Red heard a soft chuff, chuff from down the dock. Ching must have found a target. Red quickly sighted in on the second guard, who'd come out of his post and stretched. Red put two rounds into his chest and watched him go down in a heap.
Two more coughing rounds from Ching were heard. Nicholson dropped down the ladder and met Ching on the dirt under the pier near his ladder.
Murdock watched through his NVG from his spot, now about fifty yards off the pier. The night-vision device gave him a lime-green view of the scene and outlined the situation in a glance. He saw the four guards inside the fence go down and then his two scouts drop down the ladders.
"Let's go," he said softly to the remaining ten men around him, and they swam for the pier. Three minutes later all were onshore and had dropped their breathers and fins. They drained the water from their weapons, opened watertight pouches and put on their Motorola MX-300 communications radios. They each had a headset, an earpiece inside the left ear, and a wire down the back of the neck, through a slit in a shirt, and plugged into the battery and transceiver on each man's belt. A filament mike perched below each man's lower lip. It provided no-hands-on instant communication for about two hundred yards.
"Bishop, get up there and do the fences. Fernandez and Lincoln, go along to cover him. As soon as the fences both are blown, First Squad is on the assault. The rest of the Second Squad spread out in defensive positions in case we have some company. Go, go, go."
The three SEALS rushed up the ladder with Bishop in front pulling out the tools he would need, including the primer cord, really a heavy string of pliable explosive that burned so fast it was deadly. Wrap it around a man's neck and set it off and it will blow the man's head off. The SEALS used it for cutting holes in things like fences, doors, and walls.
Bishop sprinted to the first fence while the other two SEALS dropped to the tarmac both facing outward, both with CAR-15's set on full automatic and ready to fire.
Bishop worked quickly, weaving the ends of the primer cord in and out of the chain-link fence, tying it in place here and there with strips of plastic. He soon had a man-sized hole outlined. He inserted a detonator timer, set it at fifteen seconds, and pushed the lever to activate it. Then he ran back twenty yards and went to ground facing outward with his hands over his ears.
The cracking explosion sounded like a stick of dynamite hung on a string from a tree limb had exploded. A sharp cracking detonation cut through the chain-link wire and blew the "doorway" out of the fence and against the next one ten feet away.
Bishop jolted up as soon as the explosion hit and ran for the hole, through it to the next fence. He repeated the routine there and blew the second hole.
By that time, the seven men of the First Squad came up to the first fence and waited. When the second one blew, they surged through the opening in a flash and charged the small door to the left of the center of the warehouse. The door was locked.
Six rounds from Murdock's MP-5 smashed the lock and the door swung open inward.
The first three men went through the way they did in a Kill House. Murdock went first and took the right-hand third. Jaybird was second through, and handled the left third of the room. Holt came through a fraction of a second later ready to hose down the center of the room.
All three wore NVGS. It was a small office-type room with a desk, two chairs, and a bookcase. No one was there, it seemed. Then a man lifted up from behind the desk, a pistol in his left hand. Holt put two rounds from his CAR-15 into his chest and one in his head, and he slammed backwards out of sight.
"Clear here," Holt said.
"Clear," said Jaybird.
"Clear," Murdock echoed.
A small night-light burned to one side. The SEALS lifted their NVGS and checked the place again. Holt looked at the Chinese and made sure he was dead.
Two doors led off the room. Murdock unlatched one as silently as he could by turning the knob, then cracked it open so he could see through. It was the inside of the warehouse, brightly lighted. It was full of missiles, some in slings, some standing in mounts to be worked on, others in a rack next to the wall. Murdock could see more than a dozen.
He heard some men talking loudly to each other, and he motioned Ching up to the doorway. He listened for a minute.
"Bragging about the women they're going to have when their twelve-hour shift is over."
Murdock edged the door open an inch wider. Now he and Ching could see two Chinese soldiers on a catwalk at the far end of the building. They had rifles slung and seemed to be walking a fixed post.
The rest of the First Squad crowded into the room. They were weapon-ready for a fight.
Jaybird and Murdock had MP-5's, Ron Holt had a CAR-15 carbine with a grenade launcher, Magic Brown had his M-89 sniper rifle, Red Nicholson had another CAR-15 with launcher, Harry Ronson toted the HK 21A1 machine gun with NATO rounds, and Doc Ellsworth carried his favorite, a Remington five-shot sawed-off shotgun with the pistol grip instead of a stock. He kept it slung around his neck to leave his hands free.
They checked the other door from the room. It also opened into the main warehouse area.
Murdock pointed to three men and at both doors. "Take out the two men on the catwalk first. Then we charge in and see who else is in there."
Two SEALS with long guns moved to the cracked-open doors and sighted in.
"Now," Murdock said. The coughs of the two silenced weapons sounded and the SEALS burst through both doors. The sentries overhead were dead or dying. Two more Chinese Murdock hadn't seen on the floor stepped out from behind a stack of missiles and began firing at the SEALS.
23
Four SEALS dove behind heavy wooden boxes to avoid the rounds from the two Chinese soldiers ahead. Murdock rolled once and came to his feet behind some crates.
"Watch your fire," Murdock said into his mike. "Don't hit any of the missiles."
They had been cautioned to use single shots, not burst fire, while inside. Murdock looked out from his protection and saw that the Chinese had taken cover as well. Murdock nodded at Holt, who was beside him. Holt leaned around the boxes and blasted down the aisle as Murdock jolted ten feet ahead to another set of wooden boxes. He passed a missile and hoped that none of their shots ricocheted and penetrated the warheads holding the poison gas.
He made it, then laid down fire toward the place where they saw the Chinese, as Holt moved up on this side and Magic Brown surged forward on the other side of the eight-foot-wide aisle. There had been no more firing from the Chinese. "Ching, talk to them," Murdock said to his mike.
All firing stopped. Ching's voice bellowed into the open space of the warehouse with its three-story ceiling. "Soldiers. You are surrounded. Come out with your weapons held over your heads. You can't escape." There was no response. Ching repeated the lines in his best Mandarin.
A moment later a roar came from down the aisle. Three Chinese soldiers surged from behind wooden crates, firing automatic weapons and charged forward.
Murdock and Magic Brown chopped down the three before they ran twenty feet.
"Clear here," Murdock said. "Check the rest of the facility."
Murdock and Holt worked the right side of the hundred-by-hundred-foot complex. They found no more defenders.
"Clear left," Murdock heard in his earpiece. Ronson.
"Clear center," Doc Ellsworth reported by radio.
"Clear right," Holt said.
Quickly they checked the far front and then the back. There had been only five defenders, all accounted for.