Authors: Vivek Ahuja
Fenix (8 page)
“…Naturally, we cannot be go on this ourselves.” Ansari concluded. Gephel raised an eyebrow: “And
why
not?”
Ansari shook his head: “No chance. Humping over these mountains here is a young man’s game. That leaves us old geese out. I want your expertise from the Pathfinder missions but you are to go nowhere near the field!”
“Fine.” Gephel relented and then looked at the majestic Himalayas around them. “Can you get
anybody
from
SOCOM
for this operation?”
“Give me a name and I will have him deputed. The powers-that-lord-over-us have given me broad authority to acquire whoever we need…within limits of course!” Ansari focused on Gephel. “
Why?
Who did you have in mind?”
“There is this young major I met over at Vairengte who is teaching special-forces officers on high-altitude special-warfare tactics with his Bhutanese wartime experiences. You will know him. The guy led his team into combat against the Chinese Highland Division forces north of Thimpu during the initial phases of the Bhutanese theater. His small force worked with Warlord and his commanders to hold the reds off until the Paras could secure Thimpu.”
“Oh, I think I know this guy,” Ansari tried to recollect his memorized information on
SOCOM
personnel. “Didn’t his team get chewed up over there? Himself included?”
“Do you blame him?” Gephel asked. “A nuclear explosion will do that to a man, you know. He got chopped up and barely walked out of Bhutan with a severe leg wound. Only three others from his team survived.
But
he’s recovered now. I met the boy before I headed over here. He’s perfect for what we need. Grab him before some other task-force does!”
Ansari nodded with a smile, more so at the ease with which Gephel had accepted his task without actually saying it. And also because he realized that has special-warfare team had already begun to grow.
The plan was not theoretical anymore.
P
athanya thanked the young air-force officer who had dropped him off on the tarmac near the parked aircraft. He grabbed his rucksack from the back of the Gypsy and returned the salute of the driver. The latter accelerated away, moments later. It was already dark at Chandigarh. The last shades of red and orange sunlight were making the western skies look ablaze. He looked around as he saw the airfield abuzz with vehicles, aircraft, soldiers and cargo. The air was alive with military noises.
But down on this side of the tarmac, the activity was more subdued. He saw the two, large C-130J transport aircraft parked a few dozen meters away. Men in green flight-suits were milling about. A fuel bowser was parked nearby and a large pipe was trailing from its side as it headed above into the wing of one of the nearer C-130Js. Pathanya could see the rear ramp of the aircraft lowered and about a dozen men with similar rucksacks standing nearby.
As he walked towards the aircraft, Pathanya saw the pilots in the cockpit adjusting their helmet mounted night-vision goggles. The greenish glow from these optics reflected around their eyes as they settled into the darkened cockpit. It was then that Pathanya noticed that while the night had crept in, the airbase had not lit up as it did under normal circumstances. Lighting was being kept to a minimum. It would do no good for people in the pay of the Pakistanis to keep visual tabs on the happenings of this base, considering the base’s strategic value as one of the lifeline nodes to Ladakh and Kashmir.
“Major Pathanya,” one of the men near the ramp said, “glad you could make it to this party!” The group as a whole turned to face Pathanya and revealed that they had been consulting with small flashlights on the maps held by one of the men. This man then folded the map and stepped forward. Pathanya saw the man was wearing the shoulder ranks of a colonel and dressed as a Paratrooper down to the beret. Pathanya instantly dropped his rucksack on the tarmac and saluted.
“At ease, Pathanya.” Ansari put his left hand out. Pathanya saw the hand and shook it.
“Sir, apologies for my delay!” Pathanya said with sincerity that Ansari recognized. He understood. Logistics were a nightmare for the entire Indian military at the moment, and nobody was exempt from it. No matter how important their task.
“Understood, major.” Ansari said flatly and looked at the chaos on the rest of the tarmac. “Nobody expected to fight a winter war in the Himalayas. Despite the China war, we have yet to bring up our logistics in the mountains to acceptable levels. We are
always
caught flat footed, aren’t we?” Ansari shook his head and turned to Pathanya: “Well, we will make do. Hopefully we won’t have to go back into Tibet this time around!” He winked and then turned to the rest of the men as Pathanya picked up his rucksack from the tarmac and followed, still not entirely sure why he was here or what the hell he was supposed to be doing.
“Sir,” the group of men turned to see the pilot of the aircraft walk towards them in the cabin, “we are cleared to go in ten minutes! Suggest you get your men and equipment on board right away!”
