Igor Yevtishenkov
© Igor Yevtishenkov, 2016
Created with intellectual publishing system Ridero
Acknowledgements
I am deeply indebted to the following people for encouraging and helping me in various ways during the writing of this book: Robin Bithrey, Elaine Bithrey and Yuriy Reitman.
All the characters are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The described events have never occurred in the described geographic areas.
Protected by Copyright Law
Copyright @ Yevtishenkov Igor
Events in Syria in 2015 brought thousands of people from different countries together and caused a clash between them. The reasons why all of them had been there were different, but war and the fear of death always make people equal. The desire to survive forces every human to act and, at times, it is not as he wants and is able. When a terrorist organization gets a weapon that can shoot down airplanes, the militants immediately use it against the American jets. One is brought down and its pilot manages to bail out, but no one knows how to save him. And who can do that? The difficult rescue operation aims to not only find the pilot, but also demonstrate the need for joint actions of all countries in the struggle against new extremist movements in the region. However, these are ordinary soldiers who have to make things happen and their fates, their pains and suffering have become the main theme of this story.
Chapter 1
He had two hours left before taking off. A letter from his sister, as always, was full of nice wishes, home news and greetings from his mother and their neighbours. There was his mother’s standard postscript asking him to be careful because her heart won’t stand it, otherwise… She wrote that so often that it might be copied or used as a header of each page.
Lieutenant Harry Hawking opened the second email. It was from Carol. It was full of «tender kisses», laughter, memories, and a short story about a friend of hers, who got married and the groom ran away from the wedding and now everyone made fun of her. There was an emoticon and short note in the brackets: «Got it?» At the end Carol wrote she hoped he would have returned by the next Super Bowl: «You had known in advance that your favorite Seahawks would lose our Patriots and therefore you had not asked your General to let you be here for the final game. If you were here, I would be happy to see your face. We might have fun together. Six months have passed, you could have dropped at me for a day at least. By the way, Tom Brady’s got 4,551 successful passes and 143 interceptions. Besides, he’s got already two children as well. And he looks pretty good,» she joked.
Harry wrote back to her and added at the end: «Next time you see Tom Brady, tell him what you’d like to be a ball. Let him make the 4,552-nd good pass, and I will catch you here. I hope you will reach me as fast as all his passes did.»
His teammate, Nick, came into the cabin. Spotting Carol’s photo, he smiled and pretended looking the other way.
«Well, are you through emailing? He asked after a while, when Harry stopped typing on the keyboard.»
«Yes, what happened? Do you want to offer me whiskey?» smiled Harry.
«As usual, you’re kidding, but no, not now. A meeting has just been called as I guess they have some news. As I understand it, Intelligence never sleeps.»
«Ah, I see. Clear. They’ll probably talk about the Russians again – you know, be careful, no overlapping, no intersecting. The usual nonsense.»
«No, it seems more serious. Russia proposed to create a joint rescue team,» said Nick in a cheerful tone.
«What?» Harry did not even realize at first. «What team? Rescue? Whom?»
«Allegedly, the pilots and those guys, they mean, some intelligent agents, who may by chance get into the terrorists’ territory.»
«Did they all go crazy? Let them „ride their iron cows“ as long as they are allowed.»
«They are. They have a couple of good jets, though. I’ve seen them,» Nick folded his arms, made a serious face, and looked out the porthole.
«To hell with them! Why do we need them? Who should we rescue? They might have had a jet shot down?»
«No, they might not have, I guess. You take care of yourself, though, just in case!» his partner friendly patted his shoulder and portrayed a faint smile. Harry remembered quite well the case with Captain Simon, who had not returned from his flight and the press had been informed that the plane had crashed when landing on the aircraft carrier. Nick and his flight were flying then just above Simon and had to see everything. It happened at night and no one started digging deeper, though in fact Simon crashed over Aleppo when making a sharp turn over the territory of the rebels. The guys said it looked like he went into a turn that was too steep and lost control at low altitude. Later Nick told Harry that he had seen the dome in the place where Simon had been downed, but his tracker did not work and rebels reported that the plane was burned falling on their fuel storage facility. Nick hoped that Simon had survived although no one group had reported it.
«I will, don’t worry.»
«I heard the terrorists had some new Toyotas. I wonder who could sell them new trucks?»
«Yep, who?» Harry was undoing the last buttons and was ready to get out of the cabin.
«Don’t stare at Toyotas! You have the same one at home, don’t you? So if you see them down there, don’t think to land and drive!» Nick joked and laughed heartily. Harry said nothing. He just shook his head, chuckled, and went on deck.
The instructions were standard. At the end, the Colonel twice repeated that the minimum flight altitude had to be 9,800 feet. They had to destroy the landline facilities to the north of Raqqa. After the mission was completed they were supposed to return to a new base in southern Turkey – under Diyarbakir.
«When you are bombing Raqqa, keep in mind there is Deir-ez-Zor with Assad friends to the south. Don’t mix them up!» Colonel joked. «So far we don’t tend to attack them. Let’em play. Russians support them,» he chuckled. «OK, now aboard!
Harry wanted to make a joke about setting up a joint rescue group for saving their pet Assad, but checked himself in time remembering that it was Nick who had told him about it rather than the Colonel, so it would be better off not to grab too much attention before the flight. All guys also made fun of Russia’s vain attempts to «restore order’ on the earth from the sky. But «the people above» were playing their own games and Washington decided to see what all this would result in, so the pilots from aircraft carriers kept on bombing the targets that disturbed Americans in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Technicians put on their helmets and ran off to the side. The first two jets moved off and went along the deck towards the sea having raised a huge cloud of fine wet dust to the air. A multicoloured rainbow immediately rose above it and Harry’s jet pierced it with its nose gently bouncing on the ski-jump trampoline at the end of the deck. He has loved the sky from his childhood and even now, when thousands of kilometers have left behind him, Harry still adored the feeling of floating and delight that seized him in every climb. Soon white clouds hid the muddy yellow ground with stripes of roads and dots of cities, and he switched to the semi-automatic mode, when the pilot needed only to watch the dashboard and keep in touch with the base.
Chapter 2
Bolt upright officers stood blushing to the disgrace and looked at the floor frowning and listening to the raging commander. Major-General Zakharov was yelling but no one dared arguing with him.
«Whose drone is it? What the hell is that? No, I don’t give a shit, ff…, whose it is!» he didn’t say the four-letter word but just hissed its first letter. «Can you hear me? Can you, tell me exactly where all of goddamn toys are, ff..? Mother ff…, where are they? Suvorov, why the hell are you silent? Where’s a drone report, ff..? Fly to the base! Get in the hangar, cock sucker! Count every piece! Yourself! St. Petersburg