by Tony Criddle
“We can’t outrun them Fred. Show me how to use that fucking thing and get Laleh out of here. I’ll try to hit them when they move into this gully. The chopper’s got a mini-gun turret as well. I didn’t want Lil to know that.”
“How long have we got Nick?” “Three ravines before they get to ours. About twenty minutes mate.”
Amini looked wistfully towards the summit. “Laleh’s future is with you now Nick, not me. I know it was a joke, but when you first agreed to pick me up you said I’d owe you big time. I do mate, more than you’ll ever really know, and it’s time to pay up. I’ve used the launcher dozens of times. I’ll do this bit.” Nick started to object.
“Shut it Nick, we haven’t got time. If you move up the slope and show yourself briefly, they’ll latch onto you. But they’ll have to land to follow up and that plateau is the only place they can do it.” He pointed at a jumble of boulders to their left.
“I’ll hide in there and hit them when they hover.” He dismounted and unstrapped the cannon.
“Take my horse, and put on a good show, but remember that bloody mini-gun. No arguments Nick – get going.”
Amini meant it, it was in his eyes, he wouldn’t hear any more arguments. Nick grabbed the reins, and turned back up the slope. About a hundred metres ahead he herded the others into a large crevice between huge rough boulders and explained what had to be done. Laleh looked worried as she translated for the Kurd. She lifted the Tikka from the scabbard before Gizko pushed their mounts deeper into the large crevice. Nick squeezed back to the entrance.
He could see most of the sharp, dark rocks that Farhad had indicated although nothing of the Iranian himself. He had to step further onto the path to get a good view of the clearing and approach, and by then he could hear the throb of the machine.
The big helicopter tracked fairly slowly along the river, but needed a fist-full of power to reach the ridge.
“The crest is the border, but that’s all that marks it up here Mister Arak. I’m turning now, and I’ll need to keep the speed up to do it. Air speed and ground speed are different things, and I don’t intend running out of power and crashing. Colder, dense air tumbles down from the mountain tops up here so we’ll have to come at each ravine from below. You understand that?”
Arak nodded before muttering a yes. The Sea Stallion pilot kept his air speed constant as he pulled away from the border, and the cop saw what he meant. The air speed indicator stayed flickering on sixty, but the machine accelerated rapidly over the ground with the katabatic wind coming from behind. He pulled around in a large loop and attacked the next canyon. Half way up they got beeps and sausages on the screen again and Arak leaned excitedly towards the monitor.
“Wild goats” the pilot grunted, pointing ahead. The next canyon was the same, with probably the same scattering herd providing the beeps. They lined up on the next ravine.
When they were still two kilometres from it the unit lit up once more. Arak looked ahead with significantly less enthusiasm but this time it was different. He picked up a figure on the path made small by distance and obscured by thick clothes and a woollen hat. Then unexpectedly another.
“That must be them Captain. Can you drop us then cut them off from above?”
“I can get ahead of them, yes. I’ll drop you on that plateau ahead, and move a mile up the slope. I can turn down wind if I can hover, and put the gun on them. We’ll be like a vice, and I’ll try not to shoot you.” He smiled as he let his crewman know what he was doing, and rushed through his checks before lifting the nose.
Nick knew the big chopper had picked him up, but when he turned back he almost knocked Laleh over. He gathered her in his arms and wrestled them both behind the rocks.
“What the hell are you doing?” There was concern and anger in it.
“Making sure they concentrate on us.” She wasn’t grinning but she wasn’t contrite either. He shook his head.
“Well, I’ll give them one more look and don’t you dare follow me. It’ll be very short.” She smiled then and pecked him. It was tense and very dangerous and he couldn’t believe she’d done that. Nick showed himself briefly again as the RH 52D came into a hover, but as he dodged back towards the rocks he heard three vicious cracks from the 7.62 millimetre. It was instinctive, he stopped and looked.
