Frontal Assault

8

Third Platoon, SEAL Team Seven, landed at the military-controlled airport at Muscat, Oman, just before dawn. The sixteen men off-loaded in bright floodlights and were ushered between military guards to two army trucks and transported to the sultan’s palace, a short way out of the city.

Each man carried double ammo, half of it in a small bag that would be stashed in the new quarters. The Oman military looked efficient enough to Murdock, but he would wait and see how good their security was around the palace grounds. He didn’t expect much.

The trucks drove into a walled compound. It looked to be about a thousand yards square. Lots of places for holes and weak spots. Murdock, Ed Dewitt, Jaybird, and Dobler were all ushered into a plain room at the outer fringe of buildings where an army colonel sat. They all came to attention, and he nodded.

“Gentlemen, I’m Colonel Khalof, director of the sultan’s personal safety and security. I requested your aid. We are pleased that you are here. We are a small country with many enemies. Lately, we have had a number of intrusions and some shooting. We hope you will be able to assist us in our security and to train our people in the best methods of defeating any who try to attack this small fortress. We have a two hundred — man guard force. Do you have any questions?”

“Sir. I’m Lieutenant Commander Blake Murdock, in charge of this platoon. Is it my understanding that we will have some authority to move your men, to suggest different operations, and to assist in the tightening of your security?”

“Commander, you have total authority. One of my officers will be with you to insure that my men comply with your orders. He will also give you a tour of our security and our defensive forces. His name is Major Jabrin.”

At the mention of the name, a rather stocky man with a full but closely trimmed beard stood and saluted. He had stripes on his shoulder boards and turned to Murdock.

“My English not good, but will make understand.”

“Your English is much better than my Arabic. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Twenty minutes later, the four men and Jabrin toured the wall surrounding the compound. It was eight to ten feet high, had intrusion alarms on top along with razor wire. Murdock stopped the car where a ravine ran under the wall. It was dry now, but he knew it would surge with runoff water whenever a downpour occurred. A fence of loosely connected barbed wire screened the four-foot ditch under the wall.

“This one will need fixing,” Murdock said. “Some solid wooden gates that can be opened from the inside when a big rain is expected.”

The major made a note on a pad he carried.

By the time the inspection tour was over, Murdock and his crew had found ten places where work needed to be done and security increased. It was nearly dark when Murdock and Senior Chief Dobler talked to the platoon. The men had settled down in a dormitory room with twenty beds and a TV set with a VCR and a rack of more than fifty Hollywood-produced movies.

“We get our feet wet tonight on this security situation,” Murdock said. “There are three roving patrols in humvees. We’ll have two SEALs in each rig. We’ll also put two men at each of the five worst security risks we saw today. We’ll begin the watches at twenty-two hundred and run until morning. Any questions?”

“We have weapons free in case of trouble?” Jaybird asked.

“We were given carte blanche in this matter. If you think you should fire, then shoot up a storm. Just make sure it’s not some frightened kid looking for a handout.”

The SEALs ate two meals with the other troops. Jaybird said the food was fair.

“Don’t know what the hell it was, but it wasn’t camel nuts. It was good. Not that I’d want to live here forever just for the food.”

They watched part of the movie Battle of the Bulge, and then it was time to go to work. Murdock stationed the men where he wanted them, then he, DeWitt, and Senior Chief Dobler each took one of the roving patrols with an extra SEAL along.

Murdock and Jaybird settled into the humvee. The driver spoke no English. The other Oman soldier knew only a few words of English. Murdock and Jaybird knew no Arabic. It would be an interesting night.

Murdock checked in by Motorola with his men every hour. By midnight there had been no problems. DeWitt’s roving patrol had found two small boys trying to slip in the main gate. They had been caught by the gate guards, given a sound lecture, and sent running back the way they had come.

“They try to steal something,” one of the guards told DeWitt. “If they can’t steal anything, they hope for a gift of food when they are caught.”

