Ambush sts-15

by Keith Douglass

  “DeWitt, are you on the road?”

  “No, having trouble getting Ostercamp moved. He’s worse than we thought. We’re just past the road in the edge of the jungle.”

  “Still coming,” Lam said. “My guess about twenty armed men with all their equipment jingling.”

  In the soft Philippine moonlight, Murdock soon saw the men approaching. They were soldiers in a column of fours with their weapons at port and ready. They were less than forty yards away.

  “Open fire,” Murdock said. He had no idea what a 20mm round would do at point-blank range, but he was going to find out.

  14

  Eight SEALs opened fire on the formation. The first three 20mm rounds slammed into the unsuspecting rebels, exploding instantly, shredding the green-uniformed men into masses of bloody corpses.

  “Hold fire on the twenties,” Murdock shouted into his mike. The remnants of the rebel formation charged away down the road and into the jungle to escape the SEALs’ continuing small-arms fire. Murdock had switched his Bull Pup to 5.56-round and kept firing. Five or six of the men might have escaped. The rest were down and dead or dying. Screams of agony cascaded over the SEALs from the wounded on the roadway forty yards in front of them.

  “Leave them,” Murdock barked in his radio. He tried to listen through the cries.

  “Murdock, that you?” DeWitt called on the radio.

  “Small firefight. How is Ostercamp?”

  “Not good. We’re carrying him. He’s a load. Ten minutes to the end of the town where you should be.”

  “Roger that. I’m sending Lam to run up to the chopper and move him as close as possible to us here. Keep coming. We’ve got some carrying help here.”

  Murdock looked at Lam. “Leave your vest and your Colt. Trade with Jaybird for his MP-5. Five miles to the chopper. You can do that in forty minutes. Be sure to call out your ID before you bust in on those Filipino Army guys. Pick out a new LZ on your run up there. Close as you can come to us here. We’ll be on the trail, but moving slow with Ostercamp. Go.”

  Jaybird had run up with his weapon, and traded and took Lam’s combat vest as well.

  “Howard and Jaybird, go back down-trail and find DeWitt and help with Ostercamp. Go.”

  Five minutes later, Jaybird came on the radio. “Found Bravo Squad. We’re about three hundred yards downstream from you and moving.”

  Ten minutes later the platoon was together again. Mahanani talked to Murdock.

  “He’s hit bad in the chest. Bleeding too much. I stopped most of it, but we’ve got to get him to a hospital soon as we can.”

  “Lam’s going for the chopper,” Murdock said. “This time we didn’t leave a Motorola with the chopper pilot.”

  “Howard took him when he got there,” Mahanani said. “He’s a good man. I’ll take Ostercamp again. We’re going pickaback with him. Best way so far. You and Sadler and Bradford can spell us off. We better move now.”

  They went down to the trail and hiked along at the speed of the one carrying Ostercamp. Murdock put out Jaybird as lead scout, and DeWitt served as rear guard back twenty yards. Murdock figured they were making about three miles an hour.

  Lam dug down the last mile and tried to go faster. He’d spotted a good LZ about a mile from where he’d left the other SEALs. Now all he had to do was identify and contact. He checked his watch. He’d been gone for almost thirty-five minutes. Seven minutes to a mile, so he should be almost there.

  Then he was there. He paused behind a huge mahogany tree and whistled, then called out. “Hey, Army. SEALs here. Don’t shoot. Coming in. Okay?”

  “Okay, SEALs, come on in.”

  After that it took only thirty seconds to get the Army men in the chopper, the blades whirling, and the engines warmed up. The pilot was told about the wounded man.

  Lam tried the Motorola. “Skipper, we’re taking off in about ten seconds. See you there in nine or ten minutes.”

  “Read you, Lam, soft and breaking up, but read you.”

  “Straight down the river and the new LZ is on the same side,” Lam told the pilot.

  “This kid shot up bad?” the pilot asked.

  “Yeah, chest, lots of blood. He needs a good doctor, fast.”

  They lifted off, and only a few minutes later Lam pointed down.

  “That’s it. No rebels around there when I came past.”