Farhad had stood to take his shots, and even from up there the Welshman could see the windscreen starred by three crazed epicentres in front of the pilot. Immediately after he realised that the windscreen must be armoured. The shots hadn’t penetrated and Amini realised it too. The heavy crash of the grenade launcher was followed almost immediately by the rip of the mini-gun.
Amini dropped at the same time as a ball of fire and smoke erupted around the forward right wheel of the machine. The chopper wobbled dangerously sideways and nearly hit the deck. But not quite. It staggered within feet of the grass, then struggled upwards again, a desperate pilot fighting to get it back under control. Nick raced for Amini and his cannon, but was still fifty metres away when he realised that he wasn’t going to make it.
The RH 52D had staggered well left during its recovery, but now it was responding and stabilised in a low hover. The right front wheel and oleo dangled uselessly, and a splash of blackened soot smeared the aircraft’s chin, but that was all. He could clearly see the wolfish grin on the pilot’s face through the opened side window. There were distorted, swarthy faces alongside him, and several vaguer figures piled behind that. It all registered in a split second before the mini turret started swivelling smoothly towards him. He dived for a small rock pile just ahead but knew instantly that it wouldn’t do much good.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Nick had pushed Laleh deep into the rocky crevice ahead of him and it was several seconds before she reacted herself. He was already fifty metres ahead of her when she took it all in. Then she gasped. The chopper was damaged but still airborne and its pilot was looking at him intently. Nick skidded to a halt. She could see he wasn’t going to make it either.
Everything seemed to slow down for her too. Her brother was sprawled several metres in front of Nick, exposed but not moving, and the chin turret was swivelling. Instinctively she knew what it must be. Farhad was down and her man was about to be perforated, but they hadn’t seen her. She didn’t hesitate.
The big helo had staggered drunkenly to her right while Laleh was on the higher track surrounded by boulders, and she and Nick often flew with their side windows open. This pilot did too.
A starred, but intact, windscreen told her that bullets couldn’t penetrate it but she could see the pilot’s upper body clearly. Laleh rested her left hand, reasoning that a rock wouldn’t vibrate.
And it was some sort of omen. The thought triggered a subconscious vision of a weather-beaten face that always seemed to be smiling at her, always seemed to be encouraging her. ‘Take a breath and hold it.’ She did. ‘Pick your spot on the target.’ The pilot’s white helmet stood out through the opened side window against the darker surrounds inside. ‘Squeeze, don’t jerk the trigger.’ She did that too.
Laleh had no idea how far the mini-gun had traversed, but it hadn’t got around to firing before she did. After that she would never know. It wasn’t a long or even a difficult shot, just over seventy metres, but even with the powerful scope she didn’t see where the tiny bullet hit. Its effect she couldn’t miss.
The pilot’s head flew to the left as if bludgeoned with a sledge hammer and his right hand was grasped firmly around the cyclic. It all became inevitable. The clenched hand followed the rest of the upper body and the machine was less than ten feet above the ground. The helicopter rolled heavily to the left, and the huge rotor blades churned viciously into the dirt in a fractured, deadly sequence.
Earth, grass, rocks and disembodied metallic parts sprayed skywards initially, but now the tail rotor was pumping out far more aerodynamic force than the mangled, slowing main blades could ever demand. It swung rapidly upwards, dragging the tail of the mac
hine with it, paused for a micro-second, then the nose plunged the last few metres into the turf. A huge red and yellow fireball that reached over forty metres high followed the crash, and thick black smoke obscured the flames within seconds. A low pitched rumble echoed up and down the canyon for longer than that. She was awed by what she’d done but there wasn’t time for it.
Laleh chambered a round as she raced towards Nick, reaching him as he struggled to sit up. The rocks and his higher elevation had protected him from the blast, so he wasn’t injured, but he was dazed and temporarily deafened. When he did focus her face was inches from his.
“Shit!” That’s all he could say initially, but the tension eased. That was his response to most dramas. He shook himself and grabbed her. “I don’t think I’ve ever said it before Laleh, but Jesus I love you woman.” He hugged her heatedly. It was something she’d always wanted to hear despite the circumstances. She smiled as she dragged her gaze to her brother, but he still hadn’t moved. Her hand leapt to her mouth and the tears sprinkled.
