Before they could move, a voice boomed at them from six feet away. “You guys sure as hell are funny-looking Marines.”
The SEALs turned weapons on the sound.
“Hold your fire, I’m on your side. I’m Tucker, one of the former hostages up above. I used to be a Marine. Took out three of their guards and figured I’d come find better company.”
“Come on in, Tucker,” Murdock said. “We can use all the help we can get. Mostly for you to tell us the layout up there, how many men they have, and where those damned machine guns are.”
Tucker came out of the gloom and grinned. “Damn glad to see some combat harness. Just who are you guys?”
Murdock explained.
“Heard how you shot up that outpost. The guy who escaped was screeching his head off about airbursts. True?”
“Damn straight,” Murdock said. He explained the Bull Pup. “Now what do they have up there?”
“Came in with thirty men from two choppers that scurried back to sea. Off a destroyer, my guess. They should be down to twenty-two men now. A lieutenant in charge with two non-coms. Looked to be seasoned troops. All have rice rolls for chow. Most of them ate up what supplies we had brought. I don’t know what they did with the two nuns who run the place.”
“The machine guns?” Lam asked. “How far are the tents from the MGs directly above us?”
“Not over fifty yards if they’re covering that gradual slope I saw the first two days we were here.”
“Okay, same orders,” Murdock said. “Let’s get spread out and do in those MGs. When everyone is in place, check in with your squad.” The SEALs moved.
“Airbursts with twenty-millimeters. Damn, wish we’d had that when I was in the Marines.”
“When we’re ready, I’ll throw up a couple of.556 bursts to see if they will respond with the MGs,” Murdock said. “Then we clobber them.”
Murdock motioned for Tucker to find a tree. He slid behind a two-foot-thick pine tree someone had planted many years ago. Three minutes later word came in that all SEALs were in cover.
Murdock fired two three-round bursts from his MP-5. He aimed where he remembered the left-hand machine gun had fired from.
There was no immediate response. Then both MGs began to pound off rounds, most aimed at the spot where they had seen the muzzle flash. Canzoneri slammed six 20mm contact rounds into the right-hand MG nest. He heard the others firing, and saw the airbursts to the left. Then the last of the SEAL rounds exploded. Both MGs were silent.
“Did we nail them fuckers?” Mahanani asked on the net.
“You run up there and ask them if they’re all dead,” Fernandez directed.
A silence stretched out.
“Murdock?” DeWitt asked.
“Give it another ten minutes. Then I want DeWitt and Canzoneri to go up there with hand grenades and see what they can see. You take the right-hand side. Bradford and I will take the airburst bunch. In ten minutes from now. Mark.”
“Skipper, I only have two frags,” Bradford said.
“Work the squad. We should have six each. Bring me four when you’re ready.”
“Aye, aye, Skipper.”
“I’ll go up with you, Commander,” Tucker said. “Then if it’s clear, I can show you where the Chinese have set up their bivouac.”
Murdock had decided to say no, but changed his mind. “Yeah, Tucker, you might come in handy. You say you killed three guards. How?”
“I had no weapon when I picked the lock on my chains, so I had to strangle the first guard. Dumb ass was smoking. Got this sub gun from the first guard, then the second one spotted me so I shot him. The third one I did silent with a Chinese knife. Not a bad weapon.”
“You have ammo for the fifty-three.”
“That what this is? Yeah, I have six mags.”
“Good, you might need them.”
Murdock gave them the marching orders at precisely 2304. Tucker fell in behind Bradford, and the three began working up the slope as quietly as possible. If there was even one man left alive on the MG, he would be ready to use it. By now the Chinese could have sent in a new squad to work the weapon. There was a chance that one of the airbursts had damaged the weapon itself so the machine gun wouldn’t function. That was the best hope.
Murdock scowled. One way or another they would all know in about ten minutes.
Murdock scurried ten feet ahead and dropped behind a stout tree. He looked behind in the hazy moonlight and saw Tucker using proper techniques, working forward quietly and staying low. The guy must be for real.
Lam had led out. Murdock let him go halfway, then tapped him on the shoulder and worked his way past him. Four minutes later, the spot where they had seen the machine gun was no more than fifty feet ahead. Murdock stopped and listened. All he heard were some night birds far off, some buzzing insects, and the rustle of some small creature working through the forest floor searching for dinner.
A cough racked through the stillness.
Murdock turned toward the sound directly ahead of them in the area they thought had the machine gun. Survivors or a new crew? He checked the terrain again. They were still on the downslope, forty feet from the top. He could swing to the left and go up a steeper part, but would not be directly below the position. Then he remembered the hand grenades.
He had made no arrangements with DeWitt about when to use the bombs. The inference was whenever they got in position. He waved the other two men up. He passed a grenade to Tucker and indicated the target. Lam came up and shifted five yards to the side. They all pulled the safety pins on the bombs, looked at each other, and nodded. They all threw the grenades.
Murdock ducked with his head into the ground and counted off the four seconds. Never had it seemed to have taken so long for the explosions. Two came muffled. The third, evidently more in the open, detonated with a cracking roar.
He heard shrapnel singing through the three branches over his head. Somewhere to the west, a machine gun cut in with three six-round bursts. Before the last one finished, a grenade went off over there, then another, then two more.
Murdock looked for Tucker. He had left his former position and was crawling toward the machine gun. Murdock hurried after him. They went over the top of the short ledge together, and fell into a dug-out spot four feet deep. Murdock spotted the MG. It lay on its side in the bottom of the hole. A wooden crate had furnished it with a platform to fire over the lip of the ridge. One body sprawled on top of the weapon.
Lam came over the top and dropped to his feet. He nodded.
Tucker lifted up and stared to the west over the top of the bunker.
“This is the far east end of the clearing,” he said. “The Chinese put a small tent bivouac under some trees about fifty yards back toward the tents.”
“Murdock, clear on MG right.” It was DeWitt.
“Clear on MG left. Hold your position. We may have the troops move up. Evaluating.”
“They can’t have more than twenty men left,” Tucker said.
Murdock used the mike. “Whoever has those EAR rifles, get your asses up here. I want one in each of the old MG bunkers. Move your fat asses. We could get a counter at any time and we can’t use the twenties up here near the tents. Move it now!”
Murdock didn’t know who had the EARs, but they seemed the best bet. Even the 5.56’s could send a lot of danger at the tents if the five men up here had to fire at oncoming Chinese.
“Let me go take a look, Skip,” Lam asked. “I’m sure none of the little bastards are out this way. I won’t make any contact, just peek and snoop.”
“Go. Radio me anything vital like you getting pinned down. Take Tucker with you.” Tucker grinned and nodded. The two went over the side of the bunker on their bellies, came to their hands and feet, and then ran soundlessly toward a splotch of pine, cedar, and juniper on the left.