“Are you sure about that?”
“Err, no,” Dan says and we both laugh.
While I put on my new combat uniform, Dan and I discuss our upcoming mission. Our discussion firstly centres on Colonel Reed’s initial plan that he mentioned back in the command tent. To fly in when Operation Denial is advancing, using it as a diversion, fast-roping onto the roof of the Orion Building, re-entering the building through the hole we blasted into the roof to retrieve the safe, then we fall back to the roof to be picked up by the waiting helicopters. This mission plan, on the face of it, does seem like a favourable option and neither Dan nor I have thought of a better plan in the time we have had to think about it since the command tent.
We both agree that any other option would involve substantially more troops to execute. If we were to try and make the Orion building safe and clear of Rabids, for example, air support and troops would be needed to firstly secure the grounds of the building and form a perimeter, and then more troops would be needed to clear the building. Such a plan would require troops in the hundreds to be on the ground in addition to aircover. Even if we had that number of troops at our disposal, it would take extensive planning, timing and air transport to fly the troops in. And even then, the risks would be colossal and unpredictable. Colonel Reed and his cronies must have discounted this type of plan as quickly as we have.
We both agree that the mission will be based on and planned around the one touted by the Colonel and we start to delve deeper into it.
Now kitted out in my new combat uniform, including body armour, I feel more like I belong in the team, never mind commanding it. I don’t use the new boots that were in the holdall though, I stick with my worn-in and comfortable hiking boots. I have used the new hip gun holster that was in there, even though my old shoulder holster is also in place with my Sig inserted, as I intend to take one of the Glocks that I saw with the equipment in the hangar with me, as well as the Sig.
As Dan and I are delving further into our plan for the mission, there is a knock at the door. I assume it is Sergeant Dixon reporting to me as ordered, but the door opens and Josh sticks his head in.
“It looks like Denial is underway, the Apaches are all starting to taking off,” Josh tells us.
Both Dan and I check our watches which tell us it’s 1010 hours.
“I’ve got to see this,” Dan says excitedly as he gets up from his chair and bashes his way out from behind the desk.
“You and me both,” I tell him as I quickly head for the door Josh has already vacated.
As Dan and I exit the small office, I realise I have inadvertently picked up the sand-coloured SAS beret that I had put onto the desk, whether this was a force of habit or something else, I can’t say. Deciding I am overthinking it, I lift the beret and fit it to the top of my head, and mould it around my head with my hands until it is snugly in place and pointing down the right side of my head.
Everybody else from the hangar is already standing in a group on the sun-drenched tarmac outside, looking at the awesome sight in front of us. I go and stand with them next to Josh, to watch as one after another, legions of Apache Attack helicopters lift off and take to the air.
There must be twenty Apaches or so in the air already by the time I have joined the others, but these don’t fly off into the distance; they move forward slowly, allowing others to take off behind them and join the expanding formation. The noise is deafening from our relatively close distance and only gets louder as more take to the air. There is a definite strong breeze, buffering us from the downdrafts of the accumulated rotors.
Away to our left, ground crew choreograph this flying dance, making the pilots of the Apaches due to take off next wait until the ones they have just released have flown off to a predetermined safe distance. When the next ones are released, the ground crew duck down, in some futile attempt to escape the serious buffering they must still receive from the rising helicopters.
I look around at my newly assembled team and they are all looking up and taking in the fascinating sight. Even the hardened Special Forces members of the team can’t take their eyes off the sight and they talk to each other with their heads still lifted, moving to the side slightly when they have something to say. The different Regiments are also talking together, which is a very good sign. I definitely haven’t seen such a large swarm of helicopters in the sky at one time, and I doubt if any of us have. And by the time all of the helicopters are in the air, I would doubt if anybody else ever has.
“Incredible isn’t it?” I say nudging Josh at my side.
“You can say that again, I’ve never seen anything on this scale, have you?” Josh almost shouts in reply.
“No, this is the most I have seen in the sky at any one time, there must be forty or fifty, up there.”
I assume the reason none of the Apaches is flying off is that command has decided they all need to arrive at the same time at an agreed point as the troops on the ground. This will allow for the troops to get into position before the noise of the helicopters starts to ‘wake up’ the Rabids and they get into a frenzied state; the value of
