Tales of the Forgotten

by W. J. Lundy

  “Where is your crew chief?” Sean asked over the intercom.

  “We are running short of those these days,” Douglas said. “We are lucky to even have this bird; it’s one of the last ones in country.”

  “You Army, Mr. Douglas?” Brad asked.

  “No, I wish. I’m just a civilian. I fly ... well I guess I flew … for the oil companies, but I’m on an indefinite government contract now. As long as they feed me and keep me alive, I fly. This here is Captain Bradley. He’s retired Air Force,” Douglas said, pointing to Bradley.

  Bradley raised a hand to wave but said nothing.

  “They pulled us out of Bahrain for this mission. Not that there was much worth staying for once the survivors’ camp was overrun. The island has pretty much been written off. Just small pockets of resistance held up in skyscrapers mostly. There isn’t shit left of the place now,” Douglas finished.

  A flashing yellow light and the piercing beep of an alarm started to flash from the console. “Get ready to exit, we will be landing soon,” he said.

  “Landing? Where are we? We haven’t been in the air long enough,” Brooks asked.

  “This flight is only getting us to a refuel point; we don’t have fuel for much else. We made it to you fellas on fumes as it is,” Douglas answered.

  “We will be coming around once to check for screamers, then I’m going to set her down by those rocks near the fuel bladders,” Bradley said.

  “Understood, Bradley,” Douglas answered.

  The Black Hawk banked hard and circled out over the open sand, then came back and set down in a cloud of dust. Bradley and Douglas reached around the cockpit and started flipping switches as the helicopter started to wind down.

  “Chief? Would you and your boys mind stepping outside and setting up security?” Douglas asked.

  Sean reached down and pulled the large bay door open. The three of them stepped into the cool night air. The blades of the helicopter were slowing but still making a good deal of noise. Brad had his night vision back on and was scanning the desert.

  “Looks clear, Mr. Douglas,” Sean said. “Where are we?”

  “We are just south of Kandahar, and we need to hurry. Mr. Aziz’s ride will be here soon,” Douglas said.

  Douglas and Bradley grabbed a large canvas bag from a cargo compartment in the helicopter and ran a distance from the bird. Douglas dumped the contents of the bag onto the ground.

  “Chief, could your team handle this? Headquarters said your men would be familiar with this gear,” Douglas said. “I would offer to help, but the captain and I really have to get the refueling done before the screamers show up.”

  Sean ran to the spot and examined the gear. “You gotta be shitting me,” he said.

  “What is it, Chief?” Brooks asked.

  “It’s a damn Fulton! We don’t use this shit anymore,” Sean said.

  Douglas looked back over his shoulder and yelled, “We do now, Chief. Could you get it set up please? The pickup will be here in under twenty minutes.”

  “I’m not following. Sean, is there another helicopter coming?” Brad asked.

  “No, the Fulton is a big ass balloon. We’re going to strap it to Aziz. An aircraft will fly overhead and catch the balloon, then reel his sorry ass on board. We trained on these but they stopped using this gear years ago,” Sean answered.

  “Well, nothing is too good for our boy Aziz,” Brooks said, gesturing back towards the helicopter. “Let’s get it done, Chief.”

  Set up was fairly straightforward. The kit bag contained a balloon, a gas bottle, a harness and about five hundred feet of heavy line. First, they tightly strapped Aziz into an orange jumpsuit that was connected to a large, heavy-duty harness. Brad stuffed a bundle of letters into the jumpsuit and tightly zipped it shut. Brooks saw him and gave Brad a knowing nod, as he forced Aziz into the harness and tightly strapped him in. Next, they attached the coiled line to the balloon. Finally, the other end of the line was secured to the harness and they waited for the signal from Douglas that it was safe to inflate.

  “Has anyone bothered to explain to Aziz what is about to happen?” Brad asked.

  “Nah, we figured a surprise would be better,” Sean said.

  Douglas called out that the aircraft was near the approach and to inflate the balloon. Sean connected the gas bottle to the balloon and turned on three IR strobes connected to a section of the line. Then he turned the valve and the balloon began to quickly fill with helium. As the balloon filled, Aziz figured out what was going on and he began to panic.

  “Don’t worry pal, you’re going to love this,” Brooks laughed while slapping a heavy pair of goggles over Aziz’s eyes.

  The balloon filled quickly and pulled off the ground, trailing the line behind it. There was no breeze, so it went almost straight up and barely drifted. The line was now taut and all the slack was gone. It was very quiet now; all they could hear was the sobbing of Aziz and the fuel pumps purring away, filling the large tanks on the Black Hawk.

  Douglas called back to them again from the fuel bladders. “The C130 says they are on approach and they have visual. You might want to step away from our guest.”

  “C130? So why didn’t they just land and pick all of us up?” Brad asked.

  “Not so easy, son. All of the airfields near here are overrun; this is the best we got,” Douglas answered.

  They heard the buzzing of the C130 coming in from the east. The moon was now covered in clouds and they could hardly see anything. Aziz increased his panic when he picked up on the sounds of the approaching aircraft. The men stepped away from Aziz and gathered near the helicopter to resume their security watch of looking for primals.

