Seal Team Seven 08 - Pacific Siege Page 4

  Murdock could imagine the worry about the chopper back at its base.

  He pulled up the rigs a mile from the crash site and sent a cryptic note on the SATCOM about the chopper, asking for another pickup. A message came back quickly. "Positive there are no survivors? No chance for another pickup. Our radar shows numerous Iraqi aircraft moving into your area. Try to make a run for the border."

  Murdock sent back a message that there was no chance for survivors.

  Then they moved with lights off.

  They had gone no more than a mile when Murdock halted the rigs and turned off the engines. The sound he had thought he heard came again; then a jet fighter roared over their heads at two hundred feet.

  "He couldn't see us and he doesn't have good enough radar to spot us on the ground. We'd be so much screen clutter. He's fishing, but we've got to be careful. We'll keep the trucks a hundred yards apart, and move slowly toward the border. Maybe eight miles from here now."

  The men heard a swooshing sound, and all of them dove out of the rigs and hit the ground.

  Another Rocket Propelled Grenade. It slammed into the ground ten yards from the truck, but shrapnel sprayed forward, smashing the windshield, puncturing the gas tank, and chewing up the fuel line on the engine.

  "Where did it come from?" Murdock asked his mike.

  "From the north," Ed Dewitt said. "I've got three men moving that way. There's a little gully over there. They could be on the lip of it. Anybody hit by that hot steel? Casualty report."

  "Yeah, L-T. Adams. I picked up a scratch on my leg. Tore my cammies. Not bleeding much."

  "L-T. Douglas. Caught some of that steel on my right arm. Dug in deep. Doc better take a look."

  "I'll find you, Douglas," Doc said.

  A moment later, they heard gunfire, then more gunfire.

  "Nailed two of them, L-T," Gonzalez said on the Motorola. "They have some kind of a jeep rig and bugged out before we could get anybody else. Don't think we hurt their transport much."

  At the truck, Joe Douglas had been checking it out. He ground the starter six times. Nothing. With a small flashlight, he looked the engine over. "No way, L-T," he told Dewitt. "The engine is a mess, fuel line is in ten pieces, a bunch of wiring is chopped up. Take me a week to make it run. Besides, all the gas leaked out. Lucky it didn't blow up on us."

  "Let's get to the half-track," Murdock said on the radio. "We'll load as many on it as we can; the rest of us will jog along beside it.

  We'll change off every two miles. We've got a border to find."

  Ten minutes later, they heard a chopper coming. The men scattered away from the half-track. Murdock manned the fifty-caliber MG. He knew the chopper gunners could see the half-track in the pale moonlight. It wasn't supposed to be here. That would be enough for a shoot.

  He got off six five-round bursts with the big weapon, but wasn't sure if he scored any hits. Then the bird was coming in on a missile run, and Murdock jumped off the half-track and sprinted away thirty yards before the missile hit the vehicle. The first explosion was enough to destroy it; then a secondary explosion ripped through it, and the half-track became various refrigerator-sized pieces of junk scattered around the desert.

  As the chopper came over the rig on its firing run, the SEAL platoon returned fire. Bill Bradford had his Big Fifty out, and got off six rounds as the chopper came over. The last two jolted into the chopper and it began trailing smoke. It tipped left and nearly hit the ground, then righted itself, before it lost power and dropped straight down three hundred feet and burst into flames.

  "Take that, Turkey," Bradford called, and the rest of the SEALs cheered.

  Murdock hit his mike. "Listen up. We're on foot, and still seven or eight miles from the border. Mr. Salwa knows the territory, so he'll be our guide. We'll form up in a column of ducks ten yards apart and move out of here at double time. That chopper radioed in our position for damn sure. Let's motor."

  They kept moving, with Murdock setting the pace at a brisk six miles an hour. He kept a lead scout out a hundred yards and a rear guard as far back as he could see the main body. As far as they knew, no one followed them through the half-moon Iraqi night.

  They hiked hard for an hour, then took a break. Lam roamed the area around them, and came back reporting that he saw nothing except two night birds, and heard only a few small scurrying night animals.

  Murdock had Holt fire up the SATCOM again, and he reported shooting down the Iraqi chopper. He told them they were aiming southwest for the nearest point of the border with Saudi Arabia. He asked for any orders.

