Ambush

6

Murdock felt like a quarter horse had been galloping through the inside of his head. They had taken a long series of flights, but even in the sleek Gulfstream II business jet the Navy called the VC-11, it had been an exhausting day and a half. The men were bunked down in temporary quarters there at the air base at Davao while the briefing continued. The American ambassador was on hand, as well as two top Philippine generals and the nation’s Vice President, Rosales Domingo. A colonel in charge of the Mindanao province continued the briefing.

“As of today there seems to be no change. The rebels have demanded a hundred thousand U.S. dollars for each hostage. Our best count is that they have sixty-four hostages: two Filipino guides and two Filipino drivers, and sixty nationals from sixteen different foreign countries.

“Our government has urged the governments of those nations not to allow any ransom money to be sent to these criminal outlaws. This offshoot of the Moro Islamic Liberation Front is notorious for supporting itself by kidnapping. Usually it’s a Chinese businessman or visiting merchant who is kidnapped; a ransom demand is made, it’s quickly paid, and business continues as usual. This is a flagrant expansion of that operation, and we want it stopped and crushed for all time.

“That is why we have asked for help. The kidnappings are now two days old. Yesterday we sent in a well-armed Army force to rout out one of the strongholds of the rebels where we suspected they might have the hostages. Our force of twenty-five men suffered eighty percent casualties including nine dead. The team did not reach the strong point, or even see it, and barely saw the dug-in guerrillas. They knew we were coming.”

Murdock’s forehead pounded like a Chinese gong on New Year’s Eve. It was his version of a headache produced by too much caffeine and too little sleep and too much tension. DeWitt and Senior Chief Sadler didn’t look in much better shape, he decided.

Murdock jerked his attention back to the colonel talking.

“So, we come to you for help. This small force you have sent us seems woefully inadequate. Sixteen men? We understand that there are more than two hundred and fifty rebels in this group holding the hostages. We can give you what intelligence we have on them. We know of two camps they use in the jungle. One is the one we tried to attack yesterday. The other is deeper into the jungle and would require a helicopter trip, which we can provide.” He paused and then looked at Murdock.

“Commander, what can you suggest for this operation?”

“Nothing at the moment, Colonel. My planning team will go over your data and information, then come up with an attack plan and consult with you for possible use of your choppers and a possible backup squad of your Marines. The planning will not take long. The time now is 1235. We should be able to stage an attack with first dark tonight. What helicopters do you use, Colonel?”

“We have the ones you are used to, Commander, the CH-46.”

“Good. Keep one on standby here. I’ll meet with my men and consult with you in two hours about our plan. We’ll want any input from you, the attachment of two guides who know the area we’ll move to, and the location of the two targets.”

“Commander, we’ll have that information and personnel all assigned as soon as you’re ready.”

The three SEALs went back to the quarters they had been assigned to and stared at the oversized map of Mindanao. It was an irregular island 350 miles wide and almost that long top to bottom. The two targets the Philippine Army colonel had designated were about fifty miles from Davao in the middle of the mountains. There were no roads or trails within twenty miles of the camps.

Murdock pulled in Jaybird and Lampedusa to help on the planning. Jaybird shook his head.

“Damn, they aren’t asking us for much. We go in and out by chopper, for fucking sure. How good is their intel?”

“Nobody knows. They got their asses kicked at Site A yesterday. There probably is a mole in the top echelons of the military feeding the rebels information.”

“So let’s try Camp B,” Lam said.

“We can’t blast the place with twenties; it would put the hostages in peril,” DeWitt said.

“How close can we land to Camp B?” Murdock asked. “If we get close enough to save our legs, the rebels will know we’re coming.”

“So we go in, land, recon the place, and wait twelve hours before we attack,” Jaybird said. “We catch them off stride, tire them out just waiting, while we sack out.”

“Weapons?” Murdock asked.

“Every goddamn thing we’ve got,” Jaybird said. “Maybe easy on the EAR so we don’t have to carry out the unconscious hostages.”

