“Thanks, Forestry Four. We’ve got a bit of firepower ourselves. We’ll keep you informed. Murdock out.”
Bradford turned off the set, folded up the antenna, and stashed it with the SATCOM.
“Let’s figure their best route this direction from that smoke, then get down from here and sit and wait for them.”
“Moving is good,” Bradford said. “My ass was getting sore sitting on that hard ground.”
Lam studied the land between them and the smoke. It seemed to come up from behind a ridge about three over. “Could be another ridge in there, but my guess is they would go up the valley where they set the fire, then over the ridge when it petered out and swing back west again.”
“Another assumption,” Jaybird said.
“That’s the best we have,” Murdock said. “Lam, we go down to the second ridge from the fire and watch over the top and see where they show up?”
“About the size of it. Second ridge will give us some operating time.”
“Got to thinking about the Bull Pup,” Bradford said. “If they stick to the trees, an airburst might not be much good. Too many big fir trees to absorb the shrapnel. If they do take the easy route out in the open, the laser might be the ticket.” Murdock put them on a fast pace down the slope and up the other side, then down another one and up. They paused on top as they all slithered up to the ridgeline and looked over it down into the third valley.
“No movement,” Lam said.
“Not time enough for them to get here,” Jaybird said.
“Not many open spots down there for them to utilize either,” Murdock said. “So we wait.”
Twenty minutes later, Jaybird was the first to see the movement. “Yeah, I got something. About twenty degrees right of that old lightning-hit snag halfway up the slope.”
“Got it,” Lam said. He refined the focus on his glasses. “Could be another deer going through the brush,” he said.
“Or some gook crashing brush in Pyongyang City Park chasing some slant-eyed little beauty,” Bradford said.
All four binoculars zeroed in on the spot.
“More movement to the right,” Murdock said. “Could be working toward that rocky open spot more to the right.”
They waited. Then Bradford grinned. “Be damned. Two of them, two guys in cammies or I’m a horntailed, fucking cow. Look at them, like they didn’t have a worry in the world.”
“How far, Lam?” Murdock asked.
“Two thousand yards, maybe more. They just look closer.”
“I was figuring about twenty-five hundred. Too far for a Bull Pup shot. Anybody guess where they are headed?”
Jaybird studied the landscape in front of the pair. “They’re on the side of that ridge. They go down it to that small valley, work it toward us to get back on their east heading. My guess is they cross the valley in the open and work toward us at about a forty-five-degree angle, and climb the ridge one or two down in front.”
“There’s that one more small ridge down there between us and that valley,” Lam said.
“Oh, yeah. Missed it.” Jaybird scowled. “So hey, we just wait until they get down the second one and come up this little one. Then they’ll be in range of the Pups.”
“If we can catch them away from the trees,” Murdock said. “It might not be that easy.”
They waited.
“I’m taking up the harmonica,” Jaybird said. “No kidding. It’s a great little instrument. Heard a guy in an improv club the other night, and he was great. They don’t cost much, and I can get a book and learn myself.”
“Keep it in the woodshed while you’re learning,” Bradford said. “My brother tried to learn. Sounded like a damned train whistle that was out of whack.”
“Hey, man. I say I’m gonna do something, I’m gonna do it. Fact is, I bought an instrument couple of nights ago and I’ve been practicing.”
“Just so you didn’t bring it with you,” Lam said. “We’re on a quiet watch here.”
A soft wail of four notes on a harmonica answered him.
“Just a test,” Jaybird said. “No, I’m not going to practice. I do that alone.”
“How long until our friends push over that ridgeline down there?” Murdock asked.
“Another twenty,” Lam said. “That’s tough going, up and down that way, and they must be bushed.”
“How far is that ridge, Jaybird?” Murdock asked.
“Eight hundred yards. Hey, damn, it’s in range for a laser, and no real trees up on top. Barren as an old maid’s womb.”
“My guess was seven-fifty, so we’re good. Lam and Jaybird, take the first shots as soon as they come all the way over the ridge. Bradford and I will ride herd. If they don’t go down, or scramble for cover, it’s our turn. All lasers.”
They settled in and waited. All with rounds in the chambers, the safeties off, and sweat starting to ooze out of their foreheads.
“Waiting is always the toughest,” Bradford said.
“Not for me,” Jaybird said. “I can catch a little nap and wake up refreshed and ready to nail these bastards.”
“Look, there’s the smoke,” Lam said. “Now it’s up where we can see it again.” A moment later they heard an airplane, and then saw a big tanker lumbering over the ridges. Evidently the pilot spotted the smoke, climbed, and did a series of turns, and then came down at a flat angle and vanished behind a ridge. Seconds later he zoomed up from the other end of the ridge.
“Borate,” Murdock said. “Borate bombers. It’s a red powder that is a fire-retardant. Things just don’t burn where it falls. Washes away in the winter and causes no harm.”
“Can they put out a fire that way, without a ground crew?” Jaybird asked.
“If the fire is caught early, and they get lucky. A ground crew will go in and mop it up, but this way they can hit it while it’s small. Might take a ground crew six, eight hours to find the flames. And by then half the hill would be on fire.”
“Those gooks have used up their twenty minutes,” Lam said. “They must be getting tired.”
“Hope they don’t flake out for a nap,” Jaybird said.
“I’ve got movement midway along that second ridge,” Murdock said. The rest saw them then, the two men in cammies, who came to the top of the ridge and stood there a moment.
Two shots blasted from the Bull Pups, 20mm rounds lasered, and were on their way.
“I’ve got the right-hand guy,” Murdock said.
The airbursts exploded in a cracking roar as the big rounds finished their mandatory rotations and went off. Murdock watched his right-hand man through the scope. He had the sights set on him as he sagged, tried to run, doubled over, and fell. He didn’t move.
Bradford’s man looked around and limped toward the ridgeline. Bradford’s weapon went off just before the North Korean got to the ridge top and safety. The big round exploded at his feet, blasting a hundred shards of hot steel into his body, taking off half his face and slamming him backward. He fell half over the ridge with only his feet and legs visible.
“Splash two,” Jaybird said.
“Bradford, break out the SATCOM,” Murdock said. “Jaybird, use the GPS and have our coordinates ready.”
Forestry Four came on the SATCOM on the first call.
“Forestry, we have a splash two of the firebugs. Down and out. They are on a ridge in the open about eight hundred yards from our coordinates on a near-westerly heading.” He gave the radioman their coordinates from the GPS.
“Well done, Murdock. We’ll have a chopper on its way to pick you up in ten. Take it about twenty to find you. Do you have a good LZ?”
“Tell the crew chief to drop a ladder and pick us off the ridge. We do ladder pickups all the time.”
“The pilot won’t like the air currents around a ridge, Commander. Isn’t there a flat LZ around there?”
“Not without trees all over it. We’ll do the ladder pickup out the rear hatch.”