  The reply came back quickly. "Kuwait border area alive and active with Iraqi troops and choppers. Do not try to approach. We can send no airlift support. Keep us informed. Good idea on the Saudi border.

  Good luck."

  The SEALs sat in the sand and rocks of the Iraqi border area resting. The kidnap victim had stayed close to Murdock. He thanked Murdock again for his rescue.

  "Our army simply doesn't have any commandos like you folks. We don't have the skills. Now it is my hope that we can get to one of the borders safely. It would not go well for me if either El Raza or Saddam Hussein's men caught me."

  When Holt had the SATCOM packed up, they moved again. They had heard more jet aircraft, but they were miles away evidently searching a different area. There was a lot of desert out there to cover, Murdock decided.

  They had hiked for fifteen minutes on their southwest course when Murdock heard the unmistakable sound of helicopters heading toward them.

  "Two choppers, maybe three coming in from the north," Dewitt said.

  "I can see searchlights."

  "Spread out and get into the dirt," Murdock said. The SEALs scattered twenty yards apart, lay down in the sand and rocks of the desert, and spread handfuls of the sand over their cammies to make them even harder to see. Weapons were hidden under their bodies.

  The choppers made a pass two hundred yards to the north of them, then circled back, and came within a hundred yards of their position.

  "Nobody move, don't even breathe," Murdock said softly into his lip mike.

  Murdock watched with surprise as the two choppers settled down to a landing four hundred yards away. The birds landed about fifty yards apart, and were larger than he had first thought.

  Each chopper had on landing lights, and he could see twenty combat troops jump down from each one. The troops formed up, and then spread out in a skirmish search pattern and began walking directly toward where the SEALs lay.

  4.

  Tuesday, 9 January

  Southeastern Desert

  Iraq

  Ed Dewitt and Jaybird moved up beside Murdock. "Range to the choppers?" Murdock asked.

  "Four hundred yards," Jaybird said. "We can't outrun them. We'll have to stand and fight sometime."

  "Let's hit them with the Fifty, kill the choppers, then we can take on the troops," Dewitt said.

  Murdock watched the enemy troops move forward cautiously. The SEALs had another ten minutes before the Iraqi soldiers overran them.

  "Get Bradford working with the fifty," Murdock said. "With his first shot we use the MGs on the choppers, and the rest of us with long guns get down on the troops. Go."

  Ed left to pass the word to his men. The sixteen SEALs moved up into a line of skirmishers facing the enemy troops. Two minutes after the decision, everyone was in place, and Bradford fired his first round.

  It hit the lead chopper in the engine compartment. Its rotor died where it had been idling.

  The other SEALs with long guns opened up on the troops advancing on them. Four or five went down before the Iraqis hit the dirt. The two machine guns chattered at the choppers. One burst into flames. The second one had died in place.

  Then Joe Douglas and Horse Ronson turned their machine-gun sights on the advancing troops. When the MGs took over, the Iraqi troops were pinned down. They couldn't advance into the deadly machine-gun and rifle fire, and they couldn't stand up to retreat.

  Miguel Fernandez with his sniper rifle picked off a soldier whenever he found one moving or showing above the desert terrain.

  The firefight was too far away for those men with the MP-5's.

  Murdock used his radio, and told all the MP-5 shooters to crawl to the rear. Thirty yards away was a small wadi that had been dug out by the occasional cloudbursts. He got them into it, then pulled back everyone but the machine gunners. He stayed with the MG men until the rest of the platoon was in the gully.

  He signaled for Ronson to cease fire and get to the rear and the safety of the wadi. He used Douglas to keep up firing across the spread of the enemy troops.

  They were taking only an occasional round from the Iraqi troops, who had just lost their transport. They could be thinking about the long walk back to their base.

  "Let's go," Murdock told Douglas. He folded the bipod, and they ran the first twenty yards before the Iraqis realized they weren't taking fire anymore. A few rounds came, then more. Murdock and Douglas hit the dirt, and crawled. At the same time, the SEAL long guns from the top of the wadi spoke, and silenced the Iraqi weapons.

