One of the Indian tank commanders caught on when he saw a jihadi dressed as a civilian run up to his tank. He shredded the imposter with his machinegun fire. But there were a lot more of the jihadists now. One of them ran to the side of an Indian T-90 a split-second before a terrific explosion ripped through his body. Pieces of metal and the tank wheels flew in all directions.
Other Indian soldiers were now engaging the jihadis in civilian clothing and were engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Some of the jihadis pulled out rifles from underneath their dresses and mowed down two Indian soldiers who had taken them to be civilians. The jihadists took out grenades and began tossing them on the other tanks nearby.
One T-90 gunner fired a continuous volley of machinegun rounds on a group of jihadis who had run out of a small hut and were clambering atop one of the BMP-II personnel carriers. The fire riddled the top of the vehicle with sparks as the jihadis were ripped to shreds with their war-cry still lodged in their throats. A moment later a rocket-propelled-grenade slammed into the T-90 turret and detonated the reactive armor panels. The shrapnel from the explosion cut down several Indian soldiers in close proximity to the tank. As the chaotic combat continued, the Indian tanks and other vehicles began rolling backwards, engaging their newfound enemies as they did so. They left behind three burning T-90s and one disabled BMP-II. The jihadis scrambled on top of the disabled vehicle covered with the remains of the their comrades and dragged out the body of a dead Indian crewmember. They began to behead it with a curved knife on top of the turret. They never did get there, as one of the retreating T-90s fired a high-explosive round into the BMP-II and destroyed it in a massive fireball.
The screen in front of Saadat blinked off. He took a breath and then turned behind: “our bird lost power. We are recovering it now.”
Haider patted him on the shoulder and gestured to Akram as he walked away, leaving Saadat stroking his beard and feeling satisfied.
“That went well,” Akram muttered sarcastically once they were out of earshot.
“You disagree with the results?” Haider asked curiously.
“Well it certainly wasn’t a glowing success,” Akram responded. “The idiots are more savages then soldiers. They could have inflicted a lot more damage with the surprise element if they had just shown some discipline.”
“Perhaps.” Haider ceded. “But perhaps that brutality will petrify the enemy from entering the city, if they know what awaits them around every corner. This war is as much psychological as it is real. And while I don’t disagree with your assessment, I will add that you shouldn’t underestimate the impact of what we just saw. The Indians just retreated under the brutal surprise. A few more attacks like this will blunt their invasion far more effectively than anything else we could throw at them!”
29
The thunderclap rippled through the room. Grewal and his pilots instinctively looked up to see mounds of cement dust fall off the roof.
“What the hell was that?” One of his pilots asked the group. Grewal didn’t have time to answer. The klaxons were already whining away on the airbase.
“We are under attack!” He grabbed his papers and maps. The other pilots saw their leader in action and sprang to it as well. Grewal turned to his pilots: “stay here! If we are indeed under attack, I don’t want you all running into the open and getting fragged! Ramesh, you are with me. We need to find out what’s going on. Let’s go!”
The corridors outside were abuzz with ground-control officers and NCOs rushing past each other. Two more loud booms rippled through the underground center. Grewal looked to see if he could grab someone who he might know what was happening. But his squadron was only a temporary guest at this base. He didn’t know enough people here…
Oh to hell with it! He grabbed the nearest squadron-leader who was rushing past him. Before the man could utter a word, Grewal was in his face: “what’s the word? Who’s attacking us?”
“We are getting hit with cruise-missiles. The base is taking severe damage! Sir, I need to go!” The man resisted the arm grab that Grewal had placed on him. He was on his way somewhere within the base-operations facility, but Grewal needed information too.
“Hold on!” Grewal responded angrily, “any news on damage topside?”
“Two hardened shelters have taken hits. The control tower is destroyed. And we have more inbound missiles!”
“All right. Go!” Grewal released his hold and the man ran off. Grewal turned to Ramesh: “we need to find out if any of our birds were burned and if the runway is still operational. We need to get the hell off this airbase before it is completely wrecked! The bastards will have us by the balls if the runway is destroyed and we are stuck on the ground. Those Jag boys are going to get stuck deep inside enemy territory with no friendly air-cover!” He looked at his wristwatch. “We are already getting late! Let’s go!”
They ran through the corridors, bypassing various people heading the other way. They turned and entered a narrow corridor that led to the nearest of the two hardened aircraft shelters. It was a claustrophobic place to be especially with the threat of imminent collapse. A few moments later they emerged on the other side where the frigid air blew through the domed concrete shelters housing two LCAs. Grewal recognized his bird and saw his ground crewmen running about. He ran and squatted underneath the delta wing to see the drop tanks, Astra missiles and the R-73s already mounted. His bird was also outfitted with a low-optics designator on an offset pylon next to the centerline fuel tank.
This LCA was ready for war.
He and Ramesh walked past the aircraft and headed to the taxiway that led past the concrete protection walls for the shelter. The open view from there revealed that Ambala airbase was ablaze. Fires were roaring where the control tower used to be. All he could make out was a blackened carcass of the building amidst the licks of flame. Further east he could see fires within the bellowing smoke from a destroyed aircraft shelter. That section of the base was occupied by a gaggle of Jaguars from the No. 5 “Tuskers” Squadron. Unless they were out somewhere on a mission, they had just been dealt a body blow.
The sounds of jet engines overhead caused Grewal to look up. There was nothing to see in the darkness except for small clouds silhouetted against the moonlight. The corner of his eye caught a flash and he instinctively turned away just as another Babur cruise-missile detonated above the end of the runway. The spherical flash of white light turned yellow, then orange and then disappeared behind a mushroom shaped dust cloud. The shockwave swept over the curved tops of the hardened shelter and ricocheted off the protection walls. A wall of dust and the smell of petroleum swept past him. Grewal spat out the dust on his tongue.
“Okay,” he said as he shook Ramesh and the latter got up from his prone position on the concrete, “we need to get out of here. Our birds are fine. Get the rest of the boys moving. I am going to spool up and get base operations to get us permission to leave.” He saw Ramesh still a bit shaken from the rapidity of the strikes taking place. Grewal shook Ramesh by his flight-suit: “Hey! You listening?”
“Yeah. I got you. Get the boys, get the planes. Leaving this place ASAP! I heard you!”