[Sweden]: Operation Ekanite

[Connor]

Operation Ekanite Swedish Armed Forces Department of Defence

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Official Operation Order​

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Swedish Department of Defence
Swedish Armed Forces Headquarters
Operation Order
August 2006
SECRET - NOFORN​

Situation Report
The integrity of Scandinavian airspace has always been of substantial priority to the Kingdom of Sweden and particular investment has been made to ensure and retain a strengthened capability in this particular sector of defence. March 1995 marked a particular incursion into allied airspace, by the Russian Armed Forces, which identified clear concern for military operations in the region. The quick reaction of the Swedish Armed Forces deterred any hostile act and was of huge success. Over a decade later the Swedish Royal Air Force is to commit to air superiority in the subregion. Fluctuating governance in Russia has drawn natural concern to the Russia-Norway border, particularly with a Brattholmen hosting a Temporary Operating Position: 'TOP Kunes' part of the Swedish Strategic Defence Network. A key site to domestic defence.

Belligerents
Kingdom of Sweden v. Russian Federation

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Objectives
OE/1/PP/06 - COMPLETE - Primary maintenance tasks, pre-deployment ammunition provision and supply of essential services/assets.
OE/1/DA/06 - COMPLETE - Deployment of aerial assets to TOP Kunes, Brattholmen, Norway.
OE/1/AI/06 - COMPLETE - Incursion of Russian Federation airspace.
OE/1/DU/06 - COMPLETE - ELINT data collection and uplink to Swedish Armed Forces Headquarters.

Campaign Register
Nothing to Report

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Live Deployment
Swedish Royal Air Force
└── Norrbotten Air Force Wing
├── 3rd Fighter Squadron
│ └─ 1st Fighter Flight
│ ├─ [2x] Active Personnel
│ └─ [2x] Saab JAS 39E Gripen
│
└── 5th Air Control Squadron
└─ 1st Air Control Flight
├─ [6x] Active Personnel
└─ [1x] Saab 340 AEW&C

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Copyright © Swedish Armed Forces, Kingdom of Sweden
All information is subject to the Swedish Document Classification and Security Act 1995​

[/indent]

 

[Connor]

[CLASSIFICATION: SECRET - NOFORN]
[LOCATION: ULEÅ AIR BASE, SWEDEN]
[TIME: 03H41M]
[WEATHER: OVERCAST, 0C, LIGHT SNOWFALL]
[OPERATION EKANITE - DEPLOYMENT]

Operation Ekanite was one of the riskiest operations the Reinfeldt Administration had authorised and one the Department of Defence was keen to go without failure. The operation would not only test the capability of the Swedish Royal Air Force and it's pilots in a high-stress high-risk mission but also the response of Russia which would serve as key intelligence for geopolitics going forward. Little information was known by intelligence services surrounding the capabilities of Russia, particularly the most recent government whose intentions and ideology were largely unknown in Europe. Nonetheless, the operation would proceed, with an eagle eye from high command.

Early in the morning at Luleå Air Base in the near-polar northern region of Sweden, the Saab 340 would sit within its hardened aircraft shelter under the intense, almost spooky, downcast of the sodium-vapor lights within. A giant in its cave. The freezing temperatures littered the aircraft in patches of frost, clinging to its paintwork despite the slowly rising temperatures as dawn approached. Despite this, the ground crew worked tirelessly preparing the aircraft for the mission: refuelling, countermeasures replenishment, sensor and system tests and airframe checks. The crew would meticulously work through the checklists before the aircraft was de-iced and pushed back out of the hangar following the final thumbs-up from the lead technician. The beacons, strobes and lights of the aircraft glowing off the hardened concrete floor below. Six active personnel sat within the aircraft manning the various systems within whilst the aircraft bumped its way down the taxi-ways. The aircraft would don the name VIKING-ONE for this mission.

VIKING-ONE would soon meet the runway and once giving the all clear from Air Traffic Control would push the throttle forward to roar down the length of the tarmac, generating enough lift to climb into the darkness of the sky. Once at an appropriate cruising altitude the aircraft would level off, retaining a passive mode of operation as they began the early collection of electromagnetic signatures, atmospheric reflections and any spikes in nearby radar patterns - the crew remaining in regular encrypted contact via their headsets within the aircraft.

Meeting them in the snow-draped forests of Sweden at two Saab JAS 39E Gripen, having met a similar level of pre-flight checklists on the ground and each laden with an ALQ-TLS electronic countermeasures pod, two AIM-120 AMRAAM and two AIM-9 Sidewinder missiles - the Mauser BK-27 revolver cannon would also have met a total replenishment of ammunition. The positioning of these pods done so with weight balance in mind. The aircraft would don the names WOLF-ONE and WOLF-TWO and tasked with the protection of the early warning aircraft.

Once in the sky, the Gripens would race over the snow clad hills, climbing up to 100ft AGL to meet that of VIKING-ONE. Their climb was effortless however despite their endeavours within Swedish aircraft they pilots onboard would have their eyes glued to their canopy, watching terrain-following systems dance across their HUD. One they were ahead of VIKING-ONE they'd assume aerial command for the mission.

