Gawd what a handsomehunk move.. chasing that Mustang back to f23...
SALUTE AKWabbit! Master of that Knit Mustang; and please tell that La5 driver he ran a heluva fight for me.. I've forgotten his name.
A heluva day at the races.
Hang
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PALE HORSES
"I looked, and behold; a Pale Horse, and it's riders name was Death, and Hell followed with him" Rev 6.8
