Ed Macy - Hellfire

‘We’ve got them buddy,’ I called. ‘They’ve nowhere to go.’

They’d just killed one of our lads. Now I was going to make sure they would never do it again.

My eyes were out on stalks, watching the TADS for the slightest movement.

We rolled out north and began running in. I estimated them to be nearly halfway along the irrigation ditch. They wouldn’t be able to see us now.

Jake and Jon were running in behind us.

The plan was for me to fire cannon rounds towards the top of the tree line to stop them in their tracks, fire a pair of HEISAP rockets to check their alignment and finally to make the necessary correction and hit them hard with another flurry of rockets.

At that point we’d push right and fly up the eastern side of the trees, watching the gap at the top to make sure they didn’t escape.

Jake and Jon would follow suit.

Both of us would then circle like a pair of avenging eagles: we were responsible for the northern escape point; they’d cover the southern fork.

I held the crosshair three-quarters of the way up the tree line, lasing constantly. I squeezed the weapons release trigger hard and called, ‘Engaging’ over the Mission Net.

The second the gun stopped firing I lowered the crosshair to the centre of the wood and actioned the rockets with a flick of a button.

‘Come co-op, Billy.’

‘Co-op,’ he yelled back, letting me know that we were ready to fire rockets co-operatively.

The cannon rounds smashed into the trees with incredible accuracy. I knew they would; we’d DH’d it some hours earlier and got it spot on. The HEDP rounds would be sending shrapnel, fire, branches and splinters all over the place, right across the sniper team’s path. There’s no way they’d run into that lot.

‘Match and shoot.’ My crosshair was dead centre.

‘Engaging,’ Billy called over the radio to let Jake and Jon know it would be their turn in a moment.

A pair of rockets peeled off each side of our airframe and roared towards the target with their arses on fire.

Before they had even impacted I could see they were going too high and to the right.

‘Fucking IPT…’ I set the quantity to eight HEISAPs. We needed a tool to align these launchers and they still wouldn’t buy one.

They landed in the field just right of the gap between the trees and the corner of the wall. I adjusted low and left and called for another volley.

‘Match and sh—’

There was a tremendous whoosh as eight rockets rippled off the wings.

‘My gun.’ I was ready to smash these Taliban to pieces at the same time Jon and Jake fired.

‘Kicking right.’ Billy let the others know they were up.

FUCK…

I had a TADS FAIL and LOS INVALID message in my monocle as soon as the rockets fired. The weapons computer suddenly didn’t know where the TADS was pointing or I was looking. It was a catastrophe. The computer wouldn’t allow me to fire any weapons if it couldn’t corroborate an accurate sight.

All eight rockets cracked straight into the canopy. Splintered branches, trunks and leaves burst out of the centre of the tree line. At least we’d got top marks for adjustment.

‘My gun,’ Billy called. He was as fast as they came in the Apache world and knew from this point onwards that I was just talking baggage. I had no offensive capability beyond firing the weapons in their restrictive head-on-only redundant mode. He could still fight using his monocle.

Jon and Jake were running in on the same approach path. I looked at the gap through the cockpit window to make sure the sniper team hadn’t reached it and quickly ran my eyes southwards.

‘Billy, left and low,’ I called. He wouldn’t see my crosshair now so I had to talk him on.

The trees ran north, bordered by tall crops on either side, and I glimpsed a stretch of track on the right. I could see two of the team almost directly below us.

‘Halfway down the tree line… this side… two men…’

‘Seen.’

As the cannon growled into life the leading Taliban wanted to run, but couldn’t manage much more than a hobble. His companion staggered to a halt and waved frantically to someone behind him, as if trying to hurry him on.

I spotted the third. He was bent double, moving slowly about ten metres behind his mates. He wasn’t in good shape at all, and could barely put one foot in front of the other.

A huge explosion burst through the foliage above their heads.

Taliban Number Three disappeared in a cloud of dust and leaves. Jake and Jon’s rockets had impacted spot on target, a fraction of a second before Billy’s HEDP rounds sent a series of ghostly orange pulses along the track. He’d fired using his monocle and even though we never saw what they struck, the flashes told us his aim was spot on.

The dust wasn’t settling. The ground was like talcum powder. There wasn’t a breath of wind. The gap was still clear.

‘Have I got them?’ Billy said.

‘No idea. But they haven’t escaped north. I’ve got that covered.’

‘Engaging.’ He fired three further bursts into the billowing cloud.

We pulled into a tight orbit and dropped down low.

Jon was flying in the same direction, clockwise, and 180 degrees out. We swarmed the target, waiting for the first sign of life.

‘Wildman Five Four, Wildman Five Five,’ I called. ‘Three Taliban were hit indirectly by your rockets and we think directly by our cannon. They’ve gone unsighted in the dust. Confirm the southern escape route was secure and the fourth man never leaked out that way.’

‘Negative. We can confirm one Taliban dressed in white jumped into the haystack before our rocket hit it.’

What fucking haystack?

We didn’t need to look hard. On the western side of the tree line, just north of the Y junction, was a pall of grey smoke. The haystack was burning ferociously.

Billy and I needed Flechette clearance, and soon. The HEISAP rockets were magic against buildings but rubbish in the open.

When the dust settled, there was nothing left but the smouldering remains of a haystack, a line of burning trees, a succession of craters, splintered branches and fragments of rock. The four Taliban had completely disappeared.

Jon and Jake reported a heat source in the crops to the west, but no movement, and it was debatable if it was big enough to be human.

The crop was about eight feet high and must have had a very damp base to reflect sunlight. If their legs and arms were in the water, or if they were lying hunched up, trying to look smaller, all we’d see was a glowing torso.

Billy and I looked at his PNVS image. We’d just lost a British soldier and the DC had been under months of relentless sniper fire. The only Afghan we had seen down here was the old-timer in the grass shelter by the crossing point. We were sure these scumbags had killed our boy and Widow had taken fire earlier from this very spot. We didn’t want a single one of these guys to fight another day.

Billy opened up with another twenty-round burst.

Mud, water and shredded foliage blossomed along the line of fire and the heat source disintegrated.

We had a perfect view under the trees at this low altitude. We continued to search. But there was no one there.

‘Wildman Five Four, Widow Seven Zero. That’s the convoy in the Green Zone. Send sitrep.’

Jon called on the inter-aircraft radio, ‘We’ll get that.’

‘Widow this is Wildman Five Four,’ Jake said. ‘The sniper team has been destroyed. We are short of gas but will hold on for as long as possible. We’ll be overhead in two minutes.’

‘Wildman Five Four. Wildman Five Two Flight will be with you in two minutes for RIP,’ Pat called. ‘Send update.’

We were just about to cover the convoy back up the slope. There wasn’t much to say.