"WOLF-ONE, leg one, mark plus sixty seconds" the pilot would mutter across encrypted radio channels as the aircraft flew directly towards the Sweden-Finland border which was home to the Tarvantovaara Wilderness Area - their time in their airspace would be minimal before crossing into Norway destined for TOP Kunes, Brattholmen - Swedish territory.

Whilst the deployment was refined to Scandinavia thusfar the aircraft would operate within KP - KQ.

Zak

 

[Connor]

CLASSIFIED - TASA MILITARY ACTIVITY ALERT​

SWEDISH DEPARTMENT OF DEFENCE
SWEDISH ARMED FORCES HEADQUARTERS, STOCKHOLM
ACTIVE MESSAGE
AUGUST 2006​

ACTIVE MESSAGE
CLASSIFIED DATA ENCLOSED
NOT AUTHORISED FOR DISSEMINATION


*** START MESSAGE ***






MINISTRY OF DEFENCE, UNITED KINGDOM
DEPARTMENT OF DEFENCE, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

EUROPEAN THEATRE ACTIVE WARNING
MESSAGE OF ADVANCED WARNING DENOTING THE SWEDISH ARMED FORCES OPERATING ASSETS WITHIN IN THE FOLLOWING DEFINED REGIONS:

1: LAPLAND, SWEDEN
2: FINNMARK, NORWAY​

DEFINED REGIONS INCLUDE RECOGNISED SECTORS 'KP' (KILO PAPA) AND 'KQ' (KILO QUEBEC).

AERIAL MILITARY ASSETS OPERATING LAWFUL MILITARY ACTIVITIES OUTSIDE NATIONAL AIRSPACE AND WITH DUE REGARD AS REQUIRED BY THE CONFINES OF INTERNATIONAL LAW. OPERATIONAL ORDERS DESIGNATED CLASSIFICATION 'SECRET' IN ACCORDANCE WITH SWEDISH DOMESTIC LAW.

RECIPIENTS TO OPERATE WITH DUE REGARD. PLEASE ACKNOWLEDGE.







*** END MESSAGE ***

Jamie Odinson

 

[Odinson]

Top Secret​

The National Military Command Center at the Pentagon received the priority message from Sweden. The NMCC and DoD did not know what the operation was that Sweden was engaging in, nevertheless the warning of Sweden operating in the spaces it designated were notated. U.S. Forces in Europe - especially the U.S. Air Force operating out of the United Kingdom - was securely informed to avoid the area designated by Sweden unless otherwise ordered to do so. A message of receipt was sent within fifteen minutes.​

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​

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NATIONAL MILITARY COMMAND CENTER​

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ENCRYPTED MESSAGE​

** START MESSAGE ** START MESSAGE ** START MESSAGE **​

URGENCY: PRIORITY

CCEB PRECEDENCE: FLASH - IMMEDIATE - PRIORITY

TO: SWEDISH ARMED FORCES HEADQUARTERS, STOCKHOLM ( Connor )
FROM: NATIONAL MILITARY COMMAND CENTER - THE PENTAGON

MESSAGE HAS BEEN RECEIVED AND COMMUNICATED TO U.S. FORCES IN EUROPE.

** END MESSAGE ** END MESSAGE ** END MESSAGE **​

​

​

 

[Zak]

​

CLASSIFIED
The cold glow of monitors reflected off the pale faces of the night shift crew inside the Voronezh early warning radar bunker at Olenegorsk Radar Station. Beneath layers of reinforced concrete and steel, the faint hum of high-frequency generators was a constant presence, almost soothing in its mechanical predictability. But this morning, the pattern broke.

Sergeant Major Leonid Sokolov squinted at his scope, the pulsing radar return subtly shifting. A faint signature had bloomed in the far northwest edge of their grid, small, but deliberate. He leaned closer.

"Contact. Bearing 312. Initial track at 2,500 meters altitude, climbing steadily. Velocity 400 knots. No civilian transponder... profile resembles AEW&C class," he muttered, his fingers dancing over the console to refine the signal.

The green phosphor glow sharpened the target, resolving further detail.

Junior Lieutenant Irina Morozova adjusted the spectrum filter beside him. Her soft voice broke the silence.

"Confirmed emissions, passive sweep mode, wide-band signal signature. It’s probing for EM spectrum reflections. Saab 340 AEW platform. Swedish markings likely, but running dark... no IFF ping. They're hiding, but they want to be seen."

Another blip flickered into existence. Then a second.

"Escort package. Two light combat aircraft in wing formation. Fighters. JAS 39 Gripens, most probable. Low radar cross-section, ALQ-TLS pods active, confirming ECM emissions. Positioning suggests a protective screen for the AEW bird," she said, more alert now, posture straightening.

Across the room, Captain Zubarev, the shift commander, stepped forward to the main screen, arms crossed.

"They're skirting the Swedish-Finnish border. No deviation yet... but they're climbing toward a surveillance corridor. This is no routine patrol. Notify command immediately."