  The aircraft got louder as it got closer and lower to the ground. Soon Sean pointed and they could just barely make it out flying low and slow toward them. A large, V-shaped hook extended from its nose and it was on a direct path for the balloon. The C130 flew directly over them. At first nothing seemed to happen, then they saw the line stretch and Aziz snapped into the air and was gone.

  21.

  The flight crew was finishing up the refueling procedures. They turned heavy wheels and pulled switches to cut off the power to the large pumps. Brad watched them as they disconnected and stored the heavy fuel lines in plywood lockers. Captain Bradley and Mr. Douglas walked back to the Black Hawk, diligently inspecting every detail.

  “We are almost ready to go, Chief. If your boys could continue to pull security until she is warmed up I would appreciate it,” Douglas called.

  “We got it sir, just tell us when to mount up,” Sean called back.

  “You’re going to need to make it quick, sir, I got movement,” Brooks said.

  “What do you see Brooks?” Sean called out.

  “Large mass at your three o’clock and moving fast.”

  “The birds bring them in, for some reason the screamers love helicopters,” Bradley called over his shoulder.

  Brad raised his scope and saw them, a small party out front and another larger group trailing them. Sean snatched up his long rifle and took a prone firing position; Brooks fell to the ground near him with his own scoped rifle.

  “You work the center, I’ll pick up stragglers,” Sean calmly said to Brooks. “Brad, keep an eye on our flanks, I don’t want anything sneaking up on us.”

  Brooks began firing his rifle and methodically knocked down the leaders. Sean followed his lead and started firing in a smooth motion to cut down the runners, but it was doing very little to slow the pack’s progress. Brad ran to the edge of the clearing in a high spot where he could see all the approaches to the landing site. He could see the mass closing on them from Sean’s direction. Brad continued to scan wider, checked the rest of the area, and found it clear.

  The Black Hawk started to wake up; the rotors slowly went into motion, whooping as they sped.

  “Chief, I have the mini-gun up if you and your men would like to retreat to the bird,” Douglas screamed over the increasing w
hine of the turbines.

  “You heard the man, bound back,” Sean ordered.

  Brad turned around and ran back to the Black Hawk, Just as he arrived from the flank, he could see Sean and Brooks board the bird. The engines were screaming now as Bradley increased the throttle. Sean took up a position behind the large M134 mini gun, flipped the switches powering it up, and readied himself to fire.

  “You’re clear to engage, Chief,” Douglas called back.

  Sean pulled the trigger and a stream of rounds cut through the night; a blinding laser light show ensued. Brad could no longer see the primal mob with his night vision off, but he followed the trail of gunfire and watched the shadows dance as rounds exploded and skipped off of the ground. Sean was decimating the crowded path as he cut left and right, sweeping through the charging primals.

  The Black Hawk slowly lifted with its nose down and began to pick up speed. It turned slightly and headed into the mob that was now far below. They reached out their arms and grappled at the beam of gunfire Sean was pouring down on them. The Black Hawk opened the distance and Sean continued to fire even though the threat was now gone. He cut a wide path through the charging mob, releasing weeks of frustration.

  “Cease fire, Chief, we may need some rounds for later,” Douglas called back.

  Sean shook his head and powered the gun down. Leaning back into the crew chief’s seat, he looked exhausted. He intentionally set down the headset before he closed his eyes.

  The Black Hawk flew smoothly through the night sky speeding south. Brad looked out of the small window but could see nothing but blackness. The desert was dark; there were no lights, no signs of life. He didn’t see a single fire, no headlights on the roads. It was desolate and dead below him. He pressed back against the hard seat and tightened the restraint belt.

  “Where are we going, Mr. Douglas?” Brad asked.

  “South to the Arabian Sea; with all of the tanks full, and if we fly conservatively, we should make it. If not, we will have some walking or possibly swimming to do,” Douglas answered.

  “Well that’s reassuring. We catching a ride on a Navy vessel then? That how we’re getting home?” Brad asked.

  “Wish I could answer your questions for you, son, and as good as a Navy meal sounds right now, unfortunately that’s not where we are headed,” Douglas said.

  “Enough with the riddles! Where the hell are we going?” Brooks asked impatiently.

  “We are scheduled to land on a secured oil platform off the coast; the Navy and Marines have secured a number of them in this area. Land-based facilities are all closed this side of Iran,” Bradley said. “I know it’s not ideal boys. I’m not excited about it myself. But it sure beats the hell out of nesting with screamers.”

  “Then what?” Brooks asked.

  “Then we wait. We were promised a ride home when we took this job. I don’t have the details. I just have to get this crate to the platform,” Bradley said. “I have been told it has power, food, and hot showers, so let’s just take it one day at a time.”

  Brad sat back in his seat, shaking his head, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion. It’s going to be a long ride home, he thought to himself.

  Thank You for Reading

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  Lundy W. J. (2013-05-09). Tales of the Forgotten. Kindle Edition.

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