Fenix (15 page)

“All panther elements we are dusting off!”

“-Two copies.”

“-Three copies all.”

“Leopard copies all,” Dutt added. “Watching for your ingress to primary
A-O
. Will advise on threat vectors.”

Good…
Jagat thought. They would need Leopard to help orient to the terrain. The area-of-operations was just beyond the valley that they had been parked in. They had
heard
all the explosions and
seen
the orange-yellow glow silhouetting the mountains. They had even seen random tracers flying upwards from time to time. But the actual positions of Pathfinder was unknown to them. Inside the Dhruv cockpit, Jagat and his pilots could not see the video output from the Searcher-II drones that Ansari and Gephel had access to. So Jagat would rely on the infrared strobes deployed by Pathanya and his men to mark the pickup point.

The Dhruv leapt off the grassy area and climbed out of the valley. Less than a minute later, Jagat was already climbing past the hills. Instantly he and his crews had to readjust their night-optics sensitivity to account for the blazing fires raging all around. The
LCH
gunships were roving in the valley looking for targets…

“
Oh shit!
” Jagat’s co-pilot exclaimed.

Jagat lowered the pitch of his helicopter and brought it into hover. “Panther here. We are going to need
some
visual reference on pathfinder’s location. Are your strobes flashing?” 

“Uh…roger, panther.” Pathanya responded.

“Well, I have
no
visual. Too much thermal interference here from the fires.”

“Leopard here: do you see the burning convoy on the east-west road?”

Jagat looked up to see the blazing fires from the dozen pickup trucks and lorries on the road. “Roger. We see it.”

“Do you see the hilltop north of it?”

“I have it, leopard. Panther is inbound.” Jagat responded and then pushed the throttle and cyclic to bring the helicopter into forward-flight towards the silhouetted hilltop north of them. “Give me a sit-rep on the
D-Z
!”       

“Secure and holding, panther.” Pathanya chimed in. “
But
we have an inbound convoy of Pakistani troops heading down the road from the west.”

Jagat and his co-pilot saw the burning trucks spewing smoke as the overflew the road and the two mud houses. The view then changed to dark, alpine trees on the slope of the hill all the way to the top. Up on the crest of the hill, they saw a dozen or so heavily-armed men. Jagat adjusted the cyclic control and turned the orientation of the helicopter to the south before lowering collective and altitude. He was now hovering a few feet above the hilltop. He could clearly see Pathanya standing on the ground next to another man. This other man was wearing a jacket above his salwar-kameez and had his hands tied and his mouth taped over. Jagat smiled as he brought his helicopter in for a landing…

Pathanya grabbed Muzammil by his sleeves and pulled him to his feet before shoving him towards the helicopter. Behind him, another of the pathfinders helped his limping comrade towards the helicopter. The commotion in the cabin caused Jagat and his co-pilot to turn back and see Pathanya shoving Muzammil into a seat before helping his wounded man aboard. He then looked to Jagat: “one high-value-individual at your disposal, sir!”

“Well done, major.” Jagat replied. “Get your men aboard the rest of the helicopters. I…”

“Leopard here!” Dutt interrupted on the radio. “We are detecting one Mi-17 helicopter approaching the valley from the northeast!
Not
friendly!”

Jagat immediately turned to his left to try and see the incoming Pakistani helicopter. He could see the black speck on his night optics against the greenish night sky. He also saw two of Dutt’s
LCH
s passing over their heads…

“Leopard, take that bastard down before he ruins our whole day!”

“Wilco Panther. Leopard is engaging!”

Jagat saw tracers from the chin-turret cannons of the two
LCH
s as they laced through the sky towards the evading Pakistani Mi-17. The crew of that helicopter had obviously been taken by surprise. Certainly they were
not
aware of Indian gunships prowling the valley ahead of them.

Jagat saw the small flash and then heard the crumbling noise as the Pakistani helicopter went down into the silhouetted mountains, trailing smoke. The two
LCH
s broke off and began turning south. Jagat turned to his co-pilot and Pathanya: “We just lost the element of surprise. That Pakistani crew must have relayed our presence. We are out of time. Get your men aboard
ASAP
. We are
leaving!
”

Pathanya nodded and jumped out of the helicopter to organize his men. Jagat saw the other pathfinders clambering aboard and then got a thumbs up from Pathanya outside his cockpit. He nodded and the Dhruv leapt off the hilltop, making way for the next Dhruv to land and pick up the rest of the pathfinders.

