Chimera

by Vivek Ahuja

  “Ah! You made it back, Misra. Good,” Potgam said with a genuine smile on his face. “What’s the situation up near Barshong?”

  “Could be better, sir.” Misra replied as he walked over to the map board near the table. He pointed to the valley north of Dotanang: “We are making progress but the roads here are not suited for vehicles. We have to walk all the way now to the objective.”

  Potgam nodded at the board as he understood what the Colonel was telling him before looking back at Misra:

  “We need to take the objective at Barshong and terminate the presence of the Highland Division in Bhutan quickly. We have reports that the Chinese 15TH Airborne Corps is arriving via ground transport to Lhasa and Gyantse. Their three Divisions will be used to beef up the two decimated Chinese Divisions in the Chumbi valley as well as what remains of this Highland Division in northwestern Bhutan.”

  “That will make it pretty nasty for us out here,” Misra added.

  “Exactly,” Potgam agreed. “The only way we can nullify the arrival of the enemy paratroopers is to remove their staging area at Barshong. Of course, the way things are going, I don’t think this war will last long enough for the arrival of the enemy paratroopers to make a difference. Barshong is the last major point of resistance for the Highland Division forces in northwestern Bhutan. Once they are defeated, we will hold and secure. In the meantime General Dhillon is launching his counteroffensive in eastern Bhutan with support from IV Corps to wrench territory from the only other relatively intact brigade of the Highland Division there. Your major threat here after the capture of Barshong is going to be missile strikes. Tell your men to dig in hard out there and spread out. Other than that Thimpu will likely not face further Chinese ground offensives. There is no momentum left at their end in Tibet to do anything anymore.”

  Potgam sighed and then moved away from the board to pick up his peak cap laying on the table, before continuing:

  “And New-Delhi agrees with this assessment. So do the Bhutanese. Hence the bullshit you saw outside. The government thinks that it is time the media saw what was happening in Bhutan. They have been allowed to reach Thimpu but not anywhere else.”

  Misra had a frown on his face which Potgam saw and chuckled.

  “If it makes you feel any better,” he added, “even I had no choice on the matter. Orders are to smile and wave at the cameras whenever we get caught on them. Maintaining national morale and all that. Oh, and another thing: all those journalists outside with their cameras are here in preparation for something that should be happening,” Potgam checked his watch, “right about now. Come on.”

  Potgam put his cap on and walked to the door. The three officers walked back down the stairs and saw most of the Bhutanese government officials walking the same way with a lot of excitement.

  Once outside, the helicopter noise increased as an IAF AW-101 helicopter flared for landing and touched down on the helipad. The rotor downwash threw up the light snow and dead grass from the lawns into the air. The doors opened and a Wing-Commander stepped out in his green flight-suit.

  Behind him the exited the King of Bhutan.

  As the mass of Bhutanese officials and civilians pushed forward to meet with his Highness, Potgam shared a look with Misra. The King spoke with the media amidst a barrage of flashes from the cameras and the flurry of questions thrown at him. But when the King waved them to calm down, they all became silent. The King poised himself to speak.

  “I would like to extend my eternal gratitude to India and her soldiers for what they have done for my kingdom and its people. It is a debt that is not payable in words, so we will try it through our actions. The battle for Bhutan is not yet over and some tracts of land still remain occupied by Chinese forces. But they will be defeated just as their attempt to take this capital city. My family and I were forced to evacuate in the middle of the night ten days ago when this city lost its power and was under threat of falling to the Chinese. That threat still exists to some level. But my place is here with the Bhutanese people in this time of crisis. And here is where I shall stay,” the King concluded.

  As the flurry of questions from the media instantly resumed, the King smiled and walked away. He headed to the stairs where Potgam and Misra were standing with the other officers. Potgam saw the look on Misra’s face and understood his thoughts. All of this was new to him, least of all given the uncertain battles being fought north of here.