“So we’ll need three more forty-sixes on standby at Davao to pack out the hostages when we rescue them,” De Witt said. “Do they have them available?”

“Good idea, we’ll check,” Sadler said. “I didn’t see a lot of aircraft at this air base. We’ll ask the colonel.”

“Is there a double canopy of trees here like in Nam where the tops reach up sixty, seventy feet?” Lam asked. “If there is, will we be able to find a chopper LZ anywhere near the camp?”

“Have to find out,” Murdock said. “We’ve got more questions than plans. Let’s go see the colonel and the two locals he’s providing us with. Then do the rest of our prelim plans there.”

At the conference a half hour later they had questions answered. Yes, there were landing areas within five hundred yards of either camp along a river. Yes, lots of double canopy in places, single in others. They had six CH-46’s at Davao. That was all but one that the Philippine Air Force owned. They were ready to go when needed. Each had a door gunner with a mounted machine gun.

“We’ve picked Camp B to attack first,” Murdock told the group. “It’s more remote; they could be less ready for an attack there. Are there trails along the river to the camp?”

“Yes, trails that will be defended,” Philippine Army Master Sergeant Pedro Estrada said. He was about thirty, short and sturdy, and looked competent to Murdock. He had been introduced as one of the two men who would be their local guides and advisors.

“We can deal with that. What type weapons do they have?”

Army First Lieutenant Juan Ejercito, the other local now on the SEALs’ team, responded. “I was on the attack yesterday. They had machine guns and submachine guns. I heard some AK-47’s as well. They are well armed. I was one of four men in my section who didn’t get hit. They ambushed us on a trail. Complete surprise. They have never been that sophisticated before in their tactics.”

“They are getting outside help?” Murdock asked.

“Possible,” the officer said.

Murdock looked at Jaybird. “Speed of the forty-six and how long to travel the sixty miles to the target?”

“Cruises at about a hundred and fifty, so that would be two-point-five miles a minute. Put that into sixty miles and we get exactly twenty-four minutes flying time.”

“When is it dark here, Sergeant?” DeWitt asked.

“Sir, about 1800 this time of year.”

“Can we land and deplane at that site in the dark?” Sadler asked the lieutenant.

“We went in during the day. It might be safer to fly in so we land just before dusk, say at 1745, even 1730. We don’t want to crash on landing.”

“I agree since we don’t know the terrain,” Murdock said.

“Communications?” Lam asked.

The colonel frowned. “We’ll have our regular radio net with the pilot. It’s good, reliable. Distance no problem.”

“We could supply the pilot or his gunner with one of our Motorolas,” Jaybird said. “Then we could contact them for possible exfiltration and the pilot could bring in rescue birds if we free any hostages at this camp.”

“Done,” Murdock said. He looked around. “Anything else? Any questions?”

“You have adequate ammunition?” the colonel asked. “We have NATO rounds in most sizes and forty-millimeter grenades, fraggers, flares.”

“We should be good for this mission,” Sadler said. “Downstream we may need some resupply. I’ll keep our liaison with you up to date.”

“That’s a wrap then, gentlemen,” Murdock said. “We’ll be ready to leave here at 1700. We’d prefer the lieutenant and sergeant to bring their gear and weapons to our quarters soon so we can integrate them. This is a combat situation.”

Back at their quarters, the SEALs worked out weapons assignments, went over final preparations on their gear, and loaded ammo into their vests and pockets.

In the mess, the cooks worked up a steak dinner for the SEALs and their two friends.

“Damn, I feel like a fatted hog ready for slaughter,” Jaybird yelped.

“Stupid, wasn’t no fatted hog, it was a fatted calf, butchered for the Prodigal Son’s return,” Fernandez said.

“Right now I’d settle for a roasted Jaybird,” Mahanani brayed, and they all roared with laughter and finished the meal.

