“Everyone doing OK back there?” Came the pilot’s voice over the cabin speakers. “We are on final approach to Herat. We should be on the ground in about ten to fifteen mikes. If you need to use the latrine we will be on the ground about three zero mikes, so don’t stray far.”
“Charlie One Two Victor, you are cleared for runway three six, behind Ariana MD-80 on final. Wind eight to ten at one seven, altimeter two niner niner zero.” Came over Captain Poole’s headset.
“Roger, Herat, we are number one behind MD-80.”
After an uneventful landing, layover and takeoff, they were once more in the air with a heading toward Kabul. Then on to Jalalabad to drop the three soldiers.
Throughout the entire flight, no one noticed slight, barely discernable course changes were being made. Sometimes a clump of houses could be seen on the horizon, other times a barely visible face of a cliff and others a seemly innocent ravine cutting the dry rocky earth below. On board the aircraft, computers and other specialized equipment was recording any radio, cell phone or other electrical signals on hard drives and flash drives, which would upon landing at Ghazni, would be downloaded, analyzed and the results, if warranted, a mission would be planned for the type of information discovered.
While waiting clearance to take off at Jalalabad, the pilot spoke. “Colonel Housley, since it is just the two of us, would you like to ride co-pilot. The scenery really sucks, but you do get to see more of it.”
“Well, thank you Captain that is nice of you,” he said as he unbuckled and traversed the short distance to the co-pilots seat.
“Are you a pilot Sir.”
“No, but in civilian life, my law firm does lease a couple of Gulf Streams for the practice.”
“This must be a big come down after that.”
“Not to degrade this airplane, but yes it is. We travel about five hundred to five fifty knots in it.”
“I have a few hours in twin jets, but not rated, so for the rest of my tour, I’ll fly these and the rotary wings.
“Charlie One Two Victor, you are cleared for takeoff runway three one, altimeter two niner eight zero.”
“Roger Jalalabad, taxiing to runway three one, south-east to Ghazni departure, One Two Victor.” Replied as he applied throttle and began rolling down the taxiway leading to runway three one.
“Captain Poole, I like you. You stood up to me in defense of those soldiers, knowing I out-ranked you.”
“Actually sir, as long as you are in my plane and I am in charge, you don’t out-rank me, you just have more rank. Like on a ship, I am the Captain, commander and master of the vessel.”
“Well whatever, when you get out of the service, please look me up. I think my firm could spring for whatever training you would need to become a co-pilot and later pilot one of my Gulf Streams.” He said handing him a card. W. Earl Housley, Attorney at Law, Housley Law Associates, read the embossed card. “Why thank you sir, you can be sure I will be giving you a call in a year or so, when my time is up.” Lining up on runway three one, Captain Poole advanced the throttles and within moments, Charlie 12 Victor was airborne.
Flying toward Ghazni, the air was smooth and in no time, he had the aircraft trimmed out and flying itself. Sitting back in the seat, Captain Poole relaxed for the first time in the entire flight. He had no course deviations to make, just a straight shot to the airport. Looking toward the Colonel “Colonel, would you uh…” A sudden heavy thump caused the aircraft to buck, a light flashed on the control panel and looking out the window, he could see the right engine suddenly came to a sputtering stop. Poole immediately applied full throttle to the left engine to help compensate the loss of the other one. Feathering the engine, he saw a blade was missing, and quickly surmised they had been hit with a missile of some sort or a RPG. Poole quickly ruled out the RPG because of the altitude. But why had it not exploded, taking the wing off the airplane the way they were supposed to work? Looking around the surrounding country, he noted they were close to a range of low mountains.
“Mother Mary! What the Hell was that, Captain?”
“Well, sir, I think we were hit by a defective SAM or a bad Stinger.” Poole calmly said while straining to keep the aircraft aloft. Years of training had taught him to keep a level head, not to panic. “If you remember when we were helping out against the Soviets, we sent truck loads of Stingers to use against the Hinds. Not all have been accounted for. We were lucky, the remaining had not been serviced in several months and in most cases, years, the batteries are low and sometimes they don’t explode.”
All the time he was looking around for an emergency landing area. The aircraft was still in a level flight attitude running on the one engine. The POH claimed the aircraft could fly very well on one engine, though one had to compensate the lack of power on one side by use of the rudder. Turning from the mountain range, they suddenly felt another object slam into the aircraft, spinning it back toward the mountain. Pressing the left rudder pedal, the plane would respond in an almost normal fashion. Trying the right rudder yielded a very different slow response. “I think another one just took out the rudder and probably the vertical stabilizer.”
Turning the yoke to the left caused the plane to tilt to the left, when he applied full left rudder, the airplane slowly began to move from toward the mountains and ever so slowly did the desolate rocky plains come into view.
