Death Blow

14

The black-and-blue patrol boat raced toward them downstream at what Murdock figured was twenty knots. The closer it came the more he could see. It had a big machine gun mounted on the bow, Probably a .50 caliber. It had a high cabin and a walk around the front deck. He could see men on it, one ready on the MG, two more in the aft area. He couldn’t tell if they had rifles or not. The craft had to be forty, maybe forty-five feet. Normally a boat like that could have a crew of four and carry up to ten troops.

Now the boat was fifty yards off their island coming toward the north end. Suddenly the craft throttled down, did a quick turn to the left, then a small circle and used just enough power to hold its position near the point of land of the SEALs hide-away island.

The boat revved up the engine then and did a slow look around as it eased downstream twenty feet from the shore. When it came opposite the highest area, down from where the SEALs hid, the .50 caliber opened up and the gunner slammed a hundred rounds into the built-up section.

Murdock gritted his teeth. For sure when they came up the other side of the island they would do the same thing to the brush patch. He had to decide to take out the craft before that, or lose half, maybe all of his men. When to do it? Should they lift out of their holes, get to the back side of the high ground and take the boat before it got to their brushy hidehole position?

“Looks like trouble,” Will Dobler said from his hole. “They use that fifty and we’re dead ducks sitting here.”

“Damn straight, Chief.”

The patrol boat worked farther down the quarter-mile island and at last it was out of sight of the SEALs. Murdock sat up.

“Listen, you guys. We’re ducks in a row here. Come out of your holes and we move to the back side of that high ground. As soon as he gets the boat around the bend down there. When we’re shielded we move over there and take him out when he comes up on this side of the island. No other way.”

“Hold it right here for about five,” Dobler said.

They waited for the five minutes, then Murdock stood and the SEALs came to life. “Bradford, give the chief a hand here. He needs a third leg.”

“That’s what his wife keeps telling him,” somebody cracked, and Dobler grinned through the pain in his right leg.

“Jaybird, look over his wound as soon as we’re behind that rise,” Murdock said. “Might need a new bandage.”

They moved quietly, by twos, dashing across the fifty yards to the rise in the land, keeping out of sight of the patrol boat.

Dobler and Bradford came in last. The SEALs spread out five yards apart along the reverse slope of the rise so they could just see over the top. Weapons were ready.

“How are we on ammo for the twenties?” Murdock asked. The word went down the line. The figures came back and it came out to about eight rounds per man. That was for each of the five guns.

“Use the rounds carefully,” Murdock said. “Everyone fire what weapon you have. Range shouldn’t be a problem.”

“We knocking it out or just disabling it so it floats downstream?” Ken Ching asked.

“Knock it out,” Murdock said. “She might have ten troops in there. Don’t want to share our island with them.”

They waited.

Five minutes more and they heard more fire from the fifty downstream. Then the sound moved closer.

“I’ve got him in my sights,” Tran Khai said. He was the last man in the row downstream.

“Hold fire until he gets to the middle of our line,” Murdock said. “If he shoots at this rise like he did last time, open fire at once.”

Again they waited.

Soon they all could see the boat. It dodged closer to shore, and the fifty fired again away from the SEALs, then it was at the middle of the line.

“Let’s do it,” Murdock said. He sighted in on the little wheelhouse, and fired.

The 20mm impact-fused round exploded just below the console where the driver stood. It blew the man and his steering gear out of the boat.

In rapid succession five more rounds hit the boat. One caught the machine gunner in the chest and punched him halfway over the side of the ship. The rest of the small arms chattered, drilling holes all over the boat, jolting one man over the side.

“Cease fire,” Murdock said. The gunners held fire then and watched. The craft’s engine sputtered but kept running. “One more round each on the twenties. All the others, ten seconds firing,” Murdock said and the weapons spoke again. This time two 20mm rounds hit at the water line, and blew large holes in the fiberglass hull. The engine cut off. They saw two men dive overboard and be swept downstream with the current.

The boat gave in to the current and drifted away. She took on water fast and listed to that side, then began to sink. One more man swam away from the boat, but by then it was well into the current. The man wouldn’t be able to get to their island. Another fifty feet and the small patrol craft slid under the water. They saw two men working downstream, not wanting to tangle with whoever had sunk their boat.

“No troops on board,” Murdock said. “Good. They don’t know we’re here yet.”

“Nobody knows were here,” Dobler said. He closed his eyes and shuddered.

“Jaybird, get over here with two morphine for Dobler.”

Jaybird ran over and dug out the ampoules and gave the senior chief the shots.

“Hey, Chief, that’s going to make you feel better. That damn chopper is coming any minute now and we’ll get you some real medics.”

