Flames And Arrows

by Jaidev Jamwal

“Hurry up! I don't have enough time for you to waste just lolling around.” An impatient and very nervous Chinese PLA Lieutenant barked at the head of three man electric repairmen team. The three men had been working feverishly trying to repair the broken generator for two hours. The massive 100 KVA generator was one of the two that formed a pair providing backup power source for the highly sensitive army base. The main power supply of the base was disrupted after a freak landslide had knocked out two towers a few kilometers away. The first emergency generator had immediately kicked in but had suffered a break down soon after. Resident electricians had expressed their inability to fix the generator forcing the authorities to call in a repair crew from outside.

  The base itself was highly sensitive and was believed to be a storage site for nuclear tipped DF-21 ballistic and H11 long range cruise missiles. It was constructed largely underground inside a mountain and considered nearly impregnable against most aerial attacks. The missile silos themselves were spread about over a large area and hidden by clever camouflage.

  All three men were ethnic Tibetans and not trusted much by almost exclusively Han military personnel. All of their belongings had been thoroughly checked before they entered the base and had been under constant guard of two armed soldiers led by an ill tempered lieutenant since then. The three men worked silently under the sullen gaze of two soldiers without much visible progress. A jumble of wires, nuts, grease and tools littered the place. After a few minutes, leader of the crew stood up and faced the lieutenant.

  “The coil is damaged. It needs replacement if you want this generator to work.” he said in very good Mandarin which seemed to surprise the Lt. Glancing at his soldiers with raised eyebrows he snapped, “Then replace it. Why the hell did we call you anyway?”

  “The thing weighs 130 Kgs and costs 7000 Yuans. I don't have it here.” Seeing the scowl on the face of already red faced Lt. He added quickly, “I do have one at my workshop that'll work.”

  “And?” Came the terse query.

  “I'll need to call somebody in my workshop to bring it over here. I'll have this generator operational within an hour once it gets here.” the middle aged electrician seemed to be getting smaller every moment under the angry stare of the army officer.

  “Then do it already you moron! What are you waiting for?” Lt. Exploded, showering the already cowering electrician with spittle.

  “Yes sir. I'll do it at once.” poor electrician stammered and proceeded to make the call from his cell phone but was interrupted by the army man, “What the hell you think you're doing? This base is thirty meters underground. Your cellphones don't work here. Go with that soldier and call from our line.”

  “Yes sir.” the shaking electrician mumbled and followed one of the soldiers out of the generator room to the phone. The soldier escorted him to one of the phones and waited while the call was made. Once finished he again escorted the electrician back to the general room to the waiting wrathful officer. “Well?” came the inquiry.

  “The coil will be here within twenty minutes sir. Is it possible to get my assistant driving the pickup truck to get here any faster? It took us thirty minutes just at the gates.” Electrician asked timidly

  “I'll see what I can do with the sentries. You idiots just concentrate on fixing the damned generator. The Brigadier will have you skinned alive otherwise.” Motioning his soldiers to keep an eye, he strode out of the room leaving the repair crew slightly relaxed for a change. One of the men cautiously took out a pack of cigarettes and first offered it to the soldiers. One shook his head sternly while the other gratefully accepted.

  Taking in a deep drag, the lead electrician remarked to the 2nd soldier, “Quite a stern fellow your officer is, eh?”

  Trying to be as stern as his officer, the other soldier spoke before his companion could answer “Yes and very ambitious too. You speak very good Mandarin. How's that?”

  “My father was a trader from Henan. He came to Tibet in 1966 and married my mother same year. Learnt to speak Mandarin from him. Studied in school too.” The lead electrician replied proudly.

  “And these two?” The soldier asked, gesturing towards the other two electricians.

  “Oh, this one Gyalwa is my cousin and this is his best friend Kalsang. They both know a little bit of Mandarin that was taught to them in school but not as well as me.” He flashed a grin which went unreciprocated.

  Observing the cold response, the three electricians didn't try to make any more small talk and smoked quietly. Lead electrician stared at the floor and the series of events that had brought him to this place flashed before his eyes one by one. The story of a Chinese father was a lie. Both his parents had been ethnic Tibetans who had suffered greatly under the iron fist of Chinese communism. His father, a respected writer and painter in Tibetan society had been arrested and tortured after he expressed dissent against Chinese occupation and influx of Han settlers. His son was born just 4 months after he was arrested. He was released after spending 4 years in a jail without trial under the condition that he will stop every dissenting activity against the Chinese rule. Once out of jail, the reunited family had immediately collected its belongings and began a long and arduous journey south towards freedom in India. His mother lost a foot to dreaded frost bite and was barely alive when exhausted family reached a small hill town named Dharmshala in India. The health complications related to the traumatic journey haunted her for rest of her life.

