Fenix

by Vivek Ahuja

  Islamgarh road from the breach point till here. His marker followed up the road on the map. Now coming up…Rahim Yar Khan road. He jabbed the center of the circle with the pencil and then folded the map and stuffed it to the side of the seat. He then pulled himself up to the optics, rotating a full azimuth…

  His tanks were staggered in a wide area on either side of the Islamgarh road, visible as manmade silhouettes against the flickering green horizon. Their turrets moved slowly, deliberately and menacingly. To the east, behind them, he could see columns of vehicles making their way to and fro on the road. These were the engineers from trishul. They were bringing up supplies and evacuating the wounded from his tanks.

  As he shifted the sights to the west, the view changed and he could see columns of smoke rising into the sky. Flashes of white flickered in and out of existence as the air-force pounded a Pakistani column on their way to meet Kulkarni in battle. The way he saw it, the more vehicles destroyed by the air-force, the less there would be for him to fight through…

  “Rhino-actual, this is steel-central. Over.”

  “Rhino-actual reading you five-by-five. Over.”

  “Rhino, what is your status?” Kulkarni recognized Sudarshan’s voice straightaway. His demeanor stiffened instinctively.

  “We are refocusing our forces at waypoint purple. Preparing to move once trishul catches up.”

  “I see that, rhino-actual! I have you on visual!” Sudarshan had his unmanned drones in the skies above. “If I can see you, the enemy can too. They have drones up here. Count on it. And our anti-air boys haven’t delivered on clearing the skies as they were supposed to. I don’t want our tanks sitting in the open if the enemy starts lobbing cruise-missiles. Refocus your fighting elements and push on!”

  “Roger. Rhino-actual copies all! Proceeding with all due haste!” Kulkarni said and the link chimed off.

  Okay…Kulkarni peered through his sights. The town of Rahim Yar Khan was visible on the horizon. The main issue now, though, was what to do with this town?

  It was a question that had plagued planners in army headquarters ever since offensive had been planned. Assuming they got to the outskirts of the town, then what? The assumption had always been that the battles here would be one of attrition, designed to bleed the Pakistani army before advancing to the highway and cutting it off. Either the war would be over by then, or the capture of the town would become insignificant once nuclear weapons were deployed. Nobody had anticipated Kulkarni’s tanks reaching the town before any of those two events…

  Taking the town by force would require the kind of infantry support that was not available this deep inside enemy territory. Same for the artillery. The artillery that was available was the precision kind, designed to strike specific military targets and command centers with missiles. To level each house and building in order to take this town would require immense blunt force firepower delivered by guns that weren’t available. It was at times like this that Kulkarni lamented the lack of self-propelled artillery guns in the armored forces. While even the Pakistanis had these, the Indian forces did not.

  The only option left was for Kulkarni to bypass the town along its perimeter, leaving a screening force along their flanks and dash to the highway west of the town. Kulkarni had decided to do that from the south. Rhino-one and -two taskforces had suffered heavy casualties in the past days. Enough to force him to roll them into a single entity under his command as rhino-alpha. Rhino-three and -four had also been coalesced into a single force and were now tagged as rhino-bravo. The farther they went into Pakistan, the thinner the rhino columns became…

  How long before we are rendered ineffective for further advance? Kulkarni thought as he swiveled the screens: “driver, take the road in front of us to the junction and take the left axis on to Rahim Yar Khan road.”

  “I see it.”

  Kulkarni looked around and saw the grime, soot and sweat-covered faces of his crew, exhausted after two days of combat and scared. Tired of seeing their colleagues die after the other. Tired of this war…

  But they had done well, Kulkarni knew. The Pakistani 1ST Armored Division had been severely mauled. It’s main combat element of modern tanks had been destroyed in the sands east of where Rhino was now. The enemy forces being thrust into battle against him now were, at best, second-line tanks. And the Pakistanis knew better than to throw them into battle head on. No, the Pakistani commanders were playing defensive now. They were digging in their forces inside Rahim Yar Khan and were determined to hold it.