“Yeah, sure, Jaybird. About the same time elephants fly.”

Jaybird looked at Murdock. There wasn’t anything either of them could say.

“Back to our hide holes,” Murdock said. “We may have some more aircraft over here.”

It took them fifteen minutes to get back to their camouflage area with the small brush. Murdock checked his watch. It was 1400. Where the hell was that chopper?

They got into their camouflage spots but didn’t cover up. They would have warning enough if they needed to.

Lam stood up. “I hear a chopper. Faint.” He scowled than shook his head. “Shit, it faded out. Had one for a while. Not even sure what direction it was.”

They waited.

Half of them went to sleep beside their holes. The rest probably thought about food and water, Murdock figured. He stood and scanned the skies to the south. Not a damn thing.

“Got it again, damn right,” Lam shouted. “Stronger now and getting stronger, coming from the damn west, not the south.”

“Holes, everyone,” Murdock bellowed. “We don’t know who this could be. Cover up. Wake up the sleepers. Let’s move, people.”

They slid into holes and covered up with the leaves and dirt. Murdock sat up and watched west.

“Still coming, Lam?”

“Yeah and getting louder. You should be able to hear it.”

Then, Murdock could. It was a chopper. But he had no idea if was theirs or ours.

“Yeah, I hear it,” Bradley said. Then the others came on with shouts.

“Hold it, men. It could be another Chicom.”

“Coming from the west?” Franklin asked.

They waited.

Five minutes later Lam saw a smudge on the flat horizon to the west. “Oh, yeah, he’s coming this way. He’ll go half a click to the south of us.”

A few moments more and Jaybird cheered. “It’s a damn forty-six, I’ve heard that sound before. Got to be a forty-six.”

Lam nodded. “Sounds like a forty-six, Cap. We’ll know shortly. Yeah, he’s swinging north. Damn, looks like he’s coming dead at this island.”

“Hey castaway little buddies, you looking to the sky for some help?” the sound came from Jaybird’s Motorola.

“Oh, yeah are we ever? Mahanani, is that your bones?”

“Sure as sour cream curdles, pardner. How would you like a short lift in some first-class accommodations?”

“Oh, yeah, bring that lovely, beautiful, amazing forty-loving-six right into papa.”

Soon it was close enough that they could see the white star and bars on the fuselage and the “U.S. NAVY” print on the side.

Then the chopper sat down on a flat stretch fifty yards upstream from them and the big rotors idled.

“Move it,” Murdock bellowed. “Get in that bird. Dobler, on me. Take it all with you. We don’t want the Chicom to know we were here.”

“What about that twenty-mm brass up on the hill?” Fernandez asked.

Murdock scowled. “Fuck it, leave it there. Let’s get in that lovely little chopper.”

Murdock and Dobler were the last ones in. Mahanani had the chopper’s first aid kit opened and put Dobler on the floor of the bird and checked his leg.

“Thought I told you to stay off this leg and get bedrest and look at pretty nurses with big boobs, Chief. What the hell happened?”

“Shit happened, Doc. It always the fuck does. Got any joy juice? I could use some.”

Before the conversation was over the doors slammed and the bird took off in a blast of dry sand.

Murdock talked with the pilot.

“Damn glad we found you, Commander. Those two guys of yours flagged us down on our eighth or ninth trip up one of these wide fucking channels. Must be twenty of them. We spotted your guys’ flares and then I thought they would wave their arms off.”

“Good men. Where we going?”

“Orders say to take you directly to Calcutta for medical. Then you’ll pick up orders there. I saw a COD hanging around the field, maybe it’s for you.”

“Could be,” Murdock said. “You have anything to eat? My boys haven’t had a sugar tit to chew on for going on twenty-four.”

“Nothing but some emergency MREs.”

“Sounds like a banquet. Your crew chief can get them?”

The SEALs gratefully gobbled up the MREs long before they sighted Calcutta. Then the CH-46 came in and landed at the military airfield near the big town. The SEALs were taken to a barracks and told chow would be served in half an hour. Murdock and Dobler headed for the base hospital.

The doctors fussed over Dobler for a half hour. None of them had seen a shrapnel wound like that one before. They cleaned it, stitched it up and bound it firmly.

“Your man should stay off that leg for a week,” the doctor said. “I suspect you’ll be traveling. If you do, have your medic watch the leg closely. Should heal up with no problems. We just don’t want the stitches to break open and it get infected.”

They released Dobler, who had a wheelchair ride to an ambulance, which took him and Murdock to the barracks.