One of the younger operators reached for the secured phone. A red light blinked as he connected directly to the Western Military District HQ in Saint Petersburg.

"Command, Olenegorsk Radar Station reporting. Foreign military formation detected on vector three-one-two. AEW&C support with fighter escort. Speed and altitude consistent with potential Swedish Royal Air Force configuration. Likely probing operation. Request interception authorization, scramble protocol initiated."

Sokolov exchanged a glance with Morozova. The air in the bunker, once calm, had grown tense. Quiet, but tight like stretched cable. This was no exercise.

"Scramble order confirmed," came the reply.

The glow of the Voronezh-M radar pulsed with cold certainty as the Swedish aircraft continued their slow dance far to the west.

“Targets maintaining course. Altitude steady. Aircraft tracking nominal, no deviation,” Senior Lieutenant Pavel Denisovich reported.

He tapped the data feed to Northern Command, transmitting a full update package. Next to him, Chief Warrant Officer Morozov’s jaw tightened as he read the fresh instruction codes blinking onto the screen.

“Message from Severomorsk High Command, place Amderma-2 Air Base on standby, category one standby. Su-27 pair to be armed, fueled, and manned in cockpit. Full afterburner scramble on direct order. Weapons free upon violation warning.”

A low murmur ran through the radar pit.

“Full loadout?” Pavel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Confirmed. R-27 and R-73 loadout. Cannons live. Centerline fuel pod plus wing tanks. Ground crews ordered to ready the Flankers for Arctic intercept. Pilots to cockpit immediately.”

In the frozen dark of Rogachevo, the scene was already unfolding.

Twin hangar doors rumbled open, grinding against the ice as two massive Su-27 fighters sat gleaming beneath harsh arc lights, paintwork frostbitten by the polar cold, their twin engines coughing clouds of condensed vapor into the air.

The lead aircraft bore the markings of "Red 23", its silhouette menacing and sleek against the white landscape. Each wing loaded with R-27R medium-range air-to-air missiles, wingtip pylons fitted with R-73 Archers, and a full complement of cannon ammunition slung beneath its belly.

A crew chief gave a thumb-up signal as the engines spun to idle.

Inside the cockpit, Captain Sergei Karpov, flexed his gloved fingers around the stick.

“Final arming check complete. Fuel tanks full. ECM pod functional. Target tracking codes loaded into IRST and radar suite. We’re good to launch on order,” he said sharply over the comms.

His wingman, Lieutenant Viktor Lebedev, grunted beside him in “Red 24”, eyes sharp behind the HUD.

"Two minutes to scramble, Captain. Let the Swedes take one step too far... I want to be the first to say hello."

Karpov chuckled bitterly.

“Watch and wait, Viktor. As soon as Severomorsk gives the word, we’re off this ice like hawks from a cliff. These Western flies forget this sky belongs to us.”

Back in the bunker, the Voronezh screen pulsed slowly.

“Targets holding course... no deviation... but we watch,” Pavel said, voice quiet.

Morozov smirked coldly, watching the data feeds from Amderma-2 flicker online.

“Su-27s fueled. Weapons hot. Pilots in cockpit. Two minutes to air at most. Let the Swedes play near the border... and they’ll meet our Flankers face to face.”

“Good,” Irina Kovalyova muttered from the ELINT console. “Let them see that Russia waits, not blind, not deaf. Ready.”

For now, the radar swept the sky in silence.

But deep in the north, in the cold heart of Rogachevo, two fighters burned quietly in the dark, fully armed, fueled, and eager.

Waiting for the order.

Connor

 

[Connor]

[CLASSIFICATION: SECRET - NOFORN]
[LOCATION: LAPLAND, FINLAND]
[WEATHER: OVERCAST, 0C, LIGHT SNOWFALL]
[OPERATION EKANITE]

VIKING-ONE would hold a steady orbit just short of west of the Finnish border, almost as if it were a hawk in the dusk, floating through the calm air of the upper troposphere. Inside the aircraft, the well versed crew would make use of the various touchscreens and analog switches with disciplined prescision calibrating and recalibrating antenna sweeps and passive listening arrays. One thing was clear though: no response from Russia yet. This wasn't unexpected, especially given that Sweden was pretty much within its own airspace or traversing that of an ally, so the lack of Russian activity was expected, they had nothing they would be able to justify responding to yet.

Nonetheless, slightly below and head of them, WOLF-ONE and WOLF-TWO would cut through the dry Artic air humming with their restrained violence as they danced across the jagged hills of Lapland and over the Tarvantovaara Wilderness where the terrain began to shift. The aggressive landscape soon turned into undulating valleys which they would absolutely use to their advantage. Any plotting of the aircraft as a result of radar interception would soon become difficult as they traversed the peaks and troughs of the region - landscapes which almost appeared manmade. The route was meticulously plotted: eat over Finnish Lapland, skirting the edge of Norway, and slicing into the far northeast of Russian territory for mere moments - enough to provoke a response, but short enough to deny escalation.

"WOLF-ONE, checkpoint Bravo" was muttered through encrypted communications with a clipped, flat voice as the Gripen bucked in the wind shear. In the distance, a faint amber glow decorated the polar night, reflecting across the ice-clad peaks.

