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  The splatter of blood on his face caught Muzammil by surprise and he shuddered, utterly shocked, as the body of his afghan commander slumped to the ground.

  Kamidalla lowered his multi-caliber rifle and focused his night-optics to make sure the target was still alive and kicking. He opened comms just as the cacophony of rifle-fire picked up around them:

  “Pathfinder-two here. The chicken are all riled up but the rooster is still up and about!”

  Kamidalla brought up his rifle and took aim. He could see Muzammil’s men firing in all directions around their parked Toyotas. They had no inkling of who, or what, had engaged them and where from. Three of their commanders now lay in a pool of blood. Muzammil had taken cover behind the open door of his vehicle, not knowing that he was in full sight of Kamidalla, two-hundred meters away in the trees…

  Kamidalla put his index finger on the trigger of his rifle whilst putting the red-dot sight on Muzammil’s forehead. The latter was clearly shaking and shivering. Inside his green-black view, Kamidalla could see dark, black stains on the man’s face and on the military jacket he was wearing.

  Blood stains.

  “What’s the status of the rooster?” Pathanya’s calm voice came through on Kamidalla’s earpiece. He lowered his rifle: “Shaking but alive.”

  “Good,” Pathanya noted. “Let him keep shivering for the next few minutes. Keep your eyes on him. And keep us informed if makes a break for it.”

  “Wilco.”

  Pathanya and two of the other pathfinders moved past the bushes, three-hundred meters west. They had one arm holding their rifles at shoulder level and were using the other to move odd branches and scrubs out of the way. They took slow, deliberate steps and moved gradually to the east. From his night-vision optics, Pathanya could see the two mud huts directly in front of him. These were silhouetted black against the flashes of white from the rifle fire that Muzammil’s men were firing south of the road just beyond the huts. Save for Kamidalla, whose sole job was to keep his eyes glued on Muzammil, the remaining eight pathfinders were keeping a solid base of fire on the dozen Toyotas and larger five-tonner trucks which made up Muzammil’s command convoy.

  It was a basic “whack-the-bush” strategy designed to channel a surprised and scared enemy in a direction productive to the attackers. Kamidalla being the crack shot on the team had delivered that initial shock which had the desired effect on Muzammil. The main Pathfinder force was now directing accurate rifle-fire against the jihadists on the road, south of the mud huts…

  “Panther, this is pathfinder-one,” Pathanya spoke into his comms mouthpiece as he stepped over the rocks on a shallow, icy fjord. He saw the two other pathfinders a dozen meters away.

  “Panther reads you five-by-five.” Jagat responded as calmly as though running a peacetime exercise.

  “Panther, pathfinder is in play and under fire. We have eyes on target in the convoy behind lead vehicle. Do not touch that area. Light up the other vehicles!”

  “Roger. Panther is detaching leopard to play merry hell!”

  Pathanya tightened his rifle into his shoulder closer and switched comms: “Pathfinder-one here: watch your backs and make sure the infrared strobes are active. Leopard is entering the fight!”

  Their first inkling of Dutt’s helicopters entering the battle was when three fireballs rose into the sky and sent three trucks at the back end of the convoy on fire. Pathanya instantly kneeled as the orange-yellow flames of the convoy rendered a hellish glow on the valley. More unguided rockets struck the road soon after. Pathanya heard the rumble of the helicopters as they streaked overhead. Tracers raced after the fast-moving helicopters as survivors of Muzammil’s security force struggled to meet this new and sudden threat above them.

  It was a nightmarish sight to behold even for battle-hardened soldiers such as Pathanya. For someone like Muzammil, more used to ordering people to their deaths in battle rather than enduring the same, it was just too much.

  “Rooster is moving! Making a run for it!” Kamidalla’s urgent voice came through in Pathanya’s ears. He was almost about to ask for directions but Kamidalla beat him to the punch: “Northwest! Northwest! Northwest! Go! Go! Go!”

