Hellfire. Ed Macy

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СКАЧАТЬ inbound; confirm we are clear to engage.’

      I felt our nose dip and level again as Simon increased to ramming speed. A quick glance left with the naked eye confirmed Jon was 500 metres away and on level-pegging with us. We were in full view of the Taliban.

      ‘This is Widow Seven Six. Pegasus. Clear hot. Clear hot.’

      I pressed T10 and called ‘Come Co-op’ to Simon after I actioned the rockets.

      ‘Co-op,’ Simon replied.

      The MPD confirmed everything I needed to know: co-op bottom right and T10 bottom left. My crosshair was smack in the middle of the field and I was hands off. The Apache would hold the TADS on the position without any help from me. More importantly I could see where Jake was supposed to be firing.

       Please be dead on. Please hit the target…

      ‘Running in to engage Taliban positions with rockets,’ Jake said. That should encourage them to look south.

      The range was counting down above T10.

      3.5KMS…3.4KMS…

      ‘On Jake’s executive word of command, Simon: match and shoot.’

      ‘Match and shoot with Jake,’ Simon replied.

      The crosshair was static and Simon lined up the rocket steering cursor by adjusting our flight path. We were a hair trigger from firing.

      ‘Engaging with rockets,’ Jake called on the secure radio before switching back to the Taliban frequency.

      3.0KMS…2.9KMS…

      ‘Wildmen engaging in five…’ Jake paused to allow the JTAC a final opportunity to call off the firemission.

      Nothing…

      ‘Three…two…one…’

      2.8KMS…Rockets peeled off both sides of our gunships with a whoosh.

      I couldn’t bring myself to look out of the cockpit window…

      Their time of flight (TOF) crept down on the MPD.

      TOF4…

      Four seconds to impact and they were far too high on my screen to judge if they’d hit.

      ‘Hardwoods have about three klicks to run…’ The tension was getting to Simon too.

      TOF3…

      The rockets were still too high and fading fast to a pinpoint glow.

      ‘Engaging,’ Jon called, for the benefit of the boss back at Camp Bastion.

      TOF2…

      They began to drop down the screen, but far too slowly for my liking. Then they disappeared entirely.

       What the fuck…?

      TOF1…

      Two huge dust clouds blossomed right under my crosshair.

      My focus shot up the screen; Jake’s rockets had also landed bang on the button.

      ‘Get in…’ I punched in T11.

      Both sets of rockets had landed safely.

      The TADS jumped right in front of the 100 metre tree line. I deslaved the lock because the rockets were so accurate. I moved the crosshair to a gnat’s knacker away from the foliage and called to Simon to match and shoot again.

      A gentle right bank followed by a roll out, then another set of rockets rippled off our gunship and landed with pinpoint accuracy. They too disappeared just before impact as their thermal signature matched the surroundings. A confirmatory glance told me Jake had matched us shot for shot. Simon and Jon were doing a storming job.

      ‘Hardwoods have about a klick to run,’ Simon said.

      ‘Switch to guns,’ Jake responded.

      I had already slaved the TADS to T12.

      I pushed up the weapon select button and the rocket symbology on my MPD was replaced by 300 rounds of cannon.

      With the crosshair twenty metres in front of Macy House I let rip with a ranging burst. Ten white hot pins of light dropped down the screen. My heart started to pound as they passed through my aiming mark and headed towards the building. They ploughed into the ground with a metre to go, kicking up a column of earth and dust fifty metres high—enough to screen the LS from the sniper’s positions.

      ‘Fuck…that was close…’ I changed the burst limit to twenty.

      ‘Not close enough for my liking, but I’d still aim off a bit if I were you,’ Simon replied before updating us on the secure radio. ‘Hardwoods are about to cross the river and come into view of the Taliban.’

      I deslaved the TADS from T12, adjusted the sight, lased and fired a twenty-round burst. I felt every one of them through my calf muscles as they poured off the gunship like steel rain.

      I switched to the field south of the LS and ripped up the ground in front of the trees with a series of twenty-round bursts of HEDP bullets.

      ‘They’re over the river,’ Simon called.

      It was getting lighter by the second. I could now see that the south was well and truly blocked from view.

      I switched my fire to the right, next to the canal bank.

      Jake switched his left, further up the tree line.

      We opened up in unison, providing a clear avenue for the Chinooks. Cannon rounds stitched their way along the edge of their approach path as they flared to land. The dust rolled south as the monstrous machines hit the ground. I fired fifty metres to their south-east and Jake did the same to their south-west-far closer than we had considered safe twenty-four hours ago.

      No sooner were they down than they had lifted again.

      We kept on ploughing up the LS until they were over the river and in the sanctuary of the open desert.

      ‘Checkfire,’ Jake ordered.

      I stowed the M230 cannon.

      The entire field was a dustbowl with a lone building in the north-east corner. A succession of Paras made their way over the bridge like ants in the pale dawn light. As the dust cloud drifted further south the last of them crossed into the DC.

      ‘Wildman this is Widow. That’s us all across safely and not a single shot fired.’

      ‘End of firemission. You’re clear back to Bastion. Thanks for the support-and stay on this freq for a Taliban update.’

      We were only a mile from Sangin when he called back to explain what he’d meant. One of his interpreters with a radio scanner had heard a senior Taliban commander asking why they’d failed to shoot down the cows and СКАЧАТЬ