Pacific Siege sts-8

by Keith Douglass

  A half-moon cast a suggestion of light over the desert. Here there were occasional tufts of grass, a few cacti, and now and then a low growth that must hug runoff gullies formed when sudden downpours bathed the desert.

  Still a quarter of a mile from the first lights, Lampedusa went down, and the rest of the SEALs dropped into the dirt as well. Murdock met the motorcycle enthusiast halfway. “Some kind of a truck, no lights,” Lam said. “Parked out there about a hundred yards from that last building.”

  “A roving mounted patrol?” Murdock asked.

  “Doubt it. The rig hasn’t moved for five minutes. I’ve been watching it.”

  “Let’s pay your truck a visit.” Murdock turned, and motioned for the rest of the men to stay where they were. In the darkness, the signal went from one man back to the next, until it worked all the way through Second Squad.

  Murdock and Lam bent over, and ran silently toward the truck.

  Murdock saw that it was some type of Russian personnel carrier. It had a machine gun mounted facing forward. The rig was parked so it nosed away from the settlement.

  Without warning, the truck’s headlights blazed a path through the desert night. Murdock and Lam were well out of the beam, but they went to ground and didn’t move. Murdock figured it was two minutes later before the lights snapped off. He had kept his eyes tightly closed during the light show. When he opened his eyes, he found his night vision not affected. He snapped up the NVGs, Night Vision Goggles, and checked the truck.

  He could see a man at the steering wheel, but he wasn’t sure if there was another man in the cab. Murdock motioned, and he and Lam moved to the left to come up more on the side of the rig. Murdock carried his standard-issue weapon, an H&K MP-5SD submachine gun with the stock extension closed. It had been customized for the SEALs with a special stock, handgrip, and safety. It had tritium dots on the sights for night shooting. It could spit out one 9mm round at a time, bursts of three, or full-auto fire.

  The scout carried his usual Colt M-4A 1, a .223-caliber that fired single shots or full automatic at seven hundred rounds per minute. Like all SEAL M-4AI’s, his also had an M203 40mm grenade launcher under the barrel.

  They moved forward in a crouch until they were forty yards from the rig, then went down to a crawl. Cradling weapons across their arms, they went by elbows and knees another fifteen yards. Both weapons carried sound suppressors. Murdock used the NVGs again, nodded, and brought up his H&K. He sighted in and put a three-round burst through the open side window.

  After the silenced burst, the two SEALs came to their feet and charged the small truck. They found two uniformed men in the front seat, both dead. There were no troops in the back.

  Murdock stood and waved the SEALs forward. He had silhouetted himself against the town’s lights. The men came up in formation, and the platoon moved forward.

  Lampedusa knew where the fortified house should be. He checked the buildings, then swung around to the right.

  Murdock figured there couldn’t be more than two hundred inhabitants in the place. The house they wanted was in the second row from the outside. They weren’t blocks exactly, more like cow paths or maybe goat trails.

  Lam went down again to the dirt fifty yards off the first row of buildings, and Murdock crawled up to him.

  “Figure it should be right in there, between these closest two buildings. Looks the same as the satellite pictures we got.”

  Murdock put his NVGs on the slice of territory they could see between buildings. As he watched, he saw an armed guard walking across the area.

  “Must be it, they have sentries out.” He touched his lip mike.

  “Dewitt, up here.” They hadn’t worked out the final assault on the place because there wasn’t enough intel. Now they would parcel out the assignments.

  Murdock and Dewitt talked for three minutes; then Murdock moved ahead with the First Squad. There were no people on the streets. There were streetlights only every two hundred yards. None shone on this area.

  First Squad slid between the buildings, which looked like commercial enterprises, and spread out along a narrow street that fronted the target house. It sat twenty yards in back of the avenue, and had a stone wall around it that was only three feet high. The house itself had two stories, was made of stone and mortar, and looked sturdy.

  Ed Dewitt brought his men up, and sent half of them to each side of the house between buildings, and wherever they could find an open field of fire against the house.

