Voices came close to rock bottom and he heard suspicious noises. All thoughts of rescue and assistance of fearsome marines immediately vanished. In addition, the tracker was burned in the fire. Tension had reached its limit. In order not to make a fatal mistake, he had to relax and keep his hand away from the gun, or at least stop thinking about it because his thumb was constantly being drawn to the trigger lock. Harry decided to mentally turn to Carol. It was a short letter-prayer. He realized that he was thinking about stupid things but he did not have anything else. Love, promise to marry, an engagement ring, a luxury wedding he clenched his eyelids tightly and promised her everything begging her to wait for him because this request hid his hope of salvation.
A loud shot stunned him, interrupting the letter in mid-sentence. «Mortar, gun, grenade?» flashed in his head. After a few seconds, a vague white line appeared in the sky. They shot from down here! And they shot at the jets. But the missiles did not reach the goal the airplanes were flying too high. The noise of voices from below escalated into shouting. The men were obviously arguing. Soon the noise shifted to the black smoke that was still rising from the wreckage of his plane. It went quiet below. Harry dared to turn his head slightly and moved up to the edge. He could see only a small portion of the slope through the slit. A few figures were moving down it. After a little time, he grew bolder and raised his head.
People with guns were walking among the fragments and two were standing near the place where he threw his tracker into the fire. One had the device in his hands, and the other was trying to pull something out of the fiercely burning fire and smoke with a stick. It was impossible because of heat. They found the trackers position and were looking for his corpse. But there was still a parachute not far from there! He had no time to bury it. He had nothing to do but wait for militants further steps.
There was a sound of footsteps under his rock. Harry sat back and stood still. He had to hold out until sunset. And he desperately wanted to release his bladder. This problem became dangerous too. He remembered his father was put in a large diaper every morning in his nursing home and taken a walk. At this moment Harry would have given his right arm to have the same one here.
Chapter 6
«We arent sure that Hawking died,» the Colonel tilted his head towards his shoulder and carefully answered the Admirals silent question. I did the last briefing with him. He was in great shape. A really good mood. According to two reconnaissance aircrafts, his jet crashed here in the area to the south of Raqqa,» he pointed the crash site on the map. «His group reported that he had ejected. Reconnaissance aircrafts also confirmed that they saw a parachute on the ground. They were shot at with a single shot from a MANPAD too.»
«So the militants have received MANPADS from China eventually. Their Arabian sheikhs paid for them» the Admiral shook his head.
«Yes, Sir!»
«How did they shoot him down? You said the flight range of MANPADs missiles was 9,800 feet, no further!
«Yes, Sir!» the Colonel nodded. This data arrived from the Pentagon. However, their trajectory shows that they can fly up to 13,000 feet.
«Hawkings jet altitude was almost 16,000, right?»
«Yes, Sir! However, the shot was taken from the top of this hill here. They climbed up to the top and cut the distance for a shot. That is just 3,200 feet. Therefore, the missile was right on the edge of its range. The first shot went past the wing of the leader and the second one touched Hawkings.»
«God damn it!» the Admiral could not take a decision on the rescue of the pilot and this indecision irritated him more than Colonels formal report. «Did you find his tracker?»
«Yes, Sir! It is located right in the area of the crash. Its in the fire. There are about fifty terrorists round there, which is why, we may surmise that Hawking did it on purpose.»
«Hmm Its a strange decision. He would have been forced to do that, if he saw they had a device detecting our trackers. But this is impossible. Its the latest version.»
«Yes, Sir!» the Colonel paused and added: «But the Chinese MANPADS appeared unexpectedly as well.»
«Damn you!» the Admiral could not resist. «We cant land our people there. If we lose a single one, it will cause uproar in the Senate and heads will roll not just ours!»
«Yes, I know, Sir. The elections are coming and Republicans will not miss the opportunity»
«I knew you understood me!»
«Excuse me, Sir, I have one more thing.»
«Which one?» the Admiral felt that his subordinate had some idea.
«We could send a few storm troopers. They would drop empty boxes by parachute a little further than where Hawking landed. If terrorists approach them, our planes fire». This will distract them and enable Hawking to reveal his location in any way Yes, hell find a way. He will think of something. He has the technical means.»
«And if the terrorists do not approach? Or only half of them do? Or there is a second option: Hawking has gone in another direction? Or the third one: Hawking died. What then?»
«Then you have a clear conscience, Sir,» said the Colonel, quietly. «We cant do more than that.»
«Hmm How long do you need to prepare a new group?» asked the Admiral in quite a different voice. His previous doubt and uncertainty had left him.
«Two hours, Sir!» answered the Colonel, cheerfully, barely holding back a joyful smile.
«Do it!» sounded a short order and soon three crews began to prepare for an emergency flight.
Chapter 7
It was two oclock in the afternoon in Latakia. There was a heat wave in the streets and people were hiding in the shadows to escape the merciless sun. The Russian Commanders room was full of nervous tension. Several people in Russian and Syrian uniform got together to discuss joint plans for conducting an unusual operation. Syrian military men were communicating with their units surrounding Deir-ez-Zor. Simultaneously, General Zakharov was discussing the same things with lieutenant-colonel Sergeyev who was in the city too. Sergeyev was sitting in a small room five hundred miles away and glumly listening to instructions.
«Most importantly, remember the codes as agreed,» said General Zakharov at the end.»
«Yes, Comrade General,» confirmed Sergeyev by radio, leaning his forehead against his hand, and handed the headset to a Syrian officer. «Im passing you to local men» he finished tiredly and looked at the captain who was standing by his side. On the other side he heard Arabic speech. The local colonel spoke again with his commanders in Latakia. He often repeated «Naam» «yes» and nodded his head. Captain Nechyporenko stood still nearby with a question on his face.
«We should get guns,» Sergeyev said briefly and sternly. «Our mission has changed dramatically. Now they will agree and tell us how to interact in more detail,» he nodded toward the Syrian soldiers, who were sitting at the old antediluvian devices resembling encryption machines.
At the same time on the other side of Syria, on the shore of the Mediterranean, the Commander and General Zakharov again pondered all embodiments of the mission entrusted to them by the General Staff after a short message from «the chief». He asked for «help by any means» in order to rescue the downed American pilot. Both generals understood that the successful implementation of this mission would help him solve certain political goals. Just two days ago the Americans refused to organize a joint rescue group and yet, here it is! What a coincidence! Their pilot was shot down and there seemed to be no one to rescue him.