The Indian Air Force had some orders for Murdock from the U.S. Navy. The first envelope held a radio message from Don Stroh:

Congratulations on the Bangladesh Embassy rescue. All the nationals from there are safe in Calcutta. Hear you were picked up an hour ago by a chopper in the Ganges Delta area. A wet place. You’ll get orders to hang out with the Indians there for a day or two. The brass here and in Washington aren’t sure what to have you do next. Evidently, there is a whole pot-full of projects needing your special touch. Whatever it is, it will be interesting. Yes, I’m still going through channels, Navy channels, that is. So take the day off, go fishing, play pocket pool, have fun. The next job probably will be a bit more complicated than this one. But I’m still going through channels.

Murdock read it, then read it to the rest of the men who were back from the special chow.

“Sounds like that wimp Stroh is cooking up a good one,” Jefferson said.

Murdock opened the second envelope. It had a computer printout Navy logo on the top of the page.

Lieutenant Commander Murdock:

Well done on the embassy run. Glad you made it back with only one wounded. You are to remain in place for up to two days. New orders coming.

In the Bangladesh invasion, China and Pakistan overflew parts of India north of Bangladesh. India is furious. They have threatened to shoot down any more aircraft from Pakistan or China that try to fly over the area. India’s Air Force has the planes to match the Chinese MiGs. Be aware of this critical situation.

Orders will follow in this form through e-mail since it’s our only military hard copy equipment available to deal at these distances.

It was signed by Captain Irving Robertson II, captain of the Stennis, CVN 74.

Murdock read the orders to the men.

“What the hell does that mean?” Jefferson asked.

“Means we have all day tomorrow to clean our weapons and wash our clothes,” Ostercamp said.

The same day the SEALs went into Bangladesh to bring out the embassy people, the Chinese and Pakistani peppered the sky over the corridor of India between Bangladesh and China with more than fifty transport planes with paratroopers. Fighter-bombers took out the main military airport near Dhaka and the civilian airport, blasting them into junk but not damaging the runways.

It took the jumpers just six hours to secure the military airfield, then the planes came in with resupply, food, and essentials to an army in the field. It went just the way the Chinese had planned it. By nightfall of the first day, more than half of Bangladesh was in control of the paratroopers.

The surprise raid on the military air field wiped out two squadrons of MiG-29s of the Bangladesh Air Force and three transports and six Chinese-made P-5s and F-6s. The Bangladesh Air Force had been destroyed except for one squadron of the older MiG-19s. The Chinese didn’t know where that squadron was home based.

Just before the attack, the king of Bangladesh and all the royal family had flown in their private jet to Calcutta to be out of danger. Most of the city facilities had been captured by the end of the day. The police were routed, the small military garrison nearby nearly wiped out by the high-powered Chinese and Pakistani assaults. A dozen helicopters flew in the first afternoon, then big transports with armored personnel carriers arrived.

On the second day, Chinese fighters were refueled and armed at the Dhaka military air base and roamed the countryside searching out the Bangladesh-type 54/55 tanks and a few Chinese-made type 59 tanks. Six were blown up the first morning. By noon of the second day, the war in Bangladesh for all practical purposes was over.

The SEALs ate and slept and watched reports of the war on the TV sets. The second day they were there, Murdock received permission from the base to take the men on a conditioning run.

“How far?” the military policeman asked.

“Ten miles.”

The corporal swallowed hard. “Well, sir, you can go down the outer boundary of the air base, follow it around. That should cover about eight miles.”

“Good,” Murdock said. “We’ll do it twice.”

After they got back, showered, and dressed in fresh cammies the Indian Air Force provided them, a messenger came with an envelope for Murdock.

He opened it, read it, and grinned. “Hey, guys, gather round, we’ve got news.” He read the letter.

Murdock and SEALs, Third Platoon, SEAL Team Seven. Calcutta, India.

Hey, troops, your old buddy Don Stroh giving you some advance warning. Tomorrow morning you’ll get official through-channels orders to move back to the good old flattop Stennis, which is about where you left her in the Gulf of Thailand. They have it worked out how you’ll get there.

Then comes the fun part. Did I say Hong Kong? I certainly did not. I can’t say anything until you get the official through-channels orders. So. Have a good night’s sleep. Oh, I’m on the carrier, so when you guys get in, the beer’s on me.

“Hong Kong? that’s part of China now,” DeWitt brayed. “The British turned it over three or four years ago. Stroh suggesting that we’re going into Hong Kong? He must be nuts.”

“Probably, but it does give us something to think about,” Murdock said. “At least we won’t have to do a conditioning run tomorrow.”

“Hong Kong?” De Witt said. “Must be fifty thousand Chinese troops around that place. This has to be some fucked up Navy mistake. Just got to be.”