Murdock went through it for him. Then he looked at his watch. “Sir, we better get back to the men and get set up for tonight. We’ll need extra chow and some late chow, and probably some new ammo. Who will our contact man be?”
“Major Ramos will handle that for you,” the general said. “My car should be here. I’ll be in your quarters without any insignia and in jungle cammies to get outfitted with gear at 1800.”
The SEALs jumped to attention as the general walked out the door. Murdock looked at DeWitt. “I just hope to Christ that we don’t come out of this mission with a wounded or dead general.”
Juan shook his head. “Hey, he’s a legend in the Army. One of the top rebel fighters of all time. He can do it all. I was pleased when he was sent over here to take command.”
Murdock nodded. “I hope he’s that good and that we don’t have any bad luck on this one. It could get a little grim.”
Back in the barracks/general room, the SEALs took the news of an assault with a few cheers and a lot of calm professionalism. This was their job, they’d do it.
When Jaybird came in an hour later, he was all smiles. “Hey, that bloody general can shoot. He’s a natural. Took to the Bull Pup and the EAR after one quick run-through. We’re not going to have any trouble with him.”
“Trouble?” Vinnie Van Dyke asked. “What does he mean, trouble with the general?”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you guys. General Domingo is coming along with us on this mission. He’ll be fitting into Ostercamp’s slot. Don’t worry, he’s a combat man who’s been fighting the rebels and guerrillas around here for ten years. Probably has as many kills as most of us. He came up through the ranks from private.”
“No rank in the field?” Bradford asked.
“Oh, damn right,” DeWitt said. “He understands that. You won’t see any stars on his shoulders when he’s with us.”
They finished prep for the mission, then went for an early chow that had been arranged.
“Nice to have a genuine general on your side,” Fernandez said. “He lifts a brow and things get done.”
Just after 1800 Domingo arrived. He had walked over from his office. He wore jungle cammies and a soft hat; all had been well used. On his hip he had a .45 automatic in a battered holster.
Jaybird had dug into their replacement supplies and laid out a complete setup for Domingo. As soon as he came in he held up one hand. All conversation stopped.
“Men, my name is Domingo. I’ve had some experience fighting these rebels over the years. I’ll be going with you. Call me Domingo. I’ll fit in wherever I can. Thanks.”
Jaybird motioned, and Domingo looked at the gear. He grinned. “Oh, yes, I dreamed of a setup and weapons like this a million times. Now I can use it.”
Jaybird had him outfitted in a half hour and familiar with all the gear. He loved the radio.
“What weapon do you want to carry, Domingo?” Jaybird asked. The small pleasure of using the man’s name and not rank seeped through.
Domingo grinned. “Whatever weapon the wounded man had. I’ll fill his slot.”
Jaybird grinned. “Ostercamp had the H & K NATO 7.62- round machine gun. You better talk to the j.g., Mr. DeWitt, about your weapon. It’s his call.”
The new Filipino sergeant was outfitted as well with equipment that Sergeant Estrada had used.
By 1900 the SEALs were on the tarmac in front of the hangar where the forty-six sat warming up its engines. Murdock had a chance to talk to Domingo.
“General, on this mission I won’t use your rank again. We do need a little chat. Out here in the field we have no rank, but I’m still in charge. On this mission, you answer to me. I’ll listen to your ideas as I will the rest of the men’s, but the final decision in everything is up to me. Do you agree?”
“Absolutely, Murdock.”
“For this mission, in the field, I outrank you. I don’t think we’ll have any problems. You’ve done your share of rebel chasing, so we’ll get along fine.”
They shook hands, and Murdock went out to talk to the chopper pilot. He was a captain, and his nameplate said he was Samar. Murdock told the captain their destination, and indicated that he should drop them off, and then turn around and fly home.
“I want you on a five-minute alert the rest of the night and all day tomorrow back here at the field. Better sleep in your flight suit. When it’s time to come out, we’ll have to get out of there fast.”
“Understood, Commander. We have no set LZ?”
“Right, we don’t want to alert them that they will have company. We’ll check out the area. It’s in the mountains, or on the slope of a mountain, which won’t help. If there’s any danger to the bird, we’ll do a rope drop keeping you thirty feet off the deck.”
“Sounds like good insurance. I’m ready for you to load. Oh, I won’t be taking a door gunner or a crew chief on this run. Saving some weight. Besides, my chief is down sick.”
The chopper took off precisely at 1910 and turned west toward the mountains. The southern part of Mindanao had mountains just behind Davao, Murdock had learned, then a fairly wide plain in the middle and a ridge of mountains near the west coast. Those were the ones they would drop in on.
Murdock wished he could come up with some kind of a strategy or a plan, but there was nothing they could do until they were on the ground and could determine the layout of the place and where the strengths and weaknesses were. They had about forty-five minutes of flying. It was nap time for most of the SEALs. The three Filipinos sat rigid, unable to relax.
Murdock dozed once, came alert, and checked his watch. They were more than halfway there. He went up to the pilot.
“You know these ridges over here, Captain Samar. Any places where you can find a good LZ?”
“Not usually. More likely a little opening in one of the valleys between the ridges. Like the ones we’re coming up on now. See how they peak and then run down the other side? No real level spots except if the valley below is wide enough and some stream has gouged out a flat place here and there.”
They were shouting to hear each other over the noise of the helicopter. Looking down, Murdock saw some flashes.
“Gunshots from down there?” he asked.
“Yes, some wild-eyed rebel with an AK-47 trying to be a hero,” Samar said. “Those rounds could hurt us if they hit us, but not much chance of that. They routinely fire at our Air Force planes. That’s partly how we know where the areas are the rebels control.”
“We need to go up a little higher?”
“Not on my flight plan. We’re still two thousand feet over those rifles, and that’s straight up. Seven hundred yards is a long shot for a rifle against a little target like we are.”
They flew for another five minutes, and Captain Samar said it would be about ten minutes before they would start looking for an LZ.
The impact of the rifle round came like a bright star. The bullet grazed the canopy and made a long crack in the Plexiglas. At the same time three more rounds hit the chopper and the pilot scowled.
“Damn, somebody has our range,” the pilot said. He jerked the bird to the left and down to get away from the bullets. Murdock almost fell when the pilot jolted the helicopter to the left.
“Anything vital hit?” Murdock asked.
“Should know in about two minutes. Worst problem could be an oil line. Not very well protected on this model. I’m moving lower toward that ridge up there. See the one in the moonlight? It has a lot of trees, mostly pine in here, but sometimes there are landing spots. Probably should check out the bird on the ground if I can.”
They came in lower and slowed, and then Samar saw an open place. It was an area of slab rock twenty yards square where nothing would grow. The pilot grinned and pointed at it.