“We’re losing altitude!” The Colonel cried. “How long can we stay in the air?”
Unable to contain the classic comedy line as he busily began to run through a checklist and at the same time dialing the radio to a designated frequency. “Oh, I imagine we will fly all the way to the scene of the crash.”
“Red Rover, this is Red Rover two four, over.” Poole called over the radio.
“This is Red Rover, over.” Came the reply.
“Red Rover, we have been hit by something, I suspect a defective missile. Anyway, it took out the right engine then another one took out the rudder and vertical stabilizer. We are descending at about three zero zero feet per mike. Will impact ground in less than one five mikes. If able, will destroy hard drive and flash drive, you should have all transmitted data.”
“Roger that. Do you have anyone on board two four?”
“Yes, last passenger on list.”
A brief silence then. “Roger, we have ID’d. You are to low for radar, will attempt to get your location on satellite or predator drone two four.”
“Send a Blackhawk, he should be able to see the smoke from the wreckage because the ground sure looks rough.”
“Roger, we will try to get a couple airborne two four.”
“Try hell, do it, this is not a Club Med beach where we are going to land, Rover. In the words that Cable Guy, ‘Git’er Done.’ That’s it from this end, I am down to about one five zero zero feet and will be real busy for the next few minutes, out here.”
“Roger two four and good luck. If possible, contact us once on ground. Red Rover out.”
“Tighten your seat belt Colonel, this don’t look good at all.”
“Oh God, we’re going to die, aren’t we.”
“Hey, Colonel, we are all born to die, it is just sometimes like this, where we have a good idea of when it will be.” Poole said as he began lowering the flaps until they fully extended. Reaching over he cut the power to the engine fuel pumps. Let the engine burn the fuel in the lines would lessen the chance of a fire in the event the landing went wrong. The remaining engine sputtered and began wind milling. About fifty feet above the ground their speed had bled off until the stall warning horn began to blare; he turned the master electrical switch off. At twenty feet, he began pulling the nose in the air when the aircraft began to drop.
“Hang on Colonel, the pucker factor is going to get real tight!” Poole shouted. They were still traveling about 100 knots per hour when the aluminum belly of the aircraft contacted the rough earth. The aircraft bounded into the air and bounced off the hard rocky earth like a bucking bronco. Each time it made new
contact with the ground; more antenna arrays tore loose, being strewn along the path of travel. During the wild ride inside the cockpit, Poole was thinking to himself “This is a hell of way to treat a seven million dollar airplane.” With a final bone shaking ground contact, it slammed to the earth, sliding right side up toward a shallow ravine. Finally coming to a halt it teetered on the edge for a moment, the lip of the ravine began crumbling from the unexpected weight as the aircraft succumbed to the effects of gravity. Slowly it slid down the side of the gully among an avalanche of loose dirt, gravel and rocks, landing on the now flattened remains of the nose of the aircraft. The sudden stop at the bottom caused a large radio to break loose from its mountings and plunge forward, stopping just inches short of the co-pilots seat and its occupant.
Poole awoke in a daze and with a horrendous headache. As near as he could determine, he had been unconscious for about ten minutes. It was quite dark, or appeared to be. The darkness ruled out the ten minutes of unconsciousness then. He must have been out for about two hours or more. Of course, he could have injured his head or eyes and was not seeing well. Raising his arm, he could see the luminous hands his watch very clearly; it showed twenty one fifteen hours. Looking to his right, he saw Colonel Housley, shaking his head side to side as if he was emerging from water and had to remove the water from his hair.
“Well, so much for this JAG job.” Colonel Housley thought to himself. “Why am I worried about a job? It’s my life that is hanging in a thin thread.” He said aloud to the still aircraft.
“Colonel, you OK?” He asked.
“I think so.” The Colonel said as he began checking his arm and legs to make sure everything still was in working order.
“Follow my lead and let’s see if we can get out of here. We don’t have much time before Rover sends a drone to obliterate the airplane.”
Both men had their entire weight supported by the seatbelt and shoulder harness restraints. Poole raising his legs, felt a pain in his side as he placed them against the instrument panel, he then put the weight on his legs, raising himself enough to ease the tension on the harness. Finally, in position, he unfastened the harness and for the first time pondered his escape from the aircraft. Reaching over to open the window, he experienced pain in his chest and side as before, except this time it was excruciating. Feeling no blood, he realized, he must have broken or cracked his ribs when the harness stopped him.
Taking a deep breath confirmed his suspicions. “OK, we will take it real easy then.” He said to himself. After a few moments, he was able to open the window enough to stick his head out to enable him to look around. He could truly appreciate the predicament the landing put them in. If there was any good news, it was he was only about three feet from the ground. The bad news, that was as far as he could see from his present vantage point.
