Seal Team Seven 7 - Deathrace

by Keith Douglass

  "Yeah, hope so."

  They heard the chopper make one more circle search. Douglas checked out from the cover, and saw the bird much higher now. A minute later it flew off to the north working lower, and out of sight.

  When he took the shirt off his face, Douglas saw the SATCOM light pulsing.

  "Incoming message," he said.

  He turned another switch, and a voice came on the small speaker.

  "Douglas. Received. Now plotting out your position. Stay out of sight. Will get Murdock in gear immediately. Shooting for a drop there within thirty-eight hours. Second dark from now. Hole up. Stay out of sight. Good work. Stroh."

  The message repeated three times. When it stopped, Douglas sent a two-word reply "Douglas, Roger."

  "So, we hole up. Exactly where?" Franklin scowled.

  "Just off the side somewhere, and on the shade side," Douglas said.

  They found their spot an hour later. It was a gully that evidently drained water from the flat top of the saddle whenever there was a downpour. The rocky ground wouldn't soak up much of a cloudburst.

  The water had dug out a respectable gully, leaving some sharp edges. At one place a small waterfall must have formed and resulted in a fairly flat place below it. It was on the shady side. They unloaded their packs and found room enough for both of them to stretch out.

  First came food. They couldn't risk a fire. While there might not be much smoke, the smell would slide downwind like a beacon for anyone on foot in the area. Instead they ate some of the freeze-dried foods, much like the familiar MREs. They had plenty of water.

  "That would make their drop in here not tonight, but tomorrow night," Douglas said. "Means we have two days and a night to get through. I wonder how much of that I can sleep."

  Franklin snorted. "Hell, Douglas, knowing you, I'd say you can sack out for about ninety percent of the time. Go ahead. I'll take the first watch. Not much to see. We can spot anyone coming up the gully for half a mile. If they drop troops on the saddle up on top we'll hear them. So, we've got nothing to worry about. Sack out. I'm going to try one more of these freeze-dried pastrami cakes."

  21

  Monday, October 31

  0332 hours Lieutenant (j.g.) DeWitt's apartment Coronado, California

  Lieutenant DeWitt awoke slowly. Something was clanging, like a police car in England. No, more like an ambulance in France.

  Oh, damn, the phone. He sat up, fully awake now. He grabbed the instrument and glared at it.

  "Yeah, what the hell do you want?"

  "Well, good morning to you, too, Lieutenant DeWitt. I know it's about three-thirty in the morning out there in Lotus Land, but some of us have been working all night back here in D.C."

  "Stroh? Don Stroh?"

  "Damn, you still remember me. I can't get hold of your boss. He unplug his phone or something?"

  "Why would he do that?" DeWitt asked.

  "I don't know, why?"

  "Oh, yeah. The good Lieutenant was, shall we say, busy tonight with his friend from D.C."

  "So if he unplugged the phone, I'd still get a ring on that end?"

  "Yes, the phone rings, but the ring you hear comes from the switching station here in town."

  "Thanks for the intel. Hey, we're in business. Just got word about six hours ago that we have the exact location of the picnic grounds we were looking for. We did some tail twisting, and got the final okay to move out. You have travel orders for as soon as possible. No later than sixteen hundred today. Your headquarters there has a fax on it now, and will get a phone call later. You better roust your crew out for an early call, and get cracking. You'll take all the goodies you expect to use."

  "Including ammo?"

  "That's right. Everything for land and sea. You'll be able to get some extra ammo when you land with the Air Force. This is not a secure line. You have a telephone tree of some sort?"

  "That we do. I call four, they call the rest."

  "Do it, now. Have your boss call me when you dig him out. I'll see you across the pond."

  They said good-bye and hung up. DeWitt looked over at Milly, who was sitting up listening. "You're going?"

  "This afternoon."

  "Once more, Ed. Just once more, then call the guys."

  "I'll call first, then once more," he said and began dialing. Milly pulled off her nightgown and waited.

  The phone rang, and Murdock shook his head trying to stop the ringing. Then he figured it out, and grabbed the phone.