  “Rhino-actual to all elements,” Kulkarni said into his speaker, “we are moving on to waypoint red. Rhino-bravo: take the flank. Rhino-alpha is leading the charge. Expect heavy resistance. Kill any Pakistani foolish enough to try and get in your way! Civilians or otherwise. You all heard what the jihadists are doing against near Lahore. Expect the same here! Do not allow any Pakistani to come close. Kill anyone who does. Rhino will not be denied the objective! Out!” He changed comms: “driver, push on!”

  As the tank rumbled to life and jerked forward, Kulkarni collected his thoughts. He was only too aware of the kind of war the Pakistanis were waging in Lahore. The jihadists were leading the assault against Indian forces. It didn’t take much for him to anticipate the same sort of battle for Rahim Yar khan. As his tanks rolled up and on to the tar of the Rahim Yar Khan road, the battle for Islamgarh road was officially over.

  And the battle for Rahim Yar Khan was just beginning.

  ──── 32 ────

  “Sir, wake up!” Akram shook Haider as he slept in his sleeping bag. Haider mumbled something and turned around, his eyes barely adjusting to the pitch darkness.

  “What is it?” He said finally as rubbed his eyes and tried to read the watch on his wrist. Removing the headphones he had confiscated from the kid’s bedroom in this house to help him sleep, he could once again hear the muffled thunder and rumbling outside.

  Akram kneeled beside Haider, realizing the man was still dazed from sleep deprivation: “sir, a convoy from Sargodha has just made it into the city. They have something that you need to see right now!”

  Akram’s tone struck Haider. He had known Akram a long time and this tone was reserved for only grim situations. Haider instantly rotated himself off the bed. A series of flashes from some artillery strike to the east provided just the illumination he needed: “all right, major. Let’s go.”

  The two men walked out of the bedroom of the apartment that now served as a rest area for Haider’s command-staff. They tiptoed around the various sleeping bags sprawled around. It never ceased to amaze Haider how his men could sleep with all that was happening around them in this besieged city. But sleep deprivation and exhaustion put even the most scared individuals to sleep.

  One floor below, the radios were alive with chatter as men rushed back and forth. Signs of exhaustion and fear were written on their faces as the battles to the east invariably brought bad news. The question on everyone’s mind, Haider saw, was how long before it was all over?

  Haider wasn’t as worried, however. The bottom-line was that there were more jihadists inside Lahore than the Indians could possibly kill. And while he agreed that the lack of formal military training in the cadres of the mujahedeen ensured that the losses in manpower were colossal, the general effect it had on the Indian forces was worse. The momentum of the Indian army had been drained. The regular Pakistani troops were doing what they could and providing flanking security, logistics and indirect fire-support, but the main resistance were the holy warriors willing to strap explosives around their waist and run into an Indian tank. The Indians were being forced to level each and every building in order to advance. And that was unsustainable.

  Haider had to concede that eventually the city would collapse. Once the flanking Indian columns north and south of the city met up to the west, they would choke off all logistics to the city. And then the battle would be lost. He hoped that the war would be over by then. After all, how long could I
ndia resist the international pressure to declare a ceasefire?

  Haider followed Akram out of the apartment and into the cold winds raging through the streets, carrying the smell of blood and spent ammunition. He spat out the taste in his mouth and then followed Akram towards a group of soldiers standing by their parked trucks, down the road. Haider saw some M113 armored-personnel-carriers, some jeeps and a large group of soldiers gathering their weapons and equipment. Moonlight reflected off the shiny metal of the vehicles in the otherwise dark street. One of the officers conferring in a group saw Akram and Haider approaching and saluted.

  Haider returned the salute and then cocked an eyebrow to Akram, who took the cue: “sir, these are reinforcements from the 6TH Armored Division at Gujranwala. They were sent here to bolster our defenses on orders from army command.”

