110

Two aircraft were approaching from the south. The second was flying about four hundred metres behind the first. It was hard to judge the altitude, but I knew it couldn’t be any higher than ten thousand feet. That was the limit of the 16’s effective range.

The gap between them suddenly increased. The lead aircraft had cut away the drone. It banked left, orbiting back towards the air base. Almost simultaneously, the drone’s jet engine sparked up, creating a heat signature as it surged towards us. It passed over us, heading north, its engine giving out a deep, throaty roar. Sunlight glinted off its wings.

All of a sudden, flares burst out either side of the fuselage – brilliant, blindingly white balls of magnesium that decorated the sky like a Roman candle.

The white smoke trail from the SA-16’s power pack streaked across the tree canopy about two K to my half-right. Then it screamed up into the air and towards the balls of light.

The missile jinked left and right.

It locked onto a flare, rejected it, moved onto the next, rejected that too, moved on up, defeating the dark flares like they weren’t even there.

The explosion, when it came, wasn’t massive. Ground-to-air missiles rely on kinetic energy as much as their warhead to down an aircraft. The rear of the drone disintegrated. Splinters of it showered from the sky as the main body started to spin towards earth.

I started running. ‘Back to the bike. We carry on down the track.’

Zar must have been flapping about the explosion, but he didn’t budge.

I kick-started and we were off. The back wheel lost a bit of traction, and slid out. I corrected, and the whole bike shuddered as the sidecar wheel hit a rut. I stood up on the foot pegs to get a better view. I had to keep the power on to keep that back wheel spinning, and I had to keep looking the way I wanted to go – not pointing, but looking. Start worrying about where you’re putting your wheels and the bike stops doing the thinking for you.

The track opened up from the forestry a couple of hundred metres ahead. I could see clear sky.

Legs and arms still straight, I eased back on the throttle. We were close to the end of the firs. I trickled forward another ten metres and nosed it as far into the trees on the right as it would go, then closed down.

Zar didn’t take much coaxing to climb out.

‘Anna, bring the cameras.’

She gripped the kit while I dragged Zar to the nearest tree and retied him. He looked happy just to be breathing.

I waved to Anna. ‘Give me your scarf.’

I stuffed one end of it into his mouth to fill the cavity and make sure he couldn’t develop any sort of sound. I tied the free end round his eyes. Then I grabbed one of the cameras from Anna and we moved forward. When we reached the end of the firs, I stopped and listened. I could hear the buzz of another aircraft. I started running. I wasn’t going to wait for her and I didn’t have to – she had done her bit. Now it was time to do mine.

I hit the next tree-line after twenty metres and slowed. I was sweating big-time under the heavy bike gear but I didn’t give a shit. We were nearly there.