Hawkins' Heroes 06 Counterpunch by Todd McLeod; Eric Meyer

Author:Todd McLeod; Eric Meyer [Meyer, Todd McLeod; Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07YQ2R8WT
Publisher: Swordworks
Published: 2019-10-02T21:00:00+00:00

*

The Black Hawk was traveling from the city of Kunduz in the north of Afghanistan, carrying supplies to a firebase in the southeast, close to the border with Pakistan. The vibration from the main rotor was the first sign of trouble, and the second the loss of hydraulic power. The pilot, Captain Edward Rollinson, fought to regain control, all the time aware they were heading in the wrong direction. East.

“Put out a Mayday. It looks like we’re going down. Gary, give them our coordinates, and tell them we’re drifting toward the Wakhan Nature Refuge.”

Gary Weathers acknowledged and made the call. “They’re sending an SAR helicopter to pick us up, and they said to ensure we destroy the airframe.”

He looked puzzled. “Destroy it? Why can’t they send out a crew to recover it?”

“They said something about heavy enemy activity in the area.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s all we need. Keep your rifle handy when we’re on the ground.”

“I’m on it. Do you think we could make it down in one piece?”

At that moment the transmission hub beneath the rotor screamed in protest, and they heard the distinct noise of metal breaking apart. Rollinson immediately flicked the switch to cut the engine.

“I’m taking her down on autorotation. Warn the crew chief.”

“I heard you,” Charlie McGregor shouted from the cabin.

“Hold tight.”

They were already flying low and descended the last few meters fast, hitting the ground with a bone shaking crash. The aircraft stayed upright, and after checking the radio and finding it wrecked, they scrambled out in case of fire. They were in a shallow valley overlooked on both sides by tall hills. The place was desolate, as if no one had ever considered it worthwhile to make a home in such an inhospitable area. Apart from the man who suddenly stepped out from behind a heap of rocks that may once have been a shepherd’ s hut. Although he looked Chinese, he wore traditional Afghan robes and carried an AK-47, but in Afghanistan most men carried a gun, and the AK was the preferred choice.

The pilot kept his hand on his pistol, but didn’t draw it. There was no sign of any hostile intent, and besides, the man was smiling as he got near. To their surprise, he greeted them in English.

“You are Americans?”

Rollinson relaxed. “Yeah, that’s right, we’re Americans. How far are we from civilization?”

“How far? A lifetime.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You soon will.”

He held up a hand, and a bunch of men appeared from nowhere, running from behind rocks. They also carried AKs, and these were pointed at the crew of the Black Hawk. He murmured something in Pashtu, and the weapons roared, but they were aimed at their bodies, not their heads. The three aircrew fell in agony as bullets chewed into their legs, and the Afghan signaled for them to cease fire. A man ran up with a small video camera and started to record.

“Your deaths will be a lesson to other infidels to stay away from my country.”

Through the agony of his wounds, Rollinson stared back at him in astonishment.

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