"How's the ammo?" Murdock asked. Three of the men had used up their AK-47 ammo and discarded the heavy rifles.
"That damned AK really chews up the rounds in a rush," Ron Holt said.
Most of the others had two or three magazines left. "Ammo is going to be critical on this one," Murdock said. Use it, but with some caution. When we're out, we're out."
"Anybody hit?" Doc asked. Nobody replied. "We're going to go double time now. Magic, how many rounds left for the big one?"
"Last magazine, and it's getting heavy as hell. Find me a target, L-T."
They went ahead on the trail of a road. Red stayed a quarter of a mile out front now, keeping in touch with the Motorola.
Murdock kept them at the slow trot for a half mile, then went to a walk but with a long ground-eating stride.
They met Red Nicholson at the next corner. He pointed upward. The road took a long turn and headed up a sharp slope.
"See those figures on the road?" Red asked. Magic pulled out his McMillan fifty and looked through the scope.
"Oh, damn, yes," he yelped. "I count eight of them." He lifted the big weapon and looked for something to lean it across. Horse Ronson went on his hands and knees, and Magic dropped to the ground beside him and slanted the heavy barrel across Ronson's back.
"Oh, my, yes, this is good," Magic said. He had a ten-round magazine in the big weapon. He sighted through the scope and fired. At once he jerked the bolt to the rear and slammed a new round into the chamber.
He watched through the sight, and screeched when he saw the round hit between two of the men. He sighted and fired again. Then he fired four more times as fast as he could pull the bolt. He saw the men on the road scatter and vanish from his sight. He aimed once more and pulled the trigger, but he knew he was out of rounds.
"Give the bastards something to think about," Magic said.
"You gonna dump the fifty now that you're out of rounds?" Fernandez asked him.
"Shit, no. They might not buy me another one."
They marched again. Nicholson had vanished around a bend ahead of them.
A half hour later, they climbed the long slope and came to the spot where the troops had been when Magic had fired on them. They found one man in the far ditch with half of his chest blown out. The .50-caliber round had almost cut him into two pieces.
Murdock checked his watch. Just after 1400. Should be five more hours of daylight. They had to get this wrapped up before dark, or they could lose the big man in the night and the wilderness.
They marched again. Red held his lead of three hundred yards. The road leveled out some, then rose again. They could see the footprints of the others ahead of them. Red figured there were no more than seven of them now.
It could be getting close to desperation time for the general plodding ahead. The big man must be out of shape. This hike would kill him. What would Murdock do in the general's place? What? He'd make a stand. Find a favorable setup, and try to cut down the odds against him or wipe out the chasers. Murdock considered it, and watched the country on both sides of the road.
The woods closed in again, and Murdock watched closer. Red pulled back so he was one hundred yards ahead of the main body, where the men were still stretched out ten yards apart. That separation was basic combat technique. At ten yards a chance mortar round, grenade or machine gun couldn't get more than one or maybe two men with a lucky hit or a sudden attack.
Murdock was tired of hiking. They had been going uphill now for what he figured was seven or eight miles, maybe more. Some kind of a bird called in the woods. Murdock frowned. He hadn't heard any birds before. He studied the growth on both sides, then took a breath and relaxed.
That was when small-arms fire broke out on both sides of the road. The SEALs were in a cross fire. They hit the dirt, and returned fire on full automatic. The attackers were twenty yards ahead on each side so they didn't shoot each other. Murdock felt a round tug at his shirt sleeve. Then he was down returning fire on full auto with the AK-47.
All of the SEALS, scattered as they were, had perfect fields of fire. The first incoming rounds did the damage. Then the eleven weapons all on full automatic cut a swath through the brush, and the SEALs heard two men scream.
Red came running down the road, but it was over before he got there. Ronson brought his machine gun into play, and riddled the left side of the roadway where he figured the rounds came from.
Ching used his M-4A1, and emptied a new thirty-round clip of 9mm parabellum rounds into the right-hand side. All of the SEALs fired their magazines dry, and slammed in new ones.
