The sunset was already reddening the sky and casting long shadows across the hills when the radio crackled into life again. ‘Echo Fourteen. Hostiles reported 179502. Investigate.’
I suppressed a groan and acknowledged the order. We had been flying for over eight hours, sortie after sortie over a land already scarred by fighting, arriving always too late, to find another village in ruins, another pillar of black smoke reaching up into the sky.
I banked the heli around and headed north-east over the dusty Macedonian hills. I dropped to low-level as we approached the Kosovan border, and began twisting and turning, hugging the contours of the land. We soared to clear a last mountain ridge and then dropped into the target valley.
Ahead was a familiar scene: a hamlet, a cluster of houses sheltering in the lee of the hills, surrounded by a belt of woodland. I could see columns of smoke and the flicker of flames piercing the jagged outlines of ruined houses. Of the inhabitants there was no sign.
I put the heli into a broad turn around the hamlet, my eyes raking the open ground and the edges of the woodland. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a group of rectilinear outlines in the shadows among the trees – trucks or maybe even tanks using the wood for cover. My flesh crept, but I maintained the same course until we had passed out of sight beyond the end of the wood. I radioed base. ‘Possible hostiles sighted. Over.’
Then I jabbed the intercom. ‘Keep alert, guys. There are at least six vehicles among the trees. I’m making another pass along the edge of the wood. Echo Thirteen, follow me through.’
I heard a thud behind me as the gunner slid open the door of the cab and swung his gun to cover the target. I swooped in low and fast past the edge of the wood, using my peripheral vision to search for the outlines among the trees. Once more there was no sign of people and no firing, only the tantalising, half-hidden shapes.
I had now made out eight distinct forms under the trees and a long, tapering black cylinder angled upwards at 45 degrees. It could have been the barrel of a tank gun; it could equally have been a fallen tree. I passed beyond the end of the wood and banked in a tight turn, as my wingman followed me through. The intercom crackled as he completed his pass. ‘Definite hostiles,’ he said. ‘Let’s go for it.’
I hesitated. ‘Negative. Am not sure. Going in again.’
As we dropped back towards the wood, I lowered our speed. A flash of the dying sunlight reflected from my co-pilot’s helmet as he turned to look at me. ‘Jesus, Jack,’ he said. ‘How much of an invitation are you going to give them?’
‘We’ve got to be sure.’
‘We’ll be sure enough when we’re dead.’
As we reached the midpoint of the wood, I flared the heli, putting it into the hover. The force of the downwash threw the branches aside for a moment and I at last saw movement – figures sprinting towards the vehicles. I sped up and away from the wood.
I reached for the radio. ‘Figures and vehicles sighted.’
The answer came back before I had posed the question. ‘Clear engage.’
I kept circling. My wingman’s voice came over the intercom. ‘What are we waiting for?’
My co-pilot’s gaze was still fixed on me. ‘Well?’ he said.
Abruptly I made the decision. ‘Engage.’
I headed out in a wide loop and then dropped to minimum level, accelerating back towards the long shadow of the wood. The trees rose like a dark wall ahead of us. I held the heli level for a few more seconds as I stared into the cross hairs. They intersected on the largest shape inside the trees and I pulled the trigger once, twice.
There was a whoosh as the rockets streaked from the pod. I sent the heli soaring up into the sky. A moment later, there was a massive explosion and a bubble of oily flame and black smoke belched upwards through the trees. The gun thundered as the door gunner raked the edge of the wood. There was no answering fire.
I saw my wingman complete his attack run as I banked for another pass. I dropped in low, the turbines screaming, my finger once more tightening on the trigger. A microsecond before I fired, a figure burst from the wood, a human torch burning from head to toe. The long black skirt flapping around the woman’s legs was a sheet of flame.
I jabbed the intercom button. ‘Abort. Abort.’ I peered down. The woman was still wreathed in flame, her arms raised, her hands spread wide in supplication. She threw her head back. I saw her mouth opening in a silent scream. Then she slumped to the ground, a shapeless, burning mound of rags.
I turned for base, the ground blurring before my eyes as tears trickled down my face.