The God of No Good by Sita Walker

The God of No Good by Sita Walker

Author:Sita Walker [Sita Walker]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ultimo Press
Published: 2022-12-06T00:00:00+00:00


1962. Tsangdhar Mountain Range. The Himalayas.

The Chinese had been trying to conquer the outpost for two months, but the Indians were fighting valiantly to retain control over the crucial mountain range. If Tsangdhar fell, then the border war contesting control of the Aksai Chin, a white stone plateau at the top of the world, would no doubt tip in favour of the Chinese. Early that morning, Squadron Leader Vinod Sehgal flew by chopper from Zimithang, to rescue the wounded and restore communication with the base. He had not yet returned. Nobody had returned.

Squadron Leader Sochindronath (Satto) Williams had just arrived in Zimithang, from Gauhati, where he was delivering supplies. Ammunition. Food. Blankets. Bandages.

The commander was waiting for him. ‘Williams. Your order is to fly immediately to Tsangdhar. Vinod Sehgal has not returned. Find out what happened, and report back.’

In Gauhati, Satto had seen the Dakota which had just returned from a supply dropping mission over Tsangdhar. It was peppered with bullet holes. Word had not yet reached Zimithang that the mountain outpost had been taken by the Chinese. The commander was uninformed. Satto would of course inform him and declare the mission untenable, if it wasn’t for the crushing fact that Vinod Sehgal was his trusted confidant. More than that, he was his best friend. He had to find him.

‘Yes, sir,’ he said with a salute, and made his way to the launch zone.

Coasting over the Tsangdhar range in his Bell 47G-3 chopper, Satto could see no signs of life. The usual smoke signal over the outpost was not adrift. He flew in a circle over the valley, dwarfed by the mountainous peaks that surrounded it. An eerie, cold silence floated in the white air. The Namka Chu stream iced and bubbled its way at a herding pace through the craggy gorge below.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting barrage of bullets pummelled the helicopter from all sides. Metal venom. The valley which a moment ago was so still and quiet was suddenly resounding with the crack and blow of machine-gun fire from all around. The Bell’s cockpit instruments were shattered. The oil pressure indicator, or what was left of it, showed ‘zero’.

Satto felt a tearing of the flesh of his upper back, like fire to a cut. He instantly executed a corkscrew manoeuvre and dived out of the cirque. The engine could seize at any moment, that much was clear. Below, waiting for his crash landing, was ice, bare rocks and the Chinese army.

Satto was familiar with the route and the updraughts and downdraughts. He hugged the edge of the cliff where there was a good updraught. Fortunately, the damaged engine continued to fire and lifted the helicopter over the last ridge before seizing up. Satto auto-rotated down the other side of the valley.

A small clearing came into view. There it was. He knew it. He had remembered his bearings. Boulders strewn top and bottom, the roaring gorge to the left, and a young tree to the right, Satto would need to auto-rotate tightly enough to land in the middle.



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