Ansari nodded and stepped on board the cargo ramp before turning to the men: “Gentlemen, let’s go. This war will not wait for us!”
As the others stepped on board and walked into the large cargo cabin, Pathanya took stock of the equipment that had been loaded inside already. This included a large contingent of small arms, explosives, communications equipment and a number of other Paratroopers and soldiers already sitting further up the cabin, keeping their own company aside from Ansari’s boys. They looked up to see the dozen men boarding the aircraft from the rear and taking their seats but otherwise continued with their work. He saw one familiar face in there. Captain Kamidalla smiled and waved at him from his seat further up the cabin. Pathanya smiled and nodded in response. He hadn’t see Kamidalla since they had all moved on from Vairengte to different wartime assignments handed to them individually. He hadn’t expected to see Kamidalla here. But it was a pleasant surprise. But the details would have to wait for now.
Pathanya took his seat on the side of the cabin alongside the other men and finally saw in the dim red lights of the cabin the ranks of those men. A couple of Captains, including Kamidalla, three lieutenants and the rest were senior non-coms. Pathanya huffed in amusement as he added up the symptoms to diagnose the disease. Ansari heard the suppressed huff. He sat down next to Pathanya just as the ramp was raised by the loadmaster. The noise of the rotating propellers was now audible inside.
“You approve, major?” Ansari removed his beret and ran his hand through the balding white hair, ruffling them.
“Sir, I am not even sure what I would be approving!”
“But you approve?” Ansari pushed. Pathanya chuckled.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Ansari said in conclusion.
Pathanya placed his rucksack on the floor between his feet. “I was told by my commanding officer to report for an immediate flight to Chandigarh and to report to you. They didn’t even tell me where I was supposed to find you in Chandigarh. I had all of three hours to prepare and have been traveling all day since.”
“Well,” Ansari replied, “Join the club, Pathanya. If you think
you
had a strange day, you should step into
my
boots for the past week. But to put your curiosity aside, I should mention that you weren’t just picked out of a hat. I am in charge of putting together a very delicate operation and I needed men well versed with the craft, especially in the high mountains. Your experience in Bhutan was mentioned to me by one of my senior officers. Incidentally, you have met the man. Anyway, he told me where you were, I called your CO and here you are.”
Ansari paused as the roar of the engines increased suddenly and they felt themselves accelerating down the runway. A few seconds later they were airborne and the vibrations of the undercarriage rolling into the fuselage confirmed the same.
“As you are now acutely aware,” Ansari continued, “we are gearing up for some major operations in response to the Pakistani strike on Mumbai. I say Pakistani instead of a terrorist strike because we know where the chain ends. Even so, New-Delhi feels that the appropriate response to such a devastating attack is to take out key terrorist targets inside Pakistan. The majority of these locations are inside occupied Kashmir. You buddies are gearing up for supporting the air-strikes should the need arise to send in ground troops to finish the task. But there won’t be a need and they aren’t going anywhere!”
Pathanya cocked an eyebrow: “Why is that, sir?”
“Because the camps and locations we will strike will be deserted of all targets
long
before we get there.” Ansari let that snippet sink in.
“
What?
” Pathanya blurted out. “Then what’s the point of all this?”
“Exactly.” Ansari had the air of a man who had realized this sad truth a long time ago. “We are doing this because we have to do
something
! Else we invite more such strikes on us. At least that’s the working theory in New-Delhi.”
“But
we
have a different plan?” Pathanya asked with all seriousness. Ansari turned to face Pathanya: “For the record, we don’t have a plan
any
different from the official plan is.”
“And off the record?” Pathanya queried.
“How’s your Urdu?”
──── 7
────
“I
t is not our fight. Isn’t that what
they
said to
us
three years ago?” Wencang said as he kept walking. General Chen kept his pace alongside him as others in the corridor swept aside to make way for the two senior-most officials of the Central Military Commission. The walls of the corridor were covered with red curtains and portraits of past commanders and leaders of the communist party of China. Wencang didn’t bother dropping a glance on either of them. He was in this building far too many times a day for it to matter anymore. But
this
time he did stop at one of the last portraits before his office. It was of his predecessor, Peng.
Peng had been killed three years ago as a result of a deadly Indian ICBM attack on one of the last days of the war. He had died alongside a host of other senior party officials and senior military commanders when their arrival at the national command center west of Beijing had been pre-empted by the Indians. Wencang and Chen had survived that strike because they had not been with that group. In fact, they had been put outside that group by Peng himself, although the reasons for him doing so were far from benign.
You bastard!