  Pathanya jerked his head to the see the silhouette of a man run past the orange-black glow of the flames near the two mud huts and into the woods. He immediately got up and splashed past the fjord as fast as he could, breaking branches and slipping over the icy stones along the way. He made quick progress on his evasive enemy. Kamidalla’s voice chimed in again: “Target moving west now! Heading to you!”

  Pathanya saw the confused Muzammil run towards him, not knowing that he was being pursued. He finally saw Pathanya and his two men a dozen meters away and stood in shock. Pathanya saw him raise his AK-47 just in time to hit the dirt: “Down!”

  Muzammil let the three men have it at full blast, firing the ready AK-47 from the hip. The bullets went on a wide arc trajectories and slapped into trees and branches all around Pathanya and his men, showering them with broken branches and snow. But the frenzied burst of fire and the rough terrain meant that Muzammil count attain no accuracy. In a few seconds his rifle clicked on empty chambers. He looked at the rifle in surprise and instead of reloading, threw it on the snow and began running further up the slope.

  Pathanya got up on his feet and ran after Muzammil. He had noticed that he was alone as one of his two pathfinders had taken a bullet in his leg and was down where he lay. The other team member was no-where to be seen…

  You are not getting away, you bastard!

  Pathanya ran up the hill, sweating as he did so. He heard the whiz of bullets flying past his head and crouched behind a tree trunk to see another of Muzammil’s men clambering up the hill in his salwar-kameez, firing a G3 rifle as he struggled through the snow.

  Your boss isn’t expendable. But you are!

  He brought up his MCIWS rifle to shoulder level and fired a three-round burst. The bearded jihadi fell face down into the snow with his hands stretched and his back pooling with blood.

  “You are going to miss our man! Forget these guys! Go! Go!” Kamidalla’s voice shouted in Pathanya’s ears.

  Pathanya let out a breath and forced himself up to see Muzammil further up the slope. It was clear to Pathanya that the man was not nearly in the kind of fitness required to outrun the Indian special-forces soldiers on a slippery mountain slope. He made quick progress on him until he was almost behind the man. Muzammil knew what was in store and tried to turn, but slipped in the process. As he lay on his back, he saw the Pathanya’s sweating face walk up to him.

  By now Muzammil was not worthy of Pathanya’s honor. Pathanya pointed the barrel of his rifle to the man’s temple: “You son of a bitch! Do you know how many people are dead because of you? Do you?”

  Muzammil realized he was going to be taken alive. This allowed him to recover some of his composure. “Not enough! We will kill you all before this war is complete, as Allah is my witness!”

  Pathanya growled, reversed his rifle and let Muzammil have it in the chest with his rifle butt. Muzammil shrieked like he had been gutted and splattered blood from his mouth on to the snow.

  “Pathfinder, this is panther!” The comms squawked in Pathanya’s ears. “Do you have the package or not?”

  He took a few seconds to catch his breath. He turned to see his other team member helping the third man limp over to his position. To the south, he could see the raging fires from the truck convoy and the Dutt’s attack helicopters streaking through the valley, looking for targets…

  “Roger!” He said, still huffing and puffing. “Package is secure and alive! I say again, package is secure! Panther, get us out of here!” He kneeled to help him gather his breathing.

  Jagat changed comms at his end: “Panther to leopard: you heard the man. We don’t need you holding back anymore. Kill any and all bastards still alive!

  Pathanya heard Dutt’s crews respond by firing salvos of unguided, fin-stabilized rockets into a
ll of the remaining trucks on the road. Most of the vehicles burst to pieces under the impacts, sending shards flying in all directions…

  “Pathfinder, get your men and establish perimeter! We are coming to get you! Out.”

  Jagat turned to see the trees and saw the loadmasters of his three Dhruv helicopters running back to their individual helicopters. He turned to his co-pilot and nodded. Moments later the three helicopters were spooling up their main rotors. Jagat turned to the back to see is loadmaster clambering aboard after stowing his rifle.

  “All clear out there?” Jagat asked sarcastically.

  “All clear, sir. No enemy to be seen.”

  “Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Jagat turned back to his controls and lowered his helmet night-optics and locked it into position. The hellish green-scape replaced his bluish-black moonlit view of the Himalayas. He looked around the control panel and then tightened his grip on the controls. He keyed his comms.

