The two J-11s punched afterburners to escape, but the enraged Mirage pilots were not letting the perpetrators get away that easily. They dived in behind and launched two Matra Super 530D missiles that quickly eliminated their targets in series of explosions at low-altitude…
Back at the Junwei-Kongjun in Beijing, Feng rubbed his eyes as details of the battle started piling in. Of the forty-two J-11s committed to battle by the 55TH Regiment, only nine had returned. In exchange, five Indian Su-30s, Four Mirage-2000s and one of their precious AEWs had been destroyed.
It had been a deadly price. But Punitive-Dragon had achieved its goals of eliminating the Indian airborne-radar presence south of Lhasa as well as chopping off a portion of their leading edge fighters. So it was a victory.
Was it really? Feng wondered and walked out of the room.
“I still don’t understand our involvement in any of this,” Prime-Minister Sinh Triet said.
“And for all practical intents and purposes, there is none!” Chakri stressed again over the telephone. “All we ask is that when the time comes, all you need do is to look the other way, sir.”
The Vietnamese head-of-state went silent over the phone, causing the people in New-Delhi to share silent looks while they waited for an answer.
“I am not comfortable,” Triet said finally, “with what I think is unnecessary secrecy on the matter. And while I am happy to see that Beijing is being badly hurt by its current misadventure against your country, I have to ensure the safety and security of my own as well!”
“I understand,” Chakri replied. He did understand the sentiment.
“It is very complicated, of course,” Triet continued. “I have not forgotten what China did to Vietnam thirty-five years ago. We made them pay for their actions. But we never did pay them back to our satisfaction. We never had the means to do so. And we simply could not purchase those means with our limited financial resources…”
Chakri smiled at the speculation. He got his cue.
“Let me just say this, Mr. Triet,” Chakri said generously. “We at our end have discovered over the past few weeks who our true friends really are. And rest assured we will not forego on that! I give you my word that India will extend the means by which Vietnam could ensure safety from Beijing’s aggression. I am sure options exist, if you follow…”
Yes Mr. Triet. You will get your Prithvi ballistic-missiles…
“I do, minister,” Triet said with a smile from his end. The mutual understanding between the two men had been established. Now it was time to deliver. “And we will certainly take you up on that. For now, all I can say is that like you, we have been living under the threat from Beijing and its imperialistic ambitions in the South China Sea for far too long. If you have the means to strike them where it hurts, all I and the people of Vietnam can say to you is to hit them! And hit them hard!”
“What the hell is all this?” Colonel Misra said as he stepped off his Dhruv helicopter at the helipad of the Dechencholing Palace.
As his paratroopers and the local Bhutanese police maintained a barricade around the crowd of media reporters and journalists, Misra’s operations officer walked over.
“A lot of things have happened since you went to Dotanang, sir. General Potgam is here as well. He arrived from Haa Dzong an hour ago and is waiting for you inside along with the Bhutanese officials.”
“What the hell are all these journalists doing here?” Misra said as both men walked away from the helicopter, which lifted moments later. “I thought I had ordered Thimpu closed to the media until further notice! This is a warzone, damn it! Not a media circus!”
“General Potgam overrode the authorization, sir.”
“Where is he?” Misra asked.
“This way,” the Major said and gestured inside the building.
As both men walked inside and closed the doors behind, Misra felt the warmth of the palace interior. He removed his hand from the beret on his head now that the winds weren’t threatening to rip it off. He noticed a lot more Bhutanese officials plying back and forth through the marble stairs and offices of the building. All of them seemed utterly busy cleaning up the place and getting things in order. He was seeing many new faces for the first time…
This is a security nightmare!
Approaching the room inside the palace acting as his command post, Misra noticed Potgam standing by the paper maps laid out on the table in the middle of the room while other junior officers plied back and forth with their duties. Potgam raised his head to see the well-built paratrooper Colonel standing near the entrance of the room.
“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.