Fenix (14 page)

              “Is it operational, -two?” Dutt asked.

              “Can’t say, leader.”

              “We can’t take the risk,” Jagat finally joined the conversation. “Take it out! And make it quick! We are burning precious fuel here!”

              “Wilco, panther-actual,” Dutt replied. “Leopard-two, you have the ball. One Nag should do the trick. Aim for the bunker entrance.”

              “Roger!”

              Jagat saw the view angle of the bunker seen on the
FLIR
of leopard-two move to the right as the helicopter maneuvered into a proper position. A couple seconds later the view shuddered slightly and Jagat jerked his head up to see a speck of rocket exhaust go up from the otherwise complete dark visibility to his northeast. The radio chimed in for everybody’s benefit:

              “Missile is
away
,” the calm voice noted. “Impact now…now…
now!
”

              The silent display showed the Nag anti-tank missile as it slammed into one of the slit-entrance of the bunker. The explosive warhead detonated in a flash of white-black on the screen and enveloped all of the interior. Flames leapt out of the supposed firing positions within the bunker a split second before the roof flew off underneath an inverted cloud of concrete and dust. The crackling explosion echoed through the valley.

              “Good kill, leopard-two,” Jagat said as the
FLIR
view backed out of zoom. “Leopard-actual, are we clear?”

              “Roger, panther. Leopard-three and –four will cover our rear and suppress what we missed. I suggest we go.”

              Jagat looked to his copilot and nodded as he lowered his night-vision goggles and brought the helicopter out of hover. The other two Dhruvs did the same.

              “Leopard-one, I have you at my eleven position at one kilometer,” Jagat saw the rotating blades and dark silhouette of the
LCH
near the top of the ridgeline against the greenish sky of his optics. The last thing he needed now was a mid-air collision…

              “Leopard copies. We will keep our distance, panther.”

              Jagat saw the
LCH
rise from its pop-up position and pitch down as it disappeared on the other side of the ridge. A few seconds later the three Panther choppers were also doing the same. Jagat felt the weightlessness as the helicopter crested the top of the ridgeline and dived on the other side. They were now directly facing the Pakistani positions on the other ridgeline to the north. But these were now dead. Smoke was bellowing in thick plumes from the bunker complex that leopard-two had hit with a Nag missile. Other positions had dust clouds hovering above them as the seven Indian helicopters flew past.

              The radio chimed in Jagat’s ears: “We got runners on the ground below us!
Engaging!
”

              A flash of explosions ripped apart a cluster of trees to Jagat’s left. He turned his head to see the trees burning furiously as leopard-three fired several unguided rockets into them and banked away. Jagat thought he saw several Pakistani soldiers running back to the west, away from the ingress path of the Indian helicopters. Leopard-three’s gunner kept them occupied with bursts of cannon fire, to which they responded with inaccurate small arms fire. Jagat saw the tracers heading into the sky in completely wrong directions…

              “Looks like they are thoroughly confused!” Jagat’s co-pilot noted as they crested the ridge past the Pakistani frontlines. 

              “But it won’t last,” Jagat said as they dived past the ridges and into Pakistan-occupied-Kashmir. “We hit them with superior firepower and a larger force. They are still in shock at the hole we hammered past their positions. Once they figure things out, we will run into organized and heavy resistance. Let’s just hope we can get out before that happens.” He looked at the moving-map-display and the old-fashioned paper maps fitted into the translucent cover pocket on his thigh. “What’s our
E-T-A
to the
D-Z
?”

              “Um…approximately ten minutes.”

              “Good. Spread the word to our operators in the back.” Jagat realized that he had not heard any chatter from any of the four air-force
LCH
crews or his other two panther crews.

             
Good
…he thought. Panther and leopard were now running radio-silent and didn’t need to be reminded of it. Jagat could see only the faint outlines of the two
LCH
s to his front, two kilometers down the valley. He had to assume that the others behind him were keeping eyes on him and maintaining distance as well. As they flew into the valleys of occupied Kashmir on their way to Deosai, Jagat looked to the side and saw only the ghostly black silhouettes of the mountains against the greenish skies above…

              “Drop zone in the next valley at two-o-clock, three kilometers,” his co-pilot noted, breaking the silence in the cockpit. Jagat transmitted the only
VHF
comms from the seven helicopters to be picked up by the orbiting Indian unmanned-aerial-vehicle over the Deosai valley:

“Panther is entering the
A-O
. Out.”

──── 15
────

T
he splattering of sparks on the ridgeline caused Muzammil and his lieutenants to look up just as the Indian Jaguar strike aircraft dashed out of the valley. The thunderclap from the explosion ripped past Muzammil and his men and left the trees swaying under its force…

One of his lieutenants exclaimed in Pashtu. Muzammil realized he had never gotten used to the language of his afghan veterans despite the years they had been with him. He kept his peace as the other afghan mujahedeen in his group spoke excitedly with each other. Secondary explosions lit up the sky from the Pakistani army ammo dump that had just been destroyed. Tracers were still flying into the sky as the rumble of aircraft echoed through the valleys long after the actual aircraft had left.

