plainly see Leo and John sitting behind the door gunner. In total, there were twenty-four helicopters flying so close to the ground that Lev was actually worried about colliding with one of the tall cactus plants he saw whizzing by below.
Through the cockpit window, Wilson saw the first surface-to-air missile streak skyward before hitting one of the drones in a fiery explosion that lit up the desert and sent jackrabbits scurrying for their holes. Seconds later, a dozen more missiles shot into the sky, knocking out an equal number of the single-minded drones flying en masse over the ranch.
Then, inexplicably, the sky turned quiet as the remaining drones flew on without triggering a single missile.
Lev moved up between the two pilots in the cockpit of the Blackhawk and tapped Wilson on the shoulder. “What’s happening, Colonel?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, Professor. Either a lot of missiles failed to fire for some reason, or they discovered that they were shooting million-dollar rockets at drones and adjusted their fire-control computers.”
Just then, an F-15 thundered over their heads and released a laser-guided smart bomb from under its right wing. Seconds later, Acerbi’s hangar evaporated in a shattering explosion that left nothing but scattered debris extending outward from a blackened, star-like pattern on the ground.
A second fighter spotted a large passenger jet that had just taken off from the runway behind Acerbi’s house and followed it up through the clouds. They had been told in their briefing to prepare for this-that Acerbi might be onboard any aircraft that took off during an attack, but whether or not he was onboard didn’t matter. For all practical purposes, this ranch was considered enemy territory, and any aircraft associated with it was considered a righteous target.
After locking onto the jet with his combat targeting computer, the pilot was just preparing to fire a Phoenix missile when he saw dozens of faces inside the lighted cabin, staring out into the darkness through the windows. Flying closer, he could see that several of the passengers were women, and two faces looked much smaller than the others.
Descending at the speed of sound, the Israeli pilot let loose with one of his smart bombs, and as he watched it home in on the hacienda, he saw the flash from the launch of a surface-to-air missile as it blasted from its camouflaged hiding place and headed straight for his descending fighter plane. From that point on, it was a race between rocket power and afterburner as the F-15’s pilot turned and pointed the nose of his plane straight up in an attempt to outrun the deadly arrow now chasing him. Seconds later, a flash in the heavens signaled that the missile had either hit the fighter or exploded before it reached its target.
Looking skyward, the crews in the choppers had little time to ponder the fate of the fighter pilot as they saw the hacienda disappear in a thunderous explosion, while all around them the desert began erupting in flashes of brilliant light that signaled the launch of dozens of missiles, all headed toward the inbound helicopters. Their worst fears had just been realized.
“Turn around!” Lev shouted. “They know we’re coming … the drones didn’t work!”
Before Wilson could even begin to swing the chopper around, they were enveloped in a fireball that sent the big helicopter spinning out of control toward the desert floor. Seconds later, a jarring crash ejected both Lev and Alon through the open door into an area of soft sand. Trying to come to grips with the fact that he was still alive, Lev rose to his feet and checked his body for injury before running toward the dark shape of the burning chopper, lying on its side like a giant wounded bird.
Inside the cockpit, he found Ed Wilson, his helmet cracked in half and his face covered in blood as his twisted body lay smashed between his seat and the crumpled instrument panel. As soon as Lev saw the man’s jerky, agonal breathing pattern, he laid his hand gently on Wilson’s torn shoulder and began to pray, for he knew from experience that the colonel’s last moments were upon him, and that soon he would be in the arms of God. Before his prayer was finished, the breathing had stopped. Ed Wilson-warrior, father, and husband-was dead.
“Get out of there, Lev!”
Lev turned away slowly and saw Alon standing outside. He was limping, and his left arm was hanging uselessly down at his side. It was only then that Lev noticed the flames in the back of the chopper. With his good right arm, Alon reached in and literally pulled Lev through the jagged remains of the cockpit door. Together they backed away from the Blackhawk just as the fire whooshed through the cabin and totally engulfed what remained of a once proud flying machine.
Lev fell to his knees as a series of explosions rocked the ground around them. One after another, helicopters began falling from the sky, littering the desert with heaps of burning, twisted wreckage, while overhead, an orange trail of fire marked the spiraling descent of an F-15 that was missing a wing.
In the distance, they could see the bouncing headlights of vehicles heading their way.
“We’ve got to get out of here, Lev. Come on … we need to head north.”
Lev focused his attention on Alon’s injuries. “Can you make it?”
“My arm’s busted, but my legs are still working. I think I may have cracked a rib or two, but I’ll make it. I’ve been worse off.”
“Ok, let’s go.”
As they alternated between hobbling and trying to run over the rocky desert terrain, they could hear sporadic gunfire in the distance. Darkness was a false cover, for they knew Acerbi’s men had night vision goggles. The small sand dunes covering the ground around them would be their only place to hide.
The headlights from the vehicles could be seen crisscrossing the desert, going from one piece of flaming wreckage to another, and then there were the gunshots. Lev shuddered when he thought of what was happening to his men out there in the darkness. He wondered how many had been able to escape.
“Get down!” Alon whispered. “There’s some men headed our way on foot.”
Flattening themselves against the ground behind a small dune topped by a large stand of cactus, they reached for the only weapons they had.
“I think they’re over here.” A voice called out in the darkness. “Lev … Alon … is that you?”
Alon winced with the pain from his injuries. “Those are our guys!”
“Who’s there?” Lev shouted.
“It’s me … Ben … Ben Zamir!”
The two men lay there, unable to make themselves move as they peered at the dark shapes crossing in front of them in a zig zag pattern. In the light from the moon, they could see the young face of Ben Zamir leading a group of about a dozen men, including Leo and John.
Lev stumbled to his feet. “We thought you were all dead!”
“We thought the same thing about you, Professor. Your chopper was the first one hit. After they stopped shooting at the drones and started taking out helicopters I knew they were on to us, so I ordered everyone to land.”
“You landed! All of you?”
“The missiles took out five of the lead choppers before the rest of us landed. It was the only thing we could do with all those missiles coming at us.”
“But we saw dozens of fires on the ground … fires everywhere.”
“We set them. We wanted to draw Acerbi’s men in close by making them think they had shot all of us down. They thought they were coming to finish us off. You should have seen the looks on their faces when they drove up to an undamaged chopper sitting on the ground next to one of the fires we had lit. It was the last sight their eyes ever saw.”
“So that was all the gunfire we heard.”
“Yeah … most of our men are still out there. Acerbi’s people retreated back toward his compound. I figure they’re scared to death of coming back out here in the dark knowing the area is covered with American and Israeli Special Forces troops.”