«Yes, you do!» a discordant chorus echoed in the large hangar. Sergeyev noticed that none of them said «Right you are. The guys were tense.
«Okay, go ahead. When were back, we will all continue to use these new names before returning to main base in Latakia. Theres no need to blow our cover. The TV-jokers shouldnt know your real names either. I hope it is clear. Now is the most difficult thing what should we do, if we get stuck in there. Things happen. These radio-sets will be enough for five hours, no longer, so keep your distance, stay in sight, dont go farther than a hundred paces. After five hours well have to go, even if we do not find the pilot. And the last option is just a contingency.»
«Force majeure or a hell of a mess, so to speak», added Captain Nechyporenko but nobody smiled.
«You may say so,» agreed Sergeyev. So, if we are there without helicopters and any support, the third option comes into effect well have to return to the city on our own. Its around a hundred kilometers. So, itll take a couple of nights to get here. Thats all. Any questions?»
The soldiers stared blankly at their magazines trying to insert cartridges with disobedient fingers.
«I have a question,» asked the captain. «Are they gonna feed us before departure or shall we arrange barbecue upon arrival over there?»
«Keep calm, dont show off! Its not the right time for jokes,» sighed Sergeyev. «Theyll feed us before departure. There will be no food at the site.»
«Of course, there wont,» grinned Nechyporenko. He couldnt help joking.
«If someone refuses to go, I wont compel them to. Youll just wait for the others coming back here. Remember, if you have questions or other issues, Im always here. Ask me at any time.»
No one refused; there were no more questions. Before boarding they only managed to collect all the ammunition and eat Syrian combat rations because a sort of soup made in a big kitchen truck looked suspicious. Sergeyev did not want to take risks and eat the local hodgepodge fearing for their stomachs. So far everything went according to the plan and no one was worried. He had to just go to the helicopters and talk to the pilots. He formed that good habit of double-checking the equipment after two failed flights in Yemen. After he miraculously survived, Sergeyev started talking to the pilots and listening to the noise of the engine, as if it was a living organism, every time before boarding trying to catch the slightest strange or unusual sounds in its work. This time, everything was alright. Pilots as usual relied on the power of their god and repeated «in shaa alla» «with Allahs help» after which he amused them by saying: «Kullutamam fi ilamam, kullu hara min alvar» «all good things to come, all bad things have gone». Then he banged his palm on the metal board keeping his fingers crossed and went for the captain and his soldiers.
Chapter 8
When three points appeared in the sky high above the hill, Harry nearly cried. Several hours had passed and he badly wanted to relieve his bladder. But fear did not let him do that. He saw paratroopers jumping one by one from the planes and heard the terrorists get to their feet at the bottom and begin to shout loudly. They did not shoot from MANPADS but were terribly excited and even fired a few short bursts at the jets in the sky. After some time, their voices started moving away from the rock and Harry decided to raise his head an inch to assess the situation. When his eyes were at the first crack, in front of him opened an incredible picture: almost all the terrorists left the scene of the crash site and headed towards his parachute. They finally saw white cloth and it apparently made a great impression on them. At least, Harry saw them waving their arms and twitching silk and cords. But they were acting weirdly, as if they were not going to fight with the paratroopers. Raising his eyes up, Harry saw that there were big boxes instead of rescue team. It was a pallet drop intending to divert fighters attention from him. At this point, the last few people left the hill and walked briskly to the place where the parcels were about to land.
Harry unzipped his suit with trembling hands and rolled to one side so as to direct the stream downwards, between the stones. With every second, he felt easier, tears welled up in his eyes and involuntarily started flowing down his face.
«Carol, dear, if you could see me now, its unlikey youd be that happy,» he said in his heart to his lover calling it the second letter from hell. «I never knew that the worst torture was to endure a full bladder. Yes, it sounds silly but its an incredible pain, I sweated, suffered, gritted my teeth and almost fainted. I was constantly sick. It was terrible. I suffered to make sure those barbarians didnt notice a trickle of urine on the surface of the rock! You wont believe it, but its true. I really want to survive. It sounds strange, I know. So stupid and simple. I want to come back to you and stay with you forever, I want to forget this horror and never recollect it. My words might sound disgusting, I know. But I feel incredibly easy. Theyve run away and Ive just emptied all of my fuel tank where they were sitting just a couple minutes ago. Our troops dropped boxes by parachutes, but I do not know why. If there is my salvation in them, it is stupid. I cant even get close to them. They only diverted the bandits attention from the hill» Here the letter was suddenly interrupted because his trained brain got a random tip and immediately made a decision: diverting attention, enabling to help, encouraging to act. While Harry was hiding the pistol, his head looked the other way. The sun had to go down to the horizon soon and then darkness would come. Three airplanes continued to hang over him in the sky, as if they were waiting for a signal. They were obviously looking for him! They needed him to give a sign. But how? A shot towards the sky? His brain was frantically looking for a solution, but he had neither a rocket launcher nor a spare tracker, unfortunately.
At this time, there was the noise of an engine on the other side of the hill. Harry crawled to the edge and looked down. He could see the familiar silhouettes of Toyota pickups down there. Damn, the decision was so easy! Go by car!
He could not remember how he climbed down from the cliff and began to move down the slope hiding behind the rocks. It was far from running or even jogging, it was more a frightened turtle race that he called this rescue leap. The nearest pickup was no more than twenty meters walk away from him when three men appeared. By bad fortune they came up to the hood and began to discuss something whilst glancing at the sky. The planes were still up there. So, he was sure the pilots were waiting for his signal. Harry felt nervous. He could wait for a short while, but not very long. Worst of all was the fact that he had no concept of time. Seconds seemed to him hours, and this felt like panic. In this situation, he could take only one decision take advantage surprise the enemy and attack first.
He bent and unbent his fingers they were moving freely as if it was just an exercise. His arms and legs were not trembling. Breathing was calm. His thumb slowly unlocked the trigger lock and he fed a cartridge into the chamber. The only thing left for him to do now was to stand up and do what he had to do.
Harry quietly crawled around the stone, stood up, stretched out his arm forward, and took the first step. Through narrowed eyes, he saw the muzzle-sight overlapping the first target and pulled the trigger. Recoil habitually pushed his hand and went into his shoulder. A second bullet followed the first one and the third found the second victim in mid-stride from the fallen first. At this point, the signal from the eye went to his brain and Harry realized that he could see only two bodies. The third was not there! On the move by inertia he put two more bullets into the second terrorist, later thinking that it was unnecessary. He had to conserve ammo. Squatting by the bumper he quickly examined the dead and then looked out of the hood. The third bandit turned out to be smart. He had seemingly departed in one of the cars. When he heard the shots, he did not want to risk his life, so quickly jumped into the truck and hit the gas. Harry had nothing to do but follow him with his eyes: a cloud of dust was rapidly moving along the hill, heading most likely to the place where he could drive around it and be on the other side. The terrorist was in a hurry to flee the rest of the group. Staying here and signaling the jets was dangerous. Harry looked up and saw that the jets disappeared. This wasnt good news. He had to leave. Later, somewhere on the plain, he could stop and draw a word with wheels in the sand but then he had to hurry.