Deadly Force

19

Nobody had to give an order. The fraction of a second after the SEALs hit the ground, their weapons were up spitting lead at the car. The barrage of shots shattered the headlights in a second and a half, and the windshield at almost the same time. In the darkness the SEALs leaped to their feet and kept firing as they charged forward.

The driver and anyone inside the car must have been so surprised to see seven armed men coming at them when their headlights first hit them that they didn’t reach for weapons. Or if they they did, they were too late.

In ten seconds the SEALs had charged past the dead in the car and sprinted for the end of the alley. There they checked outside, saw the street clear, and ran across it and down half a block, then straight ahead for two more blocks, before they slowed and stopped in some deep shadows.

“That was a surprise,” Murdock said softly on the net. “Any casualties?” No one spoke. “Okay, you guys, we better be moving. Going to be all sorts of cops in this area in a few minutes. Which way to our magic carpet, Tahabo?”

The man stood there with glazed eyes, his breath ragged, his hands holding the MP-5 like he would never let go of it.

“Tahabo? Snap out of it, Tahabo. We’re in the clear, they didn’t even get a shot off.” Murdock scowled. Even in the faint light of a street lamp half a block away, Murdock could see the man was in shock. Murdock slapped him hard on the cheek. His head jolted to the side and then back.

“Oh, God. Oh, God. Did you see them? They had us dead, all of us dead. Oh, God. What happened?”

Murdock shook him. Tahabo moved his head, then turned toward Murdock. “How did we get out? I remember the lights nailing us in that narrow alley. I thought I was going to die right there.”

“We shot before they did. You did too. We ran past them and out. We made it. You’re not dead, believe me.”

The guide took a deep breath. “My tooth still hurts, so I guess I’m not dead.”

“We need you to take us back to the chopper pad,” Murdock said.

“Oh, yes. Right. Sorry. Yes, I know this area. We came through here. We need to work to the left out of here.”

“You ready to move?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s go.”

Tahabo looked up the block, then the other way, then headed straight south down a street, which soon turned into a trail. They went across two fields, then came to a pair of trees at the edge of a field.

“This is where we got off,” Tahabo said. “See the two trees? Not many in fields out here.”

“Time?” Murdock asked.

“0112, Skipper,” Jaybird said.

“Was he going to stay here or come back?” Lam asked.

“Supposed to stay here unless he saw trouble,” Murdock said. “Now we have no timetable. Can he find this place again?”

“Let me take Tehabo and scout down toward the other target,” Lam said. “If we find Bravo, we come right back here. Then we’ll try a couple of flares to attract our flyboy’s attention.”

“Go,” Murdock said.

The rest of the SEALs flaked out in the grass. Some of them pulled magazines from their weapons and put in fresh ones, then charged a round into the chamber to be ready.

“Take it easy,” Murdock said. “We may be here a while.”

It was just over an hour before Lam gave a bobwhite call and came in leading Bravo. They carried one man. Murdock ran to meet them, and took over carrying Frank Victor.

“He got cut up pretty bad, Skipper,” Mahanani said. “They were waiting for us outside, caught us setting up. We’ve got three wounded. The other two not so bad.”

“How is Victor?”

“He took a round in his chest and one in his neck. The neck shot was lucky, went between the carotid and the jugular and missed his spine. Bled like a stuck shoat. Got it stopped. Worried about his chest. He can’t walk. Might be bleeding inside.”

They eased Victor off at the assembly point and Mahanani worked on him again.

“Jaybird, one red flare in the air, now,” Murdock said.

Gardner came up with his arm in a sling. “Bastards caught us setting up,” Gardner said. “We beat them back, then burned down their fucking building. We must have nailed about ten of the blue shirts. Carrying Victor slowed us down.”

“How’s the arm?” Murdock asked.

“Not bad. Mahanani thought the bone might be broken. Sling and splint just precautions.”

“You did good, Gardner. You brought back your squad and you burned down your target. Now if that fucking chopper would get here…”

When the red flare burst high overhead, the SEALs went motionless. It drifted in a gentle breeze away from town. When its twenty long seconds were over, it sputtered and the sky went dark again.

Murdock turned to Lam. “Hear anything?”

The scout with the best ears in the platoon shook his head.