"Hold fire," Murdock said into his Motorola. The sound of the weapons trailed off. Murdock stared at the ambush. The general and his men had used their heads this time, waiting for the cross fire.
"Ed, check the left side. I'll take the right. Everybody else cover us. If anybody in there fires a shot, blast them." Murdock lifted up and charged into the brush. He worked ahead carefully, making as little noise as he could. Twenty yards forward he came on the death scene. Two green-uniformed Kenyan troopers lay sprawled in the grass and weeds. Both had been riddled by more than a dozen rounds. They'd had no protection to the front. He kicked the weapons away. Both AK-47's had run dry of ammo.
"Clear right," Murdock said.
"Clear left," Ed DeWitt answered.
Murdock ran back to the road. He saw what he feared he might. Doc Ellsworth was busy. Murdock came up beside him where he worked on Horse Ronson. The big man grinned through what Murdock knew was searing pain.
"He took two rounds in his right leg," Doc said. "Doubt if the bone is broken. He'd be screaming by now if it was. Guess that one round slanted off the bone and came out sideways. No more hiking for Horse."
"Anybody else?"
"Yeah, me. Got a scratch on my left arm," Doc said, and sat down suddenly. His face went white, and he struggled to stay sitting up. He shook his head.
"L-T, could you get me one of them morphine shots. Think I'm going to need one. Oh, one for Horse here too."
It was ten minutes before they got Ronson to the side of the road in a trampled-down patch of grass where he could stay until they came for him. Murdock gave him a WP grenade.
"Hey, Horse, if you hear a chopper coming, POP that Willy Peter out there in the road and we'll be sure to stop by."
"Can do. Go knock down that General Fuck up there. Wanted him myself. Have to give him to you."
Ronson wouldn't let them leave anyone with him. They were down to eleven men. Doc came around and joked about almost passing out. Murdock wrapped up his left arm. Doc could flex his hand. He said he could shoot, and that was what mattered.
Murdock looked up the road. They were coming to the top of this particular hill. It looked as if the road went directly to the summit. Maybe that was the end of the road. It had to lead somewhere. The general might be down to three or four men. Which should make it easy, if they could catch the guy. He shouldn't have much of a lead by this time.
Murdock saw Red Nicholson jogging down the sloping road toward him. He was out of breath.
"Might have something up front," Red said. "Road goes right to some kind of a rock building, an old house or a fort. I know the general and his men are inside. I heard him yelling at them. It's not more than a quarter of a mile ahead."
28
Friday, July 23
1532 hours Mountain country Near Nairobi, Kenya
Murdock and Red Nicholson slid into brush at the edge of the road. Murdock had moved the platoon up in the brush to the closest place to the structure, which was fifty yards away across a grassy area. He looked at the sturdy rock building.
It wasn't a house or a storeroom. It had more the look of a fort. On the front he saw what could only be firing slots.
"Could have been a strong point early on when the British were here," Red said.
Murdock nodded. "Makes it just that much harder to capture." The platoon commander studied the structure again. Two stories, maybe
thirty feet showing on the front side, slate or tile roof so it couldn't be burned out. Six firing slots out this side. One regular-sized door that looked to be covered with an iron facing had been built into the center of the front. Outside the door was a pile of furniture. Murdock got his glasses on it, and froze.
"They've got a barricade outside the front door. Could be some rifles in there."
Just as he spoke they heard two weapons fire, and rounds nipped through the brush around them.
Murdock got his MP-5 up. He'd taken the silencer off so it was good for a range of 150 yards. "Dig them out," Murdock said, and fired a six-round burst. The others began slamming lead at them as well, with the heavy snarl of the AK-47s and the sharper sound of the .223 rounds from the carbines.
Automatic bursts came from the barricade. Murdock squirmed farther behind the cedar tree. He heard somebody bleat in pain, then fired again at the pile of furniture.
There were three more bursts of rounds from the front of the house. Then they stopped. Murdock saw the door open a foot, then close a few moments later.
"Hold fire," Murdock said in his mike. "The gents have moved into their fortress. Who got hit?"
Ching spoke up. "Hey, just a scratch, not even a Band-Aid needed. Not to worry. What's next?"