  "Good morning, this is your four A.M. wake-up call from the front desk of the Hotel Coronado. You have a nice day."

  Murdock hung up the phone, and scowled. "I didn't leave a four A.M. wake-up call."

  He heard a giggle beside him, and looked over at Ardith.

  "I know, I'm wicked and evil and oversexed, but I just wanted to be sure to love you one more time before you went to work."

  "You are wicked ... and wonderful. I don't have to leave here until oh-seven-forty-five. That leaves me five minutes to get to the office and five more to get into my cammies."

  "Shut up," she said, "and slide over here."

  Lieutenant Blake Murdock rolled into his office at oh-seven-fifty-five in his blue jeans and a blue Western shirt. He lifted his brows at the rush of activity from men in the platoon. Inside he saw Lieutenant DeWitt at his desk working over a form.

  "What happened?" Murdock asked.

  "Your phone must have been unplugged," Ed said. "Stroh called me at oh-three-thirty with our marching orders. Douglas and Franklin found the damn nuke place. We fly out of North Island at sixteen-hundred."

  "Oh, yeah. All the guys here?"

  "All except Magic Brown, who must have had his phone off the hook. If he isn't here in thirty, Jaybird will run him down."

  DeWitt got up from the chair. "We're to take everything we'll need for the whole operation, land and sea. All our ammo, weapons, rebreathers, uniforms--the works. I'd figure no wet suits. Too heavy to pack out to the coast from our drop."

  "Right. Is Kat here?"

  "She's checking her gear."

  "Ask her to come in here."

  Kat walked in a minute later, looking trim in her cut-down cammies, but her face had flushed, and a line of perspiration beaded on her forehead.

  "We're taking that much ammo?"

  "You'll be glad you have it. Kat, sit down. One thing we haven't covered." He explained to her that each of the SEALs had to have a last will and testament. Platoon policy.

  "A will? God, I haven't thought about that in years. I have one, wrote it myself so I know it's good. It's on file with a lawyer back in D.C. You need a copy?"

  "No, just your word that you have one, and where it can be found, and your next of kin. File those with Jaybird. Now, how's everything else coming?"

  They talked for a few minutes, then she hurried back to her gear. She was surprised when some of the guys showed her all the things she had to take with her.

  Murdock had his carry-on bag and special backpack ready in two hours. The backpacks would be used for ground movement, to let the men have full use of both hands. That was in addition to the nylon-mesh American Body Armor special operations vest. They had two- to six-magazine pouches across the front, depending on the type weapon the person carried. Their Motorola personal radio fit in back in a watertight bag. Grenade pouches showed on the web belt.

  Murdock moved around the big squad room. There was a tension in the air that hadn't been there yesterday. A sense of purpose, of expectation.

  The banter and the jokes flew hot and heavy, some of them landing on Murdock. He grinned, and shot back at them, and they all laughed.

  By noon most of the men were ready. Magic Brown had come in about 1100 and dug into the task of getting his gear together. He asked Murdock if they could requisition a hundred rounds of .50-caliber HE armor piercing to be picked up at their land base in Saudi Arabia or whatever their Air Force plan would land. Murdock made a quick call to Don Stroh and asked for that plus
several thousand rounds of other ammo they might need. It would be on hand.

  Murdock sat at his desk. He had the paperwork signed and off to Seal Team Seven headquarters. He had checked with North Island and they would have an Air Force plane on the runway ready to take off on schedule. He didn't ask about the route. He didn't want to know. They might be en route for twenty-four hours; he wasn't sure. What was he forgetting?

  Ardith!

  She was expecting him at sixteen hundred for an early supper. He closed his office door and called the Hotel Del. She came on the phone on the first ring.

  "Bad news, Ardith. We're moving out today at four o'clock. I won't be able to see you before we go."

  "Goddammit!"

  He let the silence stretch out. "I was afraid this might happen, but I hoped it wouldn't, not while you were here. I'll stop in Washington when we get back." He could hear her crying. She tried to stop it.

  "Darling Blake, I'm sorry I'm such a ninny. I so hoped that we could have two or three days. Oh, God!" She cried again.