Nick followed her stare and dragged them both to their feet. He left the Tikka with Laleh, she could use it far more effectively than he could right then, and instead grasped her hand. And although they were still yards from Farhad he realised it would be useless.
Nick turned towards Laleh, intending to stop her, but she resisted fiercely even though tears now washed her cheeks. He crouched beside Amini and rolled him over. There was no carotid pulse and when he saw the three big holes in the torso he knew why. Another round had hit the cannon in the breech and the whole of Amini’s upper torso was saturated with a red, sticky gore from shrapnel tears as well. Nick looked up and shook his head as Laleh’s sobs almost choked her.
Nick held her close while she got through the initial grief and slowly the sobs reduced to sniffles. He wasn’t stupid. He knew more would follow when they were somewhere safer, but knew this had to be done first. Then she surprised him yet again. Her eyes were still brimming but she quickly refocused.
“Help me put Farhad’s body into the rocks Nick. He’d want that, but we must get out of here right away. Someone probably saw that fire.” He nodded solemnly not sure if he could be that strong himself.
They didn’t have to lift the body far and the rocks to cover him were right there with him. Laleh was the first to start and after they’d finished Nick pulled her to him again. “I’m so sorry it’s all happened this close to the border Lil. Both of them gone in less than twenty-four hours.” He was close to tears himself and missed what she mumbled with her head buried in his chest. He raised it gently and Laleh started again.
“I loved Farhad dearly Nick, but you must understand why I’m saying this.” She demurred.
“Subconsciously he might have wanted it to happen. Some time ago he asked me what an Iranian naval commander could do in the real world with no papers and little more than patrol boat experience. I think it was why he hoped it would work out for us.”
“He was being pessimistic though Lil. Dartmouth would still have records to prove he was qualified, and he did an overseas staff course as well. We could have sorted something out.”
“There’s something else though, isn’t there. You men in the West may do brave things in battles, maybe even die, but it’s usually when you’re trying to save yourselves or especially your friends. In the East it’s a bit different and always has been. A lot of eastern men treat their women like crap, almost like slaves; yet go overboard to achieve a glorious, honourable death. But it’s all in the mind really, there’s nothing glorious about dying.”
“I suppose you’re right Lil. I’ve never really thought about it much. I do know I’ve lost a few mates over the years though but I can’t think of anyone who wanted it to happen.”
“That’s what I mean, and this is the sociologist in me talking. Dying when you’re doing something heroic for others is one thing. That’s selfless. But dying so your mates can call it glorious is selfish. It’s more about you and your ego. I’ll weep some more for Farhad yet, but not for all that long. It was in his genes to seek a glorious death, but just like Jock’s it was a completely selfless act that caused it in the end. Both of their deaths were noble, they died for us, and that’s what I’ll always remember.” She shook herself. “Let’s look at this helicopter before we go.” She led off down the slope still sniffling and Nick followed. He could think of nothing to say.
The RH 52D hadn’t burned much, it was the unused fuel that had caused the huge fire ball and pillar of smoke. The fire and crash had destroyed the cockpit, but the rear was less affected, looking more like a scorched cylindrical cavern. It was the enormous and rapid depletion of oxygen that had got them, and in many ways he was glad they’d died quickly. Fire is always at the back of an aviator’s mind. He stretched to look into what had been the cockpit window.
Crisp, blackened corpses melted into the plastic and upholstery around them, and the scorched extremities were little more than blackened, shrunken bone.
Laleh was poking around the ramp at the rear at the same time and Nick heard her exclaim loudly. He rushed around to where she was peering at an almost unburnt body thrown clear of the ramp. The left leg and neck were at weird, unnatural angles and the face was smeared with blood, but it was easily recognisable. She turned into him. She couldn’t speak initially.
