Frank Gomez's startled voice came over the LASH systems. Oigan! Hay unos burros alla en un corral! He quickly recovered and spoke again in English. Hey, guys, there's a bunch of donkeys in a pen over there.
Next came the sound of Mike Assad chuckling. Let's send 'em to OCS.
Knock it off, Assad! the Skipper said.
Aye, sir!
You better keep in mind that we're on an objective, and there're nasty people over there, Brannigan snarled. He was flanked by Guy Devereaux and Andy Malachenko, and spoke again into his LASH. Vehicle commanders, report!
Alpha Two, Connie Concord replied. Ready! The others Jim Cruiser, Gutsy Olson, Senior Chief Dawkins, and Chief Matt Gunnarson all answered in proper order.
Very well, Brannigan said calmly. He had been studying the mud huts through his binoculars and had seen no one stirring in the area. It was obvious that the inhabitants took advantage of being able to sleep in late while the main caravan was gone. This was also a sign that their smuggler rivals were no longer a threat, having undoubtedly learned a couple of hard lessons in the past when they tried to raid the place.
The Skipper estimated the range to the objective to be approximately 100 meters, well within the limits of the M-203's 1,500-meter capability. Okay. The first maneuver element will be Bravo Two, Charlie One, and Charlie Two. The covering element will be Alpha One, Alpha Two, and Bravo One. On my command, the grenadiers will fire one round at the huts. That will be the signal for the maneuver element to move out and the cover element to go to the deck and lay down fire. Get ready. Execute!
The six weapons were fired at almost the same time, making what seemed like one loud detonation. The projectiles arched upward and the trajectory continued until they hit in a scattered pattern within the site. The wall of one of the huts was blown in and the roof collapsed, crashing down on the men inside.
The maneuver element, responding to the bellowed commands of the senior chief, was already rushing forward under the protection of the covering fusillades that splattered into the target area from the covering element. One individual appeared in a window and began to return fire. Doc Bradley, the only man with a grenade launcher in the maneuvering group, slowed down enough to quickly aim and shoot off a projectile. The round missed the window, but struck the building just below it, sending chunks of dry hard mud inward, cutting down the would-be resister in a whirling shower of loose but lethal earthen clods.
Dawkins' group had reached the edge of the enemy camp, and the senior chief ordered his men to hit the dirt. Now they became the covering element while Brannigan led his group in a rush toward the huts. The return fire was steadily building up, but the SEALs replied in kind, sweeping the area with three-round automatic fire bursts from their M-16s. The mud construction of the buildings was pocked by multiple strikes of slugs as hunks of the material flew off in all directions. Brannigan's bunch took cover in the collapsed structure, putting down a heavy fire on the other two.
Dawkins led his men into the compound, taking cover near the donkey pen. Both groups of SEALs were now positioned to inflict a heavy cross fire into the other buildings. The fiery fusillades struck windows and blew holes in the walls from two directions. Most of the resisters were down within a half minute, their sprawled corpses badly torn up by multiple hits from the 5.56 rounds. A half-dozen defenders toward the rear couldn't take it anymore. They pulled away from their fighting positions and made a run out the rear where there was no incoming fire.
Bruno Puglisi and Joe Miskoski saw the six people running toward them. The two SEALs lay on the ground, their sniper rifles supported by bipods. They began aiming through the telescopic sights, their trigger fingers working methodically and rhythmically. Every round was a head shot, and the fleeing men's craniums began bursting open like hot ripe watermelons being struck by hard blows from a baseball bat. A couple were flipped over on their backs, three spun around before collapsing to the ground, and the sixth continued running for an astounding half-dozen paces without a head before he stumbled and fell.
The battle was over.
Back among the buildings, most of the SEALs glanced over at the donkeys. They were glad to see that none had been injured during the short, blazing firefight. Senior Chief Dawkins bellowed, What the hell are you standing around for? Check the area out! There might be some crazy ragheads playing dead.
The men moved through the debris, noting the corpses of the defenders. All had died in the heavy hail of bullets from the attackers. Pete Dawson announced, These guys ain't rag-heads. They're military. See? Ever'one of 'em is wearing some sort of uniform.
Chad Murchison, who collected military insignia as a hobby, knelt down beside one dead man for a closer look. Hey! This isn't the Afghan Army. They're Iranians.
Brannigan walked up. Are you sure, Murchison?
Yes, sir, Chad replied. Those are Iranian insignia without a doubt.
Brannigan looked around. Where the hell is Leibowitz?
Here, sir!
Get out that digital camera and take pictures of these guys, the Skipper said. Commander Berringer will be interested in this.
As Leibowitz went to work recording the unexpected evidence, the rest of the detachment began searching for more intelligence. By that time, Puglisi and Miskoski had rejoined the group. Nobody got away, Miskoski announced.