  It is a very strange war… Potgam thought as he walked up to shake the King’s hand.

  day 13

  JUNWEI KONGJUN

  BEIJING

  DAY 13 + 0030 HRS

  “What happened out there?” Chen thundered as he slammed open the door of the conference room. Feng, Li and the junior officers turned away from the discussions they were having. Chen looked at Li and the others.

  “Get out!” he ordered.

  As the men walked out sheepishly, leaving papers and other documents on the table, Chen stared at Feng silently until he heard the door close behind him.

  “Well, Senior-Colonel?” Chen asked pointedly, choosing to stay formal with his protégé.

  “We delivered as asked for, sir.” Feng replied calmly and removed his reading glasses. “The 55TH Fighter Regiment did what they were ordered. The Indian AEW over southern Tibet is dead and so are their fighter patrols. The Indians have withdrawn all air patrols south while they consolidate their forces and lick their wounds. Punitive-Dragon did all it was supposed to do! The skies over the battlefield are neutral again!”

  “At the cost of thirty-three frontline heavy fighters!” Chen shouted, making Feng flinch under the force of his voice. “Only fifteen of our pilots have been recovered alive! The regiment commander is dead and so is that unit! What are you doing to my air-force?”

  Feng frowned at the insinuation. He put his glasses into his shirt pocket after folding them as he considered his words.

  “I am doing my duty!” Feng replied forcefully. “The 19TH Division was untested in combat and the Indians had their battle-hardened crews over southern Tibet. I told you and General Wencang that I had concerns about their inexperience! Had the times been different, I would have committed them to battle in smaller groups under controlled conditions so that combat experience could seep in gradually. But we are out of time! The Indians were already aggressively patrolling the skies over southern Tibet and venturing even over central Tibet. We showed them that we are not to be taken lightly! I had to order the regiment in as one force. There was no other way to break through to their AEW aircraft!”

  Chen was seething with anger and Feng saw his fist with whitened knuckles. He was using every bit of self-control to restrain himself. He sighed and unclenched his fists…

  “What now?” Chen asked as he rubbed his eyes and looked through the glass to see the operations staff busy at work outside. Feng removed his glasses from his pocket again and walked over to pick up some satellite imagery from the table. He realized his heart was pounding.

  “Well, I…”

  Feng was interrupted midsentence as the doors slammed open once again and this time Generals Liu and Wencang walked in followed behind by Colonel Dianrong. Chen turned around.

  “What is this?”

  “This,” Liu said menacingly, “is what I am forced to do when I am told that we lost over thirty fighters in a single air battle against the Indians! I thought I needed to talk a stroll into your little paradise over here and figure out if you have decided to turn over this war to the Indians intentionally!”

  “That’s quite enough!” Wencang said authoritatively before turning to Chen and Feng. “Where is the commander of the 55TH Fighter Regiment?”

  “He’s dead, sir,” Feng replied.

  “Is he now?” Liu observed, sounding almost disappointed. Feng clenched his hands into a fist behind his back but checked his words.

  “Yes sir. He died fighting. By all accounts he fought courageously and with determination. Our airborne-radar crews con
firmed that he was the one who brought down the enemy airborne-command and control aircraft over northern Bhutan. He was shot down while disengaging from battle. The Indians were determined to kill him after what he had done! They pursued and eliminated his aircraft over Shigatse.”

  “The man should be given a medal!” Wencang said finally. His tone implied that this was an order. Even Liu mumbled some expletive but otherwise nodded.

  “And he will be. See to it, Feng,” Chen ordered calmly.

  “So what now?” Liu grunted.

  “We pushed the Indians back from the skies above Lhasa,” Wencang observed. “They know now what we will not tolerate. Maybe it’s time to end this war while we still retain the tools to make that assertion!”

