North Korean Blowup

by Chet Cunningham

  Hunter looked at the building. Flames were shooting out the roof now and the whole thing seemed about ready to collapse. Flames gushed out the windows and he heard several large explosions inside, as the fire set off ordinance or tanks of gas.

  Ten soldiers charged out of the far door facing the street and formed into an assault line and moved at a jog toward where Hunter and his men crouched at the corner of the building. Now the AK-47’s sounded as Chang and Tanner picked off one after another of the marchers. Hunter put an aerial bust over the line and four more went down. The marchers were hindered by their own protective fence. They had to run toward the main gate now to get out for any chance to fight the men shooting at them.

  Only three of them made it to the gate. There the twenties poured in three rounds of air bursts over the gate and two men went down, the other one ran back toward the far side of the burning building and cover.

  A hundred or more men and women crowded against the chain link fence to get away from the heat of the fire. The whole building now burned like a torch at midnight, sending billowing clouds of black smoke into the windless sky. A gush of sparks sprayed into the sky as part of the roof collapsed. Then the near wall crashed inward and they saw that they were concrete blocks, and fell to the pressure of the roof and interior walls.

  “Company behind us,” Tanner said. He fired a burst of six rounds from the Forty-Seven and quickly changed magazines. Hunter looked behind and saw six men rush into the street. Two of them dropped from the first rounds. The others fired and Hunter and his three men scurried around the corner to escape the rounds. There was no more opposition from the assembly plant troops or guards who had been at the gate and vanished once the building began to burn. The heavy steel gates remained open. Hunter leaned around the corner and slammed a twenty at the feet of the last four men. The twenty millimeter round exploded dropping two of the men. The other two turned and ran up the street and behind a small building.

  “That’s our pickup spot,” Hunter said. “We have to go up there and clean up on those last two and get ready for Ho.” Murdock leaned in to his shoulder mike.

  “Ho, this is Hunter. We’re ready for pickup when you are. Will we be the last?”

  “Yes, last. End of line. See you then.”

  Let’s choggie, men. We need to find those last two soldiers up there and convince them not to shoot at us anymore.”

  “Cap, I could use some help,” Chang said. “Looks like I picked up a small scratch from those last rounds.”

  Hunter dropped beside Chang and saw the dark red stain on the SEAL’s right upper thigh. He used his KA-BAR and sliced the pants leg open. The heavy 7.62 AK round had thundered into flesh. Gently he felt the back of Chang’s leg. He didn’t find an exit wound. Tanner reached down with the long sleeve of his shirt he had cut off and torn into strips two inches wide. Hunter folded one of them for a pad over the still bleeding wound and then wrapped the cloth around tightly to hold the pad in place and stop the bleeding.

  “Is it broken?” Hunter asked.

  Chang shook his head. “Don’t think so. Hurts like hell, but I think I can walk on it. Let’s give it a try.”

  Hunter motioned Mo and Tanner to go ahead and clear the way. He waited until they were half way up the street of small buildings and a few shops. Then he helped Chang stand. He threw down the Russian made rifle and put one arm around Chang and they moved ahead.

  Chang swore softly with each step on his right foot.

  “Practicing my Mandarin swear words,” Chang said gritting his teeth.

  “We’ll go half way and take a break,” Hunter said. He heard gunfire ahead and then his earpiece came on.

  “Splash two NK’s,” Mo said. “Down and dirty. We’ll stake out a hiding spot to wait for our pick up. No sense in advertising that we’re here.”

  “Roger that. We’re coming. We may have ten minutes. Wondering how the others are doing.”

  Bancroft had Ho drop off his team two blocks from the target and they worked their way past small buildings and a few civilians to their vantage point across the street from the yellow two story concrete block building that was number two on the list. How in hell were they going to dismantle it? He could see two guards on the two corners of the building within sight. They would be easy to take out, but should they then storm the place. He had only four men. How could they take it out? He kept looking. On the near end of the building he spotted a twenty-foot long propane tank that was six feet in diameter. A tanker truck had backed up to the stationary tank and was either taking out or putting in propane.

  The “go” came over the radio from Ho. Bancroft smiled. “Dengler, get up here with that twenty.”

  Dengler crawled up near where Bancroft lay looking around the edge of a building.

  “See that tanker? Put a contact round into that hose and valve that is transferring the gas. Right now, Dengler.”

  The SEAL had sighted in at the first mention of the target, He refined his sight and gently squeezed the trigger. He held his breath as the finger moved slowly backward. He didn’t know for sure when the weapon would fire. It did. And he cranked in another round.

  Bancroft had pulled the HE round out of the chamber on his own Bull Pup and exchanged it for a WP round. He saw the first explosive twenty millimeter round hit the tank, and then quickly by a second that blew the valve completely off the ten thousand gallon storage tank of liquid petroleum gas. He had sighted in and now fired his WP round. It hit the tank just as a three inch stream of the LP gas spewed out of the hole in a gushing torrent. In a millisecond the ten thousand gallons of volatile gas ignited in a horrendous blast equal to twenty tons of TNT. The shock wave of the explosion knocked down six frame buildings on this side of the block house. The two story structure collapsed into one massive pile of rubble as the heavy concrete blocks on the near wall were propelled like artillery shells a quarter of a mile away. A dozen structures around the big building now lay flattened, including the one the SEALs had hidden near. The five men had been blown six feet to the rear when the massive heat wave blasted into them at the moment of the detonation.

