He watched the first of two MH-53J Pave Low helicopters cruise at rooftop height over the headquarters building. He hated to break the pilot's concentration on approach to a hot LZ, but the Delta operator might require immediate evacuation to save his life. The casualty report had been passed seconds ago, with no clarifying information. The helicopters could deploy the SEALS as planned, leaving the second Pave Low on the ground for a few moments to deal with the casualty.
"Copy. Stinger two-one will remain in LZ for evac."
Done deal.
"Delta One. Overlord. Pass casualty to Stinger two-one medical team for immediate evac."
He didn't expect a response. Delta One had just stormed the headquarters building.
McDonald hovered over Staff Sergeant Chamberlain, searching his unresponsive body for the wound. As the third operator in line stopped to help, he grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him toward the door.
"Stack up," he said and called Castillo over from the corner.
"You did the best any of us could do. Stay with him and cover us," he said and continued the quick search.
He started with the head and quickly determined that Chamberlain had not suffered from a headshot. Neck was fine. Upper chest…not sure. No way McDonald could tell in the dark. He listened to the broadcast from Overlord to the approaching helicopters. They'd take care of Bobby.
"Make sure the second helicopter takes him out of here," he said and stacked up behind the last man crouched outside of the door.
The lead Delta operator didn't wait for orders or hand signals. As soon as McDonald reached the stack, he tossed a flashbang inside the door. The seven-million-Candela flash illuminated the field in front of the building, followed by a thunderous 180-decibel explosive sound. Anyone standing inside the doorway would be incapacitated long enough for his operators to engage safely. With their rifle-mounted flashlights illuminated, they disappeared through the opening and assessed the structure. A long hallway ran from front to back, with two doors on each side. Not a word was spoken as they lined up on the first door to the right. The position of several antennas over the front right corner of the building suggested that this might be their communications room, making it their highest priority.
A flashbang detonated in the room, prompting the Delta operators to enter. As the last man in the stack, McDonald immediately pivoted upon entering the room and covered the doorway across the hall. He had seen enough upon entry to know that he would not be needed. A bearded man in a camouflage-patterned jump suit yelled for mercy, with his hands over his head. Within seconds, McDonald's team had slammed him to the ground, secured his hands with plastic zip ties and placed dark green duct tape over his mouth. The man tried to yell through his taped mouth and nose, making loud grunting noises, prompting one of his men to lean down and threaten to cut his throat if he didn't shut up.
The man quieted down, and McDonald heard his men ask a series of yes or no questions to determine if any other personnel had remained in the compound. The man wasn't one hundred percent sure that the building was clear, but he was the only one assigned to the communications center. The sounds of the interrogation were suddenly drowned out by the overpowering chop of the Pave Low helicopter's rotor blades and the intermittent buzz-saw bursts of its 7.62mm miniguns. Dirt and loose debris from the open field flew through the front door, filling the hallway and swirling darkness. DEVGRU had arrived.
"Pack him up. We need to clear these rooms!" he yelled.
Less than ninety seconds later, McDonald's team emerged from the front entrance. The first helicopter had already departed, firing long bursts from both of its side-mounted miniguns at the remaining terrorists along the front fence line. Stinger two-one sat in the middle of the field with its rear ramp down. SEALs hustled down the ramp and formed up near the buildings flanking the field. The first contingent of SEALs had already disappeared into the compound, presumably headed toward the front fence. Based on the volume of fire directed by the helicopters toward the south, he assumed that most of the remaining enemy personnel were clustered along that fence line. A sudden increase in small-arms fire to the south confirmed his suspicion. The SEALs had already reached the front fence line.
Two Air Force Pararescue operators lifted a medical litter holding Chamberlain's inert form and started through the pelting dirt storm kicked up by the Pave Low's rotor wash. McDonald sprinted over to them.
"What's his status?"
The Pararescue in front turned to him and shook his head. "He's dead. Rounds punched right through his side plates and out the other side. AP rounds. Sorry."
McDonald nodded as they carried his good friend away. Fuck.
"Overlord, this is Delta One. Man down classified as KIA," he reported.
"Understood. Delta Two and Three have finished clearing structures on your immediate flanks," Overlord responded.
"Roger. Delta units will secure the northern half of the compound and continue clearing," McDonald said.
"Copy. Six-two will assist."
The second wave of DEVGRU SEALs, known more affectionately to the public as "SEAL Team Six," would join his men and secure the compound behind the first wave of SEALs. He couldn't imagine the fight lasting much longer. The compound militia had their back up against a fence, and nowhere to run if they could find a way over it.
He jogged back to his team and broke the bad news. Nobody said a word. They simply nodded and formed up to continue their mission. He'd assign Delta Two to guard the prisoner and any others they collected. He didn't think it would be a good idea to leave his own team in charge of this scumbag's safety. They showed little reaction to Bobby's death, but he knew what they were thinking; the same thing he was thinking. His team would be much better off clearing structures.
Less than seven minutes later, they had cleared all of the structures not taken down by DEVGRU during their assault on the front part of the compound. Beyond the heavy drone of helicopter rotors in the distance, the valley had fallen silent again, punctuated by the occasional cry for help from the fence line. He hoped the men and women watching this in D.C. didn't ask him to turn around and help the traitorous fucks they just massacred. He wasn't feeling very charitable toward them right now.
Chapter 38
Frederick Shelby spoke into his headset and turned to the president a few seats away.
"Mr. President, I just finished speaking with Kathryn Moriarty, my lead agent at the scene. She arrived by vehicle convoy and has been briefed by the advance party. Their initial assessment is not encouraging, sir. One of the buildings cleared by 1st Special Operations Forces Detachment appears to have been dedicated to training groups to conduct pipeline attacks. The floor in the northeast corner of the room has been removed to expose bare dirt, and there is evidence that the ground has been disturbed. They found generic pipeline schematics that could be used for training and one set of equipment similar to what we found at the Fort Meade site. The building has its own ramp and loading bay, giving my team the impression that it had been used to store more equipm—"
"How much equipment?" the president interrupted.
"The back room where they found the spare set was large enough to comfortably fit at least twenty-five of these drills. Lockers along the wall hold shovels, a variety of smaller drills and picks, in addition to components to create two additional virus-injection devices."