The gentle motion of the humvee as it rolled slowly around the compound’s outer road lulled Murdock to sleep. Jaybird shook his shoulder when time came for the radio check.

“Dozed off there a little, Commander,” Jaybird said. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody you went to sleep on guard duty. As I remember, that used to be a hanging offense.”

“Not true,” Murdock said. “It was a simple and immediate firing squad. None of this uniform code of military justice jazz.” He shook his head. “This is tough duty. I’m not used to it.”

The radio net check went without incident.

Just after 0320, Murdock heard gunfire. He got on the net for a report. It came almost at once.

“Skipper. Bradford. We took five rounds of rifle fire here at the ravine under the wall. We returned fire at their flashes but don’t know if we connected. No more firing. The bad guys seem to have vanished.”

“Anything on your NVGs?” Murdock asked.

“Not a thing out there on the night visions, Skipper. We’ll keep a sharp lookout for the next couple of hours. My best bet is they took off like a herd of turtles.”

“Roger, Bradford. Stay tuned.”

The rest of the night was quiet. When the SEALs came back at dawn, they found Lam and Adams waiting for them. Murdock frowned.

“You two were supposed to get a good night’s sleep and heal up for when we need you,” Murdock said.

Adams snorted. “Hail, Skip, I can shoot just as good now as always. Want me to do some push-ups for you? Damn arm hardly hurts at all anymore.”

“Let it heal up, Adams. I catch you doing push-ups, I’ll ship your skinny ass back to the ship and slap you in a hospital bed.”

Adams grinned. “Aye, aye, Commander. Had to give it a try.”

Lam just waved. “Checked out you guys on the Motorola,” he said. Looks like you didn’t need me after all. I was ready to choggie out there to the hot spot.”

Holt walked up to Murdock then, holding out the handset to the SATCOM radio.

“The king of the CIA wants a word,” Holt said.

Murdock took the handset. “Yeah, Stroh, what’s happening?”

“Too much. We just had a report that two more of the small countries around the area are having trouble. There’s a serious challenge to the government in Lebanon. Two regiments of the army have attacked the government offices, and there is heavy fighting. A colonel has declared martial law in Beruit and claims victory. He’s premature. Most experts there say that the loyal Lebanon army and air force will defeat this upstart colonel, but it will be close.”

“You expect there could be trouble here?” Murdock asked.

“Damn right. It looks like every country in and around the Persian Gulf except Iraq and Iran is either being attacked or is having internal problems. It doesn’t seem to be a random situation, according to our Middle East experts in Virginia.”

“So, I’ll warn the authorities here, hope for the best, and be ready for the worst. Any idea how long we are to stay here?”

“Depends on what happens, if and when somebody attacks. Just hang loose.”

“Easy for you to say with three squares a day and a good bed to sleep in. We’ll try. Out.”

Murdock went to find Colonel Khalof. He was in his guarded office. The SEAL commander wondered if the sultan had such good protection. Murdock told the colonel about his talk with Stroh.

“Yes, we have been hearing. It is bad all over. Somebody is rattling everything. At least our army is loyal. There is no chance for a coup here.”

Murdock rubbed his jaw. “Colonel, there’s an open space to the west of the palace. I wonder if it would be possible to pull in a battalion of infantry for some maneuvers.”

“I don’t think that our troops need…” He stopped. “Ah, yes, I see. Have them on hand in case anything happens. Good idea, Commander. I’ll talk with my general. I’m sure that he’ll see the value of a small maneuver program at this time.”

Murdock left, feeling a little better. Most of the SEALs slept the rest of the day. They would go back on guard duty that night at 2100, shortly after dark. They would be ready.

This time, Murdock left Jaybird in the roving patrol and he took the most vulnerable location around the perimeter, the eight-foot stone wall at the back of the grounds. He had also asked the colonel to double the interior guards, especially those around the walls. It was done.