Wencang stared at the portrait
You wrought what you had sown!
Wencang sighed and turned to Chen, who raised an eyebrow at his commander, guessing his thoughts. Wencang shook his head and started walking towards his office with Chen in tow. The large hall outside his office door was occupied only by the desks of his office adjutants. The red coloration of the various drapes and carpets in the room were hard to miss. The Lt-colonel who was in charge of the team of assistants immediately got up from his seat, sliding his chair back with a grinding noise. He saluted as Wencang walked by. Chen returned the Lt-colonel’s salute. Wencang didn’t bother. Neither man broke their stride as they walked past the man into Wencang’s office.
“So what do those bastards want, anyway?” Wencang said as he removed his uniform coat. Chen waited as the Lt-colonel closed the doors behind them.
“What the beggars always want,” Chen replied. His eyes followed Wencang as the latter walked around the desk and watched the snow glistening on the grass outside the window.
“Satellite intel?” Wencang said after consideration. Chen nodded. “Indeed.”
“What else?” Wencang asked, fishing into his pocket for the cheap Mongolian cigarettes that he loved. He had picked up the habit when he had been posted at one of the Mongolian border
PLAAF
airbases so many decades ago. The last decade had accelerated his habit towards it logical end. He now coughed after every cigarette and wondered each time whether the next one would be his last…
“…and additional ammunition supplies to beef up their war reserves,” Chen concluded. Wencang turned to face his colleague and realized he had missed whatever the man had been saying. He looked at Chen and caught his glance. Both men smiled and Chen tossed the file on the massive wooden desk: “You can read the list later if you want. Nothing overtly unorthodox in there. The real question,” he pointed a finger at the closed file, “is whether or not we should provide them any of what’s in here. Not after their betrayal!”
“Betrayal, Chen?” Wencang said as he turned away from the window and moved into his seat behind the desk. He extinguished the cigarette. “You mean self-preservation, no? Isn’t that what all animals do? Look out for their survival?”
“Very well then,” Chen conceded, “like animals. Self-preservation.
Whatever!
The point is,
every
gut in my body wants to tell their ambassador and their military attaché to go fuck themselves!”
“The point is,” Wencang said as he grabbed the file and leaned back as he opened its contents, “that like
all
animals, our friends in Rawalpindi did what they felt they had to do to preserve themselves during our war with India. They helped where they could, but drew the line very clearly when they saw that the war was not going according to our estimates.”
“So how do you explain their current behavior?” Chen asked as he crossed his arms. “Surely this strike against Mumbai is not going to be taken lightly by New-Delhi? Hussein is quite mad if he thinks otherwise!”
“From his perspective, he is quite sane, Chen. He is using the opportunity given to him by a weakened Indian military and economy, a weakened Indian government that has let go of key individuals that helped secure their survival in their war with us and a Prime Minister in New-Delhi who is more inclined for peace even when presented with conflicting evidence regarding Pakistani intentions.” Wencang read through the items in the file and closed the file, putting it back on the table.
He then looked at Chen and continued: “General Hussein and his right-hand man, General Haider, have made their bets on the outcome to this plan. In that respect we can play along as well. If the net result is the further weakening of our enemies in a bloody war,
should
we get in the way?”
“Agreed!” Chen said.
“There is nothing at all for us to lose in any of this. My friend, I trust you to take care of this with the utmost discretion, of course.”
“Understood.” Chen nodded.
“Very well then,” Wencang said as he glanced at the file on the desk. After a few seconds of silent consideration, he scowled: “Consider all of these requests from Rawalpindi
approved!
Your command will receive its orders from this office before the end of this day. Time to throttle up the pressure around the Indian necks. Make it happen!”
NEW CHINA NEWS AGENCY RADIO ANNOUNCEMENT
BEIJING, CHINA
The spokesperson of the Central Military Commission, air-force General Chen confirmed that the exercise was intended to test refinements made to the fighting abilities of the armed forces and would include a new air-ground concept for mountainous terrain. The exercise will see the deployment of our comrades in the 81
ST
Airborne Army as well as air-defense troops and other aerial forces over the plateau of Tibet.