Behind them, VIKING-ONE vectored slightly westward in order to direct itself direct for Brattholmen, Norway where Sweden had, for many years, retained a Temporary Operating Position. This base was positioned on sovereign territory of the Kingdom of Sweden and was soon to receive investment to further establish the Swedish Strategic Defence Network with the consideration of developing threats: of which Russia was considered one of a few. Nonetheless, the intent with VIKING-ONE was for it to remain within Swedish legal boundaries, giving the aircraft of huge technological advancement safe haven from any hostile action, but close enough to give unquestionable support to additional assets within the mission.

From within the AEW&C aircraft, an analyst would watch the ELINT returns spike in real-time as Russian systems repeatedly struck against the aircrafts fuselage and attached monitoring systems and sensors. "Multiple low-frequency pings from the east. Passive array confirms one distinct source" she would beckon to the commanding officer before mumbling to herself as she leans into her screens.

WOLF-ONE and WOLF-TWO would continue their transit direct for the Russia-Norway border. They had some distance to go yet, but they remained poised on their HUD, not out of fear but out of pure focus. As they cross invisible international boarders the flight computer would echo through the cockpit with a sharp tone to inform the pilots. The sky remained silent so far, but they weren't so inexperienced to think it would remain that way.

Zak

 

[Zak]

CLASSIFIED
The cold, stale air of the radar control room hummed with suppressed fury. Rows of consoles flickered green in the gloom, the Voronezh radar screens casting pale light onto the strained faces of the operators inside.

“Contact maintained. Saab 340, holding pattern. Altitude thirty-two thousand feet. Stationary orbit west of the Finnish line. No deviation.” Senior Lieutenant Pavel Denisovich reported coldly, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

“Still sniffing,” added ELINT specialist Irina Kovalyova, glancing sideways at her console. “Signal spikes every sweep. Their antenna arrays are live, probing, searching, tracking us. They’re pushing their passive gear to the limit. They know exactly what they’re doing. Bastards are trying to measure our northern coverage.”

Behind her, Chief Warrant Officer Morozov barked a curse under his breath, cracking his knuckles loud enough to make the nearest junior operator flinch.

“And these two Gripens are in the Lapland sector, terrain-following under radar horizon. Altitude less than seventy meters AGL now. Flickering on IR every thirty seconds when they lift over a ridge. They think they’re ghosts. They think we can’t see.”

Pavel snorted in disgust.

“Voronezh watches everything north of Europe. I see their exhaust bloom and feel their vector shift every time they crest a hill. And they’re getting closer. Their track is brushing the corridor line... toward our border."

A sharp beep-beep cut through the tension.

“Command Directive from Northern Fleet in Severomorsk is Amderma-2 Flight to scramble immediately. Full armament. Full fuel. Ready intercept protocol. No warning shot unless airspace is violated. Shadow and deter Swedish incursion. Execution authority: Radar Command Olenegorsk.”

For a moment the room fell deathly silent.

Pavel grinned darkly.

“Finally. Let the bear lift its paw.”

Beyond the snow-crusted runways of the Arctic base at Amderma-2 Air Base, the dawn sky was slate grey, the breath of the Polar wind blowing fine ice crystals across the concrete like ghosts. But inside the sealed cockpits of Red 23 and Red 24, the world was quiet, a world of breathing, instruments, and cold discipline.

Captain Sergei Karpov, pilot of Red 23, sat still in his seat, an island of deadly calm, as the last clearance came over the encrypted channel.

"ARCTIC FLIGHT, tower to lead, cleared immediate takeoff, runway 3-0. Intercept vector zero-nine-zero. Contact Olenegorsk radar net on climb. You are weapons tight until hostile intent confirmed. Repeat, weapons tight."

Karpov's lips curled in annoyance as he adjusted his grip on the stick.

“Understood, tower. ARCTIC FLIGHT rolling,” he muttered flatly, his voice sharp, clipped, laced with irritation.

At his side in Red 24, Lieutenant Viktor Lebedev chuckled darkly over the internal comms.

"Finally. About time they let the dogs off the leash."

“All this creeping Swedish bullshit, skirting our borders like they own the sky,” Karpov growled, eyes narrowing as his thumb rested on the engine throttle. “Let’s make them feel real fear today. Real Russian steel in their mirrors.”

With a flick, he shoved both throttle levers forward to full afterburner.

The twin Saturn AL-31F engines howled like beasts awakening, their power tearing through the Arctic stillness, spitting brilliant white flame into the polar gloom. The Su-27 leapt forward like a missile, tires screeching as the massive airframe roared down the runway.

His head pressed back against the seat as the G-forces built. The whole aircraft shuddered with restrained violence, heavy with fuel, six fully armed R-27 and R-73 missiles slung under its wings, internal cannon primed, flare dispensers loaded. Every hardpoint meant for killing was loaded and ready.

“Gear up!” Karpov barked as the Flanker ripped free of the concrete and into the frozen sky. The wheels retracted with a thud.