  “All panther elements we are dusting off!”

  “-Two copies.”

  “-Three copies all.”

  “Leopard copies all,” Dutt added. “Watching for your ingress to primary A-O. Will advise on threat vectors.”

  Good…Jagat thought. They would need Leopard to help orient to the terrain. The area-of-operations was just beyond the valley that they had been parked in. They had heard all the explosions and seen the orange-yellow glow silhouetting the mountains. They had even seen random tracers flying upwards from time to time. But the actual positions of Pathfinder was unknown to them. Inside the Dhruv cockpit, Jagat and his pilots could not see the video output from the Searcher-II drones that Ansari and Gephel had access to. So Jagat would rely on the infrared strobes deployed by Pathanya and his men to mark the pickup point.

  The Dhruv leapt off the grassy area and climbed out of the valley. Less than a minute later, Jagat was already climbing past the hills. Instantly he and his crews had to readjust their night-optics sensitivity to account for the blazing fires raging all around. The LCH gunships were roving in the valley looking for targets…

  “Oh shit!” Jagat’s co-pilot exclaimed.

  Jagat lowered the pitch of his helicopter and brought it into hover. “Panther here. We are going to need some visual reference on pathfinder’s location. Are your strobes flashing?”

  “Uh…roger, panther.” Pathanya responded.

  “Well, I have no visual. Too much thermal interference here from the fires.”

  “Leopard here: do you see the burning convoy on the east-west road?”

  Jagat looked up to see the blazing fires from the dozen pickup trucks and lorries on the road. “Roger. We see it.”

  “Do you see the hilltop north of it?”

  “I have it, leopard. Panther is inbound.” Jagat responded and then pushed the throttle and cyclic to bring the helicopter into forward-flight towards the silhouetted hilltop north of them. “Give me a sit-rep on the D-Z!”

  “Secure and holding, panther.” Pathanya chimed in. “But we have an inbound convoy of Pakistani troops heading down the road from the west.”

  Jagat and his co-pilot saw the burning trucks spewing smoke as the overflew the road and the two mud houses. The view then changed to dark, alpine trees on the slope of the hill all the way to the top. Up on the crest of the hill, they saw a dozen or so heavily-armed men. Jagat adjusted the cyclic control and turned the orientation of the helicopter to the south before lowering collective and altitude. He was now hovering a few feet above the hilltop. He could clearly see Pathanya standing on the ground next to another man. This other man was wearing a jacket above his salwar-kameez and had his hands tied and his mouth taped over. Jagat smiled as he brought his helicopter in for a landing…

  Pathanya grabbed Muzammil by his sleeves and pulled him to his feet before shoving him towards the helicopter. Behind him, another of the pathfinders helped his limping comrade towards the helicopter. The commotion in the cabin caused Jagat and his co-pilot to turn back and see Pathanya shoving Muzammil into a seat before helping his wounded man aboard. He then looked to Jagat: “one high-value-individual at your disposal, sir!”

  “Well done, major.” Jagat replied. “Get your men aboard the rest of the helicopters. I…”

  “Leopard here!” Dutt interrupted on the radio. “We are detecting one Mi-17 helicopter approaching the valley from the northeast! Not friendly!”

  Jagat immediately turned to his left to try and see the incoming Pakistani helicopter. He could see the black speck on his night optics against the greenish night sky. He also saw two of Dutt’s LCHs passing over their heads…

  “Leopard, take that bastard down before he ruins our whole day!”

  “Wilco Panther. Leopard is engaging!”

  Jagat saw tracers from the chin-turret cannons of the two LCHs as they laced through the sky towards the evading Pakistani Mi-17. The crew of that helicopter had obviously been taken by surprise. Certainly they were not aware of Indian gunships prowling the valley ahead of them.

  Jagat saw the small flash and then heard the crumbling noise as the Pakistani helicopter went down into the silhouetted mountains, trailing smoke. The two LCHs broke off and began turning south. Jagat turned to his co-pilot and Pathanya: “We just lost the element of surprise. That Pakistani crew must have relayed our presence. We are out of time. Get your men aboard ASAP. We are leaving!”

