“Smoke deployed, angel-one.” Kamidalla said into the speaker. “Confirm you have visual? Over.”
There was no reply for several seconds. Kamidalla wondered if the mist and fog were interfering with the pilot’s visibility near the ground. Finally the radio squawked: “I see it, pathfinder. We are banking around and will make a drop over the smoke. Prepare for recovery. Over.”
Kamidalla put his hands over the speaker as they waited patiently for the C-130J crew to bring the aircraft around. Big as that aircraft was, a turn like that took time. Kamidalla’s heart pounded away as the seconds ticked. He hoped that there wouldn’t be some straggler Pak army unit with anti-air capability within reach of the lumbering Indian aircraft…
The C-130J flew straight and level over the hills to the north and then came in murderously low with its cargo-doors open. As it pulled up above the smoke marker, several pallets of cargo fell clear from the ramp. Parachutes blossomed behind the pallets to slow them down as they struck the field and slid for several dozen meters. The C-130J pulled up into a steep climb into the blue skies, dropping dozens of flares.
“Good drop, angel-one!” Kamidalla replied.
The response was magnanimous in its tone: “pleasure doing business with you, pathfinders! Angel-one, out.” The link chimed off and was replaced with static.
Kamidalla handed the speaker back to the radioman and saw the C-130J in the distance as it continued to climb, heading southeast into the puffy white clouds. He waved the pathfinders forward just as helicopter noises filled the air. He turned to see the four LCHs and one Dhruv heading towards them. They reached the fuel pallets just the first LCH flared for a landing, followed by another. The other two helicopters remained in the air on over-watch. Jagat’s Dhruv came to a hover a few meters away from the nearest fuel pallet that Kamidalla was running to. He got on one knee as the helicopter flared and landed, whipping grass and dirt in all directions. He saw Pathanya and Vikram running over along with the crew-chief. The latter was already directing others to help with the refueling.
“You got him?” Kamidalla asked as Pathanya patted him on the shoulder. The smile on Pathanya’s face gave Kamidalla the answer he was looking for.
“Good.” Kamidalla noted. “So now we can get the hell out of this godforsaken country!”
“Indeed!” Pathanya replied. “Come on!” He motioned as they ran to help move the fueling lines to one of the landed gunships.
A half hour later, the four helicopters on the ground lifted into the air and joined the other two on over-watch before all six helicopters made their way back to India.
52
Kulkarni watched as the engineers towed his tank away behind an armored-recovery-vehicle. He had wanted to drive it over as it was, but they couldn’t take the risk of it breaking down on the road, clogging up the entire convoy. He sighed and then walked over to the utility truck on the side of the road. The driver was waiting for him with the engine on idle. Before he got in, Kulkarni looked back and saw the other dozen Arjun tanks moving into a convoy along the road. Their crews were sitting with open hatches. The commander of the lead tank behind him stepped up above his hatch holding an Indian flag that he then tied to the comms antennae. Kulkarni smiled at the gesture and then got into his seat in the truck.
“Ready to go, sir?” The driver asked.
Kulkarni nodded. “Yes. Take us home.”
The truck pulled out in front and the remaining convoy of tanks started moving behind them as rhino and trishul returned to the Indian border along with the rest of the Indian army units in the desert.…
The sun had set and the skies above were a deep red with shades of black. The increasing darkness was beginning to hinder the search. The soldiers had already begun to use flashlights and the lights from their vehicles to assist them in combing through the charred remains of the convoy and the houses nearby. They had been collecting bodies from the location for the last twenty minutes.
As they gave up hope to find any survivors here, one of the soldiers walked around the debris of the house and heard what could only be muffled moans of a man buried alive under the rubble. The soldier shouted to others and frantically began to start moving pieces of concrete and wood away. As others joined in, the pace of clearing up increased until they could clearly hear the voices of a man speaking in Urdu. After about a minute, they got together and pulled Akram out. He was heavily bruised and covered in dirt. But the uniform of a Pak army officer was clear to the soldiers. They put him on a stretcher and took him to the truck waiting near the road. The medics took one look at him and knew that he had to be taken to a field-hospital immediately. His life hung in the balance by a thread…
EPILOGUE
The doors to the room opened and Haider looked up from his seat behind the plain desk. He saw some faces he had now gotten used to seeing daily. He also saw one face that he had not seen in person. But he knew who this new person was.
“I believe you know who I am?” Ravoof asked as he took the seat opposite from Haider. Colonel Ansari continued to stand behind Ravoof, but crossed his arms. Haider leaned back in his chair and tried to cross his arms, but was prevented from doing so by the shackles holding him down.
“Dr. Ravoof,” Haider said calmly. “A pleasure to meet you, even under these circumstances. I would shake your hand, but,” he pulled his arms up to show Ravoof his shackles. “What brings you to the little cell that Colonel Ansari here and his RAW colleagues have so generously arranged for me?”
Ravoof stared Haider in the eyes and showed no emotion. Here was the man responsible for one-hundred-fifteen million deaths in the Indian subcontinent. The vast majority of them civilians. And a good percentage of that number being Pakistani civilians. And yet this man continued to sit here calmly awaiting his impending trial as though it were an inevitable nuisance. Was it because he hoped to reach the land promised to those who waged jihad in the name of Allah? Or was it some level of psychopathy that a normal, rational man like Ravoof could never hope to understand?
“Why did you do it?” Ravoof said finally. “All these millions of dead people on both sides. Your nation destroyed to its very foundation. And for what?”
Haider’s smile disappeared. He looked Ravoof in the eyes: “because it was our job.”
“You job?” Ravoof shook his head in disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about? Murdering so many innocent people was your job? Your mandate?”
“Yes it was,” Haider added. “I had been tasked by my nation to bring yours to its knees. And while I admit the cost on our side proved to be a lot higher than what we bargained for in our planning, it did achieve its core objective. Your nation has been brought to its knees to a point now that the Chinese can just step in and finish the job.”
Ansari put his arms on the desk and leaned forward: “you lost your entire nation to try to achieve this objective! You failed, Haider. It is that simple.”
“I don’t see it that way at all.” Haider responded and then leaned back in his seat. “Let’s just agree to disagree.”
Ravoof got up from his seat.
“The psychologists are correct,” Ravoof said to Ansari. “He is quite clearly a psychopath beyond redemption.” He then turned to Haider: “enjoy your trial.”