Page 21 of Bullets and Dandelions

“Yes, sir.” Squeezing around his large body, I sat in the pilot’s chair, fastened my harness and did the pre-flight check.

Stone settled into the co-pilot’s chair. “How familiar are you with the weapons systems on a Huey?”

“There weren’t any weapons on the Huey Chuck used in his flight school.”

Stone grimaced. “I’ll handle weapons controls for now.” He gave me a flight helmet. “Put it on. Your blonde hair stands out too much.”

“Yes, sir.” I pulled the helmet on.

“I’ll do all the talking to the control tower. You will maintain radio silence,” Stone said in my ear.

“Yes, sir.”

Sergeant Stone turned a dial on the control console. “Reaper One requesting clearance to depart.”

The air traffic controller responded, “Reaper One you are cleared for takeoff.”

“You heard him. Let’s go.”

I opened the throttle, pushed on the left pedal and pulled the collective. We rose smoothly into the air.

“The coordinates for Kuwait have been inputted,” Sergeant Stone said.

“Yes, sir.” As soon as we cleared King Faisal Air Force Base, I increased our altitude and speed.

Sergeant Stone relaxed in his seat. “What other secrets are you hiding?”

“I love chocolate, sunsets, and long walks on the beach.”

Stone snorted. “Smart ass. How many languages do you speak?”

“Arabic, Farsi, Dari and some Pashto.” I skirted the village of Al-ghat and frowned when a bright flash of light caught my attention. My horrified gaze fixed on a white contrail. “Shit! Incoming.”

The radar began to flash a warning.

“King Faisal air-traffic control, Reaper One is under missile attack,” Stone snarled into his radio mic.

“Copy Reaper One. I am scrambling two F-16’s to assist you,” the air-traffic controller replied.

Sergeant Stone fired a TOT missile at the incoming rocket.Boom!It disintegrated into a ball of flames.

I increased our speed, trying to get us out of missile range.

A black Cobra helicopter shot up from a date grove and opened fire.

Crack!Crack! Crack!Holes appeared in the windshield and bullets thudded against the metal.

Stone triggered the M134 mini-gun and slugs pelleted the Cobra’s fuselage.

The Cobra’s pilot let loose with another deadly volley.

That ass wasn’t shooting me down. “Hang on guys, it’s gonna get a bit bumpy.” I put the Huey into a loop de loop and popped up behind the Cobra. “Blow him to hell Sergeant.”

Cursing loudly, Stone unleashed a barrage of lead.

The Cobra banked left, and I suddenly found myself in a dogfight. Doing my best to keep from getting blown to bits, I put the Huey into a series of turns, dives and rolls. I was dimly aware of Stone bellowing at the King Faisal air-traffic controller.

Yeah. Where was our air support?

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