by Mark Harritt
Everett just wondered how long it would take for the grey men to catch on. Hopefully, it would take a long time before they did so. One of the things in the team’s favor was the lack of air cover for the grey men. The team had discussed it, and the only thing that seemed to be in their inventory were troop transport. If they’d had assault craft, this strategy would have been a lot harder to carry off.
As they trotted down the path, they heard an explosion behind them. Everett had left the grey men a present in the form of a grenade booby trap. He’d placed the grenade on a path through thick vegetation that could be used to flank the small team.
“Sounds like you were right, Ev,” Mickey called to him, in a low, quiet voice.
Everett nodded, a grim smile on his face.
----------------------------------------------------
This location was different that the others that Mike and Tom had been using throughout the day. Some of the locations had been a little too close for comfort. This one presented a unique opportunity for both teams to use.
The woods were still thick through here, but the trees were taller, blocking sunlight to the undergrowth. Mottled sunlight filtered through the tall trees. There was plenty of open space underneath the canopy, with open vistas for approximately one thousand meters. It was perfect for the sniper rifle, and the M203. Now, it was Tom’s job to lure the grey men toward their position.
The grey men’s mottled green camouflage helped them blend in to the vegetation, but Mike could tell they weren’t used to moving in the forests. They didn’t use the trees for cover as they moved, instead, walking through the open areas under the trees.
“You see him?” Mike asked.
“Yeah, I’ve got the ‘scope on him.”
“Okay, whenever you’re . . .”
The trigger broke and the first shot went out before Mike finished his sentence. Another grey man went down. The others were looking around, trying to figure out where the shot came from. That was the beauty of using a suppressed rifle. The sound of the bullet leaving the rifle was muffled, and the sound that most people tracked was the hypersonic crack of the bullet as it went by them. This lead to confusion about where the shooter was. The thing that usually gave away the shooter was the cloud of dust that the overpressure leaving the barrel kicked up. That wasn’t a problem in this area, with all of the grass and moss covering the ground, though.
Tom shot another man hastening to aid the first. One of the grey men shouted something and pointed in their direction. That was the least preferable way to figure out what direction a sniper was shooting from. Wound channels gave an indication of the direction, if you had enough of them. The other hostiles started darting from tree to tree, moving towards Mike and Tom. Mike could only watch as Tom plied his craft. It was a thing of beauty to watch a master at work. He couldn’t get them all, but he knocked down quite a few as the grey men maneuvered on their position.
The grey men had a big obstacle to overcome. The trees were too far apart for them to be able to dart from cover to cover effectively. They spent too much time in the open, and Tom was able to target them before they could get to safety. Still, there were way too many of them for one shooter to take them out. When they reached the four-hundred-meter mark, Mike added his rifle to the mix.
More of the grey men went down. When they reached the two-hundred-meter mark, Mickey joined in. The 40mm grenades started lobbing in from the south. Mickey and Everett started shooting the Sig 716 as well, giving the impression that there was a larger unit engaging them. The new threat threw the grey men into confusion. They’d thought that they had a single target to engage. Now that they were taking fire from a new direction, they stopped moving and hunkered down behind the trees. Mike and Tom kept up the fire, echoed by Everett and Mickey.
Then, things started to get dangerous. More hostiles started maneuvering in behind the grey men they had pinned down. Enough hostiles that could rush forward to overwhelm their position.
Mike put his fingers to his lips and let out a piercing whistle. Mickey and Everett’s guns fell silent as they maneuvered out of their position. Mike and Tom kept up the fire to give them time to get out.
He slapped Tom on the shoulder, “You ready?”
Tom nodded. They pulled back from their position. This next part was crucial. It was a scheme that Matki had come up with, and Mike was worried about what might happen. It involved Matki exposing himself so that some of the grey men followed him. Mike didn’t like it at all. Still, if it worked, it would do a lot of damage to the grey men.
