Episode 117 – Epilogue

Tonopah Test Range Airport, Nevada

The Tonopah Test Range was a strange facility, by any measure. Officially it was operated by Sandia National Labs as a test facility for nuclear weapons. However, it was also home to the USAF’s stealth programs. Over the years, dozens of “black” jets including the famed “Nighthawk” had been based here.

More recently, the Aurora program moved there from Groom Lake when the program had gone from an R&D program to an operational squadron. Despite the firm belief in the media and online that Aurora program had been either a reconnaissance aircraft or a myth, Aurora was neither of these things.

Lt. Colonel James “Cookie” Cook stretched as he stepped off the unmarked and unremarkable 737. It was already hot at oh eight hundred and the forecast was for hotter still. Well, at least he’d be working mostly at night. A grizzled Tech Sergeant was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

“Colonel Cook, sir? Welcome to Dreamland. I am Sergeant Cole, your crew chief.”

“Thank you, Sergeant.”

The Sergeant had thoughtfully brought a car for his new commander and helpfully pointed out landmarks as they drove towards the squadron’s hangar. “The F-117’s are over yonder. They were turnin’ and burnin’ last fall but not so much right at the moment. Them hangars over there are strictly off-limits, even I don’t know what’s in them. I’ll take you into the hanger to see the kites if you like. Most of the squadron are asleep, sir. We run nights around here.”

“Yes, that would be perfect, thank you, sergeant.”

After the Sergeant parked the unmarked and unremarkable government Ford in front of a large hanger, the two men got out and made their way to a small side door. The main hangar doors were closed of course. While they had seen several roving patrols around the base, the hanger was surprisingly unguarded. This program was black, but then the whole base was basically a black site.

The door was locked and secured by a biometric scanner. The Sergeant used a card key and a hand scanner to unlock it. Inside, the hanger was dark and cool. The building was air-conditioned to help keep the delicate instruments inside in working order, not for the comfort of the crews working there. Cook could vaguely make out dark shapes in the hanger in the light of the emergency exit signs and various status lights.

Cole confidently strode over to a lighting panel and flipped some switches. Slowly, the lights came on in the giant hangar. What Cook saw took his breath away.

There were… Twenty… He counted them again, yes twenty aircraft in the hangar. Painted a matte black, the first thing he thought of was the YF-23 “Black Widow” which lost the ATF competition to the F-22. However, a second look told him that was wrong. The first thing he noticed was the larger cockpit, these were two-man aircraft, not single-seaters like the YF-23. It was hard to tell in the building but they also looked larger, more like an F-111 in size. They had the clean flowing lines of the YF-23, twin rear control surfaces were canted well below vertical, just like the YF-23 and much smaller than an F-22 or his trusty F-15E. They looked purposeful and deadly just sitting there.

A sign on the far wall told him all he needed to know about their mission. It said, “4551 Tactical Squadron” with their nickname, “The Grim Reapers” underneath. Cook turned to examine the Sergeant’s shoulder patch. It was the stylized Grim Reaper under a purple starlit sky that he remembered from the F-117 program. Here was the spiritual successor to both the F-111 and the F-117 in one aircraft.

“Welcome to the Grim Reapers, sir. The F-118 is a hell of a plane, I can tell you that sir. The big bitch is a pure supersonic interceptor, but she can also do deep strike, with intercontinental range. You ain’t gonna get into a close-in dogfight with her, but she’ll plink a Su-57 from fifty miles sure as shit. RCS is half of the F-22 and the new anti-IRST tech is the fuckin’ bomb. Sure wish we had been operational for your last furball in the Pacific. They would have been right at home there. Ghosts in the night, bogey is dead before they know they’re under attack.”

“What do you call them?”

“Black Widows.” Finally able to take his eyes off the planes, Cook looked at Cole in surprise. “When the YF-23 lost the ATF, it was converted to a black program and the F-118 was built as a scaled-up -23. The name kinda stuck with the program. Honestly, she’s more about sneakin’ and snipin’ than anything else. She’ll take a crap ton of AIM-120’s in those two big ass internal bays that’s for sure. They pulled the avionics from the F-35A and that AESA LPI is a beauty. Parts is no problem. She’s got two F135 engines, right off the F-35 assembly line so she’s got the power she needs. I’ll put my twenty up against a hundred ChiCom Su-27’s any day. And SEAD? Sheeee-it.”

Cook rubbed his hands in anticipation. He was going to like it here. If there was a next time, he’d be in the right plane for the job.