Angels Don't Die (Madeleine Toche Series Book 2) (27 page)

BOOK: Angels Don't Die (Madeleine Toche Series Book 2)
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Like most fighter pilots, the feeling of being at the controls of a plane was like nothing else on earth.  He glanced out the window, at the jeep with his fellow Legionnaires leaving the airfield.  “So this is what would scare you to death, buddy?”  Hinni eased the throttle forward, the plane responding instantly. “You just don’t get it, that’s the whole point,” Hinni said to himself.  He pushed the throttle forward and the plane began to build speed quickly for takeoff.  Once he was in the air, Hinni pulled the throttle back and shot almost vertically into the night sky.  The g force pushed him back.  He gave a shout of joy in his excitement. Reaching altitude, he banked sharply toward the sunrise.

 

             
As Ariel and her team moved away from the airfield, she heard the plane move down the runway. She saw the plane leave the ground and rocket into what remained of the night sky.  The rate of acceleration was unbelievable.  The pilot knew what he was doing.  Once the plane was out of view, she jogged to catch up to the rest of her team.

 

             

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

 

 

 

             
When mid-morning came, all Madeleine could do was to place one foot in front of the other.  She could feel herself taking as many steps sideways as she did forward.  Her head was pounding as she tried to keep her eyes open.  She knew that if help didn’t arrive soon or she found water she was going to die very soon.  She was beyond desperation and was nearing the point of embracing death to avoid any more agony, but she kept moving.  From time to time she thought she heard the sound of a jet flying low to the ground in the distance.  The sound was distinct, but she dismissed it as another mirage.

 

 

             
Hinni flew a crisscross pattern dangerously close to the desert floor.  He knew it was only a matter of time before the Israeli Air Force scrambled a couple of jets to find out where the jet went that briefly appeared on their radar screen, then disappeared.  He kept his eyes on the ground as he neared the end of the pattern he was told to fly over the coordinates he was given.  At one point he flew over a road that seemed to lead out into the desert.  During his briefing, he learned that the Legionnaire he was looking for had headed out into the desert in a vehicle.  Maybe she came down this road, he thought, still marveling at the thought that he was looking for a female Legionnaire.  He banked sharply and headed slightly off to the side of the road and shot forward in the direction of the main highway.  In the span of a few moments he passed by what he thought was a person, moving slowly down the road.  He banked sharply and gathered a little distance and headed back.  This time he was certain it was a person, although he caught only a glimpse.  He was sure that the person turned and looked at him as he screamed by.  He thought he saw the figure try to raise a hand to signal him.  He broke radio silence using a prearranged frequency.

             
“I think I have her, about five miles due west of highway 77 leading out of Jerusalem,” he said after glancing at a map he’d taped to the side of the instrument panel.

             
“We copy, can you land, repeat, can you land?”

             
“If I can land on a carrier, I can land on this road.  It will be a little bumpy, but it looks flat and hard packed.  I’ll land behind her,” Hinni said.

             
Hinni gave himself ample room, slowed and positioned himself for landing.  He dropped his landing gear down and put the plane down onto the road way.  He hit his rear thrusters and the plane slowed as he easily maneuvered it down the road.  He taxied until he could clearly see the figure he’d passed in the distance.  He moved forward and saw the person stop ahead of him.  He grabbed a water bottle and opened the cowling over the cockpit.  He took a slender rope ladder and slung it over the side.  He climbed down the ladder and ran the remaining distance over to Madeleine.

             
“Legionnaire?” he shouted as he approached.

             
As he approached he saw that the person was female.  She crumpled to the ground as he approached.  He kneeled in the sand beside her and brought the water bottle to her lips.  At first he splashed some onto her lips and a trickle into her mouth.  She reached up her hand and guided the bottle to her lips.  She drank in gulps until he moved the bottle.

             
“Careful, you have to go slow at first.  I’ve got more in the plane,” Hinni said pushing the matted hair away from her face.  He could see that she was trying to speak and moved his ear closer to her mouth.

             
“I thought you were another mirage,” Madeleine managed to croak.

             
“I’m not a mirage, but I flew here in one,” he said as he lifted her up in his arms and carried her back to the plane.  “I have to put you over my shoulder,” he said as he grabbed the rungs of the ladder.  She seemed light and wasted from dehydration. He easily lifted her up and into the navigation seat immediately behind his.  “I’ll give you this water if you promise to drink it slowly,” he said as he buckled her harness.  He managed to get a flight helmet on her, with the oxygen feed open and hanging from one side of the helmet.  “I am going to fly low.  If I tell you to, put this over your mouth like this,” Hinni said placing the oxygen feed over her mouth momentarily.

             
“Promise,” Madeleine managed to say.

             
Hinni slid into the pilot’s seat and strapped himself in.

             
“We’re in a borrowed plane.  I am a Legionnaire,” Hinni said as he lowered the cowling into place securing it from the inside.

             
“Someone told me you’d come,” he heard as he pulled on his helmet and fired the engines.  He taxied a short distance and pulled back on the throttle picking up speed.  He proceeded cautiously until he was airborne and then pushed the throttle forward, gaining altitude.  No more hiding, he thought as he pushed the plane back towards Jerusalem and his extraction point.

 

 

 

             
Israeli Air Force pilot Aaron Cohen turned his F-4 Phantom in the direction of the Judean Desert.  He had been on routine patrol in Israeli airspace watching for any incursion by the Syrian Air Force.  While he was on his way towards the Syrian border he was alerted by his command that someone had stolen a Mirage
III
from an Israeli testing facility.  His information was that it went off the radar screen just short of the Judean desert.