"Take a look, Doc. That's why we pay you the big bucks."
Ellsworth worked over to Ching, and found a graze that had plowed up a half inch of flesh across Ching's arm just below the shoulder. He put on some disinfectant salve, and then wrapped it with a roller.
"Ching is fit for duty, L-T. Just a graze," Doc reported.
"Good. Ching, glad you're still with us. Hey, no wonder the general wanted to get here," Murdock said. "This place looks like a fortress. Red, circle around the whole thing. See if there's any closer approach through the brush and trees. Check for any windows in back and look for more doors. See if they all have metal shielding. We've got three hours to darkness with any luck. Go."
Red Nicholson bent over and ran through the brush. This was the job he had asked for in the platoon, and one he loved. A little thing like a slug through his left arm wasn't going even to slow him down. He moved thirty yards in the heavy brush, then worked forward to where the growth thinned and then stopped around the top of this small hill. Evidently it had been cut down and dug out at one time. Now the new growth was starting to recapture the lost ground.
The side of the structure looked much like the front. Two stories, six firing slots, no doors or windows.
He crawled into the brush and circled around to the back.
The cover was sparser here, and he moved with caution. If they were any kind of soldiers at all, they would have lookouts at those firing slots.
Again he came up on the clearing. The rear was a little different. There were two doors, and two windows with close-set bars on them. He estimated the iron bars were only three inches apart. He saw one of the doors open. A man appeared briefly, threw out some water from a bucket, went inside quickly, and closed the door.
Red wondered if he should have shot the guy. No. He had no go on it from the L-T. He squirmed into heavy cover, and checked the last side. It resembled the other three.
The best place to attack would be the rear. It had the two doors, and grenades could be wedged between the window bars. The doors had the same metal facing, but a charge or two would send them flying off their hinges.
When Red returned to make his report, he found the ten men spread out in the brush facing the rock house. He gave his report to Murdock.
The platoon leader had his plan at once. He looked at Ed DeWitt. "Keep two men with an MG and AK-47. You'll be the diversion. I'll give you a signal on the Motorola. Gonna try those two doors in back. Keep up a good-paced fire, but don't run out of ammo. How much you have left?"
Willy Bishop reported he had a little over a hundred rounds. DeWitt gathered the AK-47 ammo from his squad, and had four full thirty-round magazines and two partials.
Murdock nodded. "Should be enough. We're hoping to blind them and get inside quickly. I'll call you off if we get a door open." He looked at the men spread out, then used the mike. "How many flash-bang grenades we have left?"
The reports showed they had only one. "Bring it up," Murdock said.
"How many WP forty-millimeter or hand grenades we have?"
This time he found out the M-4A1 men had twelve of the smoke grenades. He still had one WP hand bomb.
"Okay. Ed's two men stay with him. Find yourself some good cover with a good field of fire at those shooting slots. The rest of you on me."
They went deeper into the brushy cover, and circled the rock house, coming up at the back under Nicholson's direction. Murdock looked over the chances. The last good cover was thirty yards from the rock house, the closest brush was on any side.
"Red, any wind?" Murdock asked.
"Very light, L-T. Some, blowing left to right."
Murdock put Nicholson and Ching on one side, and Al Adams and Lampedusa on the other with their rocket-launching M-4A1 carbines.
"Ching, when I give the word, I want one WP round at the left side of the back of that rock house. We'll see how high the smoke blows and what effect it has. Then we'll do six rounds and if it works, we'll charge the place. Who brought the TNAZ that Lincoln usually carries?"
"I got the package, L-T," Ching said.
"When the smoke works, you and I charge up to that left-hand door and you put on two charges and blow the fucker. I'll be pushing some grenades into those windows."
Murdock had been on the mike. "Everyone have the game plan?"
"If the smoke doesn't cover?" Red asked.
"Then they have us outgunned and we wait for darkness. Pretty sure they don't have NVGs, so it'll be a walk in the park."
"Yeah, let's get this over with," Ching said.