  Murdock and Douglas rolled over the lip of the ravine, and tumbled to the bottom six feet down.

  "Let's move," Murdock said. "Form up, and double-time out of here, down the gully, and when we get some distance, we'll bug out southwest.

  Move, move, move."

  They ran down the ravine. It gradually got deeper but headed to the south, so they kept in it.

  By the time they had been running for five minutes, Murdock called a halt on his radio. "Lam, take a look over the rim, and see if you can spot anybody trailing us."

  Lam crawled up the ten-foot-high bank, and stared back the way they had come. He used his NVGs, and checked out every area he could see.

  When he dropped down from the bank, he shook his head.

  "Can't see a rat's ass of them out there, Commander. Not a farting one."

  "They're probably trying to figure out if they have any radio to contact their base," Dewitt said. "If no radio, they'll have one fucking long hike."

  Murdock turned to Salwa. "Any of this area look familiar to you?"

  The Kuwaiti official shook his head. "Not right here. There are wadies like this all over this end of the desert. The rain comes down in bucketfuls, and runs off just as fast."

  "So, it's southwest again. Let's get up the bank, and on the move.

  The time is now oh-oh-forty-five. We have maybe six hours to sunrise, if we're lucky."

  Four men went up and over the bank. Before anyone else could climb the bank, they all heard rifle fire from somewhere in front. The four men dropped back down again.

  "Whole shitpot full of them not a hundred yards out there," Lampedusa said. "Looks like they came down another arroyo somewhere and found us."

  Murdock motioned the long guns to the top of the bank. He sent three men with MP-5's down each way along the gully for thirty yards.

  "Look over the top of the bank, and shoot if you've got a target," Murdock told the men with long guns. "We don't want them any closer.

  Let's use some forty-mike grenades if it looks good. Now."

  He moved up, and watched over the lip of the ravine. He could barely make out a line of Iraqi troops in front. They would go to ground with the first shot. His MP-5 wouldn't get that far.

  "Fire when ready," he said to his lip mike. The two machine guns and the two sniper rifles blazed and chattered. Murdock thought he saw three men hit in the firing; then the troops ahead dropped into the dirt making poor targets. His men ducked below the ridge as they took return fire.

  Lampedusa was back at the top of the bank with his NVG, and his Colt 4-A1. He picked out a target through the Night Vision Goggles and fired.

  "Yes," he said, and dropped down.

  Murdock handed his NVGs to Horse Ronson, who popped up with his machine gun and soon fired three five-round bursts, then came back down to his protection.

  "Them assholes don't have no cover out there," Ronson said. A flurry of rounds slammed over the top of the ravine; then all four long guns went back up, and Lam made it five. The long guns took turns firing to keep the Iraqi troops pinned down, as Lam loaded a 40mm grenade and fired. He was long. He fired a second round, a WP, and saw the flash as the furiously burning white phosphorus rained down on half a dozen of the Iraqi shooters out front.

  Down to the left, Murdock heard some firing. He ran that way to find his three men with MP-5's crouched along the side of the ravine, firing straight ahead.

  Murdock felt some rounds slam past him, and he pasted himself against the side of the ditch, then hurried on to his three men.

  "Skipper, we caught four of them trying to outflank us along here.

  We dropped three of them, but missed the fourth. Figure he's long gone now heading for the rest of the troops."

  "Let's look at the bodies," Murdock said. They were only fifty feet up the gully. Two of them had AK-47's, and the third some foreign make of submachine gun.

  All were dead.

  "Bring the two AK-47's," Murdock said. "We might need them. And get all the ammo you can find." Murdock looked at the submachine gun, and dropped it. He preferred his MP-5.

  "Stay here and watch for any more of them," Murdock said. "I'll bring you back in as soon as I think it's safe."

  He ran back to the main body. Jaybird saw him coming in the darkness, and intercepted him.

  "That first man over the side got hit, Commander. It's Gonzalez.

  Doc says the round went into his upper chest. Not sure if it missed his lung or not. So far no trouble breathing. He can walk, but he won't be doing much with his weapon."

  Murdock found Gonzalez. Doc was still with him.

  "Hang in there, Gonzalez. Doc is fixing you up. We're almost to the border. A piece of cake from here. Do what Doc tells you, and take it easy."