“If he saw it we should get some sound by now. Wait five minutes, Jaybird, then one more red flare.”

Murdock waited. He turned, but couldn’t see Bradford. He used the radio. “Bradford, you have that SATCOM?”

“Aye, sir. Strapped on my back like a second damn skin.”

“Good. If that chopper doesn’t show up, we’ll have to try to contact Stroh. I told him to keep his set on receive while we’re out on a mission just in case.”

The second red flare jolted into the air, burst, and floated slowly toward the ground on its small parachute.

It drifted faster this time, and was halfway down when Lam used his Motorola. “Yes, Cap, I’ve got some sound. A chopper for damned sure, coming from the west. What’s it doing out there?”

“You sure, Lam?”

“I’d bet my last sputnik on it.”

“Sputnik isn’t money,” Fernandez said.

“So it won’t cost me much. He’s headed this way. You want a ground flare, Skipper?”

“Wait until he’s closer. Any way to ID him?”

“Not a one, other than he should be the only helicopter in the whole nation right now.”

They waited. Soon they all could hear the whup-whup-whup of the rotor blades as the craft moved toward them.

“Light sticks,” Murdock said. The SEALs took out the plastic tubes with chemicals in them, broke the seals inside, and the mixed chemicals gave off a pink or green light. They held the cool sticks high over their heads.

“He’s turning our way, not chasing the flare,” Lam said.

Two minutes later the chopper slanted over the light sticks, did a fast turn, and set down in the open field thirty yards from the troops.

Gardner carried Victor on his back. The SEALs stepped on board and made room to lay Victor on the floor. Mahanani shook his head when Murdock looked at him.

“Not the best, Skipper. He’s unconscious. Has lost a lot of blood. He needs a doctor and a hospital.”

Murdock went forward and talked with the pilot.

“Halstrom, how far to your destroyer?”

“From here about two-fifteen.”

“You have a doctor on board?”

“Yes, sir. Three of them, and a small operating room.”

“How close is the carrier?”

“She’s about ten miles to sea from us.”

“You have juice enough to reach the carrier?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s get off here and head directly for the carrier. Tell them we’re bringing in a wounded man, shot in the chest and the neck. He’s unconscious, breathing is ragged. Pulse is slow and weak. Let’s move, Lieutenant.”

When they were in the air, the copilot called the carrier and gave his report the way Murdock had told him. The response came on earphones, and he turned to Murdock.

“We have clearance for a direct flight. Our time to the carrier deck is eighty-eight minutes. We can cut that some, but we’re pretty heavily loaded. Tell the men to hang on, we’re moving up to four thousand.”

Murdock told the men where they were going.

“Victor woke up for a minute, said it hurt like hell, then passed out again,” the medic said. “His pulse is a little stronger now and his breathing is better. An hour and a half. Damn. Wish we could do better. He’s got a chance of making it.”

Murdock went back to the pilots. The copilot turned to him. “Need to tell you why we weren’t there when you got back. We stayed on the ground for a half hour. Then a jeep or something with a searchlight came looking for us. We lifted off and led him off to the west, where we quickly lost him. Then we worked back a couple of miles at a time watching for a flare. We figured you had some. How many did you fire?”

“Two. You must have been close enough to see the second one. Glad you got here. Can you go to max cruise and still have enough fuel to get to the carrier?”

Halstrom nodded. “We’re on forty-nine percent now. We can go at least halfway on max. That should cut our time down by ten minutes.”

“Do it. That ten minutes could save my man’s life.”

They landed on the carrier after a flight of seventy-two minutes. A dozen men waited with a gurney, and they ran to the chopper before the blades stopped spinning. SEALs dropped out of the craft to make way for the medics. They lifted Victor gently onto the gurney, and a doctor began examining him as they rolled toward some doors. A commander poked his head in the side door of the chopper. “SEALs?”

“Yes, sir,” Murdock said. “Can you bunk these men down for the night? Then we’d like to get this bird refueled and ready to take off about 0900. I’d like to go to the hospital and be with my man.”

The officer pointed at a sailor nearby. “Take the commander to the hospital.”

They caught up with the gurney at an elevator, and Murdock saw the doctor taking Victor’s vitals as they went into the lift.