  What was left of the interior of the big building, now burned with a furnace like intensity.

  Bancroft rubbed the dirt and smoke out of his eyes and checked on his men. “Everyone all right? They all nodded except Dengler.

  “Got me a scratch on my right arm. Don’t think it’s broken. Not bleeding. A chunk of concrete hit me.”

  Bancroft crawled over and looked at the arm. He had Dengler flex his fingers, then move his arm and up at the elbow.

  “You’ll live. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  They turned and hiked back through a few curious civilians who were running toward the blast. The SEALs wore their peasant clothing and nobody gave them a second glance. They got to the street corner where Ho dropped them off and saw the bus coming down the street toward them.

  He stopped the bus and they piled on board.

  “Heard firecracker go off,” Ho said. “Me come quick.”

  Senior Chief Petty Officer Lenny Chapman eyed the target, the one story building with several windows along the street side. He figured it was about fifty feet long and not more than thirty feet wide, one story with a shallow peaked roof. He watched the spot for five minutes before he heard the go ahead on his radio. There were no guards that he had spotted. Only one man had come in or gone out and he was a civilian. No army equipment parked in front and only two autos were on the curbside.

  He moved his troops so they could see the back of the building. An alley ran along the target with some smaller structures on the other side of the alley. Again, no guards.

  He looked back at the four men with him. More than enough.

  “Gorman, you and Jefferson move in on the double to the back of that building and plant four quarter pound charges at two places along the back side. Set the detonators for five minutes and run like hell back here. We’ll cover you. Get more C-5 if you need it.
”

  The men gathered up additional quarter pound blocks of the explosive and ran for the wall. Rattigan, Tanner and Chapman lay in the edge of the alley with their long weapons at the ready. The two men reached the wall and placed the quarter pound chunks in a stack against the block wall, then inserted the timers.

  A soldier with his rifle slung over his shoulder with the barrel pointing upward strolled around the far corner and looked at the two men. He jerked down his rifle and yelled at them just as three rounds from SEAL weapons hit him and knocked him backward a step and then he collapsed into the dirt of the alley.

  Jefferson and Gorman looked at each other and nodded, then activated the detonator timers, and ran like hell for the end of the alley and the rest of the detail.

  Another soldier came around the near end of the building just as Gorman slid into the alley. The soldier stared at Gorman for a moment, and then started toward him. The North Korean was only six feet from the building when the C-5 went off with a pair of horrendous blasts. The end wall erupted outward showering the soldier with heavy concrete blocks smashing him to the ground and covering him. The back wall blasted forward, the concrete blocks acting as battering rams as they flew threw the interior of the building, most penetrating walls and blasting out through the front.

  The roof fell in from the back first, then as it pivoted on the front wall, the force was too great and it smashed the front wall forward, scattering the blocks across the street.

  A cloud of dust slammed into the SEALs where they lay, as the shock wave jolted past them and blew out windows for a block around the now demolished building.

  The SEALs dug dust and dirt out of their eyes and looked at the Senior Chief.

  “Yeah, let’s get out of here and see if we can find that green painted bus.”

  They lifted up and hurried away from the blast. A few civilians stared at them then at the rubble of the building where three fires had sprung up and burned fiercely. A block up where the bus had dropped them off, they found it waiting.

  Ho’s radio talked to him.

  “Ho, this is Hunter. Where the hell are you? We’re in a bit of a fight here. Ten troopers appeared and knew where we were and started shooting. We could use a knight in shining green armor whenever you can get here. We’ve moved. We’re two blocks north of where we were. We had no cover at the other spot. Make it here as soon as possible.”

  “Right. Coming.”

  Hunter should have known there would be some military response. The ten soldiers had a sergeant leading them who had been in combat before. He had pushed them and pushed, and they had to retreat from one building to the next. One air burst twenty, had cut the bad guys down to six, but they still had lots of firepower. All had AK-47 Hunter knew by the sound of the firing.

  He peered around the side of a building and caught two of the northerners sprinting from one building to another twenty yards away. He led them and strung a burst of six rounds at them. One fell and dragged himself around the building before Hunter could sight in again.

  Hunter saw the bus coming. It was heading toward them, which put the door on the far side. He waved his men to get across the street. They went one at a time with the others firing cover. All made it across except Hunter as the bus pulled up. Hunter saw three of the green clad soldiers come around a building firing as they came with the AK’s on full auto. He ducked back, then reached around the corner of the building and triggered one twenty just in front of them. All three went down in the blast of shrapnel and Hunter was on his feet sprinting across the street and into the cover of the big bus.