General Chen confirmed that the timing of the exercise was not intended to coincide with the recent happenings on the Indian subcontinent and were not designed to be hostile to other nations. However, he confirmed disappointment within the politburo with New-Delhi’s aggressive warlike postures against Pakistan. General Chen noted that New-Delhi was correct to pursue the perpetrators of the nuclear violence in Mumbai but were wrong to think that nations in the region will stand by and watch a blatant attack on a smaller sovereign nation like Pakistan. He hoped that New-Delhi will see the light and conform to diplomatic channels to pursue the criminals behind the Mumbai attack…”
T
he peace and calm over Lhasa was drowned by muffled jet engine noises during the afternoon as the first Chinese transport aircraft began approaching the city at high altitude from the northwest. As the civilians ran into the streets, the blue skies above started to fill with circular white contrails of multi-engine aircraft while other contrails dissipated in a straight line to the north. Those near the airport got to see firsthand as the first Y-20s of the Chinese air-force landed on the concrete runway with their large wing flaps deployed. As one aircraft landed, another took up approach until aircraft were making a line in the skies above. The PLA 81
ST
Airborne Army had started to arrive into its theater of operations.
“C
are to explain what you are up to?” Ravoof said to the Chinese ambassador sitting across from him. The latter man simply sipped his tea with all the deliberations of a snail. The act was designed to get under Ravoof’s skin. But the veteran Indian minister was not new to the game. With decades of experience dealing with the likes of such state representatives, he could play the game as good as anyone else, when time had not been a factor. Today was different.
After what seemed like an eternity, the Chinese ambassador put his cup on the table and looked up at his host across the meeting room: “I am afraid I don’t know what…”
“Let me just cut to the crux of the matter here,” Ravoof interjected. Sharp enough to cause his opponent to grimace. “Your country is currently in the process of deploying a massive airborne army inside Tibet. Spare me the denials and the faked surprise, sir. We
know
.
You
know that
we
know. So I am asking you directly. What is Beijing’s intention here?”
The ambassador kept his tone neutral: “The scheduled military exercises inside our territorial borders is nobody’s concern other than China’s.”
Ravoof noted that the gloves were now off. “When such exercises threaten the borders of a neighboring country undergoing a tense standoff with your supposed ally, they cease to be the concern only of Beijing, sir!” Ravoof leaned back in his seat and rested his arms on the armrest: “I should remind you that while we don’t particularly relish the idea of going back in time by three years, we will
not
hesitate to do so.”
The Chinese ambassador shook his head in feigned dejection: “Such a belligerent stance is typical of New-Delhi off late.”
“When we have neighbors who enjoy costly provocations,” Ravoof replied, “it is hardly a surprise, sir, that such stances need to be created.”
The lack of diplomatic tact and civility between Beijing and New-Delhi did not surprise Ravoof. The costly war in Tibet had created deep scars on both sides that were not going to heal easily. Of course, it didn’t help to have a painful neighbor in the form of Pakistan attempting to take advantage of the delicate and precarious peace between the two regional powers…
“This would be so much easier,” the ambassador noted after several seconds, “if your government was to approach this Mumbai matter via diplomacy with Islamabad rather than through military belligerence.”
And there it is…
Ravoof thought. The
real
message had been delivered. “I doubt Beijing would be advocating peaceful diplomacy if this nuclear strike had taken out Shanghai. We have offered to resolve this diplomatically. It has been a week since the attack and we have
still
held off our military response to allow diplomacy to work. If you expect anything more, I would be inclined to say your allegiance is less to maintaining peace and more to provoke war, sir.”
“Should I take that as a threat?” the Chinese diplomat asked neutrally.
“Take it for what it’s worth.” Ravoof added flatly. “I only represent the government and do not make unilateral policy statements. Least of all on national security matters.”
“So you are only the messenger?”
“If you insist on calling me so.”
The ambassador leaned forward in his chair: “And what
is
your government’s message?”
Ravoof leaned forward as well for emphasis: “Stand
down
your military deployments currently taking place in Tibet. Pakistan is
not
worth it.”
The Chinese diplomat nodded for a few seconds and then prepared to leave, collecting his suitcase by the chair. Ravoof also got up in response.
“I am afraid,” the ambassador noted as he buttoned his coat, “that as much as you are a messenger and servant of your government, so am I of mine. As such, I will convey your concerns to Beijing. That said, I do not think Beijing’s response will be nearly as civilized as mine. The war in Tibet is still a festering wound on the souls of many who now lead both our nations. Don’t you agree?”
Rvavoof nodded slightly. He understood and echoed some of the same hostile sentiment. Even so, he understood clearly his country’s current weakened state more than any military officer. Unlike many in South Block, he actually listened when the senior military brass spoke. He heard from them not what he wanted to hear but what they were telling him. And what they had been telling him was their inability to fight both Pakistan and China at the same time. And from their faces Ravoof had seen the clear-as-day message from the military to the government:
keep China out of this
.