  Pathanya nodded and jumped out of the helicopter to organize his men. Jagat saw the other pathfinders clambering aboard and then got a thumbs up from Pathanya outside his cockpit. He nodded and the Dhruv leapt off the hilltop, making way for the next Dhruv to land and pick up the rest of the pathfinders.

  A few minutes later the last Dhruv lifted off the hilltop. Dutt’s LCHs also broke off and headed south, covering panther’s back. Jagat saw the fires of the trucks below him in the valley and took a deep breath of relief as they passed the southern mountains. He turned to see the soot and grime covered faces of the pathfinders in his cabin, also tired. Finally he saw Muzammil, his eyes full of fear, unsure of what his future held. The man who had carried out the strike on Mumbai.

  Jagat keyed his comms to Ansari: “panther and leopard are clear and we are returning to base. Over.”

  “Do you have the package?”

  Jagat nodded to himself. “We have him.”

  There was one last thing that was left to be done. Verma looked at the digital clock console in front of him patted the operator sitting in front of him. The lead radar-systems officer went to work: “mongol-two to sword-leader. You are cleared to splash Skardu! Execute when ready.”

  The response came in a few seconds later, trailing radio static. “Roger. Sword is executing.”

  The Pakistani F-16s blocked on the ground at Skardu were one of the most advanced aircraft in the PAF arsenal. And for now they were at the Indian mercy while their airbase runway was still damaged from the Brahmos missile strikes. Verma and Bhosale had agreed long ago that this force of F-16s could not be allowed to survive the night. The goal of these strikes was to prevent punish the terrorists harbored by Pakistan. But if that failed and Pakistan upped the ante, it would be much safer for the Indian pilots if these twelve enemy aircraft were turned to scrap metal tonight.

  It was a long fifteen minutes of pacing inside the cabin of the cramped aircraft before the leader of the group of Mirage-2000s chimed in: “sword-leader here. We confirm seven buried bandits inside their shelters. Direct hits from multiple precision munitions. Two more unconfirmed. Hell of a party you have going here, mongol-two. Sword, out!”

  Verma cocked an eyebrow and smiled. He straightened his back. It was time to pull his thinly strung forces back to tighter control over Indian territory. The enemy air-force would not pursue. They couldn’t. The shock delivered to them tonight would take hours, if not days, to heal.

  ──── 16 ────

  “Do you know what they have done?” Bafna said sharply as he walked into Ravoof’s office.

&
nbsp; “Who?” Ravoof looked up from the desk and waved for his orderly to close the door that Bafna had burst open.

  Bafna saw the gesture and waited until the door had been closed before he faced Ravoof again: “The service chiefs! Who else?!”

  Ravoof removed his reading glasses and leaned back in his chair. He stared into Bafna’s eyes and saw…what? Anger? Certainly. But fear too?

  “You are over-reacting,” Ravoof said finally. “They did exactly what we asked them to do. If the Pakistanis are riled up about it, it is exactly because of the pain we delivered to them.”

  Bafna moved to the nearby television screen and took the remote to flip it on. The channel showed the latest news streaming in about the ongoing military operations in Kashmir.

  “Have you seen this?” Bafna said as he increased the volume on one of the channels. Ravoof took a deep breath as the CNN crew from Islamabad talked about Pakistani government accusations. Islamabad was frothing at the mouth as they shouted to the world that India had declared all-out-war by striking airbases and military targets inside their side of Kashmir.

  Ravoof turned to Bafna: “So what…”

  “Wait. Hear this next bit.”

  Ravoof sighed and then turned to the screen again. The reporter was talking about the death of a senior LET leader and his major commanders inside Deosai as well as the destruction of more than fifteen PAF combat aircraft. Reports of Indian helicopters operating inside Pakistani Kashmir and loss of hundreds of lives all along the line-of-control. Ravoof exhaled again when the reporter started talking about the massive Pakistani military mobilization as they prepared to retaliate. Bafna switched the television off just at that point and tossed the remote-control on to the couch.