A few minutes later the last Dhruv lifted off the hilltop. Dutt’s
LCH
s also broke off and headed south, covering panther’s back. Jagat saw the fires of the trucks below him in the valley and took a deep breath of relief as they passed the southern mountains. He turned to see the soot and grime covered faces of the pathfinders in his cabin, also tired. Finally he saw Muzammil, his eyes full of fear, unsure of what his future held. The man who had carried out the strike on Mumbai.

Jagat keyed his comms to Ansari: “panther and leopard are clear and we are returning to base. Over.”

“Do you have the package?”

Jagat nodded to himself. “We have him.”

T
here was one last thing that was left to be done. Verma looked at the digital clock console in front of him patted the operator sitting in front of him. The lead radar-systems officer went to work: “mongol-two to sword-leader. You are cleared to splash Skardu! Execute when ready.”

              The response came in a few seconds later, trailing radio static. “Roger. Sword is executing.”

              The Pakistani F-16s blocked on the ground at Skardu were one of the most advanced aircraft in the
PAF
arsenal. And for now they were at the Indian mercy while their airbase runway was still damaged from the Brahmos missile strikes. Verma and Bhosale had agreed long ago that this force of F-16s could
not
be allowed to survive the night. The goal of these strikes was to prevent punish the terrorists harbored by Pakistan. But if that failed and Pakistan upped the ante, it would be much safer for the Indian pilots if
these
twelve enemy aircraft were turned to scrap metal tonight.

              It was a long fifteen minutes of pacing inside the cabin of the cramped aircraft before the leader of the group of Mirage-2000s chimed in:               “sword-leader here. We confirm
seven
buried bandits inside their shelters. Direct hits from multiple precision munitions. Two
more
unconfirmed.
Hell of a party
you have going here, mongol-two. Sword, out!”

              Verma cocked an eyebrow and smiled. He straightened his back. It was time to pull his thinly strung forces back to tighter control over Indian territory. The enemy air-force would not pursue. They couldn’t. The shock delivered to them tonight would take hours, if not days, to heal.

──── 16
────

“D
o you
know
what they have
done?
” Bafna said sharply as he walked into Ravoof’s office. 

              “Who?” Ravoof looked up from the desk and waved for his orderly to close the door that Bafna had burst open.

              Bafna saw the gesture and waited until the door had been closed before he faced Ravoof again: “The service chiefs! Who else?!”

              Ravoof removed his reading glasses and leaned back in his chair. He stared into Bafna’s eyes and saw…what? Anger? Certainly. But fear too?

              “You are over-reacting,” Ravoof said finally. “They did
exactly
what we
asked
them to do. If the Pakistanis are riled up about it, it is exactly
because
of the pain we delivered to them.”

              Bafna moved to the nearby television screen and took the remote to flip it on. The channel showed the latest news streaming in about the ongoing military operations in Kashmir. 

              “Have you seen this?” Bafna said as he increased the volume on one of the channels. Ravoof took a deep breath as the
CNN
crew from Islamabad talked about Pakistani government accusations. Islamabad was frothing at the mouth as they shouted to the world that India had declared all-out-war by striking airbases and military targets inside their side of Kashmir.

              Ravoof turned to Bafna: “So what…”  

              “Wait. Hear this next bit.”

              Ravoof sighed and then turned to the screen again. The reporter was talking about the death of a senior
LET
leader and his major commanders inside Deosai as well as the destruction of more than fifteen
PAF
combat aircraft. Reports of Indian helicopters operating inside Pakistani Kashmir and loss of hundreds of lives all along the line-of-control. Ravoof exhaled again when the reporter started talking about the massive Pakistani military mobilization as they prepared to retaliate. Bafna switched the television off just at that point and tossed the remote-control on to the couch.

              “They
exceeded
the mandate that we set out for them!” He said finally. “And as a result, we are going to war!”

              “
Nonsense!
” Ravoof snapped. “We may very well be going to war but it is
not
because of
our
military operations. The terrorists that struck Mumbai operated on
their
soil.” Ravoof pointed to the TV as though it were Pakistan itself. “The terrorists were being provided arms by Pakistani military personnel.
We
had nothing to do with it.
We
did not want to decimate their military forces inside Kashmir, but they are the ones who decided to use these forces to protect the terrorists. Effectively providing them shelter while Muzammil and his men moved freely declaring jihad against us. That man and his commanders are now dead.
We
did that!
That
was the mandate we gave our military. And in that our service-chiefs were successful! Don’t you
dare
try to pin this war, if it happens, on them!”

              Bafna shook his head. “I see I have wasted my time coming here.”