  The guard Murdock had seen before came again, evidently walking a circuit around the house. He carried a rifle over his shoulder, and walked at a leisurely pace as if thinking about what he would do when he got off duty.

  They waited. Another guard came out of the shadows, and talked with the rover, then went back where he had been. Now, with the NVGs, Murdock could see him. Murdock searched other shaded areas, and found another front guard.

  “Dewitt. Check for fixed guards on the sides. We’ve found two out here.”

  “Roger that.”

  Murdock pointed to Bill Bradford, the new sniper for the First Squad with his H&K PSG 1. It fired a 7.62 NATO round from the high-precision sniping rifle. He had a 20-round magazine, a long, heavy barrel, and a pistol grip at the trigger. It had a fully adjustable stock, a 6 x 24 telescope, and a sound suppressor.

  Bradford lifted the rifle, and looked through the scope. The light-gathering properties brought the target into clear focus. He checked the first hidden sentry, then zeroed in on him and fired. He shot just once, then moved to the other sentry and cut him down with one round.

  “Take ‘ down if you got ‘, Ed,” Murdock whispered into his mike. He heard two muffled rounds from the side, then silence.

  “Ready to go,” Ed said on the Motorola.

  Before Murdock could move, three floodlights snapped on, bathing the whole front of the house and the yard with light.

  “Do them,” Murdock said. Ten silenced shots whispered into the night. All the floodlights died from hot lead.

  “Move it, First Squad,” Murdock said into his mike, and the eight men lifted up and stormed the front of the house. They took gunfire from firing ports and out the windows.

  Seven of the SEALs blasted through the twenty yards, and slammed against the house. One man was down. Murdock ran back and grabbed him, and then ran forward, half dragging Ron Holt to the wall.

  “Caught one in the left arm, Commander. Sorry.”

  As they talked, Kenneth Ching, Quartermaster’s Mate First Class, had pasted two globs of TNAZ plastic explosive on the house’s front-door hinges. He set timers and looked at Murdock, who gave him a thumbs-up.

  Ching pulled out the activating switches. Then he ducked under a window, and rushed away fifteen yards along the house.

  The twin explosions came almost on top of each other. Doc Ellsworth, Hospital Corpsman First Class, got to the blown-in door first, and tossed in a flash-bang grenade. He dodged to the wall beside the door, shielded his eyes, and held his hands over his ears. The series of sharp, powerful, but non-lethal explosions erupted inside the room coupled with six brilliant strobe lights. Both light and sound blasted out the open doorway.

  When the last strobe faded, Murdock and Doc Ellsworth pulled down their NVGs and jolted through the door. Murdock took the right side, and Doc the left part of the room.

  Doc blasted his MP-5 twice. The two bursts of three rounds cut down two Iraqis on his side of the room. Murdock had no targets.

  “Clear one,” Murdock said as he and Doc charged to a door at the other side of the room. They hit the wall next to the door, and Murdock threw a flash-bang grenade inside. The screeching, pulsating sound roared through the room as the series of brilliant strobe lights flashed through the doorway. The two SEALs waited flat against the wall on both sides of the open door.

  As soon as the last strobe faded, the two charged into the room.

  No one was inside. The third room was to the left. They hit it with one more flas
h-bang grenade, then jolted through the door, their MP-5’s ready. Murdock cut one kidnapper in half with a fully automatic burst from his weapon. The man’s face showed surprise as he dropped the knife he was about to throw, and he crumpled to the floor dead.

  Doc put a burst of three 9mm rounds into the second Iraqi, who still held his hands over his ears. The kidnapper took the rounds in his chest, slammed backwards against the wall, and slid down slowly, leaving a wide red smear.

  There were no more Iraqis in the room. There also was no hostage.

  “Where the hell is he?” Murdock asked.

  Doc shook his head. They had cleared all the rooms in the house.

  There was no kidnap victim.

  “Pull back, Second Squad, pull back to the desert. We need some recon. We’re right behind you.”

