The early morning fog hung low to the ground, like a misty blanket, and the breaking dawn cast long shadows, as we headed into the sun. The landscape consisted of sparse vegetation and sporadic groups of trees and rolling hills. We flew close to the deck as possible, trying to use the element of surprise.
This wasn't like many of our search-and-destroy missions, where the target was ambiguous at best. This time, the "eye in the sky" was giving us clear Intel and confirming this was an enemy staging area. I eased forward on the cyclic and increased the throttle until we peaked at attack speed. Low and fast, we approached on the down-wind side, four hundred yards and closing. I was lead gun ship of three, as we burst through the tree line and crested over the berm.
"Black Lightning, this is Cobra One. Target confirmed. Permission to engage?"
"You are clear to engage," was the immediate reply.
"It's all yours, Pete," I said to my gunner as we broke into the open. The field was filled with infantry, light armor, and artillery still hooked up to their trucks. It was obviously a fire base in the making.
They were totally caught by surprise, probably thinking they were a safe distance from the fighting in the south. I calculated to be around a hundred or more of them exposed in the open. They were scrambling for cover as our mini-gun spit out its lethal fire. They didn't stand a chance. Pete was the best gunner I've ever served with, and he expertly directed his wrath on the panicked, camouflage-dressed enemy. Their bodies fell like cord wood as we became the harbinger of death. War is not glorious, but vile and merciless.
The stunned enemy were so confused that their first reaction was to run and not even shoot back. We maintained our spear-head formation, cutting through the heart of their numbers, each chopper raining out terror. At the far end of the field, there was a bunkered reinforced building, surrounded by a perimeter wall. That small compound was the only protective structure to be seen, and the revolotionary guard were running amass into it.
For me, combat was such an adrenaline high. My senses were always peaked and alive, like no other time. It was as if things were happening in slow motion. Even the smell of the nitrocellulose from the gunfire and JP4 gas was etched into my memory.
Our high speed and downdraft kicked up dust from the ground, as I pushed on the torque pedal and swung around to line up our approach. They had started to regroup from the initial shock, and the tracers from their return fire streaked by with an occasional tick of rounds slamming into our ship's ballistic armor. We concentrated bursts of cannon rounds on the sporadic small arms gunfire coming mostly from the perimeter wall.
"Take it out!" I commanded as we closed in on the building.
A fraction of a second later, Pete released a tow missile and it found its way over the wall and through the front of the fortified building. The initial explosion was marked by a few milliseconds pause, followed by a massive secondary blast. We must have hit a major ammunition depository. Our speed and close proximity to the target deemed we fly through the debris field of exploding munitions. I cranked up the collective to gain altitude, but the shock wave hit us hard, pitching the helicopter violently, and creating a fearful loss of control that no pilot ever wants to experience.
"Shit!" Pete shouted as our wind-screens turned red from the pulverized exploding bodies as we passed through the carnage of the blast field.
I turned on the wipers to clear our visibility as we knifed through the smoke and flame. Suddenly, I was getting a full panel of warning lights and screaming buzzers. The turbine, engine and rotor were all compromised. The intake had sucked up too much debris.
"Can't hold it, we're going down!" I screamed. The yoke lurched violently and the ground approached quickly. Paralyzing fear gripped my guts as it all turned to black.
-oOo-
"Lieutenant Gray... Lieutenant Gray, wake up, you're having a nightmare," a woman's voice echoed through the haze as my eyes cleared.
"Wha... Where am I?" I asked in confusion.
"You're in the hospital, Lieutenant. I'm Lieutenant Halley, your nurse. Can you remember anything?"
I peered through the ragged edges of the bandages at a beautiful woman with gorgeous eyes, and golden hair, dressed in white. If this horrendous pain wasn't coursing through my body, I would have thought she was an angel, and I was in heaven.
"Lieutenant, do you have any recollection of what happened? Do you know who and where you are?... Stay with us."
After a long pause, and fighting to remain conscious I replied, "I'm First Lieutenant Billy Gray, and... I think... I was in a crash... How's Pete?"
"Very good, Lieutenant! The drugs have a tendency to cause memory loss and some confusion. Again, I'm your nurse, Lieutenant Halley. Your doctor will be in shortly. You've been out for three days."
"How's Pete?"
"Um, I'm not at liberty to discuss Warrant Officer Casey's condition. You will have to talk to your doctor about that. If you need pain meds, just push the button."
I immediately pushed the button several times. I felt so tired. The pain was giving way to a relaxed feeling as I drifted off to sleep.
When I woke again, I was being transferred to a metal gurney. Even though I was only semi-conscious, I could tell my injuries were substantial. The sheer number of people in the room and beeping monitors suggested I was in a surgical room. Everyone was so busy that no one noticed I was awake. Pain was hitting me all over, but my back was the worst. It felt like a spike was driven in it.
"He's waking... Doctor, he's waking up." The voice echoed, like I was in a hallway.
A man in a green surgical mask put his face in mine, and then held a plastic mask on me.
"Count back from a hundred," he said.
I counted. "One hundred... Ninety... Nine... Ninty..."
-oOo-
"Wake up, Mr. Gray, it's all over. Do you feel cold? Take deep breaths. Here's some warm blankets. You're in recovery," a pleasant-looking older nurse said as I strained to gain my senses. "Your doctor will be right in. Here's some orange juice," she added, holding up a juice box with a bent straw for me to sip.
"What happened? What am I recovering from?"
"Just relax, and your doctor will explain everything. Try to cough, and clear your lungs."
I had seemed to have lost all sense of time. My memory was but a kaleidoscope of bits and pieces. There was a curtain around my bed, and I was freezing. For the first time since the crash, I was lucid enough to take assessment of my situation. My right arm and both legs were in fiberglass casts. My head was wrapped also. There were IVs coming out of my left arm, and some kind of trapeze rack was supporting my casts.
Suddenly, the curtain opened and an older balding man dressed in green scrubs carrying a clipboard, entered my enclosure with two nurses.
One nurse that looked Asian, was taking my vitals, while the other was injecting something in my IV.
The man looked over my chart and said, "Lieutenant, I'm Dr. Aversion, your neurosurgeon. We just repaired your spine, and placed a rod in your back to assist the healing. Do you have any questions?"
"Yes, sir. I have nothing but questions. To start with: How's my crewman, Pete?"