Red 24 lifted clean behind him, engines in afterburner, close and tight on his right wing.

“Climb, angels two-five. Radar hot. Set intercept vector east,” Karpov ordered.

The Su-27’s radar flickered on, its cone sweeping wide across the northern sky. The screen lit up, faint, but there, three contacts dancing near the distant border zone.

"There they are," Lebedev murmured. "VIKING-ONE, high... Gripens, low and fast, terrain hugging Lapland’s teeth. As expected."

Karpov scowled.

"Swedes think they are clever. Passive ELINT or not, they lit up when our Voronezh looked at them. Now they get a proper greeting."

His HUD flickered with range, 142 kilometers and closing fast.

Olenegorsk Control crackled in their ear over an encrypted channel.

"ARCTIC FLIGHT, contacts designated BANDIT-ONE high, BANDIT-TWO and BANDIT-THREE low. Maintain intercept heading. Show presence. No weapons release unless they cross boundary or lock."

Karpov smirked. "Show presence? We will show them the entire fucking Russian North."

Mach 0.95. Mach 1.0.

The Flankers punched up into the thin sky, afterburners trailing blue fire, cutting the air clean, hunting shadows.

The earth below stretched white and infinite, but ahead, painted by their radar and confirmed by Voronezh far behind, were the shapes of the Swedish birds. VIKING-ONE, sitting high, greedy for emissions. And below, the wolves, Gripens low, darting, watching.

“Viktor, when we pass fifty clicks, spread left. Flank them high, but no lock. Make them sweat.”

“Copy that. They’ll smell the kerosene off my nosecone before I even pass.”

Karpov grinned behind the oxygen mask.

“Let them listen. Let them record. They wanted Russia’s answer. They’re going to get it.”

The sky filled with the roar of jet engines. Russian steel was in the air, and closing fast to the Russian border region as they remained in Russian airspace.

Connor

 

[Connor]

[CLASSIFICATION: SECRET - NOFORN]
[LOCATION: NORTHERN RUSSIA]
[WEATHER: OVERCAST, -2C, LIGHT SNOWFALL]
[OPERATION EKANITE - INCURSION]

VIKING-ONE remained on station, flying serene and unshaken in its steady orbit along the edge of the Finnish airspace, its shadow adding a stark decoration to the white wilderness below. The Erieye AESA radar, with its advanced electronic beam steering and low emissions, painted a crystal-clear picture of the unfolding scenario. At altitude the Saab 340 AEW&C retained a sturdy presence in their sky - its emissions carefully monitored, its positioning non-aggressive but within the cockpit, it was anything but idle. The team onboard operated in an expertly choreographed manner as they danced between monitoring positions passing information and intelligence to one another. Despite the Russian scramble from Amderma-2 Air Base.

One of the ELINT analysts would suddenly notice two blips emerge across his screen, which he would immediately lock and monitor. The officer would shout across the room "CONTACT!" in a clear, professional tone before relaying the identifying information from his screen: altitude, speed and bearing. The intermittent radar emissions and tactical datalinks would begin to be downloaded and run through the Swedish Armed Forces database in order to identify the make and model of the approaching contact for a match in previous military involvement. IR and engine noise sensors made it easy to identify that the afterburners were engaged - these sensors would be heavily scrutinised in order to identify the point of departure.

Beneath, WOLF-ONE and WOLF-TWO pressed onward, to them the ridges of the terrain below masked their cross-section. Their route was exact - skirting Finnish airspace and then carefully dancing across the Russian border for a brief, deliberate incursion need the tri-border zone. The pilots were disciplined in their silence, conscious that every single meter over Russian soil was a calculated risk to a whole host of reaction thresholds. The mission was delicate. Intentional enough to prompt a response but measured enough to prevent the risk of an escalating use of force which would undoubtedly cause an international incident. VIKING-ONE played a key role in this. They would carefully track the Gripen's with their own systems ensuring there were no stray active radar emissions and low IR signatures. The profile of the aircraft blends seamlessly into the terrain; making it extremely difficult for the Flankers and radar systems to have a confident link until they were in visual range.

"WOLF-ONE, checkpoint Charlie time plus five, acknowledge" the lead pilot would feed over the encrypted air. In response, the commanding officer would respond clearly "WOLF-ONE, roger, continue mission parameters, radio silence after checkpoint". Next was short and concise: "WOLF-ONE wilco".

The AEW&C Erieyes data feed updated continuously.

The Gripen's would dip below the treeline and slip past the invisible boundary into Russian airspace, maintaining total radio silence to limit any form of electronic intelligence. VIKING-ONE adjusted slightly, monitoring every pulse and signature.

The Arctic wind whispered over frozen tundra and two of the worlds most technologically advanced fighter jets in the world clawed their way through the untouched landscape.

Zak

 

[Zak]

​

ENCRYPTED
The cold static of the encrypted Olenegorsk control net buzzed briefly in Captain Sergei Karpov’s ear as he banked his Su-27 Flanker hard to starboard. The massive interceptor groaned under the G-load, heavy with its full combat load, six live missiles, fully fueled, ready for war.