  Doc went with Murdock off a dozen yards. "Not good, Commander.

  Bullet's up high, might have missed a lung, but it might have punctured it and it could collapse."

  "How far can he walk?"

  "Don't know. I just hope he isn't bleeding inside. I'll stay with him."

  Murdock nodded, and checked with Jaybird on the top of the bank.

  "They tried one rush, but went down when we opened up again with the MGs. My guess is they are down to maybe twenty who can fight. The odds are getting better."

  "Let's get all of the Colts up here, and throw out about twenty forty-mike-mike. That's the best way to rout them. If we can make them run, then we can choggie down our ravine. Don't know where the hell it's going, but it's away from here."

  Jaybird called up the men with the Colt carbines that could fire the grenades. He had five Colts.

  "Five rounds each," Jaybird said. "Alternate HE and WP if you've got them. Let's get this fracas settled."

  Murdock told the MG guys to do twenty rounds each just before the grenades went out. They did.

  The grenades fell just after the machine guns tapered off. Murdock watched from the top edge of the bank. He saw one Iraqi leap up, and run to the rear. Good. Five grenades had dropped in, and he could hear some screams. Then the second volley. Just as it ended, two more men raced away to the rear into the darkness.

  Murdock used his mike. "You six flankers, come in. We're going to be shagging ass here in about three."

  Murdock watched the last three volleys of grenades explode on the Iraqi troops. Some were long, two were short, but enough hit the flattened troops to rout them. When the last of the small bombs went off, Murdock used his NVGs and saw six men limping to the rear. Six more leaped up and ran hard back the way they had come.

  Murdock used the mike again. "Doc, you and Gonzales head down the gully. We'll follow it another mile if we can. At least it gives us some protection. We'll catch up. Don't push him too hard."

  Gonzalez heard the message in his radio. He snorted. "What the hell he mean, not push me too hard. I'm a hairy-assed, nookie-fucking SEAL, goddamnit. I can keep up with this shitty outfit any day."

  Doc Ellsworth agreed with him. Doc took Gonzalez's weapon over his shoulder and helped him stand.

  "Okay, now nice and easy, RG. We ain't in no damned race here. We just move, right?"

  Doc was surprised how slow Gonzalez walked. The bullet had done more than drill one small hole. It hadn't come out his back, so it was inside somewhere causing all sorts of hell. Doc hoped that Gonzalez could last for a mile.

  Murdock and the rest of the platoon moved out a few minutes later, and caught the slow-moving Gonzalez quickly. Murdock slowed the pace, put Lam out in front, and told him to check the sides of the ravine every few minutes. He had Jaybird riding Tail End Charlie as rear guard.

  Murdock figured the pace was about three miles an hour. If Gonzalez could maintain it for two hours, they should be right next door to the Saudi border. A damn big if, he knew.

  He called Ed up and laid it out. "War games, Ed. We're in this situation, and you're El Raza. You know about where we are. What are you going to do after the choppers didn't nail us?"

  Ed took a deep breath. Murdock had caught him doing that several times when he wanted a minute to think. He shifted his weapon to the other shoulder, and motioned with his right hand.

  "First, I'd get some troops out in front of where it looks like we're headed. I'd cover both of the borders. Say about three miles away from the line. Put a blocking force of all the men I could spare.

  We know El Raza had two hundred men at one time. We lowered his force by at least a dozen, maybe fifteen or twenty.

  "He has some choppers. Just how many we don't know. So I'd use choppers or half-tracks and move eighty men into blocking positions along the Saudi border and along the Kuwait boundary. Then I'd sit and wait for us to fall into the trap, or for daylight when my jets could do the job."

  "El Raza doesn't have any jets."

  "Then whose were those we saw?"

  "Probably Uncle Saddam. He may be in the equation now. If so, he's got all the firepower, and men, he wants. But would he pull El Raza's chestnuts out of the pot? Why would he?"

  "To give Uncle Sam a bloody nose. He's already shot down one U.S. chopper and should be able to prove it. If he could capture or kill sixteen U.S. military men on Iraq soil, he could shout invasion and all sorts of wild things in the world court of public opinion. And he'd win the round."