Mike followed Caul, with Tom hot on his heels. Mike heard a cry go up behind him as the grey men saw them run away. Sporadic fire buzzed through the trees around them. Up ahead, a spur off the northern cliff face stretched down toward the forest, close to the kraal they’d spent the night in when they were traveling to Matki’s village. Across that spur, a fissure had developed. There was a wide opening with rocks strewn across the front. The fissure started to narrow as it went up and it looked like it might end at the base of the northern cliff. What couldn’t be seen was the smaller fissure that led out the other side. They wanted the hostiles to move into the fissure, which created a funnel to channel the hostiles into a confined area, where Matki could do some damage with a grenade. In front of the fissure mouth was a small clearing with good visibility. It was a great danger zone for an ambush.
They could hear the grey men shouting behind them as the hostiles took up the chase. Mike and Tom picked up their speed. Caul could outrun them, but he made sure that Mike and Tom could keep him in sight. The woods in front of them opened up, and then they were in an open stretch with the opening to the fissure about two hundred meters in front of them. He couldn’t see Matki, but he knew that he was there.
They passed through the clearing and entered the forest on other side. Mike prayed that Matki would make it out okay. Five minutes later, gunfire sounded as Matki engaged the grey men running after Mike and Tom. Matki was putting a lot of rounds down range, but he had to make a lot of noise to sell the trap. It sounded like the hostiles took the bait as Matki diverted their attention from Mike and Tom toward himself. The sound of the hostiles’ rifles increased as they tried to kill Matki.
Mike and Tom followed Caul around the spur. Their job was to provide over watch as Matki exited the smaller fissure on this side. Mickey and Everett were set up at the point of the spur, in a location that Mike couldn’t see. They had a Claymore set up to make sure that Mike, Tom, Caul, and Matki wouldn’t be flanked from that direction. That was the last Claymore that they had. Most of the C4 had been used in the grave trap. They had one more brick left. Ahead, they had one more trap laid out, but they wouldn’t reach that one until tomorrow morning.
Mike was worried. They didn’t have a whole lot of ammunition left. He didn’t want to take a chance on bringing these soldiers toward the compound, so they couldn’t head up the valley toward the necropolis. The grey men had them trapped in the large valley, only able to move in one direction, toward the dragon valley. The dragon valley was about twenty, thirty miles ahead of them. All they had to do was keep trailing them. One mistake, and the team wouldn’t make it out. Even if they made it to the dragon valley, they had nowhere to go. They would be trapped between the grey men and the dragons. Mike hadn’t said anything to the rest of the guys, but this might be a one-way trip for them.
Mike heard a grenade go off, then more gun fire. It sounded intense in there. Matki came boiling out of the smaller fissure and put his back up against the rock. Bullets were ricocheting out. He huddled against the side, pulled out a second grenade, pulled the pin, and tossed it overhand back into the fissure. He ducked back, and the grenade went off. Dust flew out, masking his figure. He pushed off from the rock, and hit a dead sprint, rushing to Mike’s position. He slid in behind Mike.
“I think they are very unhappy right now.”
Mike grinned at him, “I think they’re really pissed off right now.”
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Guns opened up on the other side of the fissure. Bullets were tearing up the inside of the rift. There was no way anybody could survive that hail of bullets. Mike was in awe. He looked back at Matki, “How the hell did you survive that?”
Matki grinned, “There is a small rise in the middle. I hid behind that. It gave me cover from the bullets and my grenade. I ran out as soon as the grenade exploded. I think I did some damage.”
From the amount of gunfire coming from the fissure, that was an understatement. A loud explosion rang out off to the right, at the point of the spur. That was followed by the sound of gunfire.
“Well, that’s the Claymore. They’re trying to flank us. We gotta go!” Mike opened up, shooting at the fissure mouth to drive back anybody that was trying to get through. The rest of them started shooting at the mouth of the fissure as well. The grey men stopped shooting. Mike didn’t know if it was because they were getting hit by the gunfire or if they were just taking cover. He pointed and Caul and Tom, and motioned for him to start running. Caul took off, followed closely by Tom. Now they would bound back, with Caul and Tom as one buddy team, and Mike and Matki as the other. Tom yelled, “Set!” and Mike slapped Matki on the shoulder, and started running. He didn’t need to look back. He could hear Matki running behind him.
