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These men had battled many times.

Each also wore a chemical suit. An off white in color, they were bulky, worn over their clothing, and extremely unhelpful in camouflaging them. Luckily, concealment wouldn’t be necessary on this mission. The men’s heads were covered, masks across their faces, goggles protecting their eyes. When they breathed in and out, the canisters made a strange hissing sound.

Many felt constricted, claustrophobic inside the suits and masks.

So the men rode in silence, preparing their minds, their souls, as good warriors do.

“They know we’re here now,” Captain Drago stated into his mic. The five other members of the flight crews heard his voice, as did the men riding behind. Drago’s voice was cold, emotions not an option at this point, only the facts.

4

Over they went, the helicopters seeming to hover at the top of the ridge as if hesitant, floating high, overlooking the valley below.

Moments passed, a cryptic stillness of all life.

Then ever so gradually, the noses came down, engines beginning to whine once more.

Drago eased the throttle forward for his downward descent. He pushed the stick, nose down, beginning to approach toward the valley floor.

They were inside the valley, racing down the other side of the mountain.

Closer and closer.

Faster and faster.

“Altitude?” Drago asked Suvorov.

“Two hundred meters above the landscape, Comrade Captain,” Suvorov reported. “Weapons are armed and hot. Just awaiting the target, Comrade Captain.”

Drago then spoke into his mic, requesting target confirmation from his superiors.

There was no response from base.

Ignoring it for the moment, Drago responded to Suvorov, saying, “Copy that, weapons armed.”

“Comrade Captain?”

“Say it, Suvorov.”

“We have no target, Captain.”

“I know.”

“Is it that village ahead?” Suvorov asked.

Indeed, smack in the middle of the valley was a lone village. Quite large in size, it undoubtedly housed many Mujahideen.

“I won’t know until confirmation. Just remain calm.”

“Comrade Captain, this mission makes no sense,” Suvorov noted. He had contemplated it the entire ride, choosing to keep his mouth shut until now. As they flew into the valley of death, deep in the heart of Khost, Suvorov wished to express his thoughts, even if it were to simply voice them. “I’ve heard of crews on missions such as this,” he began.

“Oh?”

“Yes, Comrade. Lots of helicopters going down lately.”

“That’s the word.”

“Thing is, Comrade Captain, we are near the end of our tour. We don’t have much time,” Suvorov said, hoping the Captain would take the hint.

He didn’t.

“Say what you mean,” Drago said. “Do it quick, too.”

“Sir, those that follow through are the ones who get taken down. I just heard… I heard that some flight crews just dump their ordinance early. You know, not take too many chances? I’m not sure if it’s true or not, but I’ve heard stories,” Suvorov said.

“We will do no such thing,” Captain Drago scolded. “Pilots like that deserve to be shot. We’ll never win this war by fearing these bastards. We’ll do this right, and on the first run, so we don’t have to do a second. That is how you get shot down, Suvorov. It’s when you have to go back. We won’t be doing that today. We shoot, hit our target, and drink vodka before nightfall. And in a few months, maybe we’ll go home to our families,” he said, hopeful.

“Yes, Comrade Captain. Forgive my words, I didn’t mean them,” Suvorov said, ashamed.

“Sure you did. But I understand, this mission is strange. Nothing right about it.”

“Comrade Captain, we have no weapons!” Suvorov declared loudly. There, it was finally said. At last, the obvious dilemma at hand was stated, and though it was a touchy subject, the fact that the giant helicopter was unarmed was unnerving.

Suvorov continued, saying, “We’re loaded with only one rocket. One per gunship, Comrade Captain! In all my time here, I’ve never heard of such a thing. What’s the point? Shit, they didn’t even load our frontal guns.”

“I know, Suvorov,” Drago replied. “Trust me, I argued with the operations commander about it for an hour. We should be loaded up heavy. This bird is meant for killing.”

“Nowhere near max weight, either,” Suvorov said, agreeing. “No weapons? Nothing? Comrade Captain, what happens if we’re fired upon?”

“We hope I’m quick and they miss.”

“But what did they say? Why did they say we were to only carry one?”

“Orders,” Drago replied firmly. “They never said, and you know what? They don’t have to. I stopped asking once they threatened a downward turn in my so far flawless career. Yours too.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Tell me about it. But, I prefer not to piss off our superiors. Especially since this war isn’t going as planned. Especially here, in Khost.”

“Hence why we should be armed.”

“Well, Suvorov, we’re not. We carry one missile each, and only one. That’s the way it is. Now, perhaps we should focus. We’re approaching the village.”

“Yes, Comrade Captain. It’s just…”

“What, Suvorov?” the Captain asked, annoyed.

“The men in the back, the ones we carry? They’re not regular infantry. I saw their patches, they’re Spetsnaz.”

“Figured so,” Drago replied.

“And they’re loaded to the hilt. Shit, haven’t seen men that armed in awhile. And yet for some fucking reason, we’re carrying next to nothing.”

Drago was growing annoyed, for this was out of character for Suvorov. Though he supposed the man had a legitimate concern, one they all carried with them. He finally spoke, saying, “Suvorov, you’re asking the wrong question. It’s not why are we only carrying one missile, but what’s inside the missile we’re carrying?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t even consider—” Suvorov halted his words, looking back to the control panel, blinking his eyes, watching the instruments closely.

“We’re close, Comrade Captain,” Suvorov stated. “We’ll level in five, four, three, two… now level, Comrade Captain.”

“Level and approaching,” Drago said.

“Approaching what, Comrade? Do we have our target?” he asked anxiously.

“No,” Drago replied. “But we’re about to cross over the village.”

There was a hint of fear in the man’s voice.

Even though he’d said it, expressed his true feelings, Suvorov didn’t feel any better about the matter. He could have gone on and on, could have perhaps urged the Captain harder, could have been more persuasive. But that wouldn’t have been wise. Captain Drago took his work seriously, and Suvorov felt the man was perhaps the best pilot in the Soviet military. No way would Drago disobey orders.

Thing is, they should be armed. It pestered Suvorov, whose heart-rate climbed as they raced on, finally leveling off, the ground below them flat. They slowed down, Drago pulling the throttles back. The three Mi-24s were headed straight into a hot zone without ordinance, and they needed a minute or two to assess the situation. It was a grave one, and would have made for a good joke if it weren’t true. And even though the Captain had expressed his own feelings to his superiors, that didn’t stop the man from doing his duty.

“We’re approaching the village, Comrade Captain. We’re low, too.”