“Where did they come from?” Lam asked.
“You’re the ears,” Juan said. “First I heard them was that first shot somebody fired too soon. They knew where we were; they should have closed in and cut us to pieces before we knew they were there.”
“Thanks for green troops,” Lam said. “We better keep moving along the hill. If we don’t fire, they won’t know where we are. The growth is too thick here for them to spot us.”
They ran along the hill, then climbed higher and went along the side of the slope again. Lam figured they were a mile from the first attack and he called a halt.
He held up his hand and listened. Shook his head. “Nobody back there. Hasn’t been for the last half mile. They gave up on us. Green as grass in-training troops.”
“So what should we do now?” Juan asked.
“Get back in touch with Murdock. Lay out a sked for tomorrow on the town. I’d bet he’s left his set on to receive. I didn’t tell him where to come.”
Lam checked their back trail, listened intently again, then set up the dish antenna so it would pick up the satellite. He closed his eyes and listened again.
“Nobody out there for a mile at least.” He turned on the set and made the call.
“Yes, Scout, sounded like you were attacked.”
“We were, Home Plate. Some green troops in training, we figured. They should have riddled us like a pair of sat-down ducks. We were lucky. I didn’t tell you where this camp is. Figured you’d want to know. It’s about twenty-five miles below the one we hit where we had the good firefight.”
“Twenty-five miles downstream. Shouldn’t be hard to find. Our LZ will be which side of it?”
“Upstream three to four miles on the west bank. Can’t really go downstream because the valley flattens out into farmland.”
“Roger that. Same time. We have the place. You guys dig a hole somewhere and wait for us. Don’t get fancy and try to do anything by yourselves.”
“We’ll go find an LZ and stay put. I can see a long nap before bedtime.”
“Do it and we’ll talk to you just before we take off at 1900. Home Plate, out.”
“Right, Home Plate. See you there.”
Lam folded up the dish antenna and packed it with the SATCOM. “Nothing like modern communications,” Lam said. “Let’s get out of here and find a good LZ three or four miles upstream from the town.”
They found it about 0100. It was maybe five miles from the town, Juan figured, but a great spot. Here a small piece of farmland had been carved out along a tributary that came into the main stream. There was an open space of two or three acres on this side of the river that had been recovered from the encroaching jungles. Now it was dry, but there was a two-foot dike all around the field like in a terrace. Only here there was but one level. It could be flooded from a short canal from upstream. Part of the field was still green. The area nearest the river was harvested, and Lam guessed rice had been the crop.
They moved back away from the LZ to the first lift of a ridgeline, and found a level spot just in back of the top. They could stretch out there and sleep and still get to the ridgeline in seconds to check out the trail along the river and the farmed field.
They relaxed.
“Should we stand guard?” Juan asked.
“Oh, yeah. Take your pick, 0100 to 0300 or 0300 to 0600.”
“Hey, I’ll take the first shift. You get some sleep. Don’t worry, I won’t go to sleep. I value my Filipino hide too much for that. They could have a night patrol out roaming around. If I hear them or see them, we’ll be fine.”
Lam hesitated. Now to 0300 was the most dangerous time for night patrols. He lifted his brows. The guy was an officer in the Army. He should know what he was doing. No complaints so far. Lam changed his mind in a flash.
“Hell, no, Juan. I want the first shift, worst time for nighttime raiders. I can hear them better than you can. You get some sleep. I’ll wake you up at 0300.”
“Either way. Yeah, I am a bit tired.” He lay down and propped his head on his pack, and was sleeping by the time Lam found his OP on the ridgeline.
Nothing happened for an hour and a half. Just after 0230 Lam heard movement in the growth below. He hated how the jungle ate up the sounds, but enough noise was there. He tried to count the men, but he couldn’t. The moon was out halfway and gave some light in the heavy growth.
Then a man ran across an open space two hundred yards away. The motion caught Lam’s eye. He put his binoculars on the spot. At night the glasses magnified the image, and also magnified the light. Not as good as NVGs, but they helped. He saw the next man go across. All had new-looking uniforms. They had field packs and rifles, canteens, but no blanket rolls or shelter halves. A patrol.
Lam watched them for another fifteen minutes as they worked their way slowly closer to the ridge where he crouched. If they came too close, he’d have to wake Juan and haul ass. He watched them through the glasses. The lead man looked tired. He kept moving across the face of the slope instead of going up it. Somebody would yell at him and he’d go up a step, and then to the left again.
Lam’s finger gently caressed the MP-5’s trigger. He could nail all six of them right there in the opening and nobody would hear a shot. They were too far from the camp and the jungle muffled the sound like a blanket. He moved the sights to the first man. Three-shot bursts from one to the other, right down the line. The fools were no more than two or three feet apart. Bad soldiering.
He eased his finger off the trigger.
No. Not his mission. They would pay, but it would be later tomorrow night when the whole SEAL platoon was there and they were taking down selected targets like bowling pins.
Yes, wait.
Then moments later a new leader took over, and he moved straight up the slope. When he crossed it he would be only a dozen feet from where Lam lay. Lam pulled the MP-5 down so the muzzle aimed at the men. Seventy-five yards away. How long could he wait? He blotted sweat off his forehead. He should wake up Juan.
12
A sharp command came from behind the rebels, and they turned in stride and worked their way back down the slope and in the direction of their camp.
Lam wiped sweat from his forehead. He decided not to wake up Juan right then. He’d tell him about it at 0300.
Nothing else happened the rest of the night. The word about the patrol coming so close was enough to keep Juan alert for the next three hours. Then the pair picked up and hiked over the next hill, and two miles deeper into the untarnished wilderness. At 0700 they stopped and used the SATCOM.
Lam told about their close call the night before, and emphasized the idea that the town might be expecting some kind of an attack since they had found two strangers with automatic weapons on their doorstep.
“They might be ready, but we’ll be ready too,” Murdock said. “I had an early meeting with General Domingo this morning. Alvarez has been placed under arrest and will probably be charged with treason, misappropriation of funds and equipment, bribery, conduct unbecoming, and all sorts of nasty stuff. General Domingo says we get anything we want. He brought in three forty-sixes. Turned out there were only two here despite what Alvarez said. Now we’re ready when we track down the hostages.”
“Don’t think we’ll find them on this shot,” Lam said. “We’ll have to keep our eyes and ears open about where they might be. Juan says some of the rebels wear red tabs on their shoulders. That may be our only sign who the leaders are.”
“Roger that. It’s in our briefing. You find a better hole?”
“Right, we’re three miles from the river, and snuggled down for a long daytime nap. Next we’re going to try out those new MREs they gave us this time. Supposed to be better than what we had before. About it. We’re out.”