 
             
He hoped the patrol would be uneventful; his wingman was some distance away and could be called in if he encountered any enemy aircraft or the Mirage.  The only rational explanation for the loss of the Mirage was that either the Egyptians or the Syrians had stolen it.  He knew the missing plane was still being tested,
and he
also knew it was fast. 

Cohen looked at his instruments and scanned the horizon. He was about to report in when a shrill alarm went off in the cockpit. A jet had a radar lock on him and that meant it was ready to fire.

Turning his head, he tried to locate the position of the aircraft when he saw the missing Mirage blazed through the sky immediately in front of him.  The plane that had him in its sights was behind him and ready to blow him out of the sky.  Glancing at the picture of his wife and children pasted to the side of his instrument panel, he began evasive maneuvers and a prayer

             

             
Hinni was just exiting the desert keeping his Mirage low to the ground when he saw two Syrian MiG-21’s come out of the sun and engage a lone Israeli fighter.  His cockpit alarm sounded that someone had a radar lock on his plane.  In aerial combat involving jets, decisions were made instantaneously.  The Israeli in the Phantom was as good as dead, unless he intervened.  Hinni hit his afterburners and shot up off the deck.  He armed his sidewinders. Locking onto the MiGs, he fired twice.

The sidewinders ripped out from the underbelly of the Mirage, tearing towards the MiGs.  Both jets exploded

“Mirage, Mirage this is IAF Phantom A3 22, good shooting. I repeat, good shooting.  Mirage please answer,” Cohen yelled into his mike.  Hinni had been ordered not to engage the enemy and he wrestled with not answering the Phantom’s pilot. Making a snap decision, he keyed his mike and responded to the Phantom

             
“Israeli Mirage on special ops mission, glad to assist.  Expect more MiGs in your vicinity. Scramble a sortie, your coordinates immediately,” Hinni answered.

             
“Who do I thank?” the pilot asked.

             
Hinni engaged the mike one last time, “Mirage returning to base.”  Hinni held the mike open a few seconds longer and hummed a few bars of an old Legion marching song, before he disengaged the connection.  He knew that might get him in trouble, but probably less than shooting down two MiGs.  “What the hell,” he muttered, peeling off and resuming course towards his destination.

             
“You okay back there?” he said, pulling his air mask away from his mouth.

             
“Much better now, Legionnaire, that was exciting,” Madeleine said hoarsely.

             
“Do you mind not mentioning that to anyone right away?  I’d like time to think of a suitable excuse,” Hinni said.

             
“I won’t tell anyone.  It’s not their business,” Madeleine said.

             
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Hinni said.

“Call me Madeleine, please. And thank you.”

             
“I’m just the messenger.  Somebody called my CO, somebody that wouldn’t take no for an answer.  That’s all I know,” Hinni explained.

             
“I must have a guardian angel,” Madeleine answered, wondering who would have known to send the Legion.  She was still wondering when her exhaustion took over and she drifted to sleep clutching the bottle of water to her chest.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRY-NINE

 

 

 

             
Berthold Hartmann found himself sitting in an emergency cabinet meeting called by Prime Minister Meir.

             
“The Egyptians and Syrians crossed our border, timing it to coincide with the start of Yom Kippur, a holy day,” Defense Minister Moshe Dayan said venomously.  “Both Syria and Egypt sent fighters and ground troops in at the same time.  We have been pushed back on both fronts and are suffering heavy losses.”

             
“Defense Minister,” Prime Minister Meir said, “It seems that you miscalculated the resolve and effectiveness of the Egyptians and the Syrians, expecting an easy victory.  Given the current state of affairs, what do you suggest we do?”

             
“We should consider retreating to the Mitleh Mountains and abandon the Golan Heights, for now, regroup and carry the battle over the Jordan,” Dayan said.

             
“I disagree,” Hartmann uncharacteristically interrupted.  “Our core military doctrine has been to take the war into enemy territory as soon as possible.”

             
“How will you accomplish that?” Dayan challenged.

             
“Give no more ground and push back.  The Mossad is prepared to strike directly at the heart of the enemy as we speak.  We will pursue a guerilla attack on a Syrian airbase, from within Syria, and simultaneously strike within Egypt. In my experience,” Hartmann said standing and turning to Dayan, the best strategy is to carry the battle to the enemy, not to retreat.”

             
Dayan stood, a retort on his lips, when Prime Minister Meir said, “Enough. We will not run, not to the mountains or away from the Golan Heights.  Bring everything we have in reserve and push back.  Scramble the entire air force and strike back all at once.  Minister Hartmann, you have the full force of my government behind you.  Send in your agents with my blessings and unwavering belief in their abilities.”

             
“May I speak?” Dayan said.

“Yes Minister?” Meir said in a tone clearly not inviting argument.

             
“I recognize that you have made your decision and I will not venture anything else on the subject at this point.  But as Defense Minister I believe that I should be privy to any information we have concerning the Mirage that went missing and then was miraculously returned to a football pitch in downtown Jerusalem,” Dayan said, looking directly at Hartmann who looked right back at Dayan without expression.

             
“I was told the Mirage shot down two Syrian MiGs on our border,” Hartmann replied.

             
“You are saying you know nothing about it?”  Dayan said.

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