Puglisi gave his AS-50 a fond look. I wish the Godfather in my old neighborhood hadn't been ratted out. If he was still running the family, I could use this baby to make a lot of money whacking guys he didn't like.
You fucking gangster, Miskoski remarked dryly.
Hey, it's a living, Puglisi protested.
Dawkins reported to the Skipper, informing him the search was finished without any significant results. These dead Iranians got nothing that would interest Commander Berringer.
Okay, Brannigan announced. Let's get back to the DPVs. We've still got the main smuggler group to deal with.
Sir, Gomez said. There ain't anybody to feed them donkeys. Let me put some fodder out in the troughs and make sure they got enough water for at least a few days, okay?
Sure, Brannigan acquiesced. But hurry up!
Gutsy Olson, Garth Redhawk, and Pech Pecheur joined him to take care of the animals, who were badly shook up from the noise of the gunfight. It only took ten minutes to make sure the beasts of burdens could get by comfortably for a little while.
Form up! Dawkins yelled.
The SEALs quickly fell into a column formation and headed back toward their vehicles with Assad and Leibowitz in the lead.
.
OPIUM DELIVERY SITE
IRANIAN SIDE OF THE BORDER
1100 HOURS
THE sale of the opium poppy powder was not made in Turkey. Instead, the transaction occurred a short distance away on the Iranian side of the border. This temporary arrangement had been necessary due to the increased activity of Turkish Army and police units. These groups had been showing a growing propensity to search out poppy smugglers, even if the Turks could not legally cross over the international border to make arrests. This increased activity had also stymied the arms dealer Harry Turpin; he was unable to bring in an anticipated load of ammunition.
To make sure the restless Turks stayed in their own country, strong armored units of the Iranian Army had scheduled maneuvers in the immediate area. They were well prepared to deal with any incursions into their own native land. The armed Toyota pickup trucks were arranged in such away as to provide an effective defense in case the Turkish authorities decided to use harassing fire to break up the confab.
No money was exchanged at the site. Those individuals involved in the commerce conducted the financial end of the business through banks in Switzerland. Dummy corporations in Asia were used to launder the dollars, euros, pounds, francs, and marks that filtered through the elaborate system. Even agencies of the United Nations were involved, as shady agents of the international organization gave priority to the narcotics trade over humanitarian effo
rts when there was a great deal of money to be made.
Arsalaan Sikes Pasha stood to the side as the bundles were transferred from the trucks to the smugglers' vehicles. These intrepid Turkish criminals had already worked out alternative routes for getting the goods through their nation's law enforcement nets. While the dealing was going on, Husay Ban-gash and a couple of other Pashtuns made purchases on credit from peddlers who offered tools, housewares, food, clothing, and other items from the West. These were the goodies loaded on the donkey train that would be taken from the rendezvous point back up to the stronghold in the Gharawdara Highlands. The debt would be paid out of the shares due Yama Orakzai and his people from the poppy sales.
Captain Naser Khadid stood beside Sikes as the exchanges went on. Well, Sikes Pasha, the Iranian SF officer said, now you can see why the Pashtun people appreciate all that Pepsi and potato chips and the other items that Bangash brings back with him from these journeys.
I was looking over there, Sikes said. I noticed some boxes of chocolate biscuits. Those should be popular.
And this time there are also canned fruit juices that had not been available before, Khadid said. Peach and apple flavors will make a nice change. It is unfortunate there is no ice to make them taste better.
Them Pashtos don't know the difference, hey? Sikes remarked. If you'd never tasted icing, you wouldn't mind just plain cake, would you? He turned his glance over to the bundles still being off-loaded and on-loaded in the exchange. It wouldn't seem there'd be enough money in these runs to pay for a war.
This exchange is just part of it, Khadid explained. Our government is also involved in the sale of the finished product. Every time a Western drug addict or some rich person using the narcotics for recreation makes a purchase, they are financing not only our operation, but other similar ones all over the world.
Yeah, Sikes said. And there ain't no bluddy way the Western world can put a stop to it, is there, hey?
Khadid shrugged. Only if they made the drugs legal. Then the prices would drop to a point where it would be only as profitable as the buying and selling of candy bars.
That ain't likely to happen, is it? Wot about all them coppers and others who get payoffs by letting the stuff slip through their systems, hey? They'd be out a pretty penny or two, you can bet on that.
I must admit we depend on the greed and immorality of the authorities, Khadid said.
The two slipped into silence as they watched the activity continue while the sun rose toward its daily zenith.
.
BOSTON
19 MAY
1600 HOURS
PENNY Brubaker's packing was almost done. The two maids with her in the boudoir were placing the last things in her trunks after carefully leaving her traveling wardrobe out for the next day's flight to California. The luggage would be shipped by UPS Air within a week.