              “And what
did
you expect my response to be?” Ravoof leaned forward. “Did you expect an accomplice to partake in your misguided anger? I am sorry, my friend. But I have long since forgotten the political maneuverings required for survival in this party of ours. But I still retain enough mental faculty to decide in my country’s favor when it is needed.”

              Bafna sighed and walked to the door, and then turned around: “do you think Islamabad will listen to reason and understand that we
had
to strike these terrorist locations after what happened to Mumbai?”

              “Islamabad?” Ravoof noted and shook his head. “I think you meant Rawalpindi. And the answer is ‘no’. They knew exactly what they were ramping up when they decided to arm the jihadists with nuclear weapons. This is all a chain of events that is inevitable. Perhaps their expectation was that we would not respond. When we threatened to do it, it upset their plans and they decided to ramp up their forces in Kashmir to deter us.”

              “And we struck anyway,” Bafna added neutrally.

              “We did. We had to.”

              “So what’s next?” Bafna said as he walked back in.

              “They won’t back down. No matter what we say or do. It is a matter of ego to them now. They have been challenged and their prestige has been destroyed. The terrorist commanders are dead and their men will demand vengeance. If the Pak army backs down
now
, they will lose their heads to the sharp swords of their own jihadists.”       

              “There is nothing we can do to stop it?” Bafna asked.

              “If there is
anything
to be learnt from the past seven decades,” Ravoof said with emphasis, “it is that the Pak army must be defeated on the battlefield in order for it to listen to reason. Don’t expect diplomacy to work on Generals with bruised egos. The young officers in their army who were humiliated in 1971, instigated the 1999 war. Those humiliated in the 1999 war are now in charge of this one. That’s how it goes in Rawalpindi.”

              Bafna exhaled in frustration and looked out the windows: “what a bunch of morons.”

              “Indeed.”

              “What about Muzammil and his commanders?” Bafna said as he faced Ravoof again.

              “What about him?” Ravoof said, careful with his choice of words now.

              “How did we know where he and his commanders were? How did we kill them?”

              “That is entirely out of my domain. I am not a military expert. Perhaps the service-chiefs or Basu can fill us in.”

Bafna nodded. “Yes, I think that would be best. Incredibly precise operation, that! No?”

              Ravoof nodded silently. The man was correct. Bafna pounded his fist on the wooden desk: “
goddamn it!
We are going to war, aren’t we?”

“If not today, then next week. There is no way to tide this over without one!”

              Bafna blurted out an expletive and walked out of the office, closing the doors behind him. Ravoof sat in silence collecting his thoughts. He had to anticipate Islamabad’s political moves on the world stage and counteract them to India’s advantage. Perhaps find a way to scare the Pakistanis enough to caused them to back away from war?

              Perhaps.

              He also made a mental note to try and find out from Basu on exactly what
had
happened to Muzammil…

“I
s that him?” Basu asked.

Ansari nodded with a smile. “
That’s
our bastard.”

The two men watched as a group of Paras jumped down from the rear of the army truck and helped a man in salwar-kameez to get down. He was handcuffed and had a cover around his head to prevent him from seeing where he was. Pathanya saw the two senior men standing next to the lowered cargo ramp of the C-130J and walked over.

              “Excellent work, major.” Ansari said casually.

              “How did it go?” Basu asked out of curiosity.

              “As well as could be expected, sir.” Pathanya replied. “We took one casualty. A bullet wound to the leg. He will recover. And we laid waste to a lot of senior terrorist commanders. So I would say it was a good night.”

              “Indeed!” Basu added, with slight amusement in his voice. Pathanya turned to see Muzammil being bundled into the back of the aircraft and turned to Ansari: “what’s going to happen to him?”

              “
He
,” Ansari said neutrally, “is going to tell us
exactly
where he got that nuclear warhead for Mumbai.”

              Pathanya understood what that meant. This man had been assumed dead by the Pakistanis as well as by his remaining comrades. Nobody knew he was still alive and in Indian hands. Once Muzammil realized that too, there would be no incentive for him to hold back whatever he knew. He was not a prisoner of war. Neither was he a criminal. So what was he? Nobody. Just an anonymous body of intelligence for
RAW
and military-intelligence. Considering how many innocent people had died in Mumbai, Muzammil’s interrogators were not likely to be civil with him…

              “Sir, what are my orders?” Pathanya asked Ansari.

              “Pathfinder is still with us for the moment.” Ansari said as they watched the cargo ramp door being raised. “Depending on what that bastard reveals, we may have other targets to go after.”

              Basu turned to face Pathanya: “Indeed. This isn’t over.”