  Haider was surprised at that. He looked at the new faces and then back to Akram: “You woke me up for this?”

  “No, sir,” Akram replied. “It’s what these men have brought with them that I woke you up. Come with me.” He walked past the assembled men to the special trucks parked farther down the convoy. Haider followed, in turn being followed by the new officers. Haider saw the trucks marked with ambulance signs on their sides and top. But the large number of well-equipped soldiers standing nearby pointed to something much more sinister…

  Akram got up into the back of the lead “ambulance” and folded the flap over the top. Inside were specially marked containers that Haider knew only too well. In fact, he had handed one exactly like these to Muzammil a month ago…

  “What the hell is this? What is going on here?” Haider turned to the assembled officers, all of whom were shaken by the thunderous outbreak of the General. “Who is in charge of this convoy? And where did you get these warheads?”

  One of the young captains gathered the courage to speak: “that would be Brigadier Rashid Minhas, sir. He was attached to our convoy along with these vehicles by headquarters, 6TH Armored.”

  “And where the hell is the Brigadier?” Haider thundered.

  “He’s dead.” Akram said flatly as he jumped from the bed of the truck on to the tar road. “Killed in an airstrike on the convoy thirty kilometers north of the city. This,” he waved at the trucks and the convoy, “is all that made it. It is hard to get anything into the city anymore without it being mauled by Indian airstrikes.”

  Haider sighed and considered the situation. He removed his helmet and ran his hand through the white hair.

  “Akram,” he said, putting the helmet on, “get this cargo away from these trucks and this open road as soon as possible. There is no telling when we might get hit again. And for god’s sake disperse those armored vehicles. Don’t send them into battle to the east. We may need them intact soon enough. I am going to make some calls. Understood?”

  Akram nodded and waved to the other officers nearby who sprang to life. As vehicle engines rumbled to life, Haider fixed his helmet chin strap and walked back forcefully towards his command center. Once inside, he walked up to Saadat: “get me General Hussein. Now!”

  Saadat turned around in surprise and then picked up his radio comms. As he went through the motions, Haider considered his thoughts. First and foremost on his mind was to determine what Hussein was planning. Minhas was Hussein’s right-hand man. At least he had been, Haider corrected himself. If Minhas was involved, it meant Hussein was involved. Considering the cargo at hand, it wasn’t that acute a deduction, of course. But why now? Yes, the war was going bad for the Pak army. Yes, the situation out here was dire. But that bad? Had they run out of all other options?

  “General Hussein’s headquarters on the line, sir.” Saadat said as he handed the speaker to Haider.

  Haider was blunt as he spoke into the speaker: “what are you doing?” He waved Saadat and the others out.

  “What am I doing? I am trying to win the war. I take it that Minhas has filled you in?” Hussein replied.

  “Minhas is dead.” Haider said flatly. “Died in an airstrike while fighting his way into the city.” There was no sympathy in Haider’s voice. “So I guess we will never know what he had to say. You might as well fill me in.”

  “I rather not,” Hussein replied. “At least not over these comms. Minhas was supposed to fill you in on the plan. I take it that at least some of his cargo arrived intact or else you wouldn’t have been calling me right now?”

  Haider took a deep breath. “It did. What the hell do you want me to do with it? We are holding this city. Send me more men and supplies instead!”

  “The city is lost and you know it.” Hussein replied fatalistically. “If not today or tomorrow, then the day after.”

  “And I disagree.” Haider countered. “I can hold.”

  “You don’t get it. It’s not about whether we hold this city or not. It’s about what the Indians will do to the city when they realize they cannot take it. And then what we will do to them in return. Are you following? If we use first, we are all dead.”