Her cousin, Stephanie Gilwright, came into the bedroom, glancing at the work going on. I see you're about ready as well.
Are all your things packed, Stephie? Penny asked.
All ready except for Harrington, Stephie said. She and Penny looked so much alike, strangers thought them sisters. The only real difference in their physical appearances was the fact that Stephie had raven-black hair. He's still balking at the whole undertaking.
Then you'd better keep an eye on him, Penny warned her.
Not to worry. He's downstairs sulking.
We need to fetch him up here, Penny said. I think I should give a rather stern warning to my cousin-in-law.
Stephie laughed. I was hoping you would say so. He's always had a crush on you. Even if he puts up an argument, he'll do exactly as you tell him.
I always felt a little awkward about his feelings toward me, Penny said. I was afraid you might resent it.
Not a bit, Stephie said with a slight giggle. He married me because I look so much like you. And I married him because his family is so rich. Even richer than my own. Harrington doesn't have to work and as long as I don't interfere with his drinking, he pretty much lets me have my way. It's really quite convenient, and I'm given a generous allowance. Between him and my trust fund, I have some seventy-five thousand a year to fritter away.
And as your most loyal shopping companion, Penny said, I bear witness to your extravagant frittering.
The let's get Harrington up here.
Mildred, Penny said to one of the maids. Go downstairs and tell Mr. Gilwright to come up here.
He'll be the half-drunk little sot in the library, Stephie said. The maid stopped her packing chores and left the room.
Don't worry, Stephie. He's just being stubborn.
The maid returned within a couple of minutes with Harrington Gilwright behind her. He joined his wife and her cousin. He was an incredibly slim young man with thinning hair and a weak chin. His face was flushed from a couple of quick cocktails and his thick eyebrows were knitted into a frown. What d'you two want?
What we want, Penny said, is for you to stop being such an asshole.
Well, why shouldn't I be? he said defensively. I'm not at all sure I want to live in California.
You'll absolutely love Coronado, Stephie said. The winters are very mild. You can sit out on the veranda in the sun even in January and drink yourself into glorious stupefaction.
They have patios, not verandas, in California, Penny said. Anyway, I've already leased us a very nice house on San Diego Bay.
Harrington's frown increased. The only reason you're taking the place is to be close to Chadwick. I don't see why you don't just go out there alone, and leave Stephie and me in peace.
I cannot go by myself because my grandmamai will not permit it, Penny said. Although I'm of age, she is an old-fashioned woman.
Tell her to mind her own business, why don't you? Harrington said.
She still has control over my trusts, Penny said.
Harrington had a perfect understanding of that situation since it was trusts that kept him from having to be gainfully employed. But he wasn't through arguing. Well, she let you go to the United Nations, didn't she?
Grandmamai is a staunch limousine liberal from Massachusetts who believes in the UN, Penny said. But all that is beside the point. She would only give in if Stephie came with me. And Stephie can't go unless you go without creating trouble on your side of the family. So you are going, Harrington. Give in and avoid a lot of trouble.
We'll be there too long! Harrington snapped. I don't like being away from the New England social scene any more than I have to.
I won't need you and Stephie to be there for very much time, Penny said.
Yes, you will! Your whole idea of going there is to trap Chadwick into marriage, Harrington pointed out. That could be, like, never ever. I really don't think he wants to marry you since he's become a seal or a walrus or whatever those brutes call themselves.
Ha! Penny laughed. Men don't know what to think when it comes to getting married.
That's right, Stephie agreed. That's one subject we women have dominated since time began.
And another thing, Harrington said, you have no idea when he's coming back from the Middle East. He might be over there for another year or two.
Then I'm sure you'll have learned to really love California by then, Penny said.
Well, we must go, Stephie said, grabbing Harrington's arm. There's still a lot we have to attend to before tomorrow's flight.
Let's stop for a drink on the way home, Harrington begged as he was dragged from the room.
Penny turned her attention back to the maids and her trunks.
.
NORTHERN OA
20 MAY
0700 HOURS
THE SEALs were in position to hit the smuggling column when it returned from its delivery. The Bravo DPVs were a half-dozen kilometers to the west, well concealed in a stand of boulders. Their assignment, under the command of Lieutenant Junior Grade Jim Cruiser, was to report when the bad guys passed their position, then discreetly follow them, remain
ing out of sight. Senior Chief Buford Dawkins had his Charlies to the east, lying in wait.
The action would begin when the smugglers reached a point directly in front of the Alphas. That was when the Skipper and Petty Officer Connie Concord would take their vehicles into a direct attack on the enemy. The action would be the signal for the Bravos and Charlies to launch their own assaults. Because of the rugged high country to the south, the smugglers would have no choice but to go directly toward one of the SEAL sections if they decided to fight back. That would leave the other two the leeway to play the game in the best way possible, depending on how the battle developed.
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