Two hours and three cups of coffee later, Murdock still waited in a small compartment off the operating rooms. He stood and paced the area again, and then looked up as a man in scrubs and a mask came out of the OR.

“Commander?”

“Yes, how is my boy?”

“He’s in pretty bad shape, but he’s past the critical stage and he’s going to make it, unless something we can’t see now develops. The round he took in the chest shattered on a bone and did all sorts of damage. One small fragment went into his heart. We retrieved that with no real damage. His lungs caught most of it. But we’re satisfied with what we did in there. The round to his throat was the easiest. It went through the fleshy part of the neck, missing the vital veins and arteries and his spinal column. We’ll need to keep him here for at least two weeks. You from San Diego?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then when he’s ready to travel, we’ll send him by air to Balboa Hospital.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Entirely welcome.” He paused. “You’re in Sierra Bijimi?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We don’t get many bullet wounds these days. We patched up two of your other men as well. A JG Gardner with a shot arm and an Omar Rafii. He had a grenade fragment in his leg. Dug it out and he’s on light duty for a week. Now, you need a bunk. I’ll have one of the men find you some quarters for the night.”

“One more thing, Doctor. I need to talk to your communications people. How do I do that?”

The doctor led him to a phone and dialed.

“Yes, sir, Communications,” came over the phone.

“This is Lieutenant Commander Murdock. Do you have SATCOM frequencies?”

“Sir, that would be the portable SATCOM units?”

“Yes. Can you send and receive to them?”

“If we had the right frequencies.”

Murdock gave him the numbers. “I just arrived on board on a medical emergency for one of my men. I need to report in to my CIA control on Sierra Bijimi where we are. Use that frequency and call for Don Stroh. Tell him we’re on board, all of us, and we have one serious wounded but he’s going to make it.”

“Sir, I should have some authorization.”

“Sailor, we’re the reason your whole damn task force came all the way down here. I’m sure if you want to wake up the captain, he can verify that I’m authorized to use the SATCOM frequencies. Why don’t you just go ahead and try to contact Stroh? I’ll stay on this phone while you try.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll try that. If I get burned I’m going to call on you for some backup.”

“I’ll be there, Sailor. Give Don Stroh a call.”

Murdock waited. He checked his watch. It took almost five minutes. Then the sailor was back on the line.

“Yes, sir, I made contact and gave him your message. He said he can get to sleep now. He said he’ll see you tomorrow, or later today. He was a little sleepy, sir.”

“Good. I’ll pass along a commendation to your boss. Right now I’m going to try to find a bunk.”

“Good night, sir.”

By that time it was 0528, and Murdock took an offered empty hospital room and dove onto the bed. He didn’t even take his boots off.

A nurse awoke him at 0900, and he growled at her.

“Commander, did you know that you’re officially lost? Nobody on board knew where you were. Lieutenant Gardner finally tracked you down. He says he’s scheduled a flight for 1300 and figures you and the men need another three hours of sleep. Shall I get you up at 1200?”

Murdock saw someone had spread a blanket over him. He tried to get his eyes open. They refused.

“Yes, ma’am, 1200 will be fine.” He was asleep again before she shut the door.

Murdock woke up by himself at 1130. Washed up, combed his hair, and had a quick breakfast at the dirty shirt mess. Then he tried to find his men. He didn’t even know who to ask. He shrugged and called the ship’s captain. He got a full commander, who laughed at Murdock’s question.

“You want to know where your fourteen SEALs and two Sierra Bijimi nationals are?”

“Yes, sir. We came in about 0300 and they were bunked down somewhere.”

“Commander, give me five minutes and I’ll find them. Call me back.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Murdock hung up and had another cup of coffee. He called back after four minutes by his countdown watch.

“Commander, we didn’t lose them after all. They were tucked into some transient bunks. Right now they are all on the flight deck waiting for you for their 1300 flight time in a Seahawk.”

“Thanks, sir, I appreciate it.” He went into the corridor, nailed the first enlisted man he saw, and had him act as a guide to take him to the flight deck. There a white shirt took him in tow and walked him down the long deck to the chopper operations center, where he found Third Platoon chomping away on box lunches.

“Saved you one,” Senior Chief Sadler said. “Did you know that you’ve been lost?”