Soon the distant drone of the Antonov heavy-lifter's huge, shoulder-mounted jet engines was heard in the distance. The sound grew louder as the plane approached. The sound became a deafening roar as the winged metallic leviathan appeared, incredibly low over the top of the bluffs, and glided across the chasm that opened beyond, beginning its overflight of the rift valley.
Rempt paid the plane no attention. His eyes followed the computer's tracking window that showed the satellite view of the oncoming aircraft. Above the window, digital readouts showed the Antonov's altitude, course heading, velocity and other statistics. The most important of these numbers to Rempt, however, was the readout whose flashing numerics had begun steadily rolling down toward the zero mark.
Rempt might just as well have kept his eyes on the plane, because the entire procedure was automated and out of his control. When the flashing numerals counted down to zero, an attack sequence was automatically initiated.
High overhead in low earth orbit, the hundreds of power cells that had been charging with current now released the charge into a step-up transformer that increased the voltage by a factor of twenty.
The thousand kilovolts of electromagnetic energy generated by Cerberus began streaming from the projector dish pointing earthward. The EMP projector was in tickle mode, however. The electromagnetic pulse could be unleashed on ground or airborne targets in a variety of modes, some more severe than others. In tickle mode, the main beam was broken up into a series of smaller, less powerful pulses. The intended effect was to compromise, but not permanently damage, the electronic and electrical systems of the target.
The pulses of electromagnetic energy played across the airframe of the Antonov as it entered the airspace above the arid gorge. The precise point along the trajectory of the aircraft at which the pulses would begin to strike had been calculated by earth- and space-based computers so that the Antonov's autopilot, manual control systems, radio and backup systems would fail, yet leave the pilot with enough room to land the plane on the floor of the ravine.
Now, as the scenario played itself out, these calculations made thousands of miles away by shirt-sleeved intelligence staff wired on coffee jags and hunched over computer terminals studying animated simulations of the operation, these calculations in the service of ends that only a handful of individuals with high security clearances knew in full, these calculations were about to become reality.
The Antonov's onboard systems began to fail as the invisible shock waves penetrated its hull, entered the wiring and overloaded integrated circuitry. Inside the cockpit, the navigational screens and gauges began erratically flashing. Emergency backup systems fared no better. The pilot had no choice -- or rather, he was only left with one.
"We are experiencing massive systems failure," he reported over the secure radio, breaking silence in the emergency. "Backup systems are going too. We must land immediately."
In the cockpit of the lead Mi-24 Hind gun ship that had followed the transport plane a half mile behind, the pilot only caught a fraction of the garbled message. But it, and the view through his forward looking infrared head-up display, that showed the huge plane dropping altitude as it struggled to keep its nose up, was enough. The Antonov would need to make an emergency landing. That or crash.
"Damn the luck," Captain Josip Panshin, the pilot, said to his copilot, seated back of him in the elevated weapons system officer's cockpit. "Of all the god-forsaken places to have to land a plane, it's here."
"What do we do about this?" Vanya Petrovsky in helo two put in over the radio net. "This isn't supposed to be happening?"
"We land and call Kharkov for further instructions, that's what we do, Vanya. Don't ask stupid questions. We don't even know if they'll make it down safely at this point. Nothing we can do now except wait and see."
The two Hinds hovered and danced in the black air as their crews watched the spectacle unfolding below them. The Hinds were unaffected by Cerberus, because the space-based EMP projector was capable of focusing on extremely narrow beam widths and precisely tracking its targets. The OPPLAN crafted by nameless operatives in windowless rooms in secret offices on the Washington Beltway did not call for the helos to be disabled.
Another part of the OPPLAN had been crafted specifically for the Hinds, however. That part would be activated soon. In the meantime, the OPPLAN called for the big cargo plane to land safely. Every precaution had been taken to insure that the Russian flight deck crew had enough clearance to accomplish this feat.
Without knowing it, the Antonov's crew carried out its part of the plan almost flawlessly, the pilot putting down the flaps on the still-functional hydraulic controls to yank up the plane's nose and bring it to an emergency landing mere feet from the sheer wall of the cliff face at the opposite end of the gorge.
Once the Antonov was down, the second phase commenced. Small metallic circles positioned along the straps of Rempt's HUD fit close to the temples and crown of the skull, and a projecting flap fit close against the center of his forehead.
There were twin grips at the rear of the tubular weapon that Rempt now positioned in the general direction of the Antonov, and as the two Hinds set down nearby, Rempt activated the weapon by moving a virtual mouse cursor keyed to his eye movement across the visual field of the HUD and clicking the cursor with a double blink on the appropriate button.
Rempt instantaneously felt the weapon vibrate as the amplification circuitry was activated, and a beam of invisible force streamed from the psychotronic projector. The weapon was the end-product of a half century of clandestine research and development. In the early stages of development, only the USSR. had taken the concept seriously, but during the Cold War the US had realized the military potential of psychotronics and pushed to close the gap in the way an earlier generation had closed a nuclear missile gap.
Although the hows and whys of the technology were still poorly understood, enough was known to produce a variety of useful weapon systems, mainly for clandestine warfare. One major difference between psychotronic beams and more conventional beams, such as laser or microwave radiation, is that psychotronic beams cannot be stopped or deflected by any known force or substance.
