Tales of Strikeforce Falcon, Book 1: Flashpoint

by Richard White

  *****

  The waiting as always the hardest part. Brock tried not to fidget as he watched the sentry, wondering and worrying what was going on around him. He hated sending others into harm’s way while he stayed safe, but that was the joy of command. The days of kings leading their troops in a valiant charge against the enemy were long gone. Now it was his job to plot, plan, and wait.

  The jungle helped keep him awake. Creatures unseen called back and forth, and the wind of the approaching storm pushed branches and leaves against each other, making it sound like all of creation was in motion around him. However, the only thing he was worried about was the slow, bored movements of the Japanese sentry about twenty yards away.

  There had already been a shift change of sentries, so he knew he’d been at his position for about an hour. Still, there had been no sign the men inside the wire had been spotted, so Brock fought to keep his mind on his task.

  The sudden sound of a weapon going off in the dump brought both Brock and the sentry to full alert. Before the sentry had time to react, Brock feathered a short burst from his Thompson and the sentry crumpled under the impact of the .45 caliber slugs. He heard the thump of Lyons’s Bren gun opening up on the camp and a small explosion echoed through the night.

  Checking quickly to ensure no one was sneaking up on him, Brock scrambled over to the gap in the fence where Lt. Howard and his team had entered the camp. Lyons waved once and then continued to spray the camp, avoiding the section where the team would appear. A larger explosion rocked the camp and Baker rushed over and slid down next to him, cradling his sniper rifle.

  “Took out my sentry and the other one down the row, sir. Any sign of the lieutenant?”

  “Nothing yet. Keep your eyes and ears open. There’s no way they didn’t hear this down at the village. Go down and give van Straten a hand.” He heard the B.A.R. open up and the sound of screams. “I think those off-duty guards woke up. Go, man, go.”

  “Roger that.” The big Australian rose and disappeared into the brush. Delaney heard the sound of running feet and he spotted bodies near the wire. Brock took careful aim in case it wasn’t who he hoped was coming through the gap. The three bodies dove into the darkness near the designated tree and crawled over to where he was waiting.

  “What the hell happened?” he asked the trio.

  Lt. Howard took several deep breaths before responding. “Tell you in a bit, ol’ chap, but I think we probably ought to concentrate on getting out of here. I suspect there will be a very big hole here in a few minutes.”

  “That might be a very good idea. Havildar, go get Lyons. We’ll meet up over at van Straten’s position and then head back to our camp.”

  “Very good, sir. Back in a moment.”

  Brock spotted a moving shadow in the camp and feathered off another burst from his Thompson. There was the sound of rifle fire from inside the camp and then Petty and Lt. Howard joined him in returning fire. Splinters jumped from the crates inside the camp and then one of the crates exploded, sending flames and shrapnel in all directions. From the sound of screaming, Brock knew the guards wouldn’t try that again. The trio filtered back deeper into the jungle and then hurried toward their B.A.R. gunner’s position.

  The crack of a rifle ahead of them caught their attention and they hit the dirt. When there wasn’t another shot, they crawled forward on their hands and knees until they reached the ridge where van Straten had set up. He’d found a small depression that he’d converted into a makeshift foxhole. Baker was eyeballing the main gate, and Brock could vaguely make out a dark form lying in the half-open gate.

  “Caught a couple of nosy people trying to sneak out the main gate. I think some of the guards went out the back of that shack. I’m trying to spot them. However, Rolf thinks he’s spotted lights heading our direction. I think we’re going to have company soon.”

  “Terry, got any toys left?”

  The lieutenant shook his head. “No, sorry. If I could have drawn more plastic explosive, I could probably have made a nice booby trap for them, but I’m fresh out. And speaking of which, we should take cover. What I did bring should be going off rather soon. I had to set a short timer when we were discovered.”

  Brock glanced around the darkness, watching for his missing two troops. “Speaking of which, what happened back there?”

  “My fault, sir,” Sergeant Petty said. “We found a radio shack where I thought it might be. It looked unoccupied, so we went in and tossed the desk and the tables. We were stuffing our pockets with stuff when we discovered it wasn’t unoccupied after all. Seems they hadn’t installed any lights yet, so the poor guy had taken a candle with him to the latrine. He just walked in on us, candle in one hand, roll of paper in the other. I don’t know who was more surprised, but he let out one heck of a yell before Gurung’s khukuri got him. Next thing we knew we heard running feet. We went out the window just as they were coming in the front door. They spotted the body and someone stuck a gun out the window and took a shot at us. I guess they realized they were in an ammo dump because they only fired the one time before Lyons opened up and they went running.”

  “Tell me you got something useful out of all that.”

  “Well, it was tough to see just using a match for light, but it looks like we may have snagged a couple of code books. I know Gurung grabbed a few maps with markings on them. I suspect I’m going to be busy translating stuff when we get back until we can ship this stuff back to G2.”

  The distinct sound of trucks caught their attention as Lyons and Gurung joined them. Brock split his team in two and had Lyons take two others further down the ridge to get the approaching convoy in a crossfire. The two trucks roared out of the jungle heading toward the camp. Delaney waited until they were full broadside to his position before opening up with his Thompson.

