Both Lam and the lieutenant were checked out on the SATCOM, and a new battery was put in the one Lam would carry. Both men decided that they would stash their combat vests with the cache on site, and travel light and fast, keeping their MP-5’s across their backs. Lam figured out how to strap down the SATCOM on his back.
“Damn, this is still a light load,” he said when he tested the setup without the usual heavily loaded combat vest. They crawled on the chopper promptly at 1150 and dug into their favorite MREs. Both birds took off exactly at 1200. The flight time to target was thirty-two minutes. All eighteen men were in one chopper; the other one was empty. It would make the run from upstream from the camp, then down toward it, loiter in the area for five minutes, then return to the airfield. The first chopper would stay on the ground downstream at the LZ and wait for a possible return of the SEALs. If there was a need for evac birds for the hostages, the helicopter pilot on the ground would radio the field for the number of craft needed.
Murdock stayed near the cabin as they came up to the river.
“River Run Two, this is One, making my turn down the river from ten miles upstream your position,” the speaker radio said.
“Roger that, One. We are about two miles from our LZ. Your timing is good. Continue run, then do it again, then bug out.”
“That’s understood, Two. Continuing run. Good luck.”
Murdock could see the landing zone ahead. It was a three-acre plot that had been cleared of brush and trees at a level spot near the river. It probably flooded each wet season, and now had been harvested. Probably rice. The area held a foot-high dike around it so it could be flooded to help the growing crop. The land was dry now as the bird settled down, the green lights came on at the open doors, and the SEALs darted out and charged to the cover of the trees at the edge of the river.
Under the shade of the trees, Murdock took a radio check. All men reported in. “Upstream,” he said. “Lam out front by twenty. Regular patrol string but single file. Let’s move at a trot. We have about six hundred yards to the village. Any surprise we might have had is gone, and we hope they have panicked.”
Five hundred yards later, Ejercito, Lam, and Murdock stared at the edges of the village past a heavy growth of trees. This one was not deserted.
“Looks like a normal village,” Lam said. Murdock glanced at the Filipino. Ejercito shook his head. “No, it’s too normal. The choppers would alert them and they should be tense, afraid, wondering who would attack. And it gave time for any rebels to hide and wait for us.”
“We circle around it,” Murdock said. “We keep half of our men on this side. Lam, you take Bravo around at ninety degrees to us. We don’t want to be shooting each other. Then we’ll fire some rounds into the trees. We don’t want to kill the civilians.”
“The rebels will use them as human shields,” Ejercito said. “I’ve seen them do it.”
“We won’t kill civilians,” Murdock said. “If they use them as shields to run, let them go. We’ll chase them as well as we can, then examine the village for any hostages or clues where they might be going.”
Murdock called DeWitt and told him the plan. He moved his men where Lam directed, and called Murdock on the Motorola when they were in position.
Alpha Squad had come up, and Murdock spaced them out ten yards apart from the river into the jungle so they had cover and could see the village.
“Alpha only. Each man, ten rounds into the trees. Don’t hit any civilians. We think the rebels are hiding somewhere in the village. Fire, now.”
The nine weapons chattered and cracked as the rounds riddled the tops and trunks of a dozen trees in the compound. The villagers in the open dove to the ground; some ran for huts, others dropped where they were and covered their heads.
In the sudden silence, Lieutenant Ejercito shouted out his demands.
“All villagers stay clam. We have no fight with you. The criminal outlaw rebels now in your village must come out with their hands up. We know you are hiding there. Surrender now and receive a fair trial for any criminal activity. Surrender now.”
Two machine guns and a rifle answered Ejercito, ripping the rounds into the area where he was protected behind a huge mahogany tree. Each of the SEALs had a tree to hide behind during the return fire.
“Take any sure shots you have, Bravo,” Murdock said on the Motorola. Two shots came almost at once, then one more. They heard a scream from the village. A man in white pants ran into the yard. “They are dead. All three of the rebels are dead.”
“Easy, careful,” Murdock said. “DeWitt, what can you see?”
“We nailed two of them. They had no protection from this angle. Shot the third and he crawled off somewhere. We think that was all of them.”
“See if you can find the wounded one and capture him. Don’t take any risks. If he still has a weapon, and uses it, waste him. Go.”
Without waiting, Ejercito sprinted from his cover to the closest house thirty yards across the opening. He drew no fire.
“Lieutenant, take it easy. Careful,” Murdock said on the radio.
They waited.
Three minutes later, the earpieces spoke again.
“We’ve got him, Skipper,” DeWitt said. “He’s alive and has two rounds in his legs. Doing a lot of blubbering in the native language.”
“Ejercito, find them and talk to the man. Pump him for everything you can. We need information. Any hostages here? Where are they? What’s the next rebel camp in this area? Everything he’ll talk about.”
“Yes, sir. I see them. I’ll be busy for a few minutes.”
“DeWitt, search the houses and huts, tell those who speak English that the fighting is all over. Have them come out of their huts. See if there are any hostages kept here.”
Murdock kept his men covering the village. When it was cleared, the civilians came out cheering and shaking hands. The SEALs took it easy in the shade. Murdock went to the hut where the prisoner was being questioned. He had been tired to a wooden chair. He was naked. DeWitt stood in the background.
Ejercito asked the man a question in Filipino, the other official language of the island nation in addition to English. The man shook his head. Ejercito put a four-inch slice across the man’s shoulder. He wailed in pain. Ejercito slapped him twice. The small man looked up, hatred and fear showing on his face. At last he nodded.
“You speak English, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. You said there is another rebel camp nearby. How close?”
“Ten miles upstream.”
“This is an outpost?”
“Yes, we report by radio. We smashed the radio when you attacked.”
“How many rebels in the next camp?”
“Twenty, thirty, maybe forty. It changes every day.”
“Is that where they hold the sixty hostages?”
The man’s eyes went wide. “Hostages? I don’t know about any hostages.”
“How long have you been posted here?”
“For three months. Nobody said anything about hostages.”
Ejercito stared hard at the prisoner, who didn’t change his expression. At last the lieutenant nodded and stepped back.
“I think he’s telling the truth. The next step is ten miles. Do we take it now or do Lam and I recon it?”
“We do it now,” Murdock said. “Bradford. Call the chopper on the Motorola and tell him we’re moving ten miles upstream. He should wait two hours, then follow us and find an LZ in that immediate area. Better at nine miles than ten. Do it.”
Murdock motioned to the captive. “What about him?”
“He’s got both legs shot up,” the lieutenant said. “One broken. We can leave him here. The locals will take care of him. Many of them sympathize with the rebels. He can’t hurt us. No way he can run up and warn them ahead.”