The SEALs were on the tarmac ready to load the chopper at 1700. Murdock had given the bird a quick inspection. It seemed to be in good repair, and the machine gun in the door was up and ready to fire. The Filipino pilot, Captain Pepe Gonzalez, was on hand early and shook hands with Murdock.

“Checked out the bird and she looks solid, Commander,” said Gonzalez. “I’ve flown this one every day for the past month and she’s sound and ready.”

“Have you been over the area where this river goes?” Murdock asked.

“Some of it, not up that high. A real wilderness back in there. No roads. A few trails an off-road motorcycle might cover.”

“We’ll need an LZ as close to the target as possible. You’ve done night landings?”

“Lots of them, and we have a new strobe searchlight I can use to be sure where the ground is. No sweat on that.”

Murdock gave him a Motorola.

“Our person-to-person radio,” Murdock said. “It’s good for about five miles. We’ll use it to call you in when we’re ready to leave or to have you call in the rescue choppers. You can clip the transceiver on your belt and put the earplug in and use a lip mike, or just hold it all in one hand.”

“Try it,” Captain Gonzalez said.

They walked apart a dozen yards and Murdock called the captain. It worked perfectly, and Gonzales called Murdock back.

Then it was time to load. The eighteen men stepped into the side doors of the forty-six and settled down.

Murdock had assigned Lieutenant Ejercito to stay with Bravo Squad, and Sergeant Estrada would be with him and Alpha.

“Call me Pedro,” the short sergeant said. “It’s quicker and I know you’re talking to me.”

“Good, call me Murdock. Out here we don’t have any rate or rank. We’re all fighters. We’re a team. We fight together and we win together or we die together. It’s that tight. I expect you to blend right in. Every SEAL helps every other SEAL. We support, we protect, and we make the enemy pay.”

Pedro grinned as the big bird lifted off. “Good to be with you, Murdock. I’ve chased these bastards for ten years.”

Just after they’d arrived at the base, they’d had a briefing. The Island of Mindanao had for many years been settled mainly by Muslims. First there had been the Moro Islamic Liberation Front fighting for freedom for Mindanao as a separate nation. Later there was a Separatist Islamic Liberation Front that came to terms with the Philippine government and accepted many of the programs from the national groups to help train the people on the big island and lift them out of poverty.

Just when things began to go better for the people on the big island, the Rebel Separatist Islamic Liberation Front mobilized and squeezed away from the traditional group that was cooperating with the federal government, and began attacking and kidnapping and agitating for more local control and eventual freedom. This had spawned the Chinese merchant kidnappings, and now the group was out for the pot of gold, six million dollars in ransom.

Twenty of the twenty-four minutes slanted past quickly, and the crew chief turned on a red light over the rear hatch. “Gentlemen,” he shouted over the roar of the engines and the whine of the blades. “We have four minutes to touchdown. The pilot will be searching for a good LZ, so it could be two or three minutes longer. Suggest you get up, check your gear, and be sure to take everything with you.”

“And thank you for flying Hedgehopping Hazardous Airlines,” Jaybird cracked.

Most of the men were too busy to laugh. Another mission, another step into the unknown.

“Just hope he finds a good LZ that won’t come alive with rifle fire,” Murdock said.

Pedro grinned. “Good man, the captain. I’ve ridden with him before. He’ll set us down at the best spot.”

They could see the ship coming in lower; then it stopped, moving forward, hovered, and settled gently to the ground. The red light turned to green.

“Go, go, go,” Murdock shouted. One squad went out each side door, ran out of the rotor wash, and hit the ground in a defense parameter. Pedro was at Murdock’s elbow.

“We go upstream,” the sergeant said. “So far, so good.” Murdock led off with his squad, Lam out in front by twenty yards in the thick jungle growth. Pedro had run ahead and guided Lam into an animal trail next to the river, and now they moved ahead at a slow walk, testing the air as they went for any enemy activity.

