Murdock had been checking the aisle between the cells. He saw shooters on both sides, hugging the cells so any firing at them would endanger the sailors behind them. He pulled Magic Brown up.
"Do it. We need delicate hits. No misses into the prisoners. Those are our boys."
Magic tightened the sound suppressor on the short barrel of the new HK PSG1 high-precision sniper rifle, and went belly-down at the corner. He angled the muzzle around, and checked through the 6 x 42-power scope.
"Bastards are firing at sounds," Murdock said. "They can't see a damned thing."
Magic's sniper rifle coughed through the suppressor, and they heard a wail of pain down the corridor.
Magic took his time finding the next victim. One Kenyan lifted up and ran away from them. Magic slammed one quick round at him. Then, with his eye on the scope, Magic nailed the man with the second shot, smashing him to the concrete floor, where he didn't move.
A sudden clanging sounded, and two hundred cell doors rolled back all at once. Magic watched the men pour out of the cells. Half a dozen overwhelmed each of the Kenyan soldiers still alive in the alley between the cells. One AK-47 blasted, but then all was quiet.
"Hey, sailors," Murdock bellowed. "Who's in charge of this outfit?"
Murdock watched through his NVGs as a man worked through the sailors.
"That would be me, Lieutenant Commander Wilson Judd. My compliments on your quick action. Our Captain is KIA."
The officer came forward. He wore no rank on his dungarees. He saluted the shadow in front of him, and Murdock took his extended hand.
"Lieutenant Murdock, with the SEALS. Glad we could be of some service. Afraid the dance has just begun. Have your men get any weapons they can find from the ex-guards and the Kenyan military. We'll need them. You have any idea how to get out of this mousetrap?"
The commander laughed. "Not a fucking clue. Just glad to see another American. How is the ship?"
"Don't know. First order of business is to get you and your crew back to the Monroe."
"You've got a carrier offshore?"
"And a whole task force. You're important people to the Navy, Commander Judd."
Murdock touched his mike. "DeWitt. Any reason we can't go back the way we came in?"
"Considerable. We're still in the balcony seats. In the corridor behind us are at least twenty-five angry Kenyans who are howling and bellowing and firing down the corridor. How about a detour or an alternate route?"
"Working it. DeWitt, get your troops down here." Murdock looked around. "Where's Nicholson?"
Jaybird had joined the party. "He wandered off when the cell doors came open."
"He'll be back. You have any wounded, Commander Judd?"
"Three or four, all minor."
"Get them up here and let Doc look them over. We may have a couple of minutes before my scout gets back."
The commander passed the word, and soon Doc had three men to check out.
"You have any KIA, Commander?"
"One. One chief had been on the nervous side, and he mouthed off to one of the guards. The bastard shot the chief four times."
"Not sure we can take him out with us. Depends on the route. There should be a stretcher around here somewhere. I'll have my men with the goggles look for one. If we can't take him out, we'll damn well come back and get him."
Red Nicholson came up and touched Murdock's shoulder.
"Sir, found another corridor that isn't covered. Not sure where it goes, but it's on the first floor."
"Even if it goes out the front of this place, that's better than facing those guns back there," Murdock said. "Take three men and check it out, and leave one of them as a guide at each turn. Move out."
Murdock began getting the sailors into some kind of order. Four of the men had found AK-47s with some extra magazines. He put them at the end of the sailors to be a rear guard.
Commander Judd separated the 160 men into groups and had officers with each bunch. Murdock approved, and they moved out.
Commander Judd walked beside Murdock. "You wouldn't have an extra weapon, would you, Lieutenant? I feel naked."
Murdock unsnapped his Mark 23 pistol and gave it to the commander. "That's a forty-five auto with a real kick. Twelve rounds. Here are two spare magazines."
The commander thanked him, and they hurried down the corridor that Nicholson had found. At the first turn they picked up Ching. A tough-looking security gate there stood open. Evidently Jaybird had opened more than the cell doors in the control room.
At the second turn, they found Magic Brown. He still lugged the extra twenty pounds of the .50-caliber sniper rifle and ammo. Another security door had been swung flat against the wall.
Thirty yards down a dark corridor, they came to Red Nicholson, who was waiting. Murdock moved up beside him.
"Looks like we're working toward the front of the complex, L-T. Only trouble is we have a sandbagged machine gun set up on a tripod down there maybe fifty yards. He's got good protection. Doubt if our 223s or our NATO rounds would hurt him."
"How many men down there?"
"I've seen four. May be more. The weapon is aimed our direction like they know we're coming."
Murdock used his lip mike. "Magic Brown, get your bones up front. We need your talents."
Commander Judd eased up beside Murdock. "Problems?"
"One heavy machine gun and a whole shitpot full of sandbag protection."
Magic dropped beside Murdock. "You want the Fifty?"
"Amen." He told the black man the situation. He saw Magic grin in the darkness.
"No fucking problem, L-T." He pulled open the drag sack and unlimbered the big sniper rifle. A specially fabricated ten-round magazine was in place with the five-and-a-half-inch-long rounds.
"Sir?" Murdock said, looking at the full commander.
The officer nodded, and moved out of the way. Brown angled the big weapon around the corner with the bipod out front. He adjusted the Leupold Ultra MK4 16-power telescopic sight and settled in to take a shot.
Murdock moved the others back ten feet, and Magic Brown began doing his thing. His first round took out the man sitting behind the old-style.30-caliber heavy machine gun. Magic could only see half of his head and one shoulder. The round smashed through the Kenyan's left eye, and splattered half of his head down the corridor.
The booming sound of the .50-caliber round sounded like a 105 artillery round. Before the sound had echoed down the tunnel-like hallway, Brown had his second shot lined up. A foolhardy Kenyan had pushed his dead buddy out of the way and moved into the seat behind the weapon. This one looked around the side of the machine gun, and Magic fired again.
The perfect shot centered on the soldier's mouth, and blasted his head off his shoulders.
Half-a-dozen rifle rounds whistled past Magic, and he pulled back to the safety of the wall for a moment, then leaned around and worked the bolt quickly three times, slamming three chunks of hot lead from the magazine into the sandbags and anyone foolish enough to get in his way.
He paused a moment, then looked around the wall and checked his target through the scope. A dim glow back-lighted the position. Magic spotted one man working slowly back toward the light. The heavy .50-caliber round made him drop what he had been dragging, and blew the soldier a dozen feet down the hall and straight into any afterlife he might have.
"About it, L-T," Brown said.
Murdock motioned to Red, and the two of them aimed their weapons around the corner of the wall and sent full magazines of hot lead down the long corridor. "Let's go," Murdock said. He rounded the corner, and sprinted down the narrow hallway. He jumped over two sandbags, almost tripped over a body, and kept going with the First Squad of SEALs right behind him.
Murdock stopped at the light they had seen. It was an overhead ventilation shaft of some kind. There was no way to get up to it. Murdock waved them past, and Red took the lead. They came to a section with half-a-dozen doors off the main stem. They ignored them and moved ahead, weapons ready.