Chimera

Ten Su-30s from the Hashimara based No. 222 “Tigersharks” Squadron were deploying themselves north of the Chumbi valley on an offensive fighter sweep and were establishing their dominance in the skies. They had already nailed two J-7s on patrol over Lhasa.

Further south, the Phalcon AWACS aircraft from Kalaikunda had replaced the lost CABS AEW aircraft and was providing airborne command and control. A flight of six Mirage-2000s from No. 7 Squadron were on security for this aircraft over northern Sikkim. But the real operation was ongoing over the Chumbi valley…

As the sun was setting to the west, casting a reddish-pink glow to the darkening skies, nine Il-76s in three groups had entered northern Sikkim followed behind by three of the newly delivered C-17s.

Thomas felt the Il-76 fuselage tilt a bit and saw as the last rays of red sunlight coming into the dark fuselage from the portholes disappeared, leaving the fuselage utterly dark except for the glow of the dim orange-yellow lights inside. The warning lights to his side went red and he saw the jumpmasters nodding as they spoke something into their earphones. The chief-warrant-officer glanced at Thomas and caught his look. He nodded.

It was time.

Thomas got up from his seat and so did the hundred paratroopers inside. He heard everybody checking equipment and the jumpmasters shouting orders. He had done this many times in his career. This jump, however, had only been a dream up till this moment.

There was a large shudder and humming noises as the darkness of the cabin disappeared when the two large halves of the aft ramp door opened up. The cabin was immediately lit up with the reddish evening glow from the west. Thomas could see the sun dipping below the horizon to the west and realized that the aircraft had now crossed into Tibet and were flying east, north of the Chumbi valley. As the doors fully opened, freezing winds rushed up the cabin and many of the paratroopers shivered. Thomas patted his pocket to ensure he had his boonie-hat stacked away carefully. From where he stood, at the rear of the cabin, he could see the other nine aircraft flying some distance away.

The jumpmaster patted Thomas on the back and held up five fingers.

Five minutes.

Thomas nodded and then took a deep breath as his heart started pounding. He had done this so many times that the jump did not bother him anymore. But here the jump was only the beginning of the ordeal, not its end.

Below, he saw a large frozen lake pass below on the brown desert-like plains and realized from memory that they were now very near the drop-zone. Sure enough, the light next to him flashed green and the jumpmasters started pushing the ready paratroopers out of the ramp.

The three men before Thomas jumped and their parachutes deployed after the cord connecting them to the aircraft pulled it open. Thomas did not hesitate either. He took the dive instantly and felt the massive slap from the winds on his body. He saw the parachute deploy above his head and it instantly pulled him back by the harness with another jolt. Within seconds he was stabilized and saw the white chute above deployed cleanly and under his control. He saw the long lines of chutes deploying behind and above him from all twelve transports. To his west he saw six Mirage-2000s fully armed with weapons streaking by as they were silhouetted by the setting sunlight.

He expected to take weapons fire from below but was surprised to see none of that. Of course they had picked the location because it fell north of the two PLA Divisions in the valley and was surprisingly sparsely occupied. Still, the hundreds of open white canopies were not hard to miss nor were the massed transport aircraft overhead. He had been told that the IAF Mig-27s had suppressed all Chinese anti-air missile capabilities in the valley, but he had taken that with a grain of salt.

Maybe our luck will hold. It only has to hold a little bit longer…

The ground below approached quickly and Thomas flared his chutes just before his feet touched on the loose gravel of Tibet and he skidded and fell. The chute settled behind him, pulling him along the gravel with the wind. He reached for his harness straps and snapped them open, releasing the chute as it drifted away along with all the cords. He saw he had been dragged for about two-dozen meters in the gravel and was lucky that only a couple of his pockets had been ripped. He instantly checked his backpack and found it was all there. So was his rifle. Most importantly, he felt his maps still inside the chest pocket as he patted them.