  We already used the nukes on Mumbai! Haider checked his words. He knew what the words meant and if this conversation ever leaked to the outside world, the outrage would be uncontrollable. The world community would just stand back and let the Indians turn this country into a radioactive wasteland. No, the Indians had to be seen to be the ones who used the first nuclear warheads in the war. Mumbai would remain a terrorist strike in the eyes of the world. And if the Indians attacked Lahore first with nuclear warheads, then Pakistan would have to respond. With all its might. The losses incurred by the Indians in Mumbai and outside of Lahore would be enough plausible reason for New Delhi to resort to nuclear weapons, no?

  What was it about believing a lie when it was shouted enough times? Haider understood finally what Hussein was saying. And his resistance to it was futile. The decision had already been made. That he had been forced into the sidelines by his own inner circle was a question that still simmered in his mind, but it would have to wait. His next questions were more practical: “when?”

  “Tomorrow.” Hussein replied. “Indian tanks have reached the outskirts of Rahim Yar Khan and are poised to advance towards the N-5. We are attempting to stop them. If we do sap their strength, you will receive my abort orders.”

  “And if not?” Haider said as he sat down.

  “Then do what you must do for this nation, my friend. Remember Allah’s promise to his warriors after they reach the heavens!”

  “Spare that for the mujahedeen!” Haider cut in forcefully, and then checked his words: “but I will do what I must. Out.”

  As he placed the speaker back on its holder, he remained lost in thought. He walked outside the room and nodded to Saadat and Akram, who had arrived back. As the comms people rushed back into the room to take up their stations, Akram stood with crossed arms: “well, sir?”

  Haider rubbed his hands on his facial stubble and then shook his head. The situation was so unbelievable even to his mind. He walked past them and left the room. Akram and Saadat looked at each other and then followed him out.

  ──── 33 ────

  The phone rang on the bedside table several times before Wencang got to it. He shuffled across the quilts and switched on the lights before picking the it up.

  “Yes?” He cleared his throat and went for the glass of water nearby. “General Chen on the line for you, sir. He says it is extremely urgent.”

  “Put him through.” Wencang drank the water as the secure comms encryption made noises and connected to the operations center at the CMC. A few moments later Chen’s voice came online over the background noise of his operations center.

  “You need to get up here right now! I am sending a car!”

  “Pakistan?” Wencang said as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

  “Yes.” Chen replied.

  “What the hell are they up to now?” Wencang said as the doors to his bedroom opened and his orderlies walked in with his uniform and some medicines.

  “I would rathe
r not say over the phone.” Chen replied. “How soon can you get here?”

  Wencang looked at his watch and then at the pressed uniform laid out on his bed: “I will be there in twenty minutes. Give me a summary.”

  “Very well. We just got a message from Hussein via the Pakistani military attaché here asking us to get our people out of Gwadar and other places in Pakistan. Whoever is left.”

  Wencang jerked wide awake at that. That message meant only one thing…

  “I will be there in fifteen minutes. Increase readiness for our combat forces! Warn the air-force and naval commands that a forced evacuation through the Indian blockade for our citizens may be required. I want plans and options by the time I get there.”

  “Yes sir. I have the command staff coming up with our options already. Twenty minutes?” Chen asked.

  “Is it doable, Chen?” Wencang asked.

  “In the midst of a shooting war on such short notice? I don’t think so.” Chen replied, his voice laced with anger. “This warning is not much and Hussein knows it. He just wants to cover his ass! That son of a bitch!”

  “Indeed,” Wencang added grimly. “They are certainly in a desperate situation, aren’t they? He knows that if he gave us enough warning, we would act on it and the Indians would see it exactly for what it was and prepare themselves. This way, there will be no warning whatsoever. The real question is whether we should play along and risk what military people we have in Pakistan or try and get them out.”

  “A difficult choice.” Chen added.

  “Is it, my friend?” Wencang continued. “Is it really a hard choice? If the net result of our inaction is the unleashing of full-scale nuclear war against our enemies, isn’t the lives of a few of our men worth it? This is what they signed up for, after all! We all signed up for this job. Considering the lives lost in the great war three years ago, what’s a few more?”

  Chen remained silent on that. It was not his call. His concerns for his people, he kept in check.