Murdock sat with Harry “Horse” Ronson and his H & K machine gun at a lookout port in the foot-thick stone wall. The slot was three inches high and a foot wide and would barely accommodate the NVGs. Murdock scanned the two hundred yards of cleared area in front of the wall.

Nothing moved.

He gave the goggles to Ronson, who took his turn at the view port.

Slightly after midnight, they surveyed the area again. Ronson grunted.

“Take a look, Skip. We got company.”

Murdock took the NVGs and checked. He saw an infantry squad of uniformed soldiers moving forward slowly, then dropping to the ground. He hit the Motorola.

“Back wall, we have invaders working forward. Anyone else see them? Fire at will.”

A trigger pull later, Ronson laid down a stream of five rounds across the first squad he saw. He could fire through the slot. He checked, then fired a nine-round burst. Murdock checked out another port. Half the men in the lead squad were down. Another squad rushed forward. They were still a hundred yards from the wall.

Murdock heard firing from both sides of his position then. The attacking infantry had no protection, only the semi darkness of a moonlit night.

“Let’s use some mike forties,” Murdock said. He watched through the port, ducked when a scattering of fire slammed into the rock wall, then looked again. Four of the 40mm rounds landed near the moving infantrymen. More men screamed and went down. A dozen kept running forward.

The machine gun chopped into them again, wounding two, then a 40mm WP hit in the middle of the group, spraying its white, superhot burning phosphorus over the troops. Six more went down, screaming at the pain of the instant burns that kept right on burning through cloth, skin, muscle, and bone. The WP was impossible to put out. It had to burn itself up.

Murdock saw the attack slacken, then stop. “More forty mikes,” he said. “Let’s push them back where they came from.”

Six rounds of HE 40mm slammed into the area, knocking down four more of the troops and sending those who could move charging to the rear.

“Let’s hold fire,” Murdock said on the radio. Only then did he realize that none of the sultan’s troops inside the wall had been firing. Unbelievable. Why not? He’d find out as soon as he could locate Major Jabrin. Where was he? Murdock had seen him earlier. He had no communications to use to contact the colonel. He tried the radio, but none of his men had seen Major Jabrin in his own humvee.

Jaybird came on the net. “Skipper. I parked the humvee at the gully under the wall. We got in a few rounds supporting you up there. But now, it’s too fucking quiet. Where did they go? There must be more of them. Why just one try? Got to be coming back again. My guess is they’ll pull back, then hit the hole under the wall.”

“We’ll wait them out and see,” Murdock said. “Might put up a white flare out there just to see what’s going on. We’ll do it from here. Keep watch.”

Murdock had Ching fire a flare, and they watched the front. Some of the wounded who had been moving stopped. Other attackers dropped to the ground and played dead.

“Hold fire,” Murdock said. “Just checking them out.”

Guns Franklin came on the net. “Skipper, these locals didn’t fire at the attackers. I tried to get them to, but they said no. After it was over, I asked them why. They said nobody ordered them to fire.”

Murdock remembered that Franklin could speak Arabic. “Franklin, I’m going to ask the colonel the same thing. Let’s keep watch.”

It was more than a half hour later when Murdock heard the engine sounds beyond the wall. They put a white flare out front and saw the vehicle, an older half-track that once was known as a personnel carrier. It had a 50-caliber machine gun mounted on top, round tires in front, and tracks holding up the back half of the rig.

“Let’s take him,” Murdock said on the net and began firing his subgun with the suppressor off for better range. In the glare of the flare, the rig rolled ahead fifty yards and stopped. As the flare faded, Murdock could see men come out from behind the rig. They held something he couldn’t identify.

A second later he knew. Two RPGs blasted into action and slanted toward the wall. One hit the wall near Murdock and didn’t dent it. The second exploded on the barbed wire fence under the wall near Jaybird.

“Machine guns, work that rig’s front tires,” Murdock said on the net. “You guys with forty mikes, let’s stop him. We need a damn close near miss or a direct hit.”