  “End the war on India’s terms?” Liu noted with fatalism. “Not possible! You have other Fighter Divisions in Jining and Beijing regions. I will get the C-M-C to authorize their release to the unified-MRAF. That should replace your losses. But don’t commit these units to battle! Make sure the Indians know we have them. That will keep them on their toes while we make arrangements to force an end to this war on our terms.”

  “The Indians cannot win a battle of attrition with us,” Feng noted in approval of Liu. Chen and Wencang to give him a sharp look.

  “Neither can we, based on your loss statistics!” Wencang retorted.

  “It won’t come to that,” Liu speculated confidently. “Punitive-Dragon was a massive lash from our side on the enemy air forces to remind them what our strengths are. In that it has achieved its goals despite our heavy losses. We now have to show them the same boundaries on the ground. Once these lines are drawn, they will be forced to admit that conventional land offensives into Tibet will get them nowhere. And that will force them to the negotiating table!”

  OVER THE MALACCA STRAIT

  DAY 13 + 0800 HRS

  The six Su-30s pulled up above the clouds and climbed to thirty-thousand feet. The cloudy environ was instantly replaced with bright sunlight and blue skies above as the fighters moved above the cloud floor below. The twelve pilots and WSOs squinted against the bright light and began lowering their helmet visors. They also noticed the sunlight glinting off the fuselage of the two Il-78s further south, trailing four long, white condensation trails at high altitude…

  The tankers had lifted off thirty minute prior to give them a head start. The Sukhoi pilots appreciated them as they caught up. They knew how thinly spread the miniscule IAF tanker fleet, concentrated into No. 78 Squadron, really was. These two birds had been pulled off the squadron roster for this mission from Kalaikunda the day before and had flown down to the Andaman Islands over the night.

  The presence of these two aircraft here meant that the Eastern Air Command had only one available dedicated tanker for the rest of the day today till these two aircraft returned. That one tanker would only be able to refuel mission-critical aircraft such as the Phalcon and the last surviving CABS AEW operating from Kalaikunda. To the Su-30 pilots of the No. 18 ‘Flying Bullets’ squadron, it was an indication of the importance attached to this operation by the IAF high command.

  The six aircraft pulled up alongside and got a friendly wave from the cockpits of the tankers who were just as happy to see their escorts. The crews of the eight aircraft settled into the flight and had seven hours of boredom ahead while the war continued to rage on the mainland they were leaving behind.

  BEIJING

  CHINA

  DAY 13 + 1130 HRS

  “Ah, welcome General!” Liu extended his hand to Lieutenant-General Rashid Mahmoud as he and his entourage walked down the corridor to Liu’s peacetime office inside the building. General Mahmoud shook his hands as Liu waved him into the office. Colonel Dianrong closed the door behind the two men, leaving the rest of the officers outside. Liu got down to business after waving Mahmoud to the sofa in the room.

  “Mahmoud, I am going to come straight to the point here because time is very short and my presence is needed elsewhere as well. I hope you understand.”

  “Of course, sir,” Mahmoud said with a nod.

  “Excellent. Now, in calling for this meeting on behalf of President Peng, I am hoping to fill you in on the developments taking place with our operations against India and where your country might come into the picture,” Liu stated flatly.

  Mahmoud was not surprised by that last sentence. He knew fully well what this was about. He had been posted to Beijing as the liaison between the Chinese military and his own ever since Beijing had revealed its plans for India two months ago at the height of the Tibet crisis. He was in charge of maintaining the smooth flow of information between the two nations and their military…

  “I want to start by stating that Pakistan’s assistance during this crisis has not gone unnoticed here in Beijing. In helping us bring India to her knees as well as terminating their aggressive stance in Tibet, the Pakistani government has validated its credentials of all-weather friendship. And for that we are grateful. Your aircraft continue to provide us with valuable airborne radar coverage and signals information over Kashmir and Ladakh and your intelligence agencies have passed volumes of data on Indian military movements throughout their country. But now we need to deliver the killing blow,” Liu said and then paused to let Mahmoud grasp the essence of what was being stated.