They bounded back a hundred meters, then two, and since there wasn’t any weapons fire, they broke off the maneuver and just started sprinting back through the the tall trees, trying to put more cover between them and the grey men that were going to come boiling out of the fissure. They sprinted for two minutes, then slowed down to a distance eating trot. They wanted to put a lot of distance between them and the grey men. They had a few hours before night fall, and they wanted to be far away. Now, his only worry was Everett, Mickey, and Geonti. He hoped that they’d made it out after they set off the Claymore.
They had the advantage that they’d just set the grey men back on their heels. Plus, the grey men didn’t look like they were long distance runners, not with their build. They were built like fire plugs, just a little bit taller than Matki, and as wide as Mickey. That wasn’t a good combination for a long distance runner. Hell, as tall as Mickey was, even with his long legs, it was hard for him to keep up due to the amount of muscle he had on his frame.
They ran three thousand meters, and then did a security halt. Mike was panting as he slid behind a tree. It was a jumble of tree trunks that they’d designated as a rally point. Mike and his team were going to pull security and watch for Everett’s team, and if necessary, take out anybody that was on their trail.
Mike tried to control his breathing. The adrenaline from combat and their run to safety had driven up his heart rate. He needed to bring it down so that he could listen for the enemy. It took a few minutes, but his breathing returned to normal. He looked over at Tom. Tom was leaning against a tree stump, looking around the side. Mike picked up a pine cone and threw it at him. Tom looked over. Mike gave him a thumbs up. Tom returned it. Mike did the same thing to Matki. Matki gave him a thumbs up as well. Mike couldn’t see Caul from his position, so he motioned toward him. Matki threw a pine cone at Caul, and received a thumb’s up, one of the hand and arm signals that they’d taught him, Geonti and Jendi. Matki relayed the thumbs up to Mike. It wasn’t an ACE report, but it would have to do for the moment.
Satisfied, Mike settled down to listen. Fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes passed, and then Tom held up his hand, drawing everybody’s attention. He held his hand with all fingers extended, pointing in the direction that he’d seen movement. He didn’t make the sign of enemy sighted, which was the thumb and forefinger extended, the thumb pointing down at the ground, and the finger pointed at the enemy. Mike hoped that the movement Tom had seen was Everett or Mickey. It had been a long time since the last ambush, and Mike was getting worried.
They were coming in from the direction that Mike and Tom were watching, moving slowly, and quietly. A wind blew through the trees, masking the sound of movement through the vegetation. He still couldn’t see whoever it was. He watched Tom out of the corner of his eye. Tom was still watching, alert.
Tom suddenly relaxed, tension leaving his body. He turned to Mike, “It’s Mickey.”
Mike relaxed as well. He stood up and looked around the tree that was blocking his vision. He saw Mickey, and waved at him. Mickey waved back, looked behind him, and waved for the others to join him. With positive identification, Mickey moved quicker. He hurried into the rally point. He slid down close to Mike.
“Everybody okay?” Mike asked.
Mickey nodded. They were quickly joined by Everett and Geonti. Mike looked at Everett, “You ready to go?”
“Yeah, let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Hey, Matki, let’s go.”
Matki nodded, stood up, and led the way out of the rally point. They had another five thousand meters to travel to get to their patrol base for the night. They slowed their travel pace down, no longer running, listening for hostiles that were targeting them. Matki and Geonti were in front, and Caul was bringing up the rear.
Mike grudgingly admitted to himself that it had been a good idea to work with Matki and the other hunters. There was no way that they would have survived the day without their help. The tribal hunters knew the best routes to travel on both in terms of ease of travel and maximum concealment.