“That bastard was the one who knocked me around at the embassy Nick. I’ll never forget his face.” She was still gasping.
Nick brought a gentle hand to the back of her head, and pulled her closer. “That’s all you need to know then Lil. It’s gone in a circle. You’re pretty much free of it all now.”
“If he was here the other one might be too. I’ve got to look.”
Nick didn’t want her in there. It didn’t look nice and it didn’t smell nice either.
“It’s probably not safe, and there’s nothing to see love. It’s over. Let’s be on our way.”
“I must do this. Please come with me?” He couldn’t deny her this final quest.
“Okay, but you hang on to me and watch where you walk. You’ll see lines of rivets in the deck that have got spars underneath. I’ll be walking on them and make sure you do too.” Laleh nodded. He led off holding her hand and peered below and above them as she slowly followed. The smell wasn’t just unpleasant it was appalling once they were enclosed.
Just inside the ramp there was another half burned body. Nick stopped so she could peer at it. She shook her head. He kept moving, and when he neared the cockpit he pinched his nostrils and so did she. They were both fighting the sickly, sweet stench of roasted pork and Nick was sure he could taste it as well. He eased her around him so she could see the awful carnage on the flight deck. He gave her a minute.
“Right Lil, there’s nothing here. Let’s go.” He was still pinching his nose, and it was more a distorted squeak. The girl nodded and started to turn too, but looked down to navigate around a corpse. She gave a distorted squeak herself, pointing at two black fleshless arms almost at her feet. They were little more than charred bone, but they had a defined shape to them. What they had been was obvious. The rest of the blackened, flaked heap was unrecognisable and he couldn’t see what she was pointing at. He kept dragging and Laleh didn’t resist. Nick didn’t stop until they were well clear of the scorched machine.
“I’m sorry Lil, but that was bloody gruesome. I couldn’t see anything recognisable and I didn’t like the way the metal was groaning. I didn’t see what you were pointing at either.” Laleh looked at him with what seemed relief.
“There was a class ring on one of the fingers Nick. An American one. That was the thing I most remember about the other one. He’d obviously stolen it off someone at the embassy.” She breathed deeply. It was almost a sigh.
When they turned up hill the Kurd was a few metres away holding onto the four horses.
“I’m ready now Nick. Let’s get on with this.”
He was unable to shake images of her in a horned helmet,
waving a grisly battle-axe around her head, with someone writing music about her.
Gizko sheathed the rifle and hung the black bag on the spare horse, took up its reins and led off. This time Nick mounted himself. He waited for Laleh to pull in behind Gizko, then slotted in behind her.
They climbed for another two hours, rarely talking, each sunk into memories of what had happened and what it meant to them. The metallic ring of the animal’s steel shoes on rock and squeak of the harness leather were the only significant sounds.
Chapter Fifty
The track remained narrow with just enough room for them to move in file, the tall boulders and outcrops squeezing in on them repeatedly from both sides. Nick had expected staggering panoramic views but they were climbing within a tall mountain range, and it just didn’t happen. The slope did ease however, and the grassy clearings got bigger and more frequent. The ground first levelled then started to descend gently.
They passed between two lichen streaked uneven pillars that towered upright like a grand portal. Beyond, the ground spread rapidly into a widening plateau. Their guide reined in and shouted down slope in Kurdish while Nick and Laleh stopped waiting for a reply. They were still surrounded by rolling hillocks, and jagged peaks still climbed well above, but now Nick could see stunted bushes following the banks of twisted, rocky run-offs, and lower down two men on ponies tended a flock. An answer came in the same singsong language, but Laleh didn’t understand it. Gizko turned to her. When he spoke it was in Farsi.
“My father’s brother. He runs his herds on Turkish grass.” Laleh turned and started translating for Nick but when she got to the Turkish bit both their faces registered something bordering on shock simultaneously. They spun to the Kurd as one. A small smile registered on his face, the first emotion he’d shown since they’d started off. He nodded a couple of times then stabbed a slim, brown index finger downwards.