  Mahmoud was no fool. One of the advantages of offering the PAF’s airborne-radar and signals data was that he, and by extension Rawalpindi, was fully aware of where the war really was…

  And now they want to drag us into this sinking quagmire!

  “I am not sure I follow, Liu.” Mahmoud said after consideration. “What exactly is Beijing prepared to offer us in return?”

  “We are prepared to offer your government the opportunity to end a continued threat from India once and for all. A joint strike against Indian forces in Kashmir and elsewhere now that they are already weakened will allow your forces to retake the Kashmir valley quickly and allow China to take back the eastern territories that it has allowed to stay under Indian control for the last sixty years. Its time India was shown its real place in the subcontinent!” Liu said grandly. Mahmoud nodded physically but his thoughts lay elsewhere.

  Sure. Why not? Let’s all indulge in our fantasies while we are at it!

  “General Liu, I will pass this offer to Rawalpindi and Islamabad but I am unsure where our own capabilities are at this point to deal with India. The Taliban menace gripping our nation is already taxing the army’s capabilities to…” Mahmoud was interrupted mid-sentence by Liu.

  “Am I to understand that you are refusing Beijing’s offer?”

  “Not at all. I am not authorized to make any such statements. But I am preparing you for what will undoubtedly follow. Let’s face facts here. This war is not going as you had planned for. Yes, India is weakened, but more so are your forces in Tibet. Your only recourse at this point is nuclear ballistic-missiles. Under these circumstances, where is the time for a conventional buildup of Pakistani land forces? And then there is the question of the Indian armored forces that are basically un-blooded in this war and are straining at the leash to be let loose. Since they cannot do that because of terrain, they will willingly do so with us if we joined the war. Such a massive ground engagement is beyond Pakistan’s ability. The way I see it, the only way we can contribute anything is via a combined nuclear missile strike. And that decision will have to come from Islamabad and Rawalpindi. But if a nuclear exchange is the only recourse left, I think you are already equipped for it even without Pakistan’s involvement…”

  WEST OF BARSHONG

  NORTHERN BHUTAN

  DAY 13 + 1540 HRS

  The first sounds he heard above the ringing in his ears were the desperate screams of the soldiers running by. He coughed and spat out blood along with the dirt. After several seconds of staring at the blood slowly seeping into the crisp white snow in front of him, he got up on his knees using his hands. Dirt and dust fell off his digital-camo uniform as he sat strai
ght and stared above.

  The cold winds were still whipping his body, but he felt this immense heat from around him. He turned around to see the trees on fire and uprooted from the ground further down the slope. That was where a column of smoke was rising into the darkening sky above. He did turn his head up to see the blue sky there with white puffy clouds…

  Suddenly his body became weak again.

  He fell down on his hands and used them to prevent himself from falling forward. He took deep breaths to fill out his lungs after the air in them had been sucked out by the pressure waves. His hearing started to come back as he realized that he was beginning to hear the howl of the winds and the rumble of fires.

  He looked at his headquarters down the slope, a few hundred yards from him.

  What used to be my headquarters anyway… he corrected himself as he saw other soldiers further down writhing in pain and screaming for help. Others staggered around looking for their comrades.

  He was lucky and he knew it. Had he not been away inspecting the ridges east of the village when the Indian artillery rockets had rained down on his headquarters, he might have been scattered all over the slope like the rest of his men here.

  How did they locate it so efficiently?

  He did not have time to answer that one. He heard the distant rumble of whipping noises that seemed very familiar to him. Of course they did. They were made by Mi-17 helicopters. He looked around and saw his men running around, grabbing their weapons. His mind ran through the analysis.

  Approaching Mi-17s! Friendly?

  He looked to the west towards the silhouetted eastern slopes of the Chomolhari and realized that the whipping noises did not emanate from the west, where friendly forces were in the Chumbi valley.