  The Army men hovered at the two open doors, their submachine guns ready. Wheels touched, and the Army men and Lam jumped to the ground and sprinted away from the bird. Lam headed down the trail. He found the platoon two hundred yards away. Murdock had Ostercamp on his back as he plodded forward.

  Howard came up and relieved him.

  “Hey, Commander, you look fucked out, my turn,” Howard said. Murdock made the transfer, took a deep breath, and looked at the troops. “The rest of you, double time up to the chopper and get everyone on board. I want to stay here for rear guard. Go.”

  A hundred yards from the clearing, Bradford took over the packhorse duties, and then gently laid Ostercamp on the floor of the forty-six.

  Murdock counted heads. “Let’s fly, Captain,” he shouted. The bird lifted off with no enemy fire, and Murdock collapsed against the thin skin of the helicopter.

  “Pilot says forty minutes to the airfield,” DeWitt said. Mahanani worked on Ostercamp. He had the bleeding stopped, and now put two blankets from the chopper on him.

  “Keep his head up,” the medic said. “We don’t want him to go into shock. Stay with us, Ostercamp. I’ve never lost a patient yet, and you sure as hell ain’t going to be my first.”

  Ostercamp gave him a thin grin, and closed his eyes. “Damn, but that hurts.”

  Mahanani injected another ampoule of morphine into Ostercamp’s arm, and Ostercamp nodded.

  Later, De Witt came back and touched the medic’s sleeve. “Pilot says we’re twenty minutes out. How’s he doing?”

  “Can’t tell. He’s breathing ragged, so he’s got some lung damage. Don’t know about internal bleeding. Missed his gut, I think, but no way of knowing if the slug broke up inside. He’s conscious and talking, which is good. He’s gonna make it, j.g. I don’t let none of my guys cash in. Not on my fucking watch.”

  DeWitt slapped him on the back and went back to the cabin up front.

  Murdock had checked. There were no other wounded. One was too damn many. Ostercamp would be out of action.

  “Did you see those fucking twenties hit that formation?” Bradford asked. “I saw one hit and it blew this rebel into twenty pieces. No lie. One round must have taken out twenty of them, and they got three rounds. Then we pulled back to the five-five-six. Damn. Those twenties are just plain murder against a formation of troops.”

  “What were the shitheads doing in formation after their home base was attacked?” Jaybird asked. “They were a bunch of stupid assholes who will never make that mistake again.”

  The power changed and the rotors slowed a little as the big bird made a gentle turn and then settled down on the pad at the airfield. The pilot had called, and an ambulance waited twenty feet away. By the time the wheels touched the ground, a gurney had been rolled up and four medics and doctors waited. Mahanani and Howard picked up Ostercamp’s 210-pound body and gently put him on the rolling stretcher.

  DeWitt took over the platoon, and Murdock went in the ambulance. He’d shucked out of his combat vest and given it and his Bull Pup to Lam.

  The ambulance used siren and lights as it streaked through the night traffic to a civilian hospital on the edge of Davao. At the emergency entrance, they tried to keep Murdock out, but one look at his worried and determined countenance and they let him go in.

  He stood outside the emergency mini-operating room as two residents and two doctors worked over Ostercamp. They did some preliminary work, hung some fluids and stabilized him, and rolled him to an elevator to take him to surgery.

  Two hours later, Murdock stood as a pair of doctors came into the waiting room outside the
operating rooms.

  “Commander?”

  “Yes, about Ostercamp?”

  “The young man is out of danger. He took a round high in his chest and it cut through his left lung, but we’ve repaired that and removed the bullet. It didn’t shatter, so we got it all. There’s some more minor damage, but the internal bleeding was minimal and his lung will heal as good as new. He won’t be going on any long hikes or swimming for at least three months.”

  Murdock shook the man’s hand, then looked down at his own dirty hands and jungle-filthy clothes. Couldn’t be helped.

  “Thanks, Doctor. He’s an important man in our operation. We thank you.”

  When Murdock walked out of the hospital, a young Filipino Air Force man came up to him.

  “Commander Murdock?” Blake nodded. “I’m here to drive you back to your quarters, courtesy of General Domingo.”