Lam went down after four hundred yards. “Skipper, best to come up here with Pedro. Damn peculiar.”

Murdock and Pedro ran up to where Lam stretched out behind a two-foot-thick log. They looked over the top. Murdock saw a village. It looked totally and completely deserted. One chicken scratched in the moonlight where it streamed through sixty-foot high lauan, or Philippine mahogany trees.

The place had the feel of being recently inhabited. Lam made a dash for the first building, a hut made of native materials woven together. He went in and out and shook his head. Murdock used his NVG and watched the rest of the place. He saw no sign of life. In the middle of the set of twenty huts was a tree that had been stripped of its branches and leaves. Only one strong branch stretched out at right angles to the trunk. Hanging on the branch Murdock saw two bodies.

“Let’s go in,” Murdock said. “Everyone move up, the place looks deserted.”

He and Pedro hurried to the hanging tree. A man and a woman hung there. Their bodies could not have been dead more than a day. Each had a sign nailed into the chest. One read: “I was a spy for the President.” The other said, “I cooperated with the misdirected Moro Liberation Front.”

“Nobody home,” Lam said on the Motorola.

“Everyone up here. Search this place. See if you can find anything that might show where they went.”

Lam vanished into the brush and trees.

After twenty minutes, the SEALs had found nothing of value, nothing to indicate where the inhabitants went, or even if the hostages had been held here. Then Ostercamp saw something gleaming in the dust. He picked it up and frowned.

Murdock looked at it and grinned. “The hostages were here, I’d bet my booty on it. This is a PEO pin. A half-inch-high five-pointed gold star with the black letters. My mother had one and I used to hide it, and then be a hero when I could find it just before she went to the meeting. It’s a Christian-related sorority of some kind. The meaning of the letters is a big secret. Chances are it was dropped by one of the American hostages.”

Lam came back and talked to Murdock, Ejercito, and DeWitt. “I found their trail heading upstream. Looks like four or five off-road motorcycles and a bunch of wheeled carts and a whole bunch of footprints. Lots of bare feet, also a lot of shoe prints. No spike heels, but some low heels on women’s prints, and a number of men’s shoe prints. I’d say the hostages were hoofing it north.”

Murdock tried to call the chopper, but had no response. “Gonzales said he would make ten-mile circles south of our LZ. Bradford, try to contact the chopper every five minutes.” He looked at the two bodies hanging in the moonlight.

“Should we cut them down and bury them?”

Juan shook his head. “No, then their relatives would never find them. Leave them up there. In two or three weeks the relatives will come back and do what they need to do for a Muslim funeral.”

“Time to move,” Murdock said. “Lam, head us back downstream toward that LZ. We’ve got a chopper to catch.”

They were halfway there when Bradford made contact with the bird.

“Big Bird. Our mission is finished. Looking for a ride at the same LZ.”

“Read you loud and clear. I’m five miles from the former LZ. See you there.”

Thirty-two minutes later the forty-six chopper landed back at Davao. Murdock, Estrada, Ejercito, DeWitt, Sadler, and Lam all went into a debriefing.

“Is there a woman’s organization called the PEO here in the Philippines?” Murdock asked the colonel.

The man shook his head. “Never heard of it. I’ll ask our G-2 to check it out. What kind of a group is it?”

“A Protestant woman’s group,” Murdock said. “Since this is a mostly Muslim country, the chances are low it would have chapters here. One of my men found this PEO pin in the deserted village. It’s our only evidence that the hostages were there.”

There was a knock on the door; it opened, an aide came in, and gave the colonel a message. He read it and shook his head.

“It’s an ultimatum from the rebels. They say they have already shot one of the hostages, an American woman. One more will be shot every day until the ransom is delivered to the point that was previously communicated to the Army. Also, they say the presence of United States Navy SEALs in the Philippines is unacceptable and they must be withdrawn at once.”

Murdock scowled. “We’ve only been here twelve hours. How in hell do they know that we’re here?”