Ahead, like grey ghosts against the snowy wilderness, the Swedish Gripens held their course, fast, low, weaving carefully along the ridgelines, dancing the line of the Russian border. No radio contact. No deviation.

“Red 24, flank right, box them in close. No lock, no fire. We show steel, make them feel it.” Karpov’s voice was cold, precise.

“Copy. Time to herd the sheep,” muttered Lieutenant Viktor Lebedev in Red 24.

The two Flankers split formation cleanly, Red 24 dropping low to terrain height, cutting sharply across the Swedish fighters’ path at high speed, forcing the Gripen pilots to see the vast shape of the Su-27 filling their canopy, blocking their projected route without crossing into dangerous airspace.

At the same moment, Red 23 pitched upward, rolled left, and dove down from high altitude, slashing across the Swedish formation’s front from above in a wide, threatening arc, afterburners flaring brilliant white against the winter sky. Turbulence from the massive Flanker battered the air as Karpov swung directly in front of the lead Gripen, a deliberate, unignorable wall of Russian steel.

“Unidentified aircraft, this is the Russian Air Force on Guard frequency. You are nearing restricted Russian airspace. Turn immediately to the north or west. You are being shadowed. You are intercepted.” Karpov transmitted, his voice slow, firm, a warning laced with menace.

Still no response. The Swedish formation held its nerve, silent, disciplined, unfazed, pressing forward on their precise route along the invisible border line.

Karpov grunted softly. So they wanted to play stubborn. Very well.

“Red 24, again. Closer this time. Don’t cross their nose, but make them feel us breathing down their necks. We herd them without touch. No errors. No incident. Unless they force it.”

“Copy. Coming in low starboard, half-click offset.” Lebedev’s Flanker flashed low again, pulling tight ahead of the trailing Gripen, its heat signature roaring hot into Swedish IR sensors. A silent warning. No radar lock, but close enough for any decent pilot to feel the pressure through instinct alone.

From his own cockpit, Karpov pulled into a wider loop, cutting across the lead Gripen’s projected path once more, just above and forward, large and impossible to ignore. His RWR flickered as the Swedish radar watched, but their weapons stayed cold. So did his.

“Control, Red 23 and Red 24, executing visual defensive deterrence. Targets refuse deviation. No lock. Continuing shadow. Close intercept performed.” He reported calmly.

The Flankers loomed in the frozen sky, a constant, menacing presence, herding shadows on the edge of the motherland. Their missiles hung heavy beneath their wings, their afterburners scorched the thin air as they flexed Russian air power without crossing the final line.

“They are bold today, Sergei,” Lebedev muttered grimly over the private channel. “Still they press on. Testing us. Pushing for weakness.”

“Let them. They get nothing but steel and sky.” Karpov’s gloved hand tightened on the throttle.

Beneath them the Arctic tundra stretched wide, silent — but in the sky above, the quiet war of nerves burned hotter than the engines of the Su-27s.

Russia was watching.

And the Bear refused to blink.

Connor

 

[Connor]

[CLASSIFICATION: SECRET - NOFORN]
[LOCATION: NORTHERN RUSSIA]
[WEATHER: OVERCAST, 0C, LIGHT SNOWFALL]
[OPERATION EKANITE - CONTACT]

In unflinching focus, the pilot of WOLF-ONE set his gaze dead ahead, despite the world around him blurring with the motion. The snowy landscape beneath him becoming mundane opposite to its initial unmistakeable awe-inspiring beauty. Suddenly, in his peripheral vision he would notice the unmistakeable flash of heat bloom - a Russian Flanker diving from altitude, although he didn't know it yet. He remained focussed. The flight computers in-front of him flickered with various amounts of data: his speed and altitude stable, radar signature minimal and electronic countermeasures passive. There were no reported locks from the systems onboard but the pilot didn't need alarms to know the Russian's were close.

"VIKING-ONE, WOLF-ONE. Visual contact confirmed - two Flankers, close intercept pattern. No lock. Transmitting package now." he would beckon over the encrypted radio networks, holding the stick firmly as his other hand toggled the datalink package through encrypted channels back to command. A tight burst transmission followed upstream to VIKING-ONE containing all the electro-optical and infrared bloom data - all time-stamped. Upon contact the pilot would flick a switch within the aircraft, enabling a live recording through his view of the HUD and canopy.

WOLF-TWO tracked the Flankers as they approached and it surged ahead through the buckles in the turbulent air, riding the wake to keep the aircraft in sight. Still no radio, no lights, sticking to the plan.

Inside the mission bay of VIKING-ONE, alarms started to ping softly, confirming what the ELINT analysts had already seen. One of the officers onboard, adrenaline running through his body, would hang over the radar screens as if his life depended on it, as the blips followed the course of the Gripens he would grow increasingly concerned. One of the radio operators would respond almsot immediately "WOLF-ONE, package received, confirmed intercept manoeuvres. Recording live telemetry."

"WOLF-TWO visual. Franker offsetting close, cameras rolling."
"Roger. Continue ingress, next waypoint forty seconds!" WOLF-ONE would respond immediately.