The pace they were traveling was still brutal. They had no choice though. They had to get out of the area. Mike had no doubt that the grey men would be conducting night time patrols to find them. He had no idea how many hostile soldiers had been deployed into the area. He’d seen at least a company sized element, maybe more.
They were lucky today. There opponents were woefully inadequate in this kind of combat. It was obvious that the hostiles weren’t used to operating in in the woods. The team’s greatest advantage had been the three days they had to prep the battlefield before the grey men arrived. Matki and his hunters knew the lay of the land intimately, and that had helped greatly on prepping ambush sites and maneuver corridors. Not all of it was luck though. The grey men had been unfortunate in their opposition. This was the kind of battle that Mike and his Special Forces team had been trained to do for most of their military career.
Mike couldn’t count on two of the factors continuing. Three days was great, but that was still a limited time for preparation. After tomorrow morning, they wouldn’t have any more prepped traps, other than punji pits scattered throughout the forest. Plus, Mike had to believe that the grey men would adjust their tactics. War was an intensely competitive art that drove men to excel or die. The second option meant that fools didn’t live long, one of the reasons that hereditary officers hadn’t survived into the twenty-first century. Darwinism was a mean ass bitch on the battlefield. If the learning curve was steep for someone, odds were they didn’t live very long.
Two hours later, the team moved into their patrol base. Their backpacks had been left here so that they didn’t have to carry them all day. Jendi pulled security on the patrol base during the day, partially to keep a watch on the equipment, partially to keep him out of harm’s way.
Jendi saw Matki, and stood up quickly to hug his father. The two started talking, and Matki smiled at him and tried to muss his hair. Jendi ducked the move and stepped back out of reach, a grin on his face.
“Looks like you’re getting slow in your old age, Matki,” Everett observed.
Matki grinned, “He got lucky. He’s figured out my tactics.”
“Is he okay?” Mike asked.
Matki nodded, “Yes, he was worried. He heard explosions and gunfire all day.”
Mike smiled, “Tell him it takes more than a couple of hundred armed men to harm his dad.”
Matki relayed this information. Jendi beamed, proud of his father.
They moved into the ring of trees. It was going to be a cold camp, no fire. Two people would stay awake in two hour shifts while the others slept. Matki started talking to Caul and Geonti. They gr
unted around the handfuls of pemmican that they’d stuffed into their mouths. They stood up and moved out into the forest.
Matki motioned at them, “They will take the first shift. Jendi and I will take the second shift.”
Mike nodded, “Tom and I will take the third shift.” He turned to Everett and Mickey. Everett nodded in turn, “Mickey and I will take the fourth shift.”
Matki smiled, “Then we will start all over again, until dawn.”
Mike turned to the team, “I need an ACE report.”
Everett shook his head, “Ammo’s low, I have three magazines left of .308, ninety rounds. Three full magazines of .45 for the Sig. One grenade left. One stick of C4. No Det cord, except what we have in the next ambush. Last Claymore was used. Not injured. Equipment is good.”
Mickey replied next, “Ten rounds of 40mm high explosive, twenty flechette. I have one hundred and three rounds of .308. I have still have three magazines of .45. Two grenades. No injuries. Equipment is good.”
Mike looked at Tom. Tom shook his head, “Sixty-one rounds of .338 Lapua. One hand grenade. Three magazines of .45. No injuries. Equipment is good.”
They were getting extremely low on ammunition. They couldn’t sustain the rate of fire that they’d used against the grey men today.
Mike looked over at Matki, “Matki, we may need to take the ammunition you have for your rifle.”
Matki nodded, “I understand. I work better as a scout for you anyway. Besides, I don’t want to repeat my stand in the fissure.”
Mike laughed low, “Kind of put things in a different light, didn’t it?”
Matki face grew solemn, “I think I am a better hunter than I am a soldier.”
Tom leaned over and gripped his shoulder, “You did real good today, Matki. I know a lot of soldiers that couldn’t have done what you did.”
Matki looked over at Jendi, “Mike, if you don’t mind, I would like Jendi to keep the ammunition for the pistol.”
