SEALs took the south and west sides of the church, finding hiding places and cover up to fifty yards from the structure. Rangers covered the other two sides. When all were in place, General Domingo walked up to the church and knocked on the door. No one answered. He checked his watch, then opened the door and walked inside. He was alone.
Murdock’s men were closest to the church door. “If we hear any shots, even one, we’re charging that door. Alpha Squad on the front door, Bravo take the side and back doors.”
They listened, but heard nothing.
Inside the church, the general took off his floppy hat and looked around. No people. Only some candles burning at the altar.
“Hello,” he called. A moment later he called again.
A small priest in his clerical dress came from a door near the front, saw the general, and hurried up.
“I’m so glad you came. They were here all night, but are gone now. They ate everything in the rectory and made me go get more food. There were seven rebels and six hostages. They said if I told anyone they were here, they would shoot me.”
“When did they leave, Father?”
“At daybreak. They hurried out the door and toward the river. I watched them. They went north along the highway. I couldn’t see them far.”
“North?” Domingo thought about it a moment, nodded, and thanked the priest, then hurried outside.
Murdock relaxed when he saw the general. Domingo called the troops together and told them what the priest had said.
Juan frowned and spoke up at once. “I need to do more work on our rebel captive.”
“We haven’t heard anything about the APC,” Murdock said. “We should check with the townspeople to see if they have seen the armored carrier anywhere. If he has it, that might be a last resort.”
Domingo motioned for Juan to go back to the warehouse. The general nodded. “Yes, Commander. A good idea. We’ll use all of our men to canvass the whole damn town. We can do it in two hours. Officers, assign your men to the areas and let’s get asking questions.”
The survey wasn’t total, but Murdock figured they talked to people in at least eighty percent of the buildings and houses. An hour later one of the Rangers came on his Motorola.
“We have a sighting of the APC,” he said. “A man saw it come out of a garage building just before daylight and drive toward the highway. You can still see where the treads tore up the street.”
Five minutes later Domingo and the others looked at the track marks on the soft dirt street, and followed them to the highway. The driver had angled into his turn before he hit the blacktop, giving away the direction he would go on the hard surface. He had turned north.
“Back to the helicopters,” Domingo barked. They all jogged three blocks to the improvised LZ.
“Once that machine turns off the hard-surface road, we’ll be able to see the marks the tracks make and follow him. Everyone with full combat gear and ready to take off in five minutes,”
Murdock’s men were ready. They loaded in one of the two helicopters waiting. Soon the Rangers arrived and crowded into the other bird, and they both took off.
The choppers flew low and slow. One bird watched the surf side of the highway; the other chopper did the same on the mountain side. They worked out two miles, retraced the area to be sure it was clear of any tread tracks, and moved on down the highway. Twice more they doubled back to check their work. By the time they were about six miles out from the town, Domingo used his Motorola.
“We have a turn. Plain as day the tracks come off the road and go up a narrow dirt lane.”
“Here we should get cautious, General,” Murdock said. “Remember those RPGs they have and the fifty. How about some altitude and a high-level survey first to see what we can find. Must be some buildings up here.”
“Yes, Commander. I agree. I was getting too anxious. Let’s go up to two thousand feet and see what we can find. There should be some buildings here somewhere.” The birds circled as they climbed, and Domingo used binoculars as he tracked the vehicle below.
Murdock said the rebels should have known better. Someone on the ground fired an RPG at the choppers at their two-thousand-foot altitude. Not a chance the grenade would get that high. Even before it reached its zenith and turned down, Murdock had put two rounds of 20mm into the area where the smoke trail showed that the rocket had been fired from.
He had shot out the side door, and had no idea if he hit the rebel below.
“At least we know we’re on the right track,” Murdock said. They circled another five hundred feet higher, remembering the fifty-caliber weapon somewhere below. The plain here was three miles wide before the mountains lifted up in a gentle series of hills.
“I’ve still got the tracks,” Domingo said. “They turn off the road and leave a highway of broken shrubs and plants through the small growth of trees. But I don’t see any buildings. Yes, there, just ahead. Looks like an old ranch house that the jungle has taken over. Could be some livable places inside.”
“Incoming,” Murdock bellowed. He pushed his Bull Pup out the forty-six’s door and got off one round at the wisps of blue smoke coming from a small clearing below.
“Got to be the fifty MG,” Murdock said. “Get us the hell out of here,” Murdock bellowed at the pilot. “He’s got a mile range with that fucker.”
The chopper jolted to the left and then the right as it dropped quickly to get out of any firing pattern.
The bird Domingo was in had tried the same maneuver, but the other way. “We’re hit,” Domingo shouted into the Motorola.
26
“We’re not hit too bad, and the pilot says he can fly to the left and down, but not with much maneuverability. Must have hit some of the control wires. We’re maintaining control, looking for a cleared spot. Down to a hundred feet and out of range of the MG. Murdock, are you all right?”
“Not hit, and we have a good sighting on the spot where the tracked rig stopped. We’ll go treetop level and the MG won’t be able to get on us. I want to rip a dozen rounds of twenty into that area and see if we can discourage the MG and maybe cut up the APC or some of the men.”
“We’re almost down, Murdock. Figure we’re about a half mile from the tracks and that dirt road. We’ll assemble and move your direction. Don’t mistake us for the rebels.”
“That’s a roger, General. We’re treetop now and coming in from the other direction. He won’t even hear us until we’re almost on him. I have three twenties shooting out the left-hand door.”
Murdock moved to the floor and got into firing position. The other two twenties were aimed over his head.
“Almost there,” he shouted. “We’ll get there and bank away and give us a broadside. Coming up. Banking, now.”
All three weapons fired one round into the area where they could see the sandbagged position of the fifty-caliber MG; then they were away and hugging the treetops again. They heard the fifty-caliber fire, but none of the rounds came close.
“Once more from a different angle,” Murdock yelled at the crew chief, who told the pilot.
The second run at the position was better, and they could see the machine gun set up on a tripod and the men trying to turn it to bring it to play on the chopper’s sound. They banked, and all three fired at the machine gun. They saw the twenties hit, and this time there was no answering fire.
They pulled away, and Murdock told the pilot to find the other chopper and set down near it. He did. The SEALs poured out of the bird and Murdock put them on double time, tracking the Rangers on their way to the showdown with Muhammad.