  He slammed on board and Ho had the rig in reverse and powered back the way he had come for a block, then turned into a street and gunned the bus toward the front gate. They had a little over a mile to go, Hunter figured. He wasn’t sure what would be waiting for them there. They would have to plow through the gate, that was for sure, but it wasn’t a heavy steel one. He wondered if the place had gone on high alert once the first blast came from the crushed buildings. He looked down the street. He could see the gate ahead. In a quarter of a mile he would find out just how tough it would be to shoot their way through the fortified gate.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Foster had grabbed Chang as soon as he came into the bus and had the temporary bandage off him and treated the wound, worried about there being no exit wound, and put a good pad and wrap around his leg to keep the bleeding stopped.

  Hunter sat in the first seat behind Ho and watched the street. It quickly turned toward the main gate and they saw the situation. They had parked a light utility rig across the outbound lane that had a thin wooden barrier arm down. Ten soldiers stood guard in front of it.

  “Roll down the windows,” Hunter bellowed. “We’ve got company. I want every weapon out the window firing on my command. Get the windows down now.”

  They rolled them down quickly, weapons charged with a round and fingers on triggers. When they were forty yards from the soldiers, Hunter gave the word to fire. The men pushed the long guns out the windows and fired ahead at the troops. Half of them went down in the first barrage, then some got up weapons and returned fire, but more rounds blasted into them and the few not dead or wounded ran off the roadway.

  The SEALs kept firing as they roared toward the light rig. More of the soldiers and men at gate went down. Another barrage of rounds hit the bus.

  Ho aimed the big bus at the rear end of the light truck blocking the lane. The bus’s front bumper hit the small pickup at the rear axle and pivoted it out of the way, spinning it across the road. The light gate bar hung down, but the bus crashed through it with ease and they were out on the highway.

  Behind they heard sirens, and Hunter figured there would be a pursuit. It just depended how many troops they had in the area and how many trucks they could put on the road.

  For the first time, Hunter looked at the windshield. There were four bullet holes in it. Ho coughed and Hunter stepped up beside him. There was blood on his shirt front.

  “Pull over,” Hunter told Ho. “I’m driving. Foster, get up here with your kit. Ho’s been hit.”

  The bus stopped at the side of the road for thirty seconds. They helped Ho into the front seat and Foster went to work. Hunter pushed into the seat, brushed off shattered glass and got the bus moving again. In the rear view mirror he could spot no pursuit, but it would come. He had to figure out how and where he wanted to engage them. Always make a fight on your terms and on your time frame. He tried to remember the terrain between there and the highway. A few hills, not many trees. But there was one good spot near the highway. If they made it that far he would drive the bus in there under the trees and put his troops along the road to cut down anyone who came after them.

  “How’s Ho?” Hunter asked.

  Foster looked up and nodded. “Took a round high in his shoulder. Probably broke his clavicle. The round came out, thank God. I’ll have him patched up in five minutes.”

  Hunter used his shoulder mike. “Listen up. We’ll have friends coming to call soon. I’m floor boarding this old crate to get us almost to the highway and that woodsy patch. We’ll make a stand there. They can outrun us, so we dictate the terms of the engagement. Get locked and loaded, fresh mags and spares near by. We’ll dismount and find cover with good firing lines. Any questions?”

  “How many guests we talking about?” Tanner asked.

  ` “No way of knowing. Maybe thirty, maybe ten. We’ll play it as it falls.”

  Ten minutes later Hunter drove the bus into the woods patch. The highway was less than a quarter of a mile ahead. He and Bancroft placed the men behind trees and mounds of earth left over from the road construction. They were set and waiting when Tran alerted them.

  “I’ve got at least two six-bys coming up the road. We use twenties out as far as we can see them, Cap?”

  “That’s a Roger. Remember a laser won’t work when they’re driving fast. Go for a lead of about twenty yards when you fire in front of t
hem. All of the Bull Pups get ready. That little curve down there is about five hundred yards. We’ll surprise hell out of them.”

  “Should be here soon,” Tran said. “Make that three trucks.”

  Chapman, the farthest out along the line called out. “Got them, coming around the corner. Fire at will.”

  His round went off first as a six-by truck powered around the small curve. Two more rounds fired. The rest waited for more targets.

  One of the first rounds hit in front of the lead truck, shattered the windshield and flattened one tire. The truck veered off the road as the tire on that side pulled it away and the driver got it stopped before it turned over.

  Two more rounds fired at the first truck slashing through the canvas in the rear and exploding. The next two trucks came around the corner, veered to the right to get around the truck partly blocking the roadway. More of the heavy twenty millimeter rounds jolted into the trucks, exploding with deadly efficiency. One round hit the gas tank and it erupted in a huge fire ball as exploding gasoline splattered over the roadway catching some of the men in its grasp.

  Survivors rushed to the side of the road and hid behind a small hill.

  “I count twenty behind the hill,” Bancroft said. “Laser the top of that hill and let’s see how they react.”

  Six rounds fired almost at the same time and seconds later they exploded five hundred yards away with six perfect air bursts just over the rear slope of the hill.

  “Hold fire,” Hunter called. “Watch for survivors. Are all three trucks out of commission?”

  “The last one is still running,” Tran said.

  “Put two rounds into it,” Hunter said. “The men at that end of the line.” Two men fired, then fired again.