The Big Blue Sky: Twelve

The Pave Lows took off separately. They dropped low, nearly to sea level, and swung north, using the ships for cover. Ten minutes later they rendezvoused north of the group before turning southeast, running hard and fast for the coast. West of Hendurabi Island, a featureless patch of sand, the Pave Lows corrected course once more, charging strait for the coast.

Everyone aboard felt the sudden lurch as the Pave Lows crested the ridge. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, the AK tracers and the ghost-white trails of RPGs rushed up from the valley. Even John McCallister, a man familiar with the fever and confusion of war, was stunned by the Iranian response.

There wasn’t time for thought, let alone reaction. McCallister would torture himself about not calling immediately for a fast retreat, but there simply wasn’t time. Almost instantly two rockets hammered the lead chopper, like a prize fighter taking a roundhouse punch. Swinging sideways, it turned over in mid air before breaking up. The pieces tumbled independent of one another throwing wreckage and bodies across the desert floor. McCallister’s response now was immediate and unequivocal.

“Abort!” he shouted to the other remaining Pave Low, breaking radio silence as a fat olive RPG round sliced a smoky trail right through the open bay doors, missing several men by mere inches. It seemed to underscore the Iranians knew exactly where the American intruders were. The narrow miss brought astonished and horrified looks from his well seasoned team.

Beside him, the door gunner opened up with a .50 caliber, slamming rounds at unseen targets below. Bullets chopped at the fuselage as the ship began a hard turn. The co-pilot howled in pain as a round smashed upwards through his foot, shattering bone before emerging from his thigh.

“Abort now!” McCallister cried once more, a moment too late.

He watched helpless as a rocket ripped away the tail rotor of the third ship. The Pave Low spun wildly in a rapid death spiral to the desert floor. In a final desperate act to save the men in back, the pilot brought the ship down nose first crushing he and the co-pilot instantly.

McCallister screamed in anger as the survivors spilled out onto the ground. He ordered the pilot to turn back despite the withering storm of fire coming up from the desert. But the pilot was already well into the turn, bent on avenging the deaths of men that were dearer to him than family.

They came in low, ignoring the fire directed almost exclusively against them now. The survivors on the ground, were already taking up defensive positions around the wreckage. Two hundred yards north a line of Iranian regulars advanced on the downed chopper. The remaining Pave Low chewed through the line with stunning accuracy. The clanging of the Fifty Caliber was punctuated by the earth shattering bang of rockets blasting the Iranian line.

But it only seemed to focus the resolve of the Iranians to bring down the remaining helicopter. It was suicide to remain in the fight, and would serve nothing to save the survivors below.

“Sir,” the pilot’s voice cracked with emotion of the intercom. In the background the co=pilot screamed in agony. “”I’m breaking off!”

McCallister knew it was pointless to remain any longer as they passed over the survivors now trading shots as the Iranian cordon tightened steadily around them. Despite the murderous fire McCallister leaned precariously from the bay desperate for one final glimpse of his beleaguered men. As the ship climbed the ridge, rushing for the open sea, McCallister wished a bullet had found its mark to spare him the shame and anguish he now suffered. Abandoning his men, which is precisely how he took it, was a fate crueler than any death.

There was more fire from the coast as the Pave Low streaked out over the sea. Two F-18s buzzed the coast, going to after burners. The resulting sonic booms exploded windows for miles, ruptured water pipes and shattered ear drums. The coastal fire ceased. As for the men stranded on the desert floor, short of all out war, there was nothing anyone could do for them.