Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Dad. Maybe I should have stayed on the farm, she thought just before she started to squeeze the trigger. But she stopped when hearing the roar of jet fighters approaching. The soldiers paused and looked up at the trio of Super Hornets in trail formation. She heard boots pounding as the soldiers down on the road began running for their trucks. Then she heard what she presumed was their commanding officer yelling angrily, giving orders. It became clear the boss was planning to stand his ground, rather than run from the incoming jets.
“Diamond, are you clear of the wreckage?” Ricardo’s voice came over the radio, barely audible since she had turned the volume nearly to off. He sounded worried.
“Affirmative. I’m clear,” she whispered. “Top of the hill behind some boulders. Got three guys almost on top of me,” she whispered.
“I see you. Hang on.”
“Astro Six-Five,” Ricardo radioed the Seahawk the moment he spotted Amanda on the hill overlooking the wreckage and the line of trucks. “We’re in hot; you are cleared in for the pickup.”
“Astro Six-Five is on the way,” the CSAR helicopter commander radioed, determination in his voice.
Muzzle flashes erupted from multiple points on the ground as the soldiers began firing at Ricardo’s Super Hornet.
He turned the control column toward the closest truck and opened up the Vulcan for just a few seconds. Twenty-millimeter rounds ripped into the vehicle, nearly cutting it in half. Some of the soldiers began running toward the remaining trucks while others disappeared in the opposite direction. A few of the ground troops, including the three men closest to Amanda, dropped to the ground and warily watched the three F/A-18Es.
Ricardo and his wingmen pulverized another truck as it tried to make an escape in the opposite direction. In an effort to save ammunition and fuel, the pilots pulled up and circled the wreckage when the helicopter appeared. The last truck and the two half-tracks roared off at full throttle. The rest of the soldiers were left stranded in the open. Several started running uphill, toward Amanda’s position.
Ricardo managed a quick breath and keyed his radio. “Diamond, keep your head down!”
“Wilco,” Amanda uttered in an uneasy voice.
“Astro Six-Five,” Ricardo radioed, “do you have a visual on the wreckage?”
“That’s affirm, we have a visual,” the CSAR pilot replied. “We’re about forty seconds out.”
“Roger, forty seconds.” Ricardo snapped the jet into a tight turn to align himself with his target. “Astro, I’m going to make a firing run from east to west. The pilot is behind some boulders atop the hill a hundred feet south of where I’ll be aiming.”
“We have the downed pilot in sight,” the CSAR pilot said excitedly. “Making our approach now, taking a few rounds!”
Ricardo keyed his radio. “Hang in, we’ll cover you.”
“Astro has a copy,” Borland replied, concentrating on making an abrupt flare and landing close to the pilot, but a number of soldiers were now firing uphill when they realized where the helicopter was headed. “It’s getting hot over here!”
“I’m in,” Ricardo announced firmly.
Amanda watched as Ricardo rolled in and began his run. Knowing when he would be firing at the soldiers rushing up the hill, she covered her head a second before the dirt began flying, and the ground trembled under her feet as hundreds of 20 mm rounds pounded the desert.
As Ricardo pulled up at the end of his pass, he glanced over his shoulder at the two orbiting Super Hornets. “Dragons, keep their heads down, faces in the dirt!”
“Zero-Seven!”
“Zero-Two!”
Amanda waited a moment and then looked over the edge of the boulders. One of the men was dead, but the other two, though hollow-eyed and stunned, looked at her. Both reached for their rifles.
But Amanda was ready, firing in rapid succession, scoring direct hits in the chest, two each, the reports echoing in her ears.
Then she began running toward the incoming helicopter.
“Zero-Seven’s in hot,” Ricardo heard Malloy say.
Ricardo saw Amanda fire at the soldiers and run, but two more Iranians had made it to the hill and were about to shoot her in the back.
“Diamond, get down, get on the ground!”
He saw Amanda dive like a runner stealing second. As she lay spread-eagled, Malloy used his 20 mm cannon to rip the two soldiers to shreds.
Borland kept the Csar helicopter ready for an immediate departure.
“Astro Six-Five is taking fire, taking more hits!”
“Diamond, get up!” Ricardo yelled. “Run for the helo!”
Amanda jumped to her feet and scrambled as fast as she could. After covering half the distance to the helicopter, she watched as the earth to her right began flying into the air from AK-47 rounds fired from an unseen position. She dove again as the helicopter’s door gunner opened up with the M240 machine gun.
Before she could react, a helmeted crew member had already sprinted from the side door, pulled Amanda to her feet, and helped her to the waiting Seahawk.
They crawled aboard while rounds continued pinging the fuselage like hammers. As the HH-60H began to lift off, it started to spew smoke.
Sliding on a pair of green David Clark noise-canceling headphones already jacked into the helicopter’s intercom, Amanda grabbed on to an overhead pipe as the door gunners continued pounding the hillside with their M240s. Meanwhile, the Super Hornet trio unloaded more rounds on the remaining soldiers. She could hear their chatter in the squadron frequency as they cleared the way for the Seahawk.
The helicopter’s left General Electric turboshaft belched more black smoke and fire and the entire fuselage vibrated. Then she heard it spool down, smothering the flames.
“Hey, are we going down?” she asked a helmeted gunner.
“Negative, ma’am!” he replied, his M240D trained on the ground. “The Navy provided us with a spare engine!”
The Super Hornets made a final sweep with the cannons for insurance before Malloy decided to risk another pass to drop a couple of bombs on what remained of Amanda’s bird — just to make sure it was destroyed.
Amanda watched the show as the helicopter steered away from the kill zone. But apparently, Malloy was not satisfied, because he made yet another pass with his canons blasting, tearing up the road and any remaining soldiers, even though they no longer posed a danger to the helicopter. Ricardo and the other Super Hornet were already moving away from the kill zone escorting the CSAR helo.
What the hell is Mullet doing? she thought as the big Seahawk accelerated away into a clear and bright morning, but remained close to the rocky terrain to avoid SAMs until they reached the shoreline. A moment later Malloy also joined the egressing convoy.
“Hey, Mullet, I think you missed a couple,” Amanda heard Ricardo say.
“Just making a statement, man. Nobody fucks with the Dragons.”
Amanda shook her head.
The pilot handed control to the copilot and stepped away from the cockpit to check in on his passenger.
Plugging back into the ICS, he looked at the disheveled fighter pilot. Her flight suit and hair were dirty from her dive for cover, and her hands were scratched and bleeding. A corpsman daubed at a cut on her chin with gauze. “You all right, Diamond?” Borland asked.