  "Hey, let's talk. I even shut my door, and nobody wanting to keep his head on will come in. Let's talk about last night." They did.

  It was almost an hour later when he hung up the phone and opened his door. Nobody said a word.

  DeWitt came in to report that his squad was all packed and ready to go.

  "I inspected each man. We're ready. Chow at the regular time?"

  "Yes, or go an hour early if you want to. I'll check my squad."

  When he got to it, he found that Jaybird had done it for him. Everyone including Kat was packed up and checked out. They would wear their cammies on the trip, and on the mission. They each had a spare pair. They had rebreathers and flippers, and six sonoboys that would send out locator signals for the submarine.

  First they had to get to the LZ, and then take down the nuke factory.

  He checked with Kat. She sat on a bench by her locker staring straight ahead. "Hey, Kat, sorry you volunteered for this trip?"

  "Volunteered? Who the fuck volunteered?" She said it sharply, then grinned. "How did you know I volunteered?"

  "Nobody does SEAL work with SEALS without agreeing to it. Besides, I checked with your boss in Washington. He gave you two thumbs-up."

  "He better. He owes me." They both laughed. "Ready?"

  "As ready as I'll ever be. I feel comfortable here with these guys. It's like I've found a whole new family, with sixteen brothers."

  "Good. Our job is to get you to that nuke plant alive, and ready to blow up the damn place. We've got more explosives with us than you want to know about. Lots of that new TNAZ that you and Ed shot off. Hot stuff."

  "I've got my handy dandy nuke destruct tool kit," Kat said. "Everything I need, from pliers to a miniature cutting torch, and a radiation safe suit folded up you wouldn't believe how small."

  "Good. You ready to travel?"

  She grinned. "Almost. I may need to go to the bathroom again."

  They both laughed. "That happens to all of us. The nerves are a marvelous diuretic. I was thinking more like a phone call. You get a long distance call on the Navy if you want one."

  "There's just my mom. She's in Connecticut and doesn't know I'm here or anything about this. I do a lot of traveling. No, I don't think a call."

  Three of the platoon used Murdock's office to make calls. Then it was time to saddle up and move out. Every man carried his own gear and ammo. Three had drag bags, including those for the big .50-caliber sniper rifles. They boarded two trucks outside the quarterdeck and headed for the North Island Naval Air Station, about three miles away.

  22

  Tuesday, November 1

  2010 hours Hill country north of Chah Bahar Iran

  Joe Douglas looked at Franklin where he lay in the shelter on the side of the gully.

  "Hey, you awake?"

  "Sure, asshole. I always snore when I'm awake."

  "It's past twenty hundred, maybe we should go topside, and wait for the guys."

  "When did the radio say they were coming in?"

  "Last SATCOM message said between twenty and twenty-two hundred tonight."

  "How can they see this saddle in the dark?" Franklin asked.

  "Same way we did, where it blocks out the stars."

  They worked their way up the slope to the top of the saddle, and walked into it a hundred yards. Then they stopped and waited.

  "I still don't like the signal light idea. How will we know it's them?"

  "Who else would be flying a big plane over this area, exactly at this time? We'll know. They make one pass, we flash the light three times. They key in on it and make their low-level jump, and all is right with the world."

  "If it works. What's the odds of losing at least one man on a night low-level jump?"

  "Ten percent, but both of us made it."

  "Yeah, but what about Kat?"

  "She's made more than two dozen jumps now."

  "None at night at low level."

  "Quiet, what's that?"

  Douglas held up one hand, and they both listened. The sound came from the south. The small purr grew into a sizable one, and then a growl.

  "Sounds like one of them turbo props, maybe the same C130 that brought us in," Franklin said.

  They listened and watched, then it was obvious that the plane was heading straight for them. The pilot would have the exact position. Douglas picked up the strobe light and flicked it on and off three times, aiming it south. The powerful, surging flashes jolted south toward the plane. There was no recognition signal from the plane.

  Then the sound was almost on top of them. Douglas stabbed the light three times again just before the big bird thundered over them at less than a thousand feet. He was sure the big plane was below the tops of the mountains on both sides of the saddle.

