"Right. I've got one wounded. Doesn't seem to be too bad. See you soon."
Murdock sent Horse Ronson up to the corner of the building to help lay down machine-gun fire to help the SEALS pull back. He spotted half-a-dozen fire points and began raking them with five-round bursts. Two SEALS moved past him and around the corner. One of them was limping.
Ronson kept up his chattering fire. He spaced out the bursts, conserving his ammo now so he could last through this fight and any others.
Another SEAL came past, turned, fired a final 40mm grenade, and darted around the corner before the round hit a hundred yards down the street. Al Adams with his CAR15 dropped beside Ronson.
"Holding them off. Thanks for the help." He started to load a 40mm grenade.
"Better save it, mate," Ronson said. "We ain't back in the bay yet. Might need some more firepower." Adams waved and ran around the corner of the building.
The rest of the SEALS came back singly until Lieutenant Dewitt dropped down beside Ronson. "That's all of us, Ronson. Heard the truck yet?"
"No, sir."
"We better give the Chinese something else to think about."
Just then three figures jumped up from thirty feet away and charged the corner of the building.
Ronson cut down two of them with two five-round bursts. Lieutenant Dewitt lifted his MP5 and sent six rounds into the last Chinese, who staggered and fell only a dozen feet away.
"Let's move back halfway," Dewitt said.
They heard a truck coming, and saw it as a black shadow as it rolled down the alley twenty feet across the wooden fence.
"Yeah," Ronson said. "Moving time."
They both set up as rear guard as they heard the fence smashed down and the SEALS stomping over it. Jaybird ran up to them and motioned them back. He stayed where they had been and sent a burst of rounds from his MP5 toward the far corner the rear guard had just left. He kept the curious Chinese soldiers from firing around the corner. A horn honked once, and Jaybird sent another six rounds screaming toward where the Chinese must be coming. Then he turned and ran for the truck. As he climbed on board, Magic Brown was slamming one round after another over the tailgate of the truck and into the spot where Jaybird had just been. The truck lurched ahead and they rolled down the alley and into the street.
That was when they heard the sirens. Murdock sat in the front seat beside the driver Ross Lincoln.
"Which way, L-T?"
The sirens came from the bay side. "Wanted to go back the way we came, but those sirens must be bringing more troops. We better head the other way for a mile or so. Then we'll cut back to the east and then south again and hope we can find the bay. I'd love to get back to the water as soon as we can."
The street they were on was narrow, a side street of some kind with mostly industrial buildings on both sides. They had turned left from the warehouse, and soon came to a wider avenue heading south the way they wanted to go.
Lincoln paused at the intersection. They looked right and saw two sets of blinking red lights racing toward them. They waited. One Army car and an ambulance went screaming past with sirens wailing.
"Straight across," Murdock said. "No other choice. We still need to go left when we can."
"What about the troop transports, sir?" Lincoln asked.
Murdock frowned and rubbed his face. "We ignore them. If the planes don't drop the paratroops to secure the dock areas, the troops can't land. If the missiles don't fly, they won't wipe out the Taiwan military. I think the troops on those transports are moot right now. They don't mean a fucking thing."
Two blocks later they came to a wider street heading south.
"Take it," Murdock said.
They swung that way, and another block down they saw a roadblock ahead. Two military rigs sat crossways in the street closing it. Murdock reached into the back of the truck through the back window of the cab.
"Give me a machine gun," He barked. He got one in his hands at once and pulled it into the cab. There was a belt of ammo hanging from the receiver.
"Keep going, then slow down as if you're going to stop," Murdock said. "I'll fire and you ram us right through hitting the center of the barricade."
When they were forty yards from the two Chinese Army cars, Murdock rammed the HK chatter gun out the passenger's-side window, leaned out, and sprayed a five-round burst into each of the two Cars. Then he concentrated on four soldiers standing behind the cars. In a moment they took return fire.
One round cracked the windshield. Murdock fired across the hood and scattered three shooters. Then he saw the collision coming and held on to the door frame and the weapon.
The heavy truck hit the two smaller rigs and drove them forward with scraping and tearing of metal. Then the much heavier truck pushed the small rigs aside and was through the barricade. The SEALS in the back of the truck poured out deadly fire at the defenders of the fort, who were now exposed and too dazed even to fire back. Half a block later they were free and clear.
"Good driving, Lincoln. You ever been in a destruction derby at your local racecourse?"
"Just once, sir. Lost my radiator and my engine on the first crash. Nobody told me you had to back up into everyone."
The street they drove down was less industrial now and showed an occasional business and a house or two. The street swung slowly to the left.
"Sir, looks like we're heading right back toward that main drag we came up to the missiles place. We want to do that?"
"No, take a right on the next good-looking street. We don't want to hit any more roadblocks."
The next street was wider than any they had been on. Here the buildings were all retail firms, and only a few had two stories. They drove half a mile, and then Lincoln pointed.
"Looks like another barricade ahead, sir, about three blocks. Three or four rigs and some flashing reds."
"Right next street," Murdock said. "We don't want to get lost, but we can't take a lucky round into the radiator which would stop us dead in half a mile. We need to get out of town. Let's keep on this street as long as we can. At best we're going parallel to the coast. Then all we have to do is cut cross country and find Mother Ocean."
Murdock hoped it would be that simple. He touched his radio mike. "Casualty report," he said.
Dewitt came on. "Frazier has a slight side wound. Not critical. He's fit for duty. Doc tied it up and gave him a shot. The other problem is Fernandez. Nasty hit in his right forearm. Might have touched a bone. He says he can still manage his M89. Doc looked at it and wrapped it and gave him a shot of morphine. I'll watch them both."
Murdock acknowledged the report. So far all of his men were fit to fight. It might not last. All they had to do was get back to the water. But how in hell did they do that? A good road map would help.
"Ching," Murdock called. Ching poked his head through the opening between cab and truck body.
"Yes, sir."
"We need to get to the coast. Are there any road signs that could help us? Poke your head out and check every cross street and road we see. We're fucking lost."
They drove another fifteen minutes without spotting any signs to help them. The buildings had gradually given way to empty lots and then an open field, and now they were at the ragged edge of the city. They could see the glow of the lights behind them and a darkness that spelled safety ahead.
"We're in the fucking country all right," Lincoln said, "but just where in the hell are we?"
Murdock had Lincoln stop the rig. He and Ching got out and stared at the lights.
We're south of Amoy," Ching said. "We have to be. If we turn left we should be heading for the coast."
"If we can find a road going in that direction," Murdock growled. "Ching, sit up front with us and see if you can find out how to get us to the coast. These Chinese don't waste much money on road signs, do they?"