The third missile made it through the flares, its gray trail following the Apache. The helicopter plunged to the left, then released another cluster of flares. They did their job, and the missile struck them, blowing into millions of fiery shards.
Someone fired an RPG toward the same helicopter from the opposite direction. The pilot swerved around, but not fast enough. The RPG struck its tail boom. The Apache jerked upward, then dove a dozen or so feet. It was not a solid hit, as the tail seemed intact. Its rotor blades were spinning. Black smoke billowed around it. Carrie thought she saw flames leaping from the helicopter’s tail.
“Chopper’s hit,” she told Nathan.
He was covering the opposite corner and could not see the firefight in the sky.
“Is it going down?”
“No, I don’t think so. Well…”
“What?”
“Chopper’s going down.”
The Apache spun around, slow at first, then faster, losing attitude at a rapid pace. The black smoke had grown thicker. The pilot seemed to steady the helicopter, but just for a moment. It resumed its nosedive under gravity’s pull. The tail rotor stopped working, then broke off. The helicopter dropped over the camp, twirling toward the clearing. Its main rotor blades slowed down. Then the helicopter touched down.
It turned over and rolled on its side. The rotor blades snapped like twigs, fragments flying around like arrows. The crash stirred up a storm of sand and debris, hiding the scene from Carrie’s view.
The other helicopter circled the camp and fired a series of missiles. One ripped through one of the houses. Its blast wave shattered the windows of the a few truck parked next to it. The man hiding behind the jeep jumped to his feet and began to run. Carrie aimed her AK and shot him in the leg. Her second bullet tore through his body. He was dead before he hit the ground.
Another missile blew up a crater around the corner of the warehouse. Two bodies flew through the air, crashing against the jeep. One of them stayed still. The other struggled to get to his knees, but Carrie knocked him cold with a bullet to his head.
She waited, huddled behind the wall. No shots came toward their positions. The helicopter was descending over the clearing.
“The chopper’s rescuing the crew,” Carrie said. “We’ve got to move in now.”
Nathan nodded. “Yeah. I hope we’ll find Justin soon.”
“So do I.”
Justin saw the RPG hitting the first helicopter and the billowing smoke, then both helicopters disappeared from his view. After a few moments, he realized one of the Apaches had crashed, and the other was providing cover for the survivors. If there are any survivors.
“We’ve lost our air support,” he said to Yuliya.
They were hunkered down behind a small truck parked in between the houses. Intense fire from the second house had slowed their progress until a missile from one of the helicopters almost leveled the entire structure. All the machine guns fell silent. The only gun reports were AKs, firing a constant torrent of bullets from the warehouse.
“I don’t think the gunmen know about the crashed helicopter,” Yuliya replied. “But they’ll figure it out soon.”
“We can’t wait.”
Justin reloaded his AK, then secured four magazines in his chest rig and a small pistol in his shoulder holster over his bulletproof vest, a new Russian model Yuliya had given him. He cleaned sweat and dirt from his face, then gave Yuliya a couple of grenades. They had secured their new arsenal from the dead insurgents.
“Cover me,” he said.
He removed the pin from a grenade and tossed it as far as he could toward the warehouse. The explosion came, then Yuliya threw a grenade. Justin ran toward the warehouse, firing his AK in full automatic mode. A third grenade exploded at the warehouse entrance. Someone began to slide the door, trying to close it. Justin squeezed off a couple of shots. He was sure he hit the man, but the door closed with a loud bang.
Two more grenade explosions covered the warehouse with another dust cloud. Justin stopped near one of the side entrances, then threw himself against the warehouse wall. He peered through the smoke and the dust. What? It can’t be. Carrie was pressing forward toward the other end of the warehouse. Nathan was providing suppressive fire. Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Carrie and Nathan are here?
Two bullets struck the wall next to his feet. Justin spun around and raised his AK. A barrage coming from Yuliya’s position cut through the van where the shots had come from. Justin also fired a few rounds at the van, while Yuliya raced to the warehouse.
“I think we have friendlies on the other side of the warehouse,” Justin said.
“Who? The helo crews?” Yuliya reloaded her AK.
“Negative. Carrie and Nathan. My partners.”
“Your partners? You’re sure?”
Justin hesitated. “No, not sure. Maybe I’m seeing things, wishing they were here.”
Gunshots rang from inside the warehouse. They ducked down as the glass from one of the windows exploded to their left.
“No time to think about it,” Yuliya said.
“Let’s just… let’s just keep our eyes open for friendlies.”
She shot him a sideways glance. “Fine.”
“Left side door. Grenades, then we hide behind the wall.” He pointed to a large opening in the wall surrounding the camp.
Yuliya nodded.
They walked with their backs flat against the wall, Justin two steps ahead of Yuliya. About thirty feet away from the door, he pulled out a grenade and let it fly toward the door. They dashed toward the wall opposite to the door, maybe ten feet away from them.
The explosion sounded much closer than it really was. Steel fragments and shrapnel pinged against the cinder block wall. One or two found their way through the opening, flying over their heads. Loud shouts and curses came from inside the warehouse, followed by gunshots. Justin waited a few moments, then pulled the safety pin of his next grenade. He heaved it overhead at the door. This blast was stronger than the first, judging by the wave of shrapnel whining of/off the wall. This time, there was no return fire.
“All clear?” Yuliya asked.
Justin crawled to his right and fired the rest of his magazine at the gaping door. A low growl confirmed he hit his mark. “Door’s clear.”
He reloaded his gun, then shouted, “Cover fire.”
Yuliya fired single shots to the left, at the van. Then she turned her AK to the right. No shooter was visible, but she still squeezed off a few rounds, to force down anyone who may be hiding around the corners or behind the debris.
Justin ran toward the warehouse. He reached the door and glanced inside. It was dark, but he still managed to make out a few silhouettes. Men running toward the back. Justin took a wary step inside the warehouse, then a second one. Rows of wooden crates lined up the walls, filling a large section. Three jeeps and a large military truck were parked on the other side, next to a small crane and a forklift. A hall led to a separate area by to the main entrance. It seemed that area was used as office space.
Justin heard hushed voices, then feet shuffling on the concrete floor. His eyes caught the glimpse of white robes and headdresses, as a group of men slipped into the narrow space between the jeeps. They began to run down the hall. Justin raised his AK.