The four Mi-35 attack helicopters swept low over the hillocks. Heavily armored and packing awesome firepower, the Hinds had for over twenty years formed the backbone of Russia's helicopter striking might. At this high altitude, their performance was far from optimal. Indeed, more than a decade ago, India had not even been able to use them in the rarefied battlefields of Kargil. The peaks here were not so high- and the IAF had elected to use the Hinds. These Hinds had since then been comprehensively updated with Israeli help- resulting in a hybrid that combined Russian ruggedness and simplicity with advanced Western avionics and counter-measures.

Their targets were a group of two camps about twenty kilometers inside Pakistan Occupied Kashmir. Satellite photographs had identified these as two of the likely staging grounds for any expected Mujahideen offensive, and MiG-25 recon flights showing a concentration of trucks and rocket launchers over the past two days had confirmed this suspicion.

Across the border, Indian helicopters and attack planes were flying towards over twenty such targets, hugging the ground to avoid radar detection. Indian fighters flew in lazy circles near the border, ready to jump into the fray if any PAF fighters attacked the choppers before they got to their targets.

The four Hinds split into two ship elements, each targeting one camp. The two camps were barely five kilometers from each other.

`Target now four klicks away'

In the dark, there was very little visible to the naked eye, but the lead pilot could just make out the tell- tale heat concentrations on his thermal imaging system, which indicated a large concentration of men and vehicles. The green light of his instrument panels cast an eerie glow around the cockpit.

`Fire on three. Go for the defensive guns first.' As they closed in, they now had a much better view of the camps, and could just make out the silhouettes of the truck mounted anti-aircraft guns guarding the camps. Refugee camps, my ass. The lead pilot was now almost within range.

`Three'

`Two'

`Fire'

The night sky was illuminated briefly by streaks of fire as four AT-6 Spiral anti-tank missiles left each Hind, flying at near supersonic speed towards the camps. The first salvo caught the Mujahideen completely by surprise and knocked out most of the rudimentary anti-aircraft defenses. After this, it was like a Turkey shoot.

The Hinds overflew the camps once to identify what looked like the juiciest targets, and then wheeled around for their second pass. The second salvo of missiles took out four rocket launchers near the camps. The bewildered Mujahideen began firing wildly in the sky with their assault rifles, most of the 7.62mm bullets bouncing harmlessly off the thickly armored Hinds.

`Now for the dirty part. Red One cover me, I'm going in for my run.'

Many of the older Mujahideen soldiers had literally frozen with fright. This attack bought back memories of Hind attacks by the Soviets in Afghanistan. As many of the Mujahideen had said at that time, `We are not afraid of the Russians, but we are afraid of their helicopters.'

The Mujahideen squad leader picked up his LMG and rushed out, firing at the fast approaching Indian helicopters. It was a brave but futile gesture. The lead Hind emptied its rocket pods- firing 256 rockets in a deadly salvo that could saturate two football fields. By the time the second Hind came in for its run, there was not much left to kill. With over a thousand high explosive rockets hitting the two camps, there was not much place to hide for those on the ground. It was not pretty or fancy, but it did what the Hind was designed to do- deal out sledgehammer blows of death.

`Let's go home. The PAF will be up now.'

The four Hinds regrouped for their dangerous flight back to Indian airspace. They left behind smoldering ruins that marked where the camps had once been. As they left the target area, they could still hear the occasional secondary explosion from hits to ammunition dumps and fuel tanks.

Two Mirage 5s of the PAF had taken off from a nearby base. Lacking sophisticated night fighting equipment and only rudimentary radar, the Mirages were not exactly top-of the line fighters, but they were the only ones around and would have to do.

`Shit, we've got company.' The radar warning receivers on the Hinds had just lit off.

The lead pilot looked up at the night sky, trying to catch a glimpse of their attackers when a streak of light off to the port side caught his attention.

`Missile away, missile away. Evasive maneuvers!'

The bulky Hinds jinked and dove for the ground as an AIM-9 Sidewinder streaked towards them.

`We're dead now!'

The Indian helicopter pilots breathed a collective sigh of relief as the missile missed and hit the ground. Even the sensitive seeker of the American designed missile had been fooled by the combination of defensive flares the Indian Hinds had discharged and interference from ground clutter.

The Indian pilots looked up, searching for their attackers and saw two dagger shaped planes diving after them, belching fire from their cannon. They braced themselves, cursing the heavy armor and bulky build of the Hinds, which while offering superlative protection against small arms fire, meant that the Hind was one of the least maneuverable aircraft flying.

A split second later, the Mirages were snuffed out of the sky, exploding in fireballs as if they had been swatted away by a giant unseen hand.

`Red squad, this is Eagle flight, you're clear. Come on home. Good job on the bases.'

The pilot spoke over the radio to the other Hind pilots, `I don't know about you, but I'm never going to make any jokes about those fighter jocks again.'

Eagle was the call sign for a pair of MiG-29 Fulcrums covering the escape of the Hinds.