Chapter Fifteen
Friday, February 26, 1988
Hani
“Son of a b***h, not again,” Johnson said as the Stinger missile crashed into the bushes not far in front of them.
The operator threw the tube and its attached gripstock and sight to the ground in frustration and sank to his knees, his head bowed.
There was no time to think about why both Stingers had misfired. Assuming there was a reasonable chance that the flash when the Stinger’s launch motor ignited had been spotted by the Russian chopper crew, they needed to get away from their current spot as quickly as possible.
But even as Johnson spoke, the Hind’s engines rose in pitch and it began to move in their direction. Worse still, Johnson could see the second Hind, which had remained over the village, was now following the first and also