“
Shut up!
” Muzammil thundered, bringing silence within the excited men around him. “Go see to your men!”

“The Indians have taken over the skies!” Muzammil’s aide noted as he made sense of the dozens of back-and-forth conversations over his radio. “We
cannot
get our men to move on the roads to the border!”

Muzammil frowned. This was the day they had planned for
years
. Open jihad in Kashmir. And yet, the infidels had seized the initiative and were laying waste to all logistics behind the Pakistani lines. Indian artillery rockets were pummeling prepared positions. And they had decimated Pakistani aircraft stationed in the Kashmir mountains. All in all, it was a staggering escalation of events that neither Muzammil nor the Generals in Rawalpindi had anticipated. The net result of it all was that the attacks were choking the movement of the
thousands
of gathered jihadists.

“If only we could
get
to the frontlines, we could overwhelm them!” Muzammil muttered as he unrolled the paper map on the hood of the Toyota truck, parked by the roadside. He unshouldered his Kalashnikov rifle and put it on the hood while his commanders gathered around him. He looked at them: “We
must
find a way to move forward, despite the cursed enemy aircraft and artillery! We will disperse and move on foot if we have to. They cannot catch us when we are off the roads.”

“It worked in Afghanistan and it will work here,” his Afghan commander noted. Muzammil liked this man. He had had led his cadres alongside the Pashtuns when they had overwhelmed Kabul’s forces along the Afghan-Pakistan border, two years ago. And Muzammil had seen for himself the massacre of those Afghan army soldiers who had the misfortune to being taken alive by these men. It had made Muzammil shudder. And that was saying something, considering the blood on his hands. Muzammil had long since decided to listen to this man for military advice…

   “How long you imagine before the men can move through the forests to the Indian positions?” Muzammil said as both men peered at the maps. The maps had been provided to them by their contacts in the Pakistani army, and it showed all Indian military positions and strengths along the border. His commander stared intently at the map and then nodded as he stroked his beard: “I anticipate two days f…”

The splatter of blood on his face caught Muzammil by surprise and he shuddered, utterly shocked, as the body of his afghan commander slumped to the ground.

K
amidalla lowered his multi-caliber rifle and focused his night-optics to make sure the target was still alive and kicking. He opened comms just as the cacophony of rifle-fire picked up around them:

“Pathfinder-two here. The chicken are all riled up but the rooster is still up and about!”

Kamidalla brought up his rifle and took aim. He could see Muzammil’s men firing in all directions around their parked Toyotas. They had no inkling of
who
, or
what
, had engaged them and
where
from. Three of their commanders now lay in a pool of blood. Muzammil had taken cover behind the open door of his vehicle, not knowing that he was in full sight of Kamidalla, two-hundred meters away in the trees…

Kamidalla put his index finger on the trigger of his rifle whilst putting the red-dot sight on Muzammil’s forehead. The latter was clearly shaking and shivering. Inside his green-black view, Kamidalla could see dark, black stains on the man’s face and on the military jacket he was wearing.

Blood stains.

“What’s the status of the rooster?” Pathanya’s calm voice came through on Kamidalla’s earpiece. He lowered his rifle: “Shaking but alive.”

              “Good,” Pathanya noted. “Let him keep shivering for the next few minutes. Keep your eyes on him. And keep us informed if makes a break for it.”

              “Wilco.”

P
athanya and two of the other pathfinders moved past the bushes, three-hundred meters west. They had one arm holding their rifles at shoulder level and were using the other to move odd branches and scrubs out of the way. They took slow, deliberate steps and moved gradually to the east. From his night-vision optics, Pathanya could see the two mud huts directly in front of him. These were silhouetted black against the flashes of white from the rifle fire that Muzammil’s men were firing south of the road just beyond the huts. Save for Kamidalla, whose sole job was to keep his eyes glued on Muzammil, the remaining eight pathfinders were keeping a solid base of fire on the dozen Toyotas and larger five-tonner trucks which made up Muzammil’s command convoy.

              It was a basic “whack-the-bush” strategy designed to channel a surprised and scared enemy in a direction productive to the attackers. Kamidalla being the crack shot on the team had delivered that initial shock which had the desired effect on Muzammil. The main Pathfinder force was now directing accurate rifle-fire against the jihadists on the road, south of the mud huts…

              “Panther, this is pathfinder-one,” Pathanya spoke into his comms mouthpiece as he stepped over the rocks on a shallow, icy fjord. He saw the two other pathfinders a dozen meters away.

              “Panther reads you five-by-five.” Jagat responded as calmly as though running a peacetime exercise.

              “Panther, pathfinder is
in
play and
under
fire. We have eyes on target in the convoy behind lead vehicle. Do not touch that area. Light up the other vehicles!”

              “Roger. Panther is detaching leopard to play
merry hell!
”

              Pathanya tightened his rifle into his shoulder closer and switched comms: “Pathfinder-one here: watch your backs and make sure the infrared strobes are active. Leopard is entering the fight!”