The interception from the aircraft, although clear and not intended to be aggressive, were sub-consciously of huge concern to the pilots of the Gripens. The distance between the aircrafts were growing smaller and brought them well within collision parameters. Nonetheless, the Swedish formation held its discipline - no lock, no deviation, no reply. Inside VIKING-ONE the ELINT suite continued to quietly catalogue every microsecond of radio silence, every signal, every pulse, every movement - on both sides. The intelligence was golden. Radars didn't search, they listened, they collected and they stored. The mission clock continued to tick.

WOLF-ONE would then, without warning, bank gently north, rising its altitude as the terrain dropped away beneath it. This wasn't a retreat or a sign of intimidation, it was a shift in purpose. The aircraft had exactly what they needed: a response. Data had been collected, a message delivered and the sky had been tested.

"WOLF-ONE, mission parameters met, package secure, egressing west" - with that, both aircraft would slowly bank back towards the Scandinavian frontier, by this point close to the Norwegian corridor as they began to dance across Russian airpsace back towards the border. Their bank allowing the sun to shine across the fuselage of their aircraft, decorated with the various missiles attached to their hardpoints - yet another message to the Russian's - play silly games and win silly prizes. Sweden had come armed, and measured.

VIKING-ONE shifted its orbit to maintain coverage, its data banks filling and its sensors still watching curiously.

Sweden has let Russia watch - undoubtedly in absolute admiration for the superiority of the west.

Zak

 

[Zak]

ENCRYPTED
The air was thin and razor-sharp at angels two-five, the cold light of the polar sun glinting off the curved canopies of Red 23 and Red 24 as the Swedish aircraft finally banked gently to the northwest, their formation turning, slipping away toward the Scandinavian frontier. Their message delivered, their data gathered.

Captain Sergei Karpov watched it all through his HUD, silent behind his oxygen mask. The silent dance was over.

“Red 23, targets breaking west, heading home. They’ve had their fill.” Lieutenant Lebedev’s voice crackled in the private channel, laced with dry amusement. “No shots, no beacons. Like good boys.”

Karpov only grunted. His eyes never left the Swedish shadows as they faded into the grey distance, their IR blooms shrinking with every passing second.

A terse burst came across the Olenegorsk command net:

“Arctic Flight, intercept complete. Divert to Murmansk Nicholas II Airport for refuel and recuperation. Maintain altitude angels two-five. Olenegorsk control terminates. Switch Murmansk Approach on two-three-four decimal one-five.”

Karpov acknowledged, switching frequencies with a flick of his gloved thumb.

“Murmansk Approach, this is Red 23, flight of two Su-27s, outbound tri-border zone. Intercept complete. Request vector to Emperor Nicholas II Airport for landing and refuel.”

The radio crackled.

“Red 23, Murmansk Approach. Radar contact. Cleared direct to Emperor Nicholas II. Altitude angels two-five. Expect runway two-niner. Police ground security standing by. Confirm weapons status, safe and secured.”

“Red 23, roger. Weapons tight, secured. Diverting towards Murmansk.” Karpov’s voice remained clipped, professional.

The twin Flankers banked smoothly onto a northwesterly heading, cutting across the frozen vastness toward Murmansk. Below, the stark white wilderness stretched to the horizon, the glow of twilight turning the distant coastline steel-grey.

As the coastline of the Kola Peninsula came into view, the radio barked again.

“Red 23, cleared visual approach, runway two-niner. Expect armed security detail on apron. Fuel trucks standing by. Ground support ready for hot pit refuel. You are advised brief stop only, Olenegorsk requests full pilot debrief on return.”

Karpov smiled slightly behind his mask. The Bear watches everything. And keeps its claws sharp.

“Red 23 copies all. Beginning descent,” he replied, throttling back the mighty AL-31Fs. The howl of the twin engines softened as the Su-27 dropped cleanly through the clouds, airbrakes opening like the wings of a hunting hawk.

The approach was smooth, silent. As the grey bulk of Emperor Nicholas II Murmansk Airport loomed below, Karpov caught the flash of blue lights on the far apron, local police and airport ground units positioned carefully around the designated hardstand, rifles cradled, scanning the tarmac.

The Flankers touched down hard but clean, tires hissing against the frost-dusted concrete. Karpov popped the drag chute, the Su-27 slowing as it taxied under the watchful eyes of the armed security cordon, their presence standard in such high-alert postures following an intercept of foreign-aligned aircraft.

Ground crews in heavy parkas jogged from the shelter of hangars, refueling trucks rolling into position as Karpov powered down systems, flipping the weapon safing switches. His aircraft’s belly was heavy with live ordnance, a clear reminder to all watching that this was not a training sortie.

“Red 23 on the blocks. Hot pit refuel. No canopy open until cleared. Security perimeter holding.” Karpov reported as the Su-27 hissed and cooled.

Through the icy cockpit glass, he could see the guards, masked, rifles shouldered, scanning for any threat as the fuel lines were connected. The aircraft would not remain long, Olenegorsk’s orders were strict. Fuel, debrief, then return to home base.

