by Frank Perry
see the ridge of the mountain ahead. He yelled to Blomstein, “Steady yourself buddy, this thing’s landing.”
The pilot wanted to give the riders some notion of her plans, so she crossed the ridgeline just above the treetops trying to gage her best options. At the OC, the plot had changed back to a thermal picture.
Beyond the ridge, the trees were short evergreens, fairly uniform in height. So the pilot skimmed over several trees until she found a dense cluster close to the LZ. She flew at it to be sure the passengers could see what was ahead. Peter was alert, and he hoped Blomstein was also. At least Blomstein was still holding on.
The pilot added power and flew over the cluster before banking to the right in a wide gentle circle. As she lined up with the trees again, she raised the nose to stall attitude and flew the plane almost on its tail at the cluster. The ground speed was only thirty miles per hour at impact as the plane stalled.
The pilot timed things perfectly, killing the engine as the plane hit the trees. The small pines bent with the blow and both men were thrown forward, crashing through small branches to the ground below.
The aircrew and Stokes were there in seconds helping them. Both were alive, but Blomstein was unconscious. Peter was alert and able to stand after a few moments. The Crew chief yelled, “We’ve got to go now! Hurry!”
Everyone was aboard the chopper in less than a minute and the big rotors began to spin. Back at the OC, fingers were crossed as everyone felt the sense of a successful mission. Then the PA blared again, “Fighter aircraft preparing for takeoff, Tehran International Airport, estimate wheels up under five minutes.”
Simmons was on the command set again, “Bravo base, release Raptors, repeat release Raptors. ATC will give you vector, acknowledge.”
The OC went quieter for a short time with several console operators engaged in dialogue with unseen counterparts.
The voice over the PA system announced, “Multiple bogies, four o’clock, just lifting off Tehran Airport.”
Simmons took charge, “Rescue One, bogies inbound, you must depart now. Evade. Air cover is on the way, over.”
“Roger that Command. Over.”
As the helicopter lifted off the mountain with everyone aboard, the pilot and copilot double-checked their missile countermeasures. Their only chances of survival, without help, were to avoid detection and use the electronic warfare tools aboard.
At the OC the PA system sounded, “Command, four bogies turning to two-eight-zero degrees and climbing through ten thousand. Speed three-five-zero and accelerating.”
In the mountains, Pave Hawk was accelerating to its top speed, which was dangerous when skimming only feet above the terrain. One small mistake and they would crash. At this speed flying through mountains, it was very difficult for fighters to engage them. Missiles get confused looking downward into rugged ground clutter. For the plane’s fire control system to work effectively, the attackers would have to fly abnormally low through the same terrain, which very few jet pilots could do.
Peter looked after Blomstein. His hip wound was bleeding badly, and the injuries from the crash could have been serious. He applied a battle dressing with pressure and tried to make his friend comfortable. He kept talking to him gently as he held his head and kept his feet elevated. The helicopter was jinxing hard and everyone was tumbling.
At the command center, Simmons watched the displays closely. The Iranian pilots had formed over the mountains and were attempting to look down with sensors into mountain ravines for the invaders. They were not trained for this, but the Iranian President was adamant that they kill the interlopers or die trying.
The lead plane, a MIG 25 equipped with lookdown radar got a momentary lock on a fast moving target in a canyon below. He ordered his flight to follow at long intervals but not to fly below canyon height until he instructed them. He rolled inverted and accelerated toward the canyon. As he leveled out at the canyon top, he pulled the throttles back, extended flaps and landing gear, decelerating below two hundred knots. He settled into the canyon and began using his radar and missile seekers to find the target.
Aboard the helicopter, fuel was a problem, but the pilots were mostly concerned about the enemy aircraft. There had been momentary radar warnings in the cockpit. Then, the missile-warning receiver squawked continuously. The warning went from detection mode to homing mode quickly, and the pilot said, “Shit! The guy’s right on our ass, the missile went to high PRF immediately! Fire chaff, fire flares.”
As the helicopter spewed foil bags and phosphor flares, the command pilot yanked the stick back hard and rolled left, nearly going inverted before rolling out only feet from the ground. When he pulled out level again, the aircraft vibrated violently as the drive train gave way to stress. It was still able to fly but damaged. The pilots had saved them but destroyed the helicopter in the process.
The Iranian command pilot cursed, “Damned Americans! Such machines!” He had watched two radar-guided missiles explode in the hillside behind the helicopter following the decoys. He switched the controller to guns and wouldn’t miss a second time. As he took aim for the killing shot, his radar-warning receiver screamed. Before he could react, a Slammer missile obliterated his airplane. The F22 Raptor had fired from fifteen thousand feet above doing over five hundred miles an hour. A second Raptor had engaged all three of the following fighters destroying them. These newest U.S. fighter airplanes had flown at speeds over two thousand miles per hour to get to the fight and would return to base at the same speed, never to be acknowledged over Iranian airspace.
The whole air battle had been seen at the OC, and a huge cheer went up as the last defender in Iran went down.
Homecoming
Rachael had stopped breathing when the missiles were fired at the helicopter. But now she felt the same exuberance as the others. She had learned that Peter was okay. She looked at General Simmons and he smiled back. She wanted to hug him, but that could wait until he was outside the command environment. He had kept his promise.