  2

  Tuesday, 9 January

  El Raza’s House

  Osadi, Iraq

  Murdock motioned to Doc, and they eased out of the house. The explosions that had ripped open the door evidently had attracted no attention. They saw no one, no lights or vehicles.

  As silent as sixteen wisps of smoke, the SEALs exfiltrated from the area back into the desert, and hit the dirt facing the small town.

  “He wasn’t there,” Murdock told Dewitt. “No fucking hostage, just some Arabs who looked surprised as hell that they were dying. Jaybird, get up here.” Jaybird slid in beside the two officers. “Any other intel on this town?”

  “Not much. The house was our target. They said something about a military HQ El Raza uses. It’s at the other end of the town, maybe six hundred yards north.”

  “Best bet we have,” Dewitt said. “Hope to hell we don’t have to search every building in this little place.”

  “The HQ sounds good,” Murdock said. “Let’s get on our horses and move up there. We know nothing about the building?”

  “Afraid so, Commander. Be a good time for a guided tour.”

  “This is turning out tougher than they told us,” Murdock said. “So what’s new. Jaybird. Find Douglas, and tell him to take Gonzales with him and go back and see if that truck we passed will run. If it will, have them drive it into the desert and come up beside us here about a quarter of a mile out. We might need it fast. Have them keep pace with us as we move. Go.

  ““Ed, let’s go up the hill here and find that HQ. It should be the biggest building in the town. At least we hope it is. You keep your squad outside ours as we go north. When we get there we’ll recon the building, and see what we need to do. If that kidnapped guy isn’t there, I don’t know what the hell comes next.”

  “Guns Franklin,” Dewitt said. “He speaks Arabic and Farsi. We grab ourselves a prisoner and let him talk to live.”

  “Good. Let’s move.”

  First Squad walked silently north along the outskirts of the small town. The road in back of the houses outlined the community and kept everyone inside. They walked a half mile, then hit the dirt and checked the area. Murdock and Lampedusa went past the buildings inside the town to see if they could find a large building.

  They moved silently from shadow to shadow. Past the first row of houses, the area changed. Here there was a central open area, as if it could have been a market at one time. At the far end stood a building larger than the others, but of the same stone and mortar construction.

  Murdock and Lampedusa studied the area for five minutes. They saw no one move. There were no guards around the building. They could see none on the roof or in what looked like a small guardhouse near what appeared to be the front double doors.

  “A church, a mosque?” Lampedusa asked.

  Murdock shook his head. “No minaret, no tower with small balconies, which is always attached to a mosque.”

  “So, maybe it’s the HQ.”

  “Let’s go and see.”

  They darted from one bit of cover to the next, keeping near the smaller buildings to the side of the open area. When they came to the front of the large building, they found a Russian-built weapons carrier parked and facing outward. A heavy machine gun, maybe a .50-caliber, perched on a mount.

  The two SEALs nodded, faded to the side, and went around the place.

  Two windows near the back showed lights. At the back of the building they found six armored personnel carriers that had to be Russian-made.

  They also spotted a fuel dump of 55-gallon barrels, and a concrete-block building that could hold ammunition and weapons.

  “Make a nice bonfire,” Lampedusa said.

  “If it comes to that. Easy in, easy out. But that doesn’t look like it’s going to happen. Let’s bring up the platoon and take a look inside. Might be troops in there, and officers and maybe a kidnapped hostage.”

  Five minutes later, they found the platoon lurking fifty yards outside the perimeter road. The truck they had liberated growled along in the desert beyond them.

  Murdock told the men the situation.

  “We know about three doors. Front, back, and side. There may be another door on the far side. We’ll go in the back door, since the lights are in that area. I’ll go in with two men from Second Squad.

  First Squad and the rest of Second will back us up covering the side doors and the front.

  “We’ll use silencers and knives whenever possible. We don’t want to roust out El Raza’s whole army. Our only objective is to find this hostage and get him out of here. Bring in Franklin and his helper from the truck. We need all the guns we have. Let’s move.”