“No shame in this one, Viktor. We showed them the Bear’s teeth. And they flinched.” Karpov muttered.

Lieutenant Lebedev’s voice replied in his ear, dry and quiet.
“They came to poke the north. We came to remind them who owns the sky. Let’s get home.”

The Su-27 sat like a crouched beast on the tarmac, steam curling from its exhausts, waiting to rise again into the frozen sky. Once refueled and cleared by ground command, Red 23 and Red 24 would depart Murmansk and return to their home station at Amderma-2 Air Base, the northern shield once again at rest, for now.

Connor

 

[Connor]

[CLASSIFICATION: SECRET - NOFORN]
[LOCATION: BRATTHOLMEN, NORWAY]
[WEATHER: SUNRISE, -3C, LIGHT SNOWFALL]
[OPERATION EKANITE - RETURN TO BASE]

The noise of the four fighter aircraft dancing across the sky gave a deafening echo to noise below, especially with their altitude being sickenly low as the Swedish expertly hop their way through the radar cross sections. By now the aircraft were well and truly across the border and flying direct to Swedish sovereign territory in Norway. Silence would fall upon the sky again. But silence meant nothing in this operation, particularly with VIKING-ONE still actively measuring its orbit just shy of the Finnish border, sensors active. The bear may have shown its teeth, but one thing was for sure, VIKING-ONE had blood dripping from its fangs. Within the aircraft ELINT and radar teams continued to remain focussed, recording, tracking and compiling every single move and decision made by the Russian contingent. The heat signatures of the Flankers had began to fade but their flight paths, decorated by their radio bursts and data link pings create a perfectly curated picture for intelligence.

"WOLF-ONE, VIKING-ONE. Intercept group diverted and vectored north-northwest. Nice work."
"WOLF-ONE, copy. Exfil."

The team onboard would continue to monitor the aircraft, particularly noting their arrival at Emperor Nicholas II Murmansk Airport. Alarms and chimes still rang out as intelligence feeds updated. Within seconds, encrypted data packets were running through secure relay notes from airborne systems back to command centres in Stockholm, Boden and Luleå where additional analysts would continue their work. Everything would be included from radar sweeps, electronic countermeasure signatures, even public Air Traffic Control communications which has been intercepted and catalogued.

The Swedish Gripens were not soaring high and fast above the northern Norwegian wilderness, their route threading carefully westward beneath VIKING-ONE's watchful eye. The mission had gone exactly as planned. The Russian Flankers had responded, as predicted and as a result the team had collated a huge amount of intelligence which would be key for any future endeavours.

"WOLF-ONE to VIKING-ONE. Confirm full uplink. Rejoining route FOXTROT OSCAR, riding home."
"VIKING-ONES copy, egress."

Meanwhile, back in the Armed Forces Headquarters in Stockholm inside a secure briefing room, the lights dimmed in the operations room as the last of the mission footage rolled to a stop and a variety of senior personnel sat around the room. Their eyes darting between eachother as they waited for someone to end the silence. One senior official would laugh to himself, met with a gentle clap to himself...

"No weapons lock... no deviation... they barely sneezed at us!"

Zak

 

[Connor]

[CLASSIFICATION: SECRET - NOFORN]
[LOCATION: BRATTHOLMEN, NORWAY]
[WEATHER: SUNRISE, -3C, LIGHT SNOWFALL]
[OPERATION EKANITE - MISSION COMPLETE]

The deafening wallow of jet engines soon gave way to a distant rumble as the final Gripen rolled to stop beneath the orange hue of floodlights back at Luleå Air Base, Sweden. Snow flurries blew gently across the ground as the wind danced over the fuselage of the aircraft - the canopies lifted, exposing the helmeted silhouettes to the cold northern air, they were without doubt exhausted but overwhelmed with excitement following the successful mission. Ground crews would immediately drown the aircraft in activity with almost total silence, guiding the aircraft with glowing wards - just routine, not overindulgence.

Within the mission operations centre, the final data packets from VIKING-ONE's sensor arrays flashed green across the download bar on their secure terminals. The invaluable asset had stayed on station until the last possible minute continuing to sweep the skies before finally executing her westward travel back home. Every burst, ping and twitch from the Russian response was now captured, archives, encrypted and sent back to the control centre for total analysis. The mission was an unbelievable success and marked one of the first opportunities that technical analysis would feed future military operation for the Swedish Armed Forces. In Stockholm, headquarters sat in an eerily calm fashion and the monitors began to fade down to black, the mission clock was stopped and senior commanders began to collect their belongings and paperwork to retire back to their offices. Glazed looks and coffee ring marks decorated the room.

"VIKING-ONE to OPCON. Final sweet complete and the datalink closed. RTB."

This was the last transmission of the mission as the ELINT crew onboard began powering down their consoles, the mission now complete. They'd mapped the electronic heartbeat of Russians northern rapid response without even crossing the border. The silence from Russia had been telling.

Operation Ekanite was complete. At the order of the Secretary of Defence, all documentation was to be formatted for archiving.