The projector Rempt fired sent its energies straight through the Antonov's hull, and its effects were immediate. In the same way that the electromagnetic pulse from Cerberus had neutralized the Antonov's electronic systems, so psychotronic attack had unplugged the crew members' brains and central nervous systems. After a few seconds' exposure, the crew sat motionless in their seats, cut off from all experience of the world around them.
Rempt then turned the projector on the two descended Hinds. The weapon produced the identical result on the four crewmen in the double cockpits of the Soviet gun ships. Brain wave analysis by the weapon's remote scanning sensors showed that the targets had been completely overcome by the weaponized force. Rempt then deactivated the weapon and removed the HUD.
"They're out of it," he told Breaux with unconcealed relish. "And, partner, we are going in."
Chapter Nine
Slowly, cautiously, as though approaching a trio of tranquilized prehistoric monsters, the concealed commandos and rebel forces emerged from hiding places amid the crags and crevices of the tableland and moved toward the silent, immobilized aircraft.
The tableau was surreal, yet there it was. Breaux's troops approached with weapons drawn and unsafed.
"Man, they're sure as shit out of it," Sgt. Death commented. "They're like zombies."
"Rempt, how deep are they under?" asked Breaux.
Breaux's squad had surrounded the two choppers and Breaux had opened the cockpit compartment door to peer inside at the pilot.
"Deep as you can get," Rempt answered as he put on a pair of padded leather gloves. "Watch this."
Hauling back and bunching his fist, the spook suddenly launched a savage right directly into the center of the pilot's face. Hot dark blood jetted from the shattered nose.
Breaux grabbed Rempt's h
and and spun him around.
"You do that again and I'll break your jaw, so help me, you sick sonofabitch."
Rempt struggled loose, and his toothy smile returned to his long, lean, Texan's face.
"Don't worry, partner," he told Breaux. "One shot's all I allow myself. But these guys are history anyway, so what's the difference?" Rempt began removing the flight helmets of the first Hind's aircrew.
"It's hard to resist. It's like being on a drug high and thinking you're god, that you can do anything to anybody, but here it's true. I could cut them to pieces and they wouldn't know or feel a thing. Their nervous systems are just -- unplugged's the best word, I guess."
"Rempt," Breaux said, "if this is what war's becoming in the twenty-first century, then I'd just as soon buy the farm right now. What I'm seeing disgusts me."
"Relax, you self-righteous bastard," Rempt said back. "These weapons have been around for decades. They've never been produced for the battlefield and probably never will. There are already secret treaty protocols banning their use. But in the case of covert operations, well, that's another story entirely. In this here sandbox, any game that works, you play."
By now Rempt had removed the first flight helmet, inserted a thin charge of plastic explosive and a microminiature remote detonator, and placed the helmet back onto the pilot's head.
"This poor bastard's all done," he announced, after wiping away the blood. He'd probably come out of it without even a sore nose. "Now let's take good care of the second pilot."
Rempt turned and walked off into the darkness toward the other downed gun ship.
▪▪▪▪▪▪
Meanwhile other members of the force were conducting their part of the operation at the downed Antonov. Here too, the flight crew was completely immobilized, although there was no attempt made to tamper with any of the personnel as Rempt had done to the crew of the Hind.
On the contrary, the attention of the force was given over to the palleted and lashed-down cargo that had been carried onboard the huge heavy lift transport aircraft. Squads of specially equipped SFOD-O personnel swarmed over the crash-landed Soviet aircraft, some devoting their attention to the exterior hull, others entering the plane's cavernous interior.
The detail that went into the plane immediately set up generator-powered high-intensity lamps that lit the Antonov's cargo bay in a bright, hard glare. While they unshipped videocams and set about recording the specifics of the war materials that were stowed onboard the transport out of Kharkov, those stationed outside in the cold and darkness were treated to the eerie spectacle of ghost lights gleaming from within the crash-landed jet.
While the videocam crews swept through the Coaler's cargo area, technicians went to work on the lashed, palleted and crated payload onboard the heavy lifter. These crews were equipped with NBC agent detectors and precision tools of various types. Crates were opened and the cargo carefully video-recorded, some components removed where necessary.
In the case of the heavy caliber artillery tubes that were lashed down the length of the Antonov's cavernous cargo area, these were uncrated and then subjected to a metallurgical sampling procedure. A specially modified drill was used to extract a few millimeters of metal from the tube casings, then the tubes were re-crated and lashed into their original positions.
By the time the operation at the Antonov's landing site was completed, the squad operating on and in the vicinity of the two immobilized Hind helicopter gunships had already finished up its work. The area around the Hinds had been carefully and thoroughly sanitized of all human presence, and the special forces personnel prepared to withdraw back into concealment at the base and summit of the bluffs prior to commencement of the second phase of operations.
▪▪▪▪▪▪
Rempt was back behind the projector, this time inducing the reverse of the neural paralysis that had disabled the Soviet aircrew at the bottom of the gorge. Other elements of the covert mission unit monitored the ostensibly secure radio frequencies used for communications between the helos and the transport plane, using a duplicate made from Soviet radio equipment captured or copied during other missions.
