Chimera полностью

He pressed the armrests of his seat tightly when the aircraft dived again violently. Then the pilot’s voice came on the intercom again:

“Oh my god!”

Group-Captain Roy closed his eyes. A few seconds later there was a massive flash of light from the portside oval window and then an explosion as flames burst into the cabin and spread over the men screaming inside…

The commander of the 55TH Fighter Regiment smiled as his two Flankers banked away after seeing a fireball on the southern horizon. He and his wingman did not get the chance to celebrate for long, though. To his north, the battle between the Indian Su-30s and the PLAAF Flankers had ended with survivors from both sides disengaging. Seven J-11s were flying north while five Indian Su-30s were heading southeast with one of them trailing smoke.

To his west, the battle between the six Mirages and the ten J-11s had been equally brutal. All ten J-11s had been lost and only two Mirage-2000s survived. These two surviving Indian pilots saw that their airborne-radar emissions were lost and the AEW had disappeared from their radar. Their hearts sank instantly when they realized that they had failed to protect that vulnerable special-mission aircraft. But as they flew east, they saw the two escaping Flankers streaking at low level to the northwest…

The two J-11s punched afterburners to escape, but the enraged Mirage pilots were not letting the perpetrators get away that easily. They dived in behind and launched two Matra Super 530D missiles that quickly eliminated their targets in series of explosions at low-altitude…

Back at the Junwei-Kongjun in Beijing, Feng rubbed his eyes as details of the battle started piling in. Of the forty-two J-11s committed to battle by the 55TH Regiment, only nine had returned. In exchange, five Indian Su-30s, Four Mirage-2000s and one of their precious AEWs had been destroyed.

It had been a deadly price. But Punitive-Dragon had achieved its goals of eliminating the Indian airborne-radar presence south of Lhasa as well as chopping off a portion of their leading edge fighters. So it was a victory.

Was it really? Feng wondered and walked out of the room.

“I still don’t understand our involvement in any of this,” Prime-Minister Sinh Triet said.

“And for all practical intents and purposes, there is none!” Chakri stressed again over the telephone. “All we ask is that when the time comes, all you need do is to look the other way, sir.”

The Vietnamese head-of-state went silent over the phone, causing the people in New-Delhi to share silent looks while they waited for an answer.

“I am not comfortable,” Triet said finally, “with what I think is unnecessary secrecy on the matter. And while I am happy to see that Beijing is being badly hurt by its current misadventure against your country, I have to ensure the safety and security of my own as well!”

“I understand,” Chakri replied. He did understand the sentiment.

“It is very complicated, of course,” Triet continued. “I have not forgotten what China did to Vietnam thirty-five years ago. We made them pay for their actions. But we never did pay them back to our satisfaction. We never had the means to do so. And we simply could not purchase those means with our limited financial resources…”

Chakri smiled at the speculation. He got his cue.

“Let me just say this, Mr. Triet,” Chakri said generously. “We at our end have discovered over the past few weeks who our true friends really are. And rest assured we will not forego on that! I give you my word that India will extend the means by which Vietnam could ensure safety from Beijing’s aggression. I am sure options exist, if you follow…”

Yes Mr. Triet. You will get your Prithvi ballistic-missiles…

“I do, minister,” Triet said with a smile from his end. The mutual understanding between the two men had been established. Now it was time to deliver. “And we will certainly take you up on that. For now, all I can say is that like you, we have been living under the threat from Beijing and its imperialistic ambitions in the South China Sea for far too long. If you have the means to strike them where it hurts, all I and the people of Vietnam can say to you is to hit them! And hit them hard!”

“What the hell is all this?” Colonel Misra said as he stepped off his Dhruv helicopter at the helipad of the Dechencholing Palace.

As his paratroopers and the local Bhutanese police maintained a barricade around the crowd of media reporters and journalists, Misra’s operations officer walked over.

“A lot of things have happened since you went to Dotanang, sir. General Potgam is here as well. He arrived from Haa Dzong an hour ago and is waiting for you inside along with the Bhutanese officials.”