Ahmed slung an AK-47 over his shoulder, making sure it was chambered, safety off. He grabbed a handful of magazines, fully loaded with 7.62 x .39mm ammunition. He stuffed them in his pockets until they were quite full. Lastly, Ahmed grabbed an RPG. It was long, bulky, and he ensured it was loaded with a rocket, ready to bring down one of the war-birds, ready to bring Ahmed much honor.
He rushed back, staring at Fajii, his eyes flickering with growing hate and excitement.
“I have business with the Soviets,” Ahmed declared.
“You must wait for us,” Fajii protested.
“Hurry the men,” Ahmed said, ignoring the words. “They’ll circle the village a few times. Most likely, they think we’re there. I’ll catch one from behind. Now go, Fajii. Hurry the men.”
Fajii didn’t hesitate, breaking into a run as he traveled farther down into the catacomb of tunnels to alert everyone. They’d move quickly, many having family and friends in the nearby village, anxious to repel the invaders.
Ahmed turned, beginning his jog toward the sound outside. Though low, he could still hear them, hovering outside, no doubt seeking their whereabouts. Ahmed hoped he had enough time. If he could exit the cave quick enough, he might be able to surprise one. A tail-shot was preferred. Bringing down a Soviet helicopter was an act of honor to the Mujahideen, and would bring him great victory, great respect. It would also buy his men the time needed to gather their arms.
Ahmed raced toward the daylight at a full sprint.
12
The three Mi-24s were close. They slowed as they climbed the eastern rise, unsure as to what they were searching for, ever anxious of any threats.
“There,” Captain Drago stated, pointing, though nobody could see the gesture. “Ahead, do you see it?”
It took a moment before the other two pilots responded, “Yes, Comrade Captain.”
The entrance was wide, perhaps twenty meters, though it was well concealed. The rock formation in front gave it much needed camouflage, the terrain jagged, partially hidden by boulders and some small shrubs in front.
“What now?” Suvorov questioned.
The captain ignored him, though, instead flicking the switch, contacting his command. “Kilo Base, this is Alpha Firebird Red. Confirm target, over.”
“Alpha Firebird Red, this is Kilo Base. Do you see an entrance to a cave, over?”
“Directly in front of us, over,” Drago responded. The pause caused him to think perhaps they hadn’t heard. Just as Drago began to repeat his words, the voice finally responded.
“Alpha Firebird Red, this is Kilo Base. Do you see any resistance? Any men outside?”
“Negative. Not at the moment, over.”
“Copy that. You are to hover directly in front.”
“I am directly in front,” Drago shot back, annoyed.
“Copy, Alpha Firebird Red. Do you have a clear shot?”
Drago pulled the Mi-24’s nose down just a bit, tail up, rising in altitude another ten meters, the opening of the cave now fully visible.
“Target is clear to engage,” Drago replied.
“Copy, Alpha Firebird Red. You are to proceed exactly as directed… direct Alpha Firebird Green to acquire lock and fire. I repeat, only Green is to fire.”
“Copy, Kilo Base. Alpha Firebird Green engaging,” Drago replied. Then, he pushed the button, communicating to the helicopter to his left. “Green, this is Red. You heard it. Do you have a clear shot?”
“Affirmative, Comrade Captain,” the pilot answered.
“You must fire directly into the cave. Do not miss,” he commanded. “Fire when ready!”
Moments later and the Mi-24 to his left fired. A streak of exhaust swooshed past, bearing toward the cave’s entrance. Moments later the missile entered the darkness of the mouth.
“Ordinance fired, sir,” the pilot reported.
Drago spoke to base, relaying the engagement.
“Copy. Did it enter the cave?” base questioned.
“Affirmative,” Drago replied. “Kilo Base, be advised — we see no explosions or secondary explosion! I think perhaps it was a dud…” Drago stated, though somewhat thinking aloud. It was common for Soviet munitions to not always be in working order. With the lack of explosion, he assumed that was the case.
It wasn’t. The voice on the other end of the radio spoke, tension in the unseen man’s voice. “Do you see anything?” the voice asked.
“Copy, I see no explosion,” Drago restated, shaking his head.
“Report as ordered,” the voice boomed. “What do you see, Firebird Alpha Red?”
It took a moment, then Drago’s eyes widened. It was then he began to figure it out, the mystery of why they were there, why they carried hardly anything. “Kilo Base, this is Firebird Alpha Red. I see smoke… lots of smoke.”
“What color is the smoke?”
“Green,” Drago relayed. “The smoke is green.”
He knew it now, understood their purpose. There was nothing conventional about what they were doing. Drago gulped, his throat dry. He knew they had just fired a chemical down the tunnel, and the thought devastated him. He now understood why they carried only one missile each. He now understood their call-signs, for the smoke was the same as the Mi-24’s ‘name’. Then, Drago realized he had missed something. While arguing with his commander about the mission, the lack of armaments, he had seen something odd. The warheads on each missile were indeed different colors, again to match their call-signs.
Drago waited for what felt like an eternity. The green smoke billowed out, wafting in the sky, reaching up toward the heavens. Time seemed to slow before the static popped, and the silence broke again.
“Alpha Firebird Red, this is Kilo Base. Have your second gunship fire its ordinance. Repeat, Alpha Firebird Yellow is to fire.”
Drago gave the command.
Moments later the second Mi-24 fired as well. The hit was true, the rocket entering the darkness.
“Second missile entered,” Drago reported. He waited, still hovering outside the cave. He commanded the two helicopters to circle, to give him room and to watch the surroundings. It wouldn’t be much longer until they received fire from the village.
Moments later and Drago called base, adding to his report, saying, “Again, no explosion.”
Soon, he thought. Soon those fucking Muj will be crawling from the woodwork.
“Has the smoke changed color?” the voice asked.
“Copy, Kilo Base. It’s changing…”
“What’s the color, Alpha Firebird Red?”
“It’s now… the smoke is turning yellow.”
He watched, eyes wide, the cave spewing its contents. It was thick and heavy, swirling outside the entrance.
He knew what was next. His turn was coming, and he’d have to guess exactly where to fire his missile. He could hardly see the entrance to the cave, visibility steadily worsening as the smoke leaked out. This concerned Drago — he hoped he didn’t miss.
“Firebird Alpha Red, this is Kilo Base,” the voice began.
Drago knew what was coming next.
“You are to line up and fire your ordinance. Report the results at once.”
“Copy, Kilo Base.” Drago took in a deep breath. “You ready for this, Suvorov?” he asked his weapons specialist.
“I hope, Comrade Captain. I’m having problems getting a good lock. Your call…”
“Copy that…” Drago waited a moment, tense as ever, before pulling the trigger on his stick. “Weapons away!” he said.
His missile shrieked, its exhaust trail racing toward the entrance.
Perfect shot, the missile entered the cave.
“Our ordinance is fired, over,” Drago reported. He took a breath of relief. Thank God, it’s over, he thought. Perhaps we can go home now.