  The plane made a turn away from the nuke plant to the north, and came back, and this time it seemed to be throttled down. Again, Douglas hit the strobe. It was aimed away from the nuke plant so they couldn't possibly see it.

  "There," Franklin said. "Hear the change in the sound? Like the big rear hatch came open." A moment later he nodded in the darkness. The engine speed had picked up, and sounded different. "The engine picked up when those fifteen fully loaded SEALs ran out the ass end of that C130. Our buddies are coming down."

  Douglas kept hitting the strobe now as they stood there watching the sky, trying to find the black chutes blotting out the stars. For a moment Douglas thought he saw one, then he wasn't sure.

  He hit the strobe light every five seconds now.

  Somewhere ahead they heard a yell.

  Closer by something hit the dirt and skidded.

  "Ho, SEALS," Douglas called.

  "Ho yourself," somebody said from close by. "Hit that light and aim it along the ground," a voice said.

  "L-T, that you?" Douglas asked.

  "Me and my buddies. On me, you landlocked SEALS." His last was a bellow. It brought a series of calls from around the area.

  Murdock came up to them dragging his black chute. He unhooked the straps and stepped free, then put down his pack and the bag he carried.

  "Morning, Franklin, Douglas. Good to find you guys. Black as the inside of an inkwell out here. Hooooooo, This way. Men, assemble on me."

  They straggled in then in ones and twos. One came in who was shorter than the rest.

  "Kat, that you?" Murdock asked.

  "What's left of me. This low-level jumping shit has got to stop." Half a dozen of them laughed.

  "Glad you made it, Kat. Any tears, rips, broken bones?"

  "I'm all in one chunk, but a little bruised up. What else is new?"

  "Is Jaybird here yet?" Murdock asked. "He was the last man out. Somebody get me a body count. Stand still, everyone." Four more SEALs came in. Magic Brown came up a minute later.

  "I've got a count of thirteen chutes, L-T. We still need two more."

  "Keep the light going, Douglas. Fernandez and Franklin, take a hike and see if
you can find anybody. We might have lost one over the side. Douglas, where can we see the damn nuke plant?"

  Douglas took them to the north two hundred yards and showed them the glow of the lights.

  "Oh, yeah, that's more lights than we saw since we left Saudi Arabia. Got to be it. Five miles from here?"

  "What we estimated in the daytime."

  "The plan is to get situated here and make a move toward the plant tomorrow night. We'll send out a recon patrol tonight to figure out the best way to get there. We'll need some cover closer than this. How tight is the security?"

  Douglas told Murdock and the rest of them about the daily chopper overflights of the flat area of the saddle, and about the chopper attack, and the three soldiers who chased their car.

  "The car went back south so they probably are still hunting it," Douglas said.

  They went back where they had dumped their chutes and packs. Magic Johnson was there with the missing Al Adams and Doc Ellsworth.

  "Adams has a badly sprained right ankle where he hit some rocks on landing," Doc said. "I put a bandage on it but he won't walk too well for twenty-four."

  "Got it," Murdock said. "Any other hurts, sprains, rips, or tears?"

  Kenneth Ching had a slash on his left arm that Doc treated and tied up.

  Murdock called them all around him in the dark.

  "Yeah, we're on-site. Now we get down to business. Lampedusa and I will take a recon and be back before daylight. We've got to be invisible tomorrow. Douglas and Franklin will get you situated in the gullies around the sides of this place. Use your camo cloths and lots of sand when the chopper comes over. Remember, don't move when you can see the chopper. That means he can see you. No firing. Let him look and scoot.

  "I want every man to take care of his own chute and harness. Bury them down the sides in the gullies where moved dirt won't be a clue. Lampedusa, we'll leave our gear and chutes here for Franklin and Douglas to take care of. All of you find a hide hole and get situated. You can get some sleep in before dawn. Lam, let's get the hell out of here."

  They used their NVG, night vision goggles, and that helped out at once, showing a gentle slope down from the saddle to a small valley below and then a ridge beyond it. They climbed the second ridge without finding much in the way of an easy route to the nuke plant. It would be muscle versus the mountain.