Still others, including Breaux, watched intently through night observation devices as the Soviets returned to normal consciousness, albeit with no recollection of what had taken place in the approximate two hours during which the operation had been conducted.
All clocks onboard the Hinds had been reset to only a few seconds after the time that the helos had set down on the sandy floor of the ravine. The Mi-24s' systems, unlike those of the Antonov, had not been subjected to electromagnetic pulse attack, and so had remained undamaged. The covert ops technical squad onboard the Antonov had confirmed that its onboard clock had been permanently disabled, while its radio gear, which was specially hardened against EMP effect, remained functional.
Among the aftereffects of the induced neural incapacitation was no memory of missing time for those affected. The Hind aircrew, and the Antonov flight crew, both believed that they had set their aircraft down only moments before.
"Juliet Bravo, this is X-Ray Lima One. Report your status please."
The pilot of the lead chopper had radioed the crashed Antonov, requesting its crew to state its condition.
"X-Ray Lima One, we have experienced massive systems failure of unknown origin which has crippled our navigational and propulsion systems. We retain marginal systems function, including radio and satcom. Fortunately, the crew seems unhurt."
"I copy, Juliet Bravo," said the Hind flight leader. "Do you believe that the aircraft can be made operational again so that a takeoff can be attempted?"
"Negative," replied the Antonov's pilot. "The plane not only sustained systems damage, but damage to the airframe on landing, including nose-gear. This bird isn't going anywhere."
"I copy," said the gun ship pilot. "In that case we must fall back on our emergency instructions," he went on. "Am I correct that you have no injured requiring medical evacuation assistance?"
"Yes. We can all make it under our own power. Have you enough room onboard?"
"We'll manage," replied the helo pilot, glad at least that the capacious Hinds were as much troop transport as gun ship. "How soon can you evacuate? The damned dushman -- hill bandits -- might have seen something and start nosing around. The sooner we leave the better."
"I have already begun to evacuate. As soon as we destroy code books I and my copilot will follow. Out."
The Soviets aboard the two Hind gun ships could already see crew members exiting from the Antonov. Fortunately there were not many personnel aboard this flight for security and other reasons. Also fortunately, the big gun ships had a great deal of extra carrying capacity.
The lead pilot checked his flight manifest, quickly punching calculations into the onboard computer for the increased rate of fuel consumption due to the extra weight the two helos would have to carry all the way to Kharkov. He nodded as he saw that there would be a slim but acceptable margin for safety, even enough to compensate for some additional delay in flight time.
As the pilot continued to watch the rest of the Antonov aircrew emerge from the stricken plane, he made further calculations, which showed that the helos would be well inside Soviet airspace before their fuel reserves had run two-thirds dry.
Here too the results looked encouraging. The new Hinds were equipped for air-to-air refueling. Immediately upon reentering Soviet airspace, he would radio for a fuelbird to meet the inbound flight and refill their tanks. The plan seemed workable.
He informed his frontseater -- like many combat helos, including the US Cobra, the pilot sat behind and above the weapons systems officer -- of the good news over helo interphone and again broke radio silence to inform his wingman.
Knowing that further radio communications would be necessary to coordinate the liftoff anyway, he also informed the wingman of what needed to be done per the emergency evacuation plan.
The helos would take on their passenger load and
then lift off. At their translation altitude of approximately sixty feet, the helos would move into attack formation and fire rocket salvos down into the Antonov, reducing it and its cargo to burning wreckage.
They would then get the hell out of there as fast as possible, knowing that the dushman would certainly come to investigate after that, if they were not on their way already.
▪▪▪▪▪▪
In darkness and silence, the hidden forces waited and watched. Breaux had been assured by Rempt that the indigenous fighters, the Peshmerga, the Mujahideen, and the other categories of rebels, guerillas and true-believers, had been put in their place and would not panic.
To make sure of this, the Breaux's forces had divested their mostazafin allies of all rocket launchers prior to moving out to the Elburz. Breaux still had strong misgivings about permitting them to be in on the mission at all, no matter what Rempt's assurances.
They were loose cannons, all of them, stoned on religion or hashish or Marxism or the revolutionary flavor of the week. Still, they hadn't yet made a false move, and it would all be over soon.
Breaux turned his full attention to the activities taking place at the flat, sandy floor of the steep-walled gorge. The main rotors of the Hind gun ships were dishing now, as the last of the evacuated Antonov aircrew got onboard the two attack helos. They remained stationary as final preparations, including a last-minute flight check, were conducted.
And then, almost in tandem, the two heavily-laden helicopters rose sluggishly up off the valley floor and straight up into the air.
Breaux glanced sidelong at Rempt as the Hinds reached their translation altitudes and then changed the rotor pitch to move slightly apart, pivoting their noses in the direction of the downed airframe.
As Breaux had expected, Rempt's face was again transfigured by a form of twisted rapture, the mouth contorted into a strange, rictus-like smile, the eyes focused on the screen of the battlefield computer station as Rempt's hands hovered over the tactical computer's keyboard.
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