Murdock tried for the driver. The windshield was not protected, and he soon had it shot into a thousand granules of glass. The rig kept rolling forward at eight or ten miles an hour.

Ronson blasted the front tires, flattening both, but the rig kept coming, now at half the speed. The forty-mike grenades dropped in closer, but none had a killing effect.

Then Murdock saw a fiery trail of an RPG that lanced through the air from this side of the wall. It hit the slow-moving vehicle right through the blown-out windshield. The explosion shattered the night and lit up the landscape for a hundred yards. Murdock’s gunners and snipers picked off a dozen men in the light while the half-track burned.

“Who had the RPG?” Murdock asked on the Motorola.

A laugh came first, then Jaybird’s voice cut in. “Dang me if I didn’t hit a bull’s-eye. The bastard locals wouldn’t fire, so I ripped this RPG out of the hands one of them and nailed the sucker. You guys owe me free beer for a month.”

“You’re on,” Murdock said. “How is the barbed wire under that wall?”

“Gone, blown to hell. A wide-open invite inside. Be a damn nice spot for a couple of claymores. We bring any?”

“Should have two somewhere,” Murdock said. “Who has the claymores?”

Ching had one, Quinley the other. “Get them over to that hole in the fence; you’ve all seen it,” Murdock said. “Move it now.”

Every fifteen minutes for the next hour, Murdock had one of his men fire a white flare over the suspected attack area where the troops had come before. He brought the other machine gun over and had Bradford bring around the 50-caliber sniping rifle. Now Murdock felt more ready.

It was nearly 0400 before the attack came. Six RPGs blasted into the wall, and two went over it. Machine guns from the darkness raked the wall and the firing ports. When the MGs stopped, Murdock fired two white flares. The attackers were running toward them. Everyone on the SEALs’ side of the wall began to fire. The machine guns cut chunks out of the hundred men coming at them. HE 40mm rounds jolted into the running mass and chopped down another dozen.

But for the eight guns on that side, there were too many of them. Twenty of the uniformed men charged straight at the hole under the fence. The first one dove under where the barbed wire had been and triggered the trip wire. Three hundred .38-caliber-sized ball bearings exploded out of the claymore, all aimed directly away from the wall and into the path of the shouting soldiers. Eighteen of them fell, mortally wounded.

All along that stretch of the wall, enemy soldiers made it to the wall. Some tried to climb over. Murdock and his men used up their hand grenade supply when the enemies were close to the wall.

Murdock picked off one man who tried to lever over the top of the wall through the razor wire. He took two rounds and fell outside.

“We’ve got two over the wall here,” Jaybird called in the net. “Who’s got them?”

“One down and out,” Quinley said.

“I’ve got the other one,” Ostercamp called. “Hey, he’s just a kid, no more than fifteen.”

“Save the next one for questioning,” Murdock said.

“Mine is still alive but hurting,” Ostercamp said. “I’ll save him.”

Four more RPGs came over the wall and exploded against buildings in back. Murdock sent another flare up and checked out the port. It showed few of the attackers still in sight. “Next to the wall or gone into the hills,” Murdock said. “How’s our ammo?”

“Half gone,” a voice said. “Damn near empty,” another voice reported.

“So conserve and share,” Ed DeWitt said. “That might have been their final hoorah for tonight.”

“Stay alert on the other sides,” Murdock said. “They might think they pulled us all over here and hit at another spot. A flare now and again all around the perimeter wouldn’t hurt.”

The solid, nasty snarl of an AK-47 drilled through the night.

“One of them got inside,” Senior Chief Dobler said. “He’s down on my end. We’re hunting him.”

Two more shots blasted into the night, then silence. The war outside was over for the time being. Murdock wanted to rush down to where Dobler was, but he didn’t want to run into friendly fire. He hunkered down and waited.

“No, not there,” Dobler’s voice came.

“Yeah, right. I see him.”

Murdock recognized Fernandez’s voice.

