The copilot emerged from the cockpit. He literally had to hug the port-side wall to get past the hatch before cutting to the starboard side to shut it.
Rodgers hoped he made it. The last thing the general saw before jumping was the small-built Indian flyboy tying a cargo strap to his waist before even attempting to crawl toward the sliding door.
Rodgers held his legs together and pressed his arms straight along his sides as he hit the icy mountain air. That gave him a knife-edged dive to get him away from the plane so he would not be sucked into the engine. He immediately reconfigured himself into an aerofoil position.
He arched his body to allow the air to flow along his underside. At the same time he thrust his arms back and dipped his head to increase his rate of descent.
The general was now looking almost straight down. Almost at once he knew he was in trouble.
They all were.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX.
The Great Himalaya Range Thursday, 4:42 p. m.
At 4:31, Major Dev Pun's spotter. Corporal Sivagi Saigal, saw something that concerned him. He reported it to Major Pun. The officer was deeply troubled by what he heard.
Prior to leaving, he had been assured by the office of minister of Defense John Kabir that reconnaissance flights in the region had been suspended. Neither Kabir nor Puri wanted independent witnesses or photographic evidence of what they expected to transpire in the mountains: the capture and execution of the Pakistani terrorists and their prisoner from Kargil.
The fly over of the Himalayan Eagle AN-12 transport was not only unexpected, it was unprecedented. The transport was over a dozen miles from the secure flight lanes protected by Indian artillery. As the spotter continued to watch the plane, Puri used the secure field phone to radio Minister Kabir's office. The major asked the minister's first deputy what the aircraft was doing there. Neither Kabir nor any of his aides had any idea. The minister himself got on the line. He suspected that the fly over was an independent air force action designed to locate and then help capture the Pakistani cell.
He could not, however, explain why that mission would be undertaken by a transport. Kabir told Puri to keep the channel open while he accessed the transport's flight plan.
As he waited, Puri did not believe that the presence of a recon flight would complicate matters. Even if the cell were spotted, his unit would probably reach them first. Puri and his men would explain how the cell resisted capture and had to be neutralized. No one would dispute their story.
Kabir came back on in less than a minute. The minister was not happy.
The AN-12 had gone to Ankara and had been scheduled to fly directly to Chushul. Obviously the aircraft had been diverted. The transport's manifest had also been changed to include parachutes in its gear.
A few moments later, Puri understood why.
'Jumpers!' he said into the radio.
'Where?' Kabir demanded.
'They're about one mile distant,' the spotter told Puri.
'They're using Eagle chutes,' he said when the shrouds began to open, 'but they are not in uniform.'
Puri reported the information to Kabir.
'The Eagles must have spotted the cell,' the minister said.
'Very possibly,' Major Puri replied.
'But they're not wearing Eagle mountain gear.'
'They might have picked up an outside team in Ankara,' Kabir replied.
'We may have been compromised.'
'What do we do?' Puri asked.
'Protect the mission,' Kabir replied.
'Understood,' Puri replied.
The major signed off and told his unit commanders to move their personnel forward. They were all to converge on the site where the parachutists were descending. Puri's orders were direct and simple.
The troops were to fire at will.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN.
The Great Himalaya Range Thursday, 4:46 p. m.
Ever since they competed on the baseball diamond back in elementary school. Colonel Brett August always knew that he would rise above his longtime friend Mike Rodgers. August just never expected it would happen quite this way and in a place like this.
Striker's delicately ribbed, white-and-red parachutes opened in quick succession. Each commando was jerked upward as the canopies broke their rapid descent. Some of the Strikers were hoisted higher than the others, depending on the air currents they caught. The wind was running like ribbons among them. Separate streams had been sent upward by the many peaks and ledges below. Though Mike Rodgers had been the last man out of the aircraft the general was in the middle of the group when the canopies had fully unfurled.
Brett August ended up being the man on top.
Unfortunately, the view from that height was not what Colonel August had expected.