  The B.A.R. and the Bren tore into the trucks, accompanied by the supporting fire from the rest of the team. The first truck veered off the trail and slammed into a tree while the trailing vehicle lurched to a halt, smoke billowing from its engine. The team shifted fire to the beds of the trucks, shredding the canvas as bodies jumped out and attempted to blend into the grass beneath the wheels.

  Delaney ducked at the return fire as the surviving Japanese troops were trying to establish a defensive perimeter around their trucks. Baker swung his rifle toward the main gates of the ammunition dump and fired off a couple of shots. The ground near him erupted and he realized someone in the dump had brought up a heavy machine gun and was using it for good effect. Brock motioned for Lyons to direct the Bren at the dump while van Straten kept up a steady barrage with his B.A.R. on the pinned down Japanese soldiers.

  Terry crawled over to him and pointed at his watch. “I say, we probably should make ourselves scarce. Those explosives are going to go off any minute now.”

  Brock snapped off another burst from his Thompson, and then signaled the team to withdraw. One by one, the team ceased firing and withdrew into the jungle. Brock ensured everyone had reached cover before he tossed his remaining hand grenade toward the truck and then crawled back, keeping the crest of the ridge between him and the Japanese infantrymen. As he heard the explosion, he rushed into the dense foliage and caught up with the rest of his men. The team quickly fell in on the Gurkha and they fled single file into the jungle away from the ambush site.

  They hadn’t gone more than one hundred meters when there was a sudden roar behind them followed by a much larger explosion. The tops of the trees swayed as the pressure wave rushed out from the crater that had been the ammunition dump. Secondary explosions sent out shock waves as ammunition cooked off and shot tracers into the sky in all directions.

  As if nature had been waiting for the explosion, the storm Gurung had predicted broke with a fury. Waves of rain crashed down on the jungle, soaking the retreating party through to the skin in seconds. Delaney decided to take advantage of the rain hiding their tracks and ordered the scout to push on as fast as he dared.

  I
t seemed the fates decided to favor the small commando unit that evening, as the storm and the darkness hid them from the enemy. The few patrols they encountered in the torrential downpour seemed much more interested in getting back to their own camps than searching the soggy undergrowth and the commandoes were able to pass the Japanese lines unnoticed. By dawn the next morning, Brock began to recognize certain terrain features and a few hours later, they made contact with the Sparrow Force sentries before stumbling into camp. Brock sent his men to grab some hot chow and start cleaning their gear while Terry and he reported to the colonel.

  Lieutenant Colonel Holmes had just finished dictating something to his aide when the two officers reached his tent. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

  “Good morning, Sir. Captain Delaney and Lt. Howard reporting with the results of our last mission.”

  “Oh, dash it all, Delaney, don’t be so damn formal. We don’t have time for that out here. I noticed an unusual amount of thunder from the north last evening. I am assuming things went well on your mission?”

  “The ammunition dump was destroyed, sir. Additionally, we discovered the presence of a Japanese intelligence unit storing direction finding equipment there. This equipment met a similar fate to the ammo dump. Sergeant Petty recovered a number of documents on our raid and he will begin trying to translate them as soon as he and the other men get a chance to get some food and clean up.”

  “Good job, but there’s no time for that. Gather your men and have them round up all of their gear immediately.”

  Delaney felt his stomach drop at that news. “We’re bugging out, Sir?”

  “Well, to be honest, we’d already started pulling out a few hours after you left. Our unfriendly neighbors will begin scouring the jungle for whoever blew up their ammunition as soon as they move some supplies from Dili. One of our operatives there sent word four new merchant ships just arrived. It looks like they’re stuffed to the gills with food and ammunition. Still, that’s not what’s going on.”

  The colonel paused and picked up a stack of papers. “I just received orders. Your team is being evac’d to Australia this evening. You need to move your unit to Checkpoint Oscar Tango. There’s a small unfinished runway there. A transport will be there to pick you up once it gets dark.”

  “Going to Australia? I don’t understand, Sir. I thought we were doing a good job here?”

  The colonel’s expression showed a pride his position wouldn’t let him express openly. “You and your men have been doing a capital job here, Captain. That’s exactly why you’re being transferred back to Australia. Face it; we’re not going to hold Timor. The best we can do is tie up the Japanese military for as long as we can, but they’re pinching off our supplies and pushing us further and further to the east.”

  The colonel looked at a map and pointed at it. “The truth is, Captain, we’re losing island after island all over this bloody ocean. The Japanese have pretty much had their way with us and we’re just hoping we can give them a bloody nose before they try to invade Australia. That’s where you chaps are going to come in. I can’t say too much about your new assignment, but I see who issued the orders. I suspect you’re in for a most interesting assignment.”

  “Any hints, Sir?” Lieutenant Howard asked, eyeing the colonel with suspicion.

  “’Fraid not, Lieutenant. Not my place to say. Let’s just say, if I was about twenty years younger, I’d be volunteering to come along. But now, don’t dilly-dally. Get your men and get moving. We’ve got our truck running and it’s leaving camp in one hour. Catch it and you can clean up and sleep at the airstrip. Otherwise, you’ll be hiking all the way there. If I were in your shoes, I know which I’d choose.”

  “Roger, Sir. Thank you very much and it’s been a pleasure serving under you,” Brock said. He saluted the older man and then stepped forward to shake his hand. Terry followed suit and the colonel shooed them out of his tent toward their sleeping area.