ARMAGEDDON'S SONG (Volume 3) 'Fight Through' Read Online Free Page A

and clipped it to his
harness before climbing as fast as he safely could toward the crack where it
suddenly yawned to become a chimney.
    Back on the ground Lt Brooks used his binoculars to
check that everyone on the face was as near invisible as possible, but the
major and Alladay were still in clear view.
    The sound of the helicopter was growing louder and his
Stinger men were looking over their shoulders at him for permission to activate
the weapons infrared seekers. If the aircraft happened to be equipped with a
sensor suite the super-cooled ‘eyes’ could register upon it, giving away their
presence as surely as actually loosing off a missile at them, so he shook his head
emphatically before again raising his binos. Richard had gained the lower
reaches of the chimney and was squeezing himself inside, hollering down the
face
    “OFF BELAY...FREESTYLE IT, ALLADAY!” informing the NCO that he was safe to release himself
but that he himself was not belayed-on, so putting weight on the rope that
connected them would result in Richard being pulled bodily from the rock face.
Alladay untied himself and went up the face, moving as quickly and surely as
had his officer.
    Appearing at first as a small dot, the Chinese
helicopter gradually grew in size as it flew toward them between towering rock
walls. Garfield looked desperately up at the Royal Marine Commando, willing him
to climb even faster than he presently was.
    Garfield had to make a decision, the aircraft was fast
approaching minimum engagement range and the Stingers needed a few moments to
acquire their target. He could stand down the Stingers and trust that Alladay
would be able to get into cover by the time it arrived. Otherwise Garfield
would probably blow the entire operation by ordering the men holding the
weapons to engage and destroy.
    “Sir?” one of the men asked, wanting to know what they were to do.
    Now I know why they pay me more than a trooper,
Garfield thought.
    “Stand down and get into cover.”
     
    The approaching light helicopter looked remarkably
similar to a French Aerospatiale AS355 Twin Ecureuil, the military version of
the ‘Squirrel’, but was in fact a Chinese copy, the Z-11.
    Until a couple of weeks before, the main natural
hazard of operating helicopters in the region had been the dust and heat. The
aircraft were all equipped for those conditions, with dust filters for the
intakes and hot weather lubricants for the engines.  The snow and
plummeting temperatures had brought to a halt the increased patrolling that had
become the norm since the start of the war. The sub-zero temperatures turned
the lightweight lubricants into heavy treacle and the dust filters iced over,
starving the engines of oxygen.
    The Z-11s pilot was not ecstatic about being a guinea
pig, flying the first sortie since the arrival of arctic standard lubricants.
The dust filters had been replaced and a crew chosen to carry out a test
flight, which proved to be the ones least in favour with their commander.
    Two hundred feet up the face the commander of the SAS
Mountain Troop detachment pressed himself as close to the rock as he could. Lt
Shippey-Romhead could not see the Z-11; he had left the traverse to climb into
shadow around a corner of rock, away from the approaching helicopter. The only
holds here were widely spaced and his rope, tied off at the belay point below
did not allow him sufficient slack to accomplish it easily, it was pulling him
sideways. The young officer was spread eagled across the rock, uncomfortably
overstretched and silently urging the PLA aircraft to hurry up and bugger off. The involuntary tremors began in his right leg, a
phenomenon known to climbers as ‘Elvis leg’, where tired or over-stressed leg
muscles display disquiet at the treatment demanded of them. The SAS officer
cursed the rope that was contributing to his discomfort and concentrated on
stilling the tremors in his limb, willing it to behave but his left leg came
out in sympathy,