The team re-formed into a column, well spread out. On the lieutenant’s order, the compass men — stationed near both ends of the column — began to guide everyone north. The lieutenant remained near the front of the column. Felix stayed near the rear and picked his way between the tree trunks and the roots.
The underbrush was thin, because so little sunlight reached the ground. Clumps of dense growth — the kind he had chosen for the place where the team had sheltered last night — formed only when old trees died and toppled, or when standing trees were broken or felled by lightning strikes or hurricanes. Such gaps in the trees made openings through all the canopy layers, under which more dense brush could spring up. But away from these overgrown patches caused by major deadfalls, the dangling vines and protruding roots were more annoying than anything green that grew out of the ground. Progress on foot took care, but there was no need to hack a trail with swinging machetes.
Felix was worried. His team appeared to be in the middle of a hotbed of trigger-happy bad guys. Sooner or later the Brazilian Army would send units to investigate all the shooting. This would make the SEALs’ job even harder. The rules of engagement for this mission allowed them to fire only in self-defense and required them to keep that fire to a bare minimum. Their goal was information, not body counts. Any body counts, while they were violating neutral territory, could have extremely negative repercussions. Guerrilla murderers and terrorists were one thing. Killing a Brazilian Army recruit or officer by mistake was something Felix didn’t even want to think about.
The terrain was gradually rising as the team worked north, and Felix noticed that the species all around them were subtly changing. He reached out to hold a particularly thick and thorny vine away from his face and body. The SEALs were penetrating a clump of closely spaced trees, whose trunks bulged with the round mud nests of ants and termites. No one wanted to bump into one of these nests and the SEALs’ rate of movement was slowed. Felix had a sense of foreboding. He walked practically on tiptoe now, his eyes darting everywhere. He scrutinized the terrain as he quietly placed each foot — away from any twigs that might snap. He watched the rain forest constantly for signs of some stranger watching him. His ears worked so hard he felt as if they were stretching out from his head.
The next men in his team in front and behind were barely visible. They were forced to group closer together. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to communicate by hand signals and might even become separated and lost — with disastrous results. By now, Felix was dripping with sweat instead of rainwater.
The team eventually cleared the stand of trees. Among thicker trunks with different bark, spread wider apart, they were able to increase the distance from man to man in their column. They probed on.
To their front an enemy weapon opened fire. Then everything seemed to happen at once. Felix heard shouts and screams. More fire began to pour in from the flank — from the right flank, from east.
Felix had never heard the sound of these weapons before.
We’ve been suckered. The ambush, this time, is perfect.
“At them!” Felix screamed. The best tactic was to charge the flanking enemy. To take cover in this situation amounted to suicide — that weapon to their front, firing straight down along the SEALs’ column, would pick off every man fast.
Felix led his men to the right. Everyone fired on full auto. The enemy fire increased. The men began to be driven back.
“The LT’s hit!” someone screamed. Felix recognized the voice — his point man. Still, strange weapons poured in fire. Again, clumps of bark flew everywhere as bullets pounded into trees. Vines danced and fell as they were riddled. The mud insect nests that bulged from trees exploded.
Felix belly-crawled toward the front of the column. As he passed each enlisted man, he steadied him and urged him to return the enemy fire and charge the enemy ambush again. They tried, but the fire was just too heavy. It came at them knee-high or lower, well aimed and effective. The men were forced to huddle in folds in the ground or hide behind trees. They fired their weapons half-blindly into the distance. Their muzzles flashed and spent brass bounced and clinked. Moving parts in the silenced weapons clattered. The men changed magazines steadily. Burned bullet propellant went up Felix’s nose.
Felix reached the lieutenant. The man was dead, his skull shattered. His brain sat in the mud on the trail, in almost perfect condition, as if it had been removed by a surgeon. That strange weapon to the front fired yet again, a slow but steady explosive bloop-bloop-bloop. It sounded like a cross between a heavy machine gun and a grenade launcher. The noise of it hurt Felix’s already-ringing ears.
Felix pulled out a pair of white phosphorus grenades. He fell back, then threw one toward the strange heavy weapon, and the other to his right, toward the flanking enemy riflemen. He ducked behind a tree.
Both grenades exploded. Felix charged forward, relying on the choking smoke screen for protection. He hefted the lieutenant’s body across his shoulders. The heavy enemy weapon fired another three-round burst. More shrapnel filled the air. Felix took out another smoke-incendiary grenade, his last. Over his shoulder, he tossed it at the dead man’s brain — this was as good a point of aim as any. Felix ran to the rear with his lifeless, dripping burden. The third white phosphorus grenade burst behind him. Again Felix felt the radiant heat and coughed on the fumes of searing phosphorus. Bits of it landed near him and made the puddles steam and hiss.
“Withdraw,” he shouted, still speaking Portuguese for disguise. “Follow me! Break contact!”
Felix had realized what that strange enemy weapon was. He’d heard that the U.S. Army was developing something like it.
An objective crew-served weapon. A highly portable twoman miniature cannon that fired one-inch-caliber explosive rounds on full automatic. These weapons had laser range finders, and electronically fused each round before it was fired. The fuses could be set precisely by timer so the weapon made lethal air bursts at any specific range its crew wanted to target.
Explosive rounds from such a weapon were pounding at the SEALs. One round had taken off the lieutenant’s head.
At least the smoke grenades are blocking their range finder. With that, and the trees in the way, it’ll be harder for them to zero in on us.
Felix ordered his team to retreat to the south, regrouping on the run into an all-around circle formation. The enemy, whoever they were, followed in close pursuit. More incoming explosive shells detonated, near the ground and high in the air; the eardrum-splitting concussions were fast, and bright, and hot. Birds and monkeys screamed. Dislodged seeds and heavy ripe fruit rained from far above. Entire branches crashed to the earth. Enemy bullets tore by like angry, burning bees.
The SEALs took turns firing back the way they’d just come while others ran ahead and reloaded. Then the SEALs who’d fired would rush for safety while their teammates unleashed vicious fire at the enemy. The men did this over and over again, taking turns, covering more and more distance each time. The enemy continued coming after them, returning the fire. But the noise of reports, the incoming rounds, were the only signs of the enemy — Felix couldn’t catch one glimpse of who was shooting at him.
Felix heard more bloop-bloop-bloop sounds, overlaid on more sharp concussions each time a grenade round exploded in the air or against a tree. The jungle was thick with flying shrapnel and bullets now, and kicked-up debris. There was painful pressure in Felix’s ears from the punishing noise.