“Colonel, can you open the window on your side and get out?”
After a few moments, the window opened. “Yes, I can get out. What do we need to take with us?”
“Everything we need is in the rear of the aircraft. I don’t see a way in the world we can get to it. I think I’ve some busted ribs, so climbing up and over these seats is out of the question for me. Rover is supposed to be sending a Blackhawk, so, let’s get out, try to get to where we can signal it and get out of here.”
“Colonel, my flight bag is just behind my seat, it contains a flashlight, can you reach it? If you can, shine the light in the insides so I can see what we got.”
“OK, here I go.” The Colonel said. Turning, he climbed the cramped cockpit until he was standing with both feet on the instrument panel, he then reached behind the seat retrieving Poole’s flight bag. Reaching in he felt around until he secured the flashlight. “Got it, now what?”
“Shine it up in the fuselage, around where the radios are.” A brilliant beam of light swept through the aircrafts interior showing the damage and the miracle of one secure bolt that saved the colonel’s life. It also showed no radio intact and that spelled out, no radio rescue. “OK Colonel, you got everything we can get, so get out the window, I’ll see you on the ground.” Working his way out the window, he fell the final three feet to the ground. The shock of hitting the hard ground caused him to pass out for a few moments. Coming to, he looked at his watch again noting the time elapsed since he checked the time just prior to dropping from the window. Looking around he saw the Colonel was standing next to him.
Extending his hand the colonel said. “Give you a hand?” Grasping Poole’s extended hand he pulled him to his feet.
He didn’t remember what time he called in the missile strike, but he knew the mission he was flying, a drone would soon be overhead with the sole intent of destroying the aircraft to prevent any information leaving the area. If he or any survivors are in or around the aircraft when it showed up, well, they had better make sure they paid for their life insurance policy’s premium.
“Colonel, we have got to get out of this area, a drone or fast mover will soon show up and destroy the Charlie 12 Victor. They will not let an abandoned one fall into enemy hands.”
Moving down the ravine, Poole knew he had to find a way out of it. Once on top, he stood a better chance of being spotted by friendlies, but he also realized he had the same chance of being found by the bad guys.
Poole and the Colonel had traveled down the ravine for about fifteen minutes when they heard an explosion and could see a plume of smoke rising from the destroyed aircraft.
“As nearly as I can tell, we are about one hundred klicks south of Ghazni, and as the man said, we are between a rock and a hard spot. We could head north back toward Jalalabad, but it looks like the mountains to the east is where we came under fire. Those folks wouldn’t be very friendly toward us. Personally, I recommend going southeast to the road that lead to Khost. There should be coalition troops that we can hail. My busted ribs aren’t going to let me get very physical about climbing around the countryside.”
Col. Housley was doing his best to put up a brave front. “I have never been in a situation like this. The worst was a time in a court room, when a client attacked a bailiff.”
“Colonel, I don’t mean to steal anyone’s thunder, but why do you think you are drawing the big combat pay for?”
“Big Pay? Don’t mean to brag, but we make a hundred times that amount preparing a will for a client. A DUI is ten thousand minimum.”
“Man, ten K, what do you get for that?”
“When we get through, the client will have no points deducted, no trace of an arrest and the subsequent investigation. It’s as if it never happened. High profile people use us all the time. In state and out.”
“So, why are you in the National Guard?”
“They needed a JAG, I was offered a Lieutenant Colonel rank. I had always considered taking a pro bono job that supported the troops. I’m a very patriotic person.” He said without a hint of sarcasm.
Nearing the end of the ravine they were traveling, Captain Poole motioned for Housley to stop. Rising about the rim, he carefully scanned the bleak desert for signs of habitation or movement. Seeing nothing, he motioned to the Colonel. “I don’t see anything, but that don’t mean there’s nothing there. In the event any tango’s find us, do not make any fast moves especially as if you are reaching for a weapon. That will get you killed faster than anything. Understand? I know you are the ranking man, but this is my third tour and I have had some dealing with the people. From here on, we look for low areas to help conceal ourselves. It is almost dark, so we travel as fast and far as we can. Fact is, we have no water, I’ve only got two magazines of ammo for my sidearm, and we’ve got no radio because it was busted in the crash.”
“You are a fountain of good news Captain,” the Colonel halfheartedly replied.
“Just want you to know, our predicament is not a good one. This is a vast and tractless land where we own the sky, but as you may have noticed, we are on the ground. I hope the drone got a fix on us and they are mounting a rescue
mission. Well, Colonel lets make tracks while we can. We’ll probably have to find a hidey hole come daylight.” Nursing his injured side, the Captain and his cumbersome companion moved off into the darkness.
Chapter 4