A few seconds later, the H & G sniper rifle snarled three times, then an MP-5 slashed in with more than a dozen rounds on full auto.

Silence.

“Yeah, clear to the south,” Dobler said.

“Back to your positions,” Murdock said. “I want a casualty report.”

“Yo,” Franklin said. “Picked up a scratch from one of them damn RPGs. Nothing serious.”

“Doc, find him. Where are you, Franklin?”

“West side, south of the fence gully. No big deal.”

Ten minutes later, Doc Mahanani reported to Murdock.

“Skipper, Franklin has a nasty on his left leg. I’m taking him back to the room and get a good look at it.”

“Go, Doc,” Murdock said.

They waited out the rest of the night. Dawn came rolling across the deserted landscape about six. They could see no wounded or dead in front of the wall. All had been carried away. The dead half-track smoldered.

Murdock asked Ostercamp if he still had the prisoner.

“Yeah, and he’s hurting. I wrapped up his shot leg, but he’s a nasty little character. He must be near twenty years old.”

“Let’s take him back to the colonel and see what he makes of him.”

Colonel Khalof was not in his office. An aide said he was in the bunker. He led them to an underground safe house protected with reinforced concrete and double steel doors. The aide rang a bell twice, then twice more. Slowly, the first steel door swung out. The aide rang the bell once, then twice, then once. The inside steel door slid back into the side of the wall.

Inside, Colonel Khalof sat at a desk. He appeared to just have awoken. He turned and stared at Murdock.

“I heard the alarms and the shooting. This is my battle command post, but all of my communications went out. How did it go?”

“None of your troops fired a shot, Colonel.”

“What? They had specific orders.”

“They said they received no orders,” Murdock said. “My men beat back the attackers and captured one. We thought you might want to question him.”

The colonel smiled and rose. He adjusted his uniform, put on his garrison-type hat, and strode out of the bunker. They returned to the colonel’s office, where he called in two guards.

“Take this man and interrogate him,” the colonel said. “I want to know what unit he was with, who their leader is, and what their objective was last night in the attack.”

The guards nodded and took the captured man out the door. He screamed something at them in Arabic. Murdock looked at the colonel. He waved it aside.

“He said he would die before he told them a thing. This is not true. My men have many ways to make a prisoner talk.”

That morning, three companies of infantry set up a bivouac in the area where the fighting had taken place the night before. There were three more companies on the other open two sides of the palace.

Just after the noon meal, Murdock was called to the colonel’s office.

“We have obtained a great deal of information from the prisoner. Unfortunately, his wounds suffered in battle resulted in his death. We learned that the attackers were a renegade company of my army. My elite guard has tracked down the survivors of the attack and captured or killed them all. They will not be a problem anymore.

“I have reworked my communications system and given all units on guard the freedom to return fire anytime they are attacked.”

“Who was behind the fracas last night?”

“Our intelligence operation has linked that renegade company and its captain to a group of foreign agents who are trying to kill the sultan and overthrow his rule here. We have known about them for some time, but this is the first time they have made a direct attack on the sultan. We have rooted out the leaders of the group, and they will be executed tomorrow, the old way. We will chop off the heads of seven men in a public execution with ten thousand of our people watching and cheering.”

“One way to take care of the opposition.”

“We find it most effective. Almost as good as the way your men killed the captain who led the insurgents last night. He died in the half-track when it was hit by the RPG.”

Murdock nodded. “Then would you say our mission here is completed?”

“I would think so. I will contact your superiors and talk with them.”

“Thank you, Colonel Khalof.” Murdock came to attention, nodded curtly, did an about face, and marched out of the office.

Two hours later, the word came from Don Stroh on the SATCOM.

“Get your rear ends in gear, SEALs. A Greyhound has just left the Enterprise. It should touch down there in just a little under an hour, so get yourselves out to the airport. This whole damn Persian Gulf region is going to hell in a shit can. Trying to figure out which of three places to send you next. Now move.”

The SEALs moved.