“Sandman, Cajun, I’m eyeball the shooter, ready for next nine line, danger close,” the A-10 pilot said. His voice had gone from calm to excited. He had just watched the entire RPG attack unfold in his targeting pod video.

Carpenter composed himself as he picked himself up and resumed his cover position behind the HUMVEE. “Cajun, standby. Break break, Pedro 71, this is Sandman 41, we currently have a hot LZ, say playtime.”

“Sandman, Pedro, we have thirty minutes of playtime,” the helicopter pilot responded.

“Sandman copies, hold ten miles east, hot LZ, standby,” Carpenter responded. “Break, Cajun 34, confirm you still have eyes on the shooter?”

“Cajun 34 affirm, they’re now at eighty meters and approaching, danger close,” the A-10 pilot responded. Carpenter strained to hear his radios over the gunfire around him.

“Copy that, request strafe east to west or west to east, do not overfly friendlies, ground commander initials are Sierra Hotel,” Carpenter replied.

The A-10 flight lead read back the initials and restrictions and then set up for his attack. With the mountains on either side, he came in at a low angle and altitude as he readied his 30MM cannon. “Fighters inbound!” Carpenter yelled.

Carpenter watched as the A-10 rolled in parallel to the road and the pilot called, “Cajun 34 in, heading 280.”

“Cleared hot!” Carpenter yelled. Seconds later, the rounds hit the treeline as the signature sound of the GAU-8 Avenger gun on the nose of the A-10 growled in his ears. He watched as tree limbs and dirt were kicked up by the massive 30MM bullets.

“Move your bullets twenty meters north, request immediate reattack,” Carpenter directed. He wanted to ensure they took out any hiding adversaries as well.

“Cajun 34,” the pilot responded as he made a sharp, climbing right hand turn to set up for another attack.

Less than a minute later, the A-10 rolled back in for another attack, “Cajun 34 in, heading 270.”

“Cleared hot!” Carpenter responded.

The bullets crackled and kicked up dust again as the A-10 pulled off target, its gun growling as it cycled in the nose.

“Good hits!” Carpenter called.

“Cajun 34 is going to go to the tanker, Cajun 35 is back on station,” the lead A-10 pilot said.

“Copy all; confirm Cajun 35 is tally lead’s hits?” Carpenter asked.

“Cajun 35, tally target, visual friendlies,” the female wingman responded.

Carpenter waited for a moment for return fire. At first, there was nothing but silence. The two gun runs seemed to have worked. Carpenter waited anxiously, hoping it was over.

Just as Carpenter was about to request Cajun 35 return to overwatch, another volley of small arms fire peppered the road and sides of the MRAPs.

“Cajun 35, from lead’s hits, walk your bullets fifty meters east, request immediate reattack,” Carpenter directed.

The wingman acknowledged and set up for her attack. This time, the A-10 opted to approach from the west for a better angle.

“Cajun 35, in, heading 100,” she said as Carpenter watched her wings level.