Reese crashed in through the same window and sprawled, covering the open door.
“Take your squad and clear this side! Move!”
The black corporal nodded and got to his feet. He risked one glance through the doorway and then bolted through it.
Kevin followed him into the hallway and turned the other way, moving toward a bend. He heard running footsteps from up ahead and ran faster. He had to make it around the bend first.
He did it and turned the corner ahead of the North Koreans. There were four or five of them just meters away. Kevin saw soot-blackened faces, waving assault rifles, and eyes widening in shock at his sudden appearance.
“Eat this!” He clicked the M16 to full automatic and held the trigger down, pumping a whole twenty-round magazine into the NKs. They were thrown against the wall in spray of blood. An AK cracked once and Kevin felt something tug at his sleeve. A bullet. His rifle clicked empty and he ducked back around the corner, hearing only moans from his victims. He pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it.
WHUMMP! The corridor shook and dust swirled. Silence, followed by more muffled explosions from behind him as his men cleared the lower floor room by room.
He risked a quick peek around the corner. No signs of other NKs moving to the attack. They’d have to be dug out one at a time. Kevin settled back to wait for reinforcements and snapped a new magazine into his M16.
Sohn couldn’t understand it. The wheel had turned so quickly. How could the Americans have broken in? How could he have let that happen?
He shook his head in dismay and turned to Yi. The sergeant looked like a wreck, with his uniform ripped in a dozen places and a jagged cut across his forehead. He still seemed stunned by the rocket explosion that had so nearly killed him. Sohn frowned. The man was useless in that state.
More shots sounded from down the corridor, closer this time. They were followed by another explosion. The Americans were advancing steadily, eliminating his troops as they lay pinned by fire from the outside. They held the initiative on this floor.
Sohn made a quick decision and wheeled to face Yi squarely. “Get every man who can walk to the second floor. We’ll murder them on the staircases!” He forced himself to sound calm and confident and was pleased to see the sergeant seem to take heart from his orders.
They could still win this battle.
“Grenade!” Reese screamed, and threw himself away from the staircase. Kevin flattened and heard fragments whine overhead as the NK grenade exploded. He crawled to where Reese lay patting himself to check for wounds.
“You hit?”
The big corporal smiled thinly. “Nope, L-T Guess they just wasted some more ammo.”
“Maybe.” Kevin coughed in the dust-choked air. “What’re your casualties?”
The smile disappeared. “Two dead. Watkins and Lonnie Smith. A couple more wounded. None bad, though.”
Kevin frowned. Four gone out of the men he’d brought in. That left only five men, plus him. Not enough. He ducked as a new burst of AK fire from above tore up the bottom of the staircase. He looked at Reese. “Any chance of a rush up those stairs, Corporal?”
The man considered it for a second and then spat onto the dust-coated hardwood floor. “Not a chance in hell, L-T. They got it covered too well.”
“Grenades, then?”
Reese shook his head slowly. “They’d just toss ’em back down at us. That’s how Lonnie bought it.”
Kevin took another grenade off his combat webbing and stood, careful to stay flattened up against the wall. “Get your boys together, Reese, and I’ll show you a little ol’ trick I once heard about from a sergeant I knew.” He felt himself starting to sweat.
With the squad backing him up, Kevin edged closer to the staircase. He stopped, inches away from the opening, and listened. Footsteps and whispering voices wafted down the splintered stairs. Then he lifted the grenade and pulled the pin, counting the passing seconds silently. One thousand one. One thousand two. One thousand three.
“For Christ’s sake, L-T. Throw it!” Reese sounded shaken.
Kevin shook his head while counting. One thousand five. Now. He stepped to the opening and lobbed the grenade up the stairs.
Sohn saw the grenade bounce off the bannister and roll toward him. He reached for it. Another weapon to hurl back in the imperialists’ faces. The thought brought a thin-lipped smile to his face as his fingers closed around the grenade.
It exploded.
Kevin used the tip of his boot to roll the dead North Korean officer over and winced at the sight. The man must have taken the full force of the explosion at point-blank range.
“L-T?”
He looked up. Reese was standing nearby, breathing hard.
“We got ’em all, sir. The building’s cleared.”
Kevin nodded and felt the fatigue he’d held at bay starting to rush in. “We lose anybody else?”
The corporal shook his head. “Not a one, L-T, thank God.”
“Yeah. And a sergeant named Pierce.” Kevin sank to his knees.
“You all right, L-T?” Reese sounded worried. “You ain’t hit, are you?”
It took an effort to answer. “No, just used up.” He straightened his back. “Look, go find Montoya and tell him to contact Battalion and let ’em know it’s done.”
Reese stood still for a second and then saluted. Kevin nodded wearily and closed his eyes, listening as the corporal’s boots clattered downstairs. They’d won.
McLaren glanced at his watch. Just after midnight. He picked up his binoculars and focused them on the scene to the north.
Taejon lay burning, eerily illuminated by flares. Shells burst brightly in the center of the city, and he could hear the clatter of automatic weapons clearly — even at this distance. Tracers floated lazily through the air, reaching for unseen targets.
He turned to the South Korean major general standing next to him in the foot-deep snow. “Well, General, can you hold?”
The other man didn’t move, staring intently at the ruined city. “Yes, we can. My troops have already shattered three of the communists’ best divisions. Their dead are stacked like cordwood in Taejon’s streets.”
A helicopter roared low overhead, carrying wounded to the field hospital at the foot of the hill.
“And your own casualties?”
The major general shrugged. “They are very heavy, too. Around fifty percent.” He paused. “We could use reinforcements, General. These men have fought hard. They deserve a short rest.”
McLaren nodded. “You’ll get them. But only a brigade. I need every other man elsewhere.”
“A brigade is sufficient. We will hold them here.”
“Excellent, General.” McLaren turned back to watch the fires burning their way through Taejon. More flares popped above the city, and the sound of gunfire rose higher. Another North Korean attack going in, more men dying, he thought. “Doug!”
Hansen came out of the shadows. “Yes, sir?”
“Signal all commands. Let’s get Thunderbolt ready to go.”
The sacrifices made at Taejon would not be in vain.
The long convoy rumbled slowly along the winding road, moving at a walking pace through the darkness. MPs stationed beside the road with shielded flashlights guided the intermingled, kilometers-long column of tanks, trucks, and self-propelled guns. Whenever a vehicle broke down, teams of engineers, mechanics, and combat soldiers were quickly mustered to shove it out of the way and into cover. The column could not let anything delay it. It had to be dispersed and under camouflage before the next Soviet spy satellite swung high overhead.