  “Thanks. Tell the general that I really appreciate it, and that our wounded man is going to be all right.”

  By the time the airman had driven Murdock back to the barracks/meeting room, most of the SEALs had showered and hit their bunks. He had no idea what time it was. When he looked at his watch, he was surprised that it was only 0135.

  DeWitt hurried over, a question on his tired face.

  “Yeah, Ostercamp’s going to make it. Should recover fully.” Murdock told DeWitt what the doctor had told him.

  “Good, but for three months I want a temporary replacement,” DeWitt said. “A warm body to fill in the slot. We need him for training. Of course that’s after we get back to the States. By then I may need half a new squad, or maybe the squad will need a new squad leader.”

  “You can’t give up on me now, hotshot,” Murdock said.

  “Just my out-of-gas brain talking,” DeWitt said. “We hurt them bad out there tonight, but we’re not a bit closer to finding the hostages.”

  “Our best hope now is that General Domingo can tie down some good intel on the camps. For sixty people it would have to be a big camp. I was hoping that one we hit was it.”

  Murdock yawned. He shook his head and looked at the showers in the latrine area. Yes. Now. Tomorrow he would talk to General Domingo about the hostages. Maybe he had some new information or ideas where they could be hiding the hostages.

  * * *

  The next morning at 0830, General Domingo put in a call for Murdock. He went to the general’s office with DeWitt, Senior Chief Sadler, Jaybird, and Juan. The general frowned a moment as he looked at the team.

  “I understand you do much of your planning and attack workups by committee. I’ve never seen enlisted men on this level before, but if it works for you, fine. Now, I’ve had a sketchy report about your mission last night. Could you fill me in with the particulars?”

  Murdock motioned to Lieutenant Juan Ejercito. He gulped once and then gave a precise report about their recon, the attack itself, and the approximate number of casualties inflicted on the rebels.

  “Pardon me, Lieutenant, but you say you believe that you killed or wounded over one hundred rebels?”

  “Yes, sir. Some of them were undoubtedly raw recruits, but they had weapons and fired at us. We think we closed down for all practical purposes the training camp there at the town, which we hear is called Bunga.”

  “Any contact with the hostages?”

  “No, sir, we found nothing to indicate they were there on the recon I made through the town, or when we attacked. We believe the hostages are not being held at Bunga.”

  Murdock spoke up. “Sir, we didn’t do a house-by-hut search, but if they had hostages there, we believe there would have been a good-sized guard force around them. We saw no such force, and the buildings we burned were manned and guarded by only a few of the rebels.”

  The general nodded and sipped at a cup of coffee. He put it down, then smiled. “Gentlemen, would you like some coffee?” They all declined, and he took another drink. “Lately I’ve been living on the stuff.” The general turned to the Filipino lieutenant.

  “Ejercito, you were named to be liaison with the SEALs by the colonel. I checked that out, meaning I went over your record with a magnifying glass. Your CO was right. I liked what I saw. And since your CO had to fight to get you on this detail, I like it even more. You’ll stay. Can’t say the same for Master Sergeant Estrada. He’s been shipped back to his outfit and reduced in rank. We found several questionable contacts with people associated with the rebels. I’ll send you a new man.” The general looked at the SEALs. “None of you seem surprised.”

  “Estrada was in my squad, General,” DeWitt said. “I found no fault with him in camp or in the fighting. He performed well.”

  “But when might he betray you or a mission?” the general asked. He went on. “We have what we think is a significant break. Some of our agents working the far west coast of the island have been contacted by a family whose son was executed for trying to leave the rebel cause. They were bitter and had a lot to say that their son had told them. He had been on the hostage guard detail. The parents of the dead boy, who was just past seventeen, told us where the hostages were held for a time and where they were moved.”

  The general went to the large-scale wall map and pointed. He indicated a section that seemed to be in an area where there were no roads.

  “The west coast. The closest town of any size is Lebak. This area is well north of that and from what we can tell, up this river that runs down from the range of mountains that make up the western part of the island. From what our source says, there are about fifty guards at this location. It was well prepared in advance, with soldiers carrying heavy loads on packboards hiking up the trails from the seacoast and from the short distance up the river that could be navigated by flat-bottomed boats.

