Once the Whiskey Cobras whipped over the ridgeline Goose had used as his observation post, the Harriers pulled away. Evidently, the two teams communicated on their own wavelength.
Besides the 20mm autocannon mounted under the nose, the Whiskey Cobras were also decked out with two LAU-68 rocket pods on the inside pylons that were flanked by two Hellfire antitank missiles and four antipersonnel bombs. The Whiskey Cobras, guided by instrumentation, sped into the cloud of smoke and dust that nearly obscured the battlefield.
A moment later, the rocket pods spat flames and carnage, ripping into the landscape and the Syrian army troops. The Hellfire missiles struck a staggered line of tanks, fast-attack vehicles, and armored personnel carriers. Goose’s hopes lifted more as he saw the mass of destruction the Marine pilots left in their wake. Despite the differences in the branches of service, Goose respected the other soldiers and their equipment. After today, he felt certain the Syrians would as well.
Bravo and Echo rifle companies kept moving to secure the border along the craters and wrecked vehicles.
Turning, Goose sprinted back toward the LZ he had marked off for the team. The landing zone was on the flattest terrain available, but the smoke and dust hanging in the air lowered ground zero visibility drastically.
“Phoenix Leader,” an unfamiliar voice called over the headset. “This is Excaliber Leader. We are at your twenty but can’t find the LZ. Repeat, we do not see the LZ.”
“Affirmative, Excaliber. Phoenix has you in sight. We’re rolling out the red carpet.” Goose switched over to the frequency his team was using. “All right, mark it off. Pop smoke.”
In response, preset smoke grenades detonated electronically, marking off a trapezoid-shaped LZ that Phoenix team had verified as being clear of large boulders, broken ridges, or other landing hazards.
“Excaliber,” Goose called, “do you have the target LZ in sight now?” A heartbeat passed.
“Affirmative, Phoenix. Excaliber has your LZ in sight. We’ll rendezvous at your twenty.”
“Understood, Excaliber. I’ll be the Ranger with the big grin on his face.” Goose ran, heading for the LZ.
“Incoming!” Hardin yelled.
Instinctively, Goose went to ground. He held on to the M-4A1 with one hand and grabbed his helmet’s chin strap with the other. His face skidded across the hard-packed ground, losing hide as well as the kerchief masking his lower face. He breathed in and choked on the dust an instant before the artillery rounds collided with the terrain.
The radio communications crackled and spat through Goose’s headset. Making sense of the garbled lines was difficult.
“Where is that artillery crew?”
“Don’t know, Blue Falcon Leader. We’re searching.”
“Find them.” The Marine pilot cursed. “Those men and those transport helos are going to get blown to bits.”
“I’m hit! I’m hit!”
More artillery shells continued to land, chewing into the turf. Craters opened up in the LZ. One of the CH-46E helicopters took a direct hit while the group held back rather than charging into the LZ the Syrians had targeted.
Peering up with his arm shielding his face, feeling the sting of the skinned cheek, Goose saw the helo sag drunkenly. Orange and black flames whooshed from the cargo door, blowing the group of Marines from the cargo space like flaming puppets. Their arms and legs pinwheeled as they fell at least seventy feet. There would be few—if any—survivors.
The CH-46E was distinctive because of the twin rotors, one at either end of the fat-bodied aircraft. The model was primarily a cargo helicopter, giving it the CH designation, but could be used as a troop carrier. Originally, the CH-46 had been built to carry twenty soldiers, but increased armor and structural upgrades had cut that number to between eight and twelve men.
“Phoenix Leader,” Bernhardt called.
Goose barely heard the man over the garbled dialogue coming through the headset. “Go, Echo. You have Phoenix.”
“We’ve got the artillery company in sight, Goose.”
“Understood. Can you shut them down?”
Battling the indefatigable pull of gravity, the damaged CH-46 slid toward the merciless ground. An instant later, the rotors chopped into the hard earth and shattered on contact. Shards of composite metal sliced through the air.
“It’s no-man’s-land out there, Phoenix,” Bernhardt replied. “Our air support has us cut off.”
“Blue Falcon Leader,” Goose called. “Can you see those Rangers?”
“Negative, Phoenix,” the Marine pilot replied. “It’s duck soup down there. We’ve stayed true to our line of demarcation.”
Goose thought furiously as the fierce shelling continued virtually unabated. If the Harrier pilots had been able to see through the smoke and dust to see Echo Company, they could have targeted the enemy artillery. “Echo, can you put a smoke round near the artillery?”
“That’s pushing two hundred meters, Phoenix.”
“Understood,” Goose replied. The M-203 grenade launcher’s accuracy was only good out to a hundred and fifty yards. “Put a round out there.”
“Will do, Phoenix.”
“Blue Falcon Leader, did you copy?” Goose asked.
“Affirmative, Phoenix. Blue Falcon will be watching for smoke.”
“Your target will be fifty yards south of the smoke,” Bernhardt said. “Mark—now!”
Turning, Goose peered back across the border. A second later, a plume of violet smoke shot up from the ground, coloring the dust and smoke like ink from a startled squid.
“Echo, Blue Falcon Leader marks your target designation and I have a verified lock,” the Marine pilot said. Target lock required laser spotting from another source. Goose guessed that one of the other Harriers or the Whiskey Cobras had pinpointed the target. “Pull your team back and take cover. Gonna be a big blast over in that twenty.”
The Harrier heeled over in the air above Goose’s head, splintering sunlight for a moment, then diving back toward the battlefield. The pilot kept his deadly craft low, charging into the teeth of the artillery fire. Then a pillar of fire launched up from the ground whirling orange flames and black smoke from the Hellfire missile’s double detonation.
The artillery fire stopped immediately.
“Way to fire, Blue Falcon Leader!” Bernhardt called.
“Phoenix, Excaliber is coming in.”
“Come ahead, Excaliber. We’re clean and green as it’s going to get.” Goose pushed himself to his feet, feeling the weakness in his knee and shoulder.
“Affirmative. We’ve