  Wangdak, as he was formally named, spent first few years of his childhood helping his struggling family survive the new life in a strange country. Stories of suffering borne by Tibetan people like his parents filled his heart with anger with each passing day. Then he heard about a special Indian military unit consisting of ethnic Tibetans raised by Indian government. As soon as he was of legal age, he applied and got selected. The hardy Tibetan boy passed out of military school as a highly trained Special Forces soldier expert in many languages and explosives. His first few years in Indian army were spent in routine protective duties and occasional intelligence gathering missions, which although challenging, didn't engage him enough.

  Realizing his expertise and hunger soon enough, his seniors had offered him a job as an Indian spy in Tibet. He had jumped at the offer and had sneaked in to Lhasa under the guise of an electrician. His training as Special Forces soldier had come in handy and he had managed to set up a fairly robust network of spies all over his native nation of Tibet. He waited for years, biding his time to do his bit for freedom of his people when a series of events, helped in no less deal by his own planning had brought him inside the highly secure missile base.

  Another Chinese soldier arrived after a few minutes and addressed the electricians, “Your truck has arrived. It's in the parking floor. Come with me if you want to get your stuff inside.” Wangdak nodded at his two colleagues and followed the soldier out of generator room. They snuffed out their cigarettes and moved towards the door as if following their senior, but stopped at the door. Gyalwa glanced once outside watching Wangdak go and closed the door. One of the guards seemed surprised, “What? You aren't going to help him?”

  Gyalwa glanced at him and merely shook his head. This prompted a grunt from the soldier, “You guys haven't said a word all this time. Are you both dumb? And open that damned door. Who told you to shut it?” Gyalwa merely stared back, not moving a muscle. This caused both the soldiers to lose their temper and both moved menacingly towards the unarmed electrician. “Do you want to die you fucking moron? “

  The angry rant was broken suddenly as the furious soldier choked in his own blood that suddenly started gushing out of his throat. Kalsang had moved in silently and used a sharp screw driver to sever the jugular vein of the distracted soldier. Before the other soldier could react, Gyalwa pounced on him and broke his neck in one clean jerk. They then stripped the Chinese soldiers of their uniforms and exchanged them with their own clothes. They were still collecting weapons when there was a knock o
n the door and voice of Wangdak came in, “I'm here with coil.” Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door and walked in along with another man pushing a cart carrying a big crate. The new man, glanced at the two Tibetans dressed in Chinese PLA uniforms and flashed a grin. “How's it going soldiers? Everything going according to plan?”

  Gyalwa nodded, “Yes and let's begin what we came here for right now.”

  The new man smiled again, “Of course. Help me open this crate first.” The four man team at once started dismantling the crate .With practised hands of experts they started screwing out panels and wires of the components and started collecting small white packs out of their cargo. Within a few minutes, a four man team had collected nearly 100kgs of military grade high explosives out of the faux motor coil. Once this was done, a small timer based detonator was attached to each bundle of explosives. This whole process was over in less than ten minutes.

  Once the work was done Wangdak distributed the explosives and said, “Remember what I told you earlier. Each bomb in its planned position. We need to place them in exactly the right positions to take down this base. Now hurry up.”

  Each man then collected his share of primed explosives and started placing them in and around generator room. All four men then walked out in to the parking floor and climbed in to their truck.

  Klasang started the ignition and looked around at his three companions, “We ready to go?”

  Wangdak nodded and the truck slowly moved out of the parking floor in to the road that led to the base. They soon passed the sentry gate without getting challenged. As soon as they drove past the gate, the normally quiet surroundings were shattered by a loud rumble. Explosives planted by the Tibetans had exploded right on time and had ripped through command and control building constructed under the mountain. Explosions first caused the roof of generator room's floor to collapse, triggering a domino effect burying each floor under the one directly above it.

  Command and control center which happened to be the second one from last floor was completely destroyed with near 100% causalities. Some of the warheads which were not mated to any missile were also buried. Although most of the missiles were not damaged, the capability to use those missiles was lost for a long time. Chinese couldn't possibly use those missiles for days if not weeks.

  Gyalwa pumped his fists jubilantly and laughed loudly, “I wish we could destroy those missiles too. More fireworks.”

  Wangdak slapped his shoulder and replied, “Well, that's the best that could be done under circumstances, but don't worry. War has just begun. We are going to see plenty of action. This Chinese dragon will soon join the list of extinct species.”