Page 67 of Confessions of an Apache Pilot

I could see why Laura and Brady were having a hard time. There were patches of clouds all throughout the area. Not scattered across the sky, but hovering around the valleys. You had to get into each one of them to see if it was where they went down.

Panic tried to rise up, and with every bit of strength I had I fought it down. Laura was speaking with the certainty that he landed. But we didn’t know that for sure. Not yet. It hadn’t occurred to me until this very moment that they may have crashed. It was my brain’s way of protecting my heart.

He landed. He must have. I’m not going to lose him, not when I’m finally ready to love him.

We closed in on the coordinates and saw Laura and Brady’s aircraft searching. We were over another mountain range, with canyons and valleys in all directions.

Where the hell do we start?

Movement in my peripheral had my head snapping down and left. A dust cloud from a vehicle. A pickup truck with people in the back. I keyed the radio, “Laura, I have movement at my eleven o’clock. A truck in a hurry to get somewhere. Do you think they saw him go down?”

“Roger, I have another one east of you. The roads intersect and continue into the valley. That’s likely where they set down.”

Damn. Now we really had to hurry. I pushed forward on the controls while pulling in more power, accelerating past the truck. We were way faster, but we still had to find and extract Mark and Artie. The last thing we wanted was for those trucks to catch up to us while we were on the ground.

We shot up the valley and I climbed high enough to give us the best view. “Eyes open everyone, they’re down here, and those assholes are right behind us.”

“There!” Karolyn shouted, “Four o’clock, come around.”

I banked hard to the right, hard enough that I was glad Karolyn and Ricochet were strapped in. We were in a nearly ninety-degree bank, anything not strapped down would probably fall out. I immediately saw it. Mark’s aircraft was on the ground.

The panic was momentarily relieved. The helicopter was upright and seemingly intact. That meant that he didn’t crash, but had control of the landing. That also meant that Mark and Artie should be uninjured. That revelation brought some relief. It was short lived. There were two trucks parked near the Apache. We did a high recon, we circled around high enough to be out of rifle range, but close enough to see if there was any movement.

We saw nothing. No movement, no bodies.

I made a rapid descent to land next to the helicopter.

“When we set down, you hold the controls and be ready to take off.” I told Nick.

“Where are you going? Stay in here and let them look.”

“Let who look, Nick?” I motioned back at Ricochet. “You want him to go alone?”

“No,” Nick grumbled. “Sorry, I’m not used to being on the ground for the fighting.”

“You stay here. One of us needs to be able to fly if things go sideways. Karolyn, you stay with him and watch our six. Stay alert. I don’t want anyone sneaking up on you.”

I set down as close as I could without our rotor blades hitting the Apache, about fifty feet. I unbuckled my harness and opened my door. I jumped out with my rifle in hand. Thanks to the short magazine that Mark had given me, it didn’t get tangled on the way out. My feet hit the ground and I was moving, rifle up and at the ready, Ricochet beside me.

Ricochet was out and walking on my left, rifle raised at the ready. I spared a glance towards him. His left hand came up and made a forward motion. Together we walked towards the cockpit.

There was no one inside. The canopies were open but...where was he?

“Look here.” Ricochet held up a shell casing and pointed towards the hills. There were two bodies, insurgents, lying dead. They’d been on the opposite side of the aircraft, concealed from our view until now. I glanced down and saw more casings on the ground. The thundering in my chest as my heart took off threatened to make me break down completely. There had been a firefight. Mark wasn’t here. Neither was Artie. They were still alive, they had to be. Gunfire erupted from behind us, bullets bouncing off of the Apache.

Everything slowed. My heart was no longer racing out of control. It steadied out into an even thrum, like when you hit your stride jogging. The panic was gone and I was starting to see clearly now, hyper focused. Mark’s voice was ringing in my head, driving my actions.

Pivot on the ball of your foot, head, arms and rifle move together.

I turned toward the gunfire, rifle raised. I stopped at the first shooter. He was barely thirty feet away. Five rounds. I fired. He dropped. I pivoted again to the next one and let off another five. I heard the ‘thunk’ of the rifle bolt locking back, empty. Immediately, I swept the rifle to my side and threw it behind me, then transitioned to my pistol. Holding it out, I kept scanning the area.

Ricochet approached the front of the aircraft, I stepped to his right and followed. Two more raised their rifles at us as we rounded the front. Our shots rang out in unison, Ricochet’s rifle and my pistol. The intruders dropped before they had a chance to fire. The area around Mark’s Apache was now clear.

“Let’s go.” Ricochet grabbed my arm and pulled me back to our helo.

I looked over to him. Before I could ask he said, “We have to keep moving. They’re on the run and we’re wasting time down here. We’re an easy target, and the longer we stick around the more they’ll shoot at us and your Black Hawk. Once we get some altitude we can search for Shep. They probably went into the hills.”

I wasn’t about to protest. He was right, staying here was wasting time and drawing fire. I looked up just before getting back in, Laura and Brady were overhead now. I jumped in and closed my door. Nick didn’t hesitate, a quick glance back to make sure that Ricochet was in and then he pulled up on the controls and took off.

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