Murdock adjusted his throat mike. "Ed, do it," Murdock said. They heard the firing from the front, the chatter of the MG and the deeper crack of the Kalashnikov. Murdock waited twenty seconds, then pointed at Ching. He fired one WP round, letting it bounce before it hit the rock wall. It burst into a Fourth of July display with its hotly burning phosphorus. Then the trails began giving off smoke and it drifted slowly to the right rising, for a moment blanking out the whole wall.
Just as it did, rifles fired from two of the slots overhead.
The rounds came close to Murdock, who rolled to the side behind a six-inch-thick hardwood tree.
Ching had moved as well, and the rest of the men in deeper brush took cover.
"What the hell now, L-T?" Ching asked.
"We wait for the smoke to clear, then we use our long guns and blast those firing slots. Looks like they were made to fend off arrows and spears, not high-powered weapons. Everyone hear? Get a firing position along this front."
The troops moved up and spread out with fields of fire. The smoke drifted away lazily. When it was gone, Murdock reacted. "Open fire."
The rifles and carbines slammed thirty rounds into the slots. Murdock could see some rounds hitting the sides of the angled stone and ricocheting inside.
"Smoke now," Murdock said. "Fire for effect." The four SEALs fired six more rounds of WP at the same spot as the first one. Murdock watched the rounds burst and the smoke rise. Ching looked at Murdock. Murdock got up on one knee in a sprinter's stance. Ching did the same.
"Now," Murdock said, and the two men ran the thirty yards flat out for the rear of the building. Murdock knew there would be some firing from the rear window slots. They sprinted and zigzagged. A bullet splattered in front of Murdock, but only some dirt and gravel hit him. They covered the yards quickly, and panted as they crouched against the wall.
"Hold fire, rear," Murdock said into the mike. He could hear DeWitt's team firing at the front, and knew there were also return rounds from inside the rock house. Murdock heard rounds fired from the wall above him, but the smoke had blinded the shooters, and he figured his men were safe.
Ching already ha
d out the high explosive that succeeded C-5. It was TNAZ, twenty percent more powerful and lighter in weight than its cousin. Ching plastered a pliable one-eighth pound of the explosive on each door hinge, and attached timer-detonators. He had preset them for ten seconds. He motioned to the L-T that they would go around the corner to get away from the blast.
Murdock looked at the windows, held up his hand in a wait signal, then ran to the nearest window, broke the pane with the butt of his MP-5, and pushed two fragger grenades between the bars and through the window. He ran for the near rock wall corner, then nodded at Ching.
The SEAL pushed in the timer-activation switches, then hurried around the corner.
They heard the karumph of the two hand grenades inside the building after their 4.2 second fuse train burned down. Ten seconds is a year when you're waiting for a charge to go off, and Ching had started to go back to check it when Murdock caught his arm. Just then the twin explosions blasted half a second apart.
Murdock and Ching were around the wall in seconds. The rest of the squad raced across the thirty yards to join them at the rear wall. The two hinges had disintegrated, and the door had pivoted on the heavy lock and then broken off. A yawning black hole showed inside.
Ching hosed it down with ten rounds from his carbine. Murdock leaned toward the hole and threw in the flash grenade. The SEALs covered their ears and eyes. Murdock pulled up his night-vision goggles, and as soon as the six pulsing explosions and the six white-hot strobe lights faded, he rushed into the void.
In dull green light, he saw he was in a kitchen area. The grenades had trashed some kitchenware and furniture, but no bodies were present.
He charged to the connecting door, kicked it open, then knelt beside the protection of the wall. A burst of automatic-rifle fire buzzed through the opening. He rolled in a fragger grenade and waited the 4.2 seconds for the explosion.
When the shrapnel from the bomb stopped snarling through the open door, Murdock surged into the room. He took the right-hand side, and Ron Holt with his NVGs took the left. Through the faint green patina, Murdock saw two men trying to rise on the right-hand side. He drilled both with three-round bursts and they flopped to the floor. The sound of the firing in the rock room was like an echo chamber. Murdock wasn't sure he could hear much.
Seal Team Seven 6 - Battleground Page 23