She left the OC and decided to take the Metro home, screw her fears! Although alert and excited, she was mentally drained and fell asleep on her couch immediately after arriving home. She slept soundly for hours before Peter called. He and Stokes were still in Baghdad and would fly to Germany with Blomstein to the hospital. They would come home together as soon as Josh could travel. She understood and they talked affectionately for several minutes.
A week later, Blomstein was cleared to return to the U.S., but he would need therapy for several weeks. The three men were excited to see their loved ones and didn’t sleep at all during the over-night flight. As the plane landed, all strained to look through the windows to see the people waiting at the terminal. As they exited the plane at Andrews AFB, Peter helped Blomstein down the steps and Stokes carried his gear. At the base of the stairs, Rachael ran to Peter as the other men’s wives did the same. After their long embrace, he said, “Let’s go home.”
“All right, but this time you can drive, since I’m not hauling you off to the hospital!”
He chuckled and threw his bag over his shoulder as they walked to the car. Somehow the homecoming seemed a bit awkward. She was warm and welcoming, but not as affectionate as he had anticipated. The drive back was friendly, but subdued.
That night, as they did the dishes, he said, “Rachael, is there something wrong?”
She paused and stood motionless beside him, peering out the back window without looking at him. “Peter, I think I need some time to think this thing through.” He started to talk when she continued. “Look, when you were gone this time, I went through hell. I was in the OC when you were being chased. It’s a miracle that you survived.” She gripped the counter, “I can’t even express the emotions that shot through me.”
She looked down and seemed to be waiting for a response. Looking at her obliquely, he said quietly, “Rachael, it was real close. When the General told us to drop gear and run for the bird, I felt out of control and my instinct wa
s to stand and fight. We were both cooked and knew it.”
“Peter, this isn’t about reliving the fight, I don’t want to ever think about it again. It’s not relevant to what I’m trying to say.”
Turning to her, he tried to pull her closer, against her will. “Honey, I’m sorry you were scared.”
“That’s still not it! Don’t you get it?” She was upset.
“Rachael, I don’t know what you’re trying to say. Please don’t tell me you don’t love me.”
“Peter, that’s not it, I do love you. It’s only that I went through an emotional collapse that I never want to feel again. That’s the problem. I want to have a normal relationship and not be forced to relive another horror sequence in my life.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think that will happen. This was a situation that got more dangerous than it should have. If we hadn’t been stopped by the police. . .” His words trailed off as she turned away from him and walked toward the living room.
He followed her saying. “Sweetheart, what’s going on? Has something changed with you, with us?”
She turned around to look at him, “Peter, I wasn’t sure about anything until you got home. I’m still not sure. But, I’m not going to go through this again. I love you, I’ll always love you, even if life takes us in separate directions.”
She started to sob, but continued, “I, I didn’t plan any of this tonight and maybe this is all foolish, but my feelings are taking control. I won’t go through this again!”
He tried to console her, placing her face in his hands. “Sweetheart, what can I do? Do you want me to quit the Army? I’ll do whatever you want, just say the word.”
“No. Quitting the Army wouldn’t work. You’d never forgive me.”
“I did it before.”
“No, you didn’t! Not really. You were miserable when you resigned. I didn’t know you then, but I saw how you were in your natural element in Chicago. I’ve seen it on this mission. You thrive on this stuff. Don’t think for a minute that I would want you to give it up. You would never be happy.”
“Rachael, I would do anything for you.”
“No! I won’t let you quit, but I won’t be married to the Army either. Peter, you were in love long before you met me and I’m never going to be number one in your life. I know that now.”
His emotions had been subdued for years, but were coming to the surface as his voice broke. “My love, Rachael, I, I don’t know what to do. I love you more than my life, but you’re backing away from me.”
“No Peter, I’m not backing away from you.” After a moment’s hesitation, “I’m giving you back your freedom. Don’t you know this is hard on me! This is ripping my heart too!” With that she turned to the stairs and jogged up to the bedroom.
He didn’t follow. He was starting to understand how his actions were affecting her. She was right on so many things. Maybe she was right about this.
That night, he gathered his bag and drove to the Army barracks at Ft. Myer checking into the BOQ.
In the coming days, award ceremonies were held in private. Everyone involved in the operation was rewarded, but none of their exploits could be publicized. The CIA was assured that the money would be recovered, and the Iranian Secretary of Security had been the unfortunate victim of a natural gas explosion in his home.
Rachael had come to the military ceremonies and Peter’s reception, and had kissed him on the cheek offering her congratulations. General Simmons briefly tried to mend their relationship, but Rachael didn’t stay long. After she left, Peter spent time with his two comrades and their wives, then left quietly alone. He had been spending all of his evenings alone reflecting on the choices he had made in life, and the only person he had ever dared to love. She had been stronger than he. She understood her own emotions, but he would never rationalize her loss.
She was gone.
XXX End XXX
About the Author
Frank has worked with the military since 1966, first on active duty, then with industry. His background includes military operations, technology and involvement in most of the systems and organizations included in his books. In addition to the military, he has twenty years of experience supplying solutions to Federal, State and Municipal law enforcement involving tactics and equipment. He is currently a consultant in surveillance technologies used for Homeland Security. He lives in coastal New Hampshire. He welcomes comments and ideas/suggestions for new material. Feel free to contact him at: [email protected]