  “Evidently they had built the housing for the hostages, provided food and bunks and clothing for those who needed it. It is from there that those who have been released were taken to Lebak, and sent by boat here to Davao, where they could catch air transportation home.”

  “When can we go in, General?” Murdock asked.

  “Probably the sooner the better. If we take the time to set up a military maneuver in the area, the rebels will hear about it and might scatter the hostages.”

  “General, sir. How far from here to Lebak?” Jaybird asked.

  The general pointed to one of his aides.

  “Straight across the mountains, it’s about a hundred and twenty-five miles,” a captain with pilot wings on his shirt said. “To the camp itself we think it’s about a hundred and ten miles. That’s at a different angle. The distance from Lebak to the suspected hostage area is thirty miles up the coast road and then about six miles on a trail up the side of the mountains. This road up is supposed to be good enough for a jeep.”

  Jaybird turned to Murdock. “Sir, that’s well within the turnaround range of the forty-six. There and back to Davao with no added fuel.”

  “How many hostages can we get into a CH-46?” the general asked.

  Jaybird nodded. “Sir, we can put twenty-five combat troops in the bird, so thirty civilians wouldn’t be unreasonable. I understand there are only fifty-two hostages now.”

  “Yes, that was right yesterday,” said the general. “Amsterdam came through with some more cash and three more of the Dutch tourists are now free. So we’re dealing with forty-nine, if they are all alive.”

  “Sir, it’s not yet 1000,” Murdock said. “We can be ready for a mission tonight. We’d need to leave here about 1910 for a 2000 landing. Do we have any intel about possible landing zones in the area?”

  “None. We could send a Super Saber over there to check out LZs, but that would only alert them that we know where they are.”

  “If there’s no LZs, we can always rope down,” Murdock said. “Then, after we capture the compound, we’ll find an LZ tonight or in the morning with daylight. We’ll tell the birds which. How much circling time would they have, Jaybird, before they need to fly back to Davao?”

 
Jaybird scowled for a moment, then nodded. “Two-hundred-fifty-mile round trip off a four-hundred-and-twenty-mile range. That leaves them another hour to cruise around before heading back.”

  “What about long-range radio?” Murdock asked. “We have only five-mile-range units.”

  “You can talk to the chopper, he can relay,” the general said.

  “But when the chopper goes back to Davao, how do we contact him to come back and get us?” DeWitt asked.

  The general frowned for a moment. “We can put a portable radio in the chopper for you to take with you. It’s on the same band as the chopper and can communicate over two hundred miles. You pick it up as you exit the chopper and you’ll be able to talk directly with us here at Davao, or with the chopper.”

  “Good, that covers one problem,” Murdock said.

  An aide came in and handed the general a slip of paper. He read it. “Gentlemen, your new man to replace Sergeant Estrada has been selected. He’s Sergeant Pablo Kalibo, one of our best. He’s checked in at your compound.”

  “We should get cracking on our attack plan,” Murdock said.

  “Good, Commander. There are a few other elements you need to know about. You can have anything on the base that we can furnish you as before. We’ll have the longer-range radios on the choppers to communicate here with the base. The other item may surprise you, but it’s a firm decision and set in concrete and there is no way to change it. I’ll be going on the strike with you.”

  15

  Davao Air Base

  Davao, Mindanao, Philippines

  Murdock turned toward the general. “But sir, this is a highly dangerous field operation. My men train year-round to climb ropes and swim and run twenty miles a day.”

  “Commander, last week I ran a marathon, three hours and twenty-two minutes. Every morning before breakfast I do a hundred sit-ups and then a hundred push-ups. I might not be in as good a shape as your men, but I can handle my end of things. Commander, I was an enlisted man for six years. I came up through the ranks. I fought the old bunch of guerrillas for five years. I’ve been bloodied more times than I can remember. My younger brother and his wife died in a rebel terrorist bombing three years ago. I was sent here to help end this reign of terror, and I fully intend to go and help you.”