              Their first inkling of Dutt’s helicopters entering the battle was when three fireballs rose into the sky and sent three trucks at the back end of the convoy on fire. Pathanya instantly kneeled as the orange-yellow flames of the convoy rendered a hellish glow on the valley. More unguided rockets struck the road soon after. Pathanya heard the rumble of the helicopters as they streaked overhead. Tracers raced after the fast-moving helicopters as survivors of Muzammil’s security force struggled to meet this new and sudden threat above them.

It was a nightmarish sight to behold even for battle-hardened soldiers such as Pathanya. For someone like Muzammil, more used to ordering people to their deaths in battle rather than enduring the same, it was just too much.

              “Rooster is
moving!
Making a run for it!” Kamidalla’s urgent voice came through in Pathanya’s ears. He was almost about to ask for directions but Kamidalla beat him to the punch: “Northwest! Northwest! Northwest!
Go! Go! Go!
”

              Pathanya jerked his head to the see the silhouette of a man run past the orange-black glow of the flames near the two mud huts and into the woods. He immediately got up and splashed past the fjord as fast as he could, breaking branches and slipping over the icy stones along the way. He made quick progress on his evasive enemy. Kamidalla’s voice chimed in again: “Target moving
west
now! Heading to you!”  

              Pathanya saw the confused Muzammil run towards him, not knowing that he was being pursued. He finally saw Pathanya and his two men a dozen meters away and stood in shock. Pathanya saw him raise his AK-47 just in time to hit the dirt: “
Down!
”

              Muzammil let the three men have it at full blast, firing the ready AK-47 from the hip. The bullets went on a wide arc trajectories and slapped into trees and branches all around Pathanya and his men, showering them with broken branches and snow. But the frenzied burst of fire and the rough terrain meant that Muzammil count attain no accuracy. In a few seconds his rifle clicked on empty chambers. He looked at the rifle in surprise and instead of reloading, threw it on the snow and began running further up the slope.

              Pathanya got up on his feet and ran after Muzammil. He had noticed that he was alone as one of his two pathfinders had taken a bullet in his leg and was down where he lay. The other team member was no-where to be seen…

              You are not getting away, you bastard!

              Pathanya ran up the hill, sweating as he did so. He heard the whiz of bullets flying past his head and crouched behind a tree trunk to see another of Muzammil’s men clambering up the hill in his salwar-kameez, firing a G3 rifle as he struggled through the snow.

              Your boss isn’t expendable. But
you
are!  

              He brought up his
MCIWS
rifle to shoulder level and fired a three-round burst. The bearded jihadi fell face down into the snow with his hands stretched and his back pooling with blood.

              “You are going to
miss
our man! Forget these guys! Go! Go!” Kamidalla’s voice shouted in Pathanya’s ears.

              Pathanya let out a breath and forced himself up to see Muzammil further up the slope. It was clear to Pathanya that the man was not nearly in the kind of fitness required to outrun the Indian special-forces soldiers on a slippery mountain slope. He made quick progress on him until he was almost behind the man. Muzammil knew what was in store and tried to turn, but slipped in the process. As he lay on his back, he saw the Pathanya’s sweating face walk up to him.

By now Muzammil was not worthy of Pathanya’s honor. Pathanya pointed the barrel of his rifle to the man’s temple: “You son of a bitch! Do you
know
how many people are
dead
because of you?
Do you?
”

Muzammil realized he was going to be taken alive. This allowed him to recover some of his composure. “Not
enough!
We will kill you
all
before this war is complete, as Allah is my witness!”

Pathanya growled, reversed his rifle and let Muzammil have it in the chest with his rifle butt. Muzammil shrieked like he had been gutted and splattered blood from his mouth on to the snow.

“Pathfinder, this is panther!” The comms squawked in Pathanya’s ears. “
Do
you have the package or
not?
”

He took a few seconds to catch his breath. He turned to see his other team member helping the third man limp over to his position. To the south, he could see the raging fires from the truck convoy and the Dutt’s attack helicopters streaking through the valley, looking for targets…

“
Roger!
” He said, still huffing and puffing. “Package
is
secure and alive! I say again, package is secure! Panther, get us
out
of here!” He kneeled to help him gather his breathing.

Jagat changed comms at his end: “Panther to leopard: you heard the man. We don’t need you holding back anymore. Kill
any
and
all
bastards still alive!

Pathanya heard Dutt’s crews respond by firing salvos of unguided, fin-stabilized rockets into all of the remaining trucks on the road. Most of the vehicles burst to pieces under the impacts, sending shards flying in all directions…

“Pathfinder, get your men and establish perimeter!  We are coming to get you! Out.”

J
agat turned to see the trees and saw the loadmasters of his three Dhruv helicopters running back to their individual helicopters. He turned to his co-pilot and nodded. Moments later the three helicopters were spooling up their main rotors. Jagat turned to the back to see is loadmaster clambering aboard after stowing his rifle.

“All clear out there?” Jagat asked sarcastically.

“All clear, sir. No enemy to be seen.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Jagat turned back to his controls and lowered his helmet night-optics and locked it into position. The hellish green-scape replaced his bluish-black moonlit view of the Himalayas. He looked around the control panel and then tightened his grip on the controls. He keyed his comms.