  Murdock chose Quinley and Washington for his assault team, and moved up on the rear door, past the silent weapons and personnel carriers and the fuel dump. Murdock held up for five minutes watching for a guard, but none showed. He and Fred Washington darted to the rear door and tried it. Unlocked. He turned the knob, and opened the panel an inch. No lights showed inside.

  Murdock, and two men, slid into the room. It was a storage area, holding various goods. He had on his NVGs, and found a door across the ten-foot-wide room. Unlocked.

  He opened it two inches. Faint light showed beyond.

  Murdock switched his MP-5 to three-round burst, and stepped inside.

  It was a supply room loaded with uniforms, rations, ammunition, and other goods. A single work light burned overhead.

  The men found two doors. Lights showed under both of them.

  Murdock opened one and stepped inside. Three uniformed men worked over a radio panel. Murdock’s three-round burst put down two of them.

  Another three rounds from Les Quinley’s silenced H&K G-11 nailed the other one.

  Another door showed ahead. Murdock moved to it. Washington opened it, and they both looked in. It was a barracks, with twenty men sleeping on double-decker bunks. The silenced shots had not awakened them. Washington eased the door closed, and they moved to the next one.

  Beyond this door, opened a long hallway. There were six doors leading off it. At the far end, sat a sentry at a desk. He was either sleeping or reading. Murdock switched his subgun to single-shot, and fired twice. The guard jolted back against the wall, and then slumped off the chair to the floor.

  Murdock and Quinley ran to the guard as Washington covered their backs. The guard was dead. They checked the first door. An office.

  The second showed a storeroom. The third door opened onto a pair of cells. Two men were in one, three in the other.

  “Any of you speak English?” Murdock asked. One man looked up quickly. “I do. Who are you?”

  “Are you Fayd Salwa?” Murdock asked.

  “Yes. Are you Americans?”

  “Right, we’re taking you home,” Quinley said. He looked at the lock on the door. A small key chain hung on a nail near the door. He grabbed it, tried two keys. The third one unlocked the cell. He opened the other cell as well, and ushered all the prisoners out. They saw the open door and ran.

  Tears brimmed Salwa’s eyes as he grabbed Murdock in a bear hug. “I have prayed to Allah to rescue me, but I never thought it would happen.”

/>   Murdock touched his lip mike. “I have the package. We’re coming out.” Just as he said it they heard automatic-rifle fire in the hallway. Murdock peered around the door frame from floor level, and saw three men in military uniforms moving down the hall, checking rooms as they came.

  He pushed his MP-5 around the door frame, jolted out so he could see, and sprayed the advancing guards with three triple-round bursts.

  All the soldiers went down. One crawled toward his dropped rifle. A burst of rounds from Quinley’s G-11 put him down and dead.

  “Which way out?” Murdock asked Salwa.

  “I don’t know. They only brought me here tonight. I’d like to have a weapon. I was in the army, I can use one.”

  Murdock gave him the Mark 23 0 pistol off his belt. Salwa chambered a round and pushed on the safety.

  “Let’s try to the left, past where the guard used to be,” Quinley said.

  Murdock agreed. “Those sleeping men back the other way must be awake now after that rifle fire.”

  Murdock talked to his Motorola again. “Ed, we’ve got some bad guys shooting in here. Create a diversion outside, the side entrance, and the back. Keep them busy. We’ll try to get out.”

  “Roger that. How about a nice gasoline fire back here?”

  Murdock took the lead. Salwa was in the middle with Washington, and Quinley bringing up the rear. They ran past the three bodies, and to the end of the hall where the guard lay dead.

  A connecting hall went both ways. Murdock chose the right-hand one, and had gone only a dozen steps when two soldiers came around a bend in the hall. Murdock brought up his MP-5 and got off three rounds.

  Salwa right behind him fired four times, and the two soldiers went down.

  The three SEALs and Salwa ran toward them. One of the soldiers lifted up with his AK-47. Before he could fire, Salwa put a .45 round in his head. The man slammed backwards as brains and blood splattered against the wall.

  Murdock waved his thanks at Salwa, and they ran on. The corridor dead-ended at a double door. Salwa shrugged. Murdock tried the door.