Jack Terral - Seals (2005)

An exchange of gunfire sent bullets zipping over his body, but by then Bashar Abzai was unaware of what went on around his mortal remains.

CHAD Murchison and Milly Mills were sent back to the ammo dump next to the CP to pick up loads of ammunition to pass out on the perimeter. As they gathered the munitions, they could see the two hostages Ibrahim and Hajji huddled together back in the Skipper's camouflaged area.

Chad nodded to them. "How're you chaps doing?" Ibrahim forced a grin. "Oh, we are doing fine. Thank you for asking."

"You are winning the battle, are you not?" Hajji inquired in a worried tone.

"Piece of cake," Milly said.

"No, thank you," Ibrahim said, misunderstanding what the American meant. "We are not being hungry at this moment."

Chad laughed and winked at the other SEAL. "C'mon, Milly, we must hurry."

They ran awkwardly under the weight of rucksacks stuffed with bandoleers of 5.56-millimeter ammunition and the extra HE grenades for Connie Concord and Bruno Puglisi. They skirted the perimeter, then split up going to their respective squads to drop off ammo for each man. When Chad reached Connie, he handed over the M-203 ammo. Connie happily took the explosives, asking, "What about the mortars? Has the Skipper said anything about 'em?"

Chad shook his head. "Nope. He only said to fetch some more grenades for the M-203s."

"Well," Connie said. "Me and Bruno wouldn't have time to zero 'em in anyhow."

Chad hurried over to the rock stand shared by the Odd Couple Mike Assad and David Leibowitz. Each took three bandoleers, placing them beside his firing position. "There's gonna be a long line at the gates to Muslim heaven today," Mike commented.

"Yeah," Dave said, "but them guys are gonna be disappointed. I got it on good authority that instead of seventy virgins, they'll get one virgin seventy years old."

Chad laughed, then hurried away when fresh volleys of fire came from down below. The Skipper was set up slightly behind the rifle positions, and he had called for Jim Cruiser and both chief petty officers to join him. He looked at Cruiser. "Give me a quick SITREP for Second Squad."

Cruiser, still panting a bit from running over from his position, replied, "The assault is slowing down noticeably. They're taking on a hell of a lot more casualties now that they've drawn closer. I think we've broken the back of the attack?'

Senior Chief Buford Dawkins nodded. "Same with us, sir. Their firing is growing sporadic. It builds up real quick-like then peters out. There's also some periods when we get no incoming a'tall. But I don't think them dumb bastards has figured out they're starting to beat they heads against a brick wall."

"Okay," Brannigan said. "Get back to your guys and tell 'em to turn it up a notch. Maybe we can wrap this thing up within the next half hour."

THE mujahideen were out of steam. With high casualties and their ammunition running low, all the religious ardor they brought to the battle was fading with their energy and confidence. Most of them were no longer firing as they huddled behind bits of cover provided by the rocks and brush.

Fire from above began to build up until bullets slapped the air and kicked up dirt around them in what seemed a constant fusillade. The temporary encouragement brought on by the proclamation of a jihad continued to rapidly wane as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

One man suddenly leaped up and began running down the hillside. He kept going, gaining speed until he was out of range of the infidels. Another followed him. Then another, then a dozen, then more, until all the survivors ran for their lives, stumbling and staggering as they tried to make it down the hill. They leaped over their dead and wounded, only wanting to get out of the kill zone.

Warlord Ayyub Durtami watched impassively at the deterioration of his fighting force. He knew deep in his heart that he, his fighters and fiefdom were things of the past. None of this existed anymore. Ahmet Kharani, ever loyal, walked over and took his warlord by the sleeve. "Amin we must go. The men will soon be climbing this ridge to get to the other side. We must get back to the fortress to make our plans."

Durtami took a deep breath. "That will not require much time, Brother Ahmet. I think we both know what we must do now."

"Yes," Kharani said. "It is best that you seek out your brother-in-law and put yourself and all of us under his authority. He leads a great force with many weapons."

Durtami pulled his arm free, turning to walk down the other side of the ridge.

ALL along the defensive line, the SEALs stood up to watch the disintegrating mujahideen force as it melted away from the battle. Brannigan walked forward to stand on a rocky outcrop that offered a good view. The rag dolls were now scattered thickly down the ridge, most lying still in death, while the wounded moved slightly in the shock and agony of their injuries.

Brannigan walked over to Alpha Fire Team's position and yelled for Frank Gomez. The radioman hurried over to report to the commanding officer. "Yes, sir?"

"Give me your message pad, Frank."

"Aye, sir," Frank said, handing it over.

Brannigan took out a ballpoint pen and began writing in it. "We've got to get a quick SITREP back to Station Bravo in Bahrain," he said as he scribbled the message. "I'm curious as to what else they have for us to do around here."

Frank shrugged. "I hope they're gonna want to get those two hostages out of here, sir. They're a couple of useless mouths for us to feed:'

Brannigan continued to write.

Chapter 10

THE ROAD

20 AUGUST

DAWN LOCAL

THE convoy was colorful, noisy, diverse and filled with panic and the loud buzzing and chugging of engines. Vans, pickup trucks, motor-rickshaws and motorbikes made up the formation of travelers. Each was overloaded with people and possessions that made it dangerously top heavy as it rocked back and forth on the bucolic thoroughfare that led them all north to safety.

This was the entire band of Warlord Durtami abandoning their homes, compound and dead male relatives scattered on the eastern slopes of West Ridge. The widows and orphans of the slain mujahideen had been taken in by relatives for this exodus that was spurred on by unadulterated terror. In many cases old men who had years before surrendered their paternal authority to sons and grandsons were once again the masters of their families. The male descendents who died in the battle attacking West Ridge left behind widows and orphans to be taken care of by these dismayed grandfathers. A once settled and secure population had changed from permanent residents of a stable community to homeless refugees in only a matter of hours.

Rampant rumors of the imminent appearance of baby-eating demons who lusted for sex with human women ran through the throng of fleeing people. Those invincible servants of Satan were expected to appear at any moment and fall on the convoy in a frenzy of raping murder and child-devouring.

The fault for this calamity was laid on residents of the compound who were thought to be less devout toward Islam than the more righteous followers of the community. Surely these neighbors' irreverence was what brought Allah's wrath down on the people. This overwhelming fear, generated by a combination of religious myth and folklore, gave impetus to the people's terror. If it weren't for those sinners, their lives would have continued as before. But instead, they now ran like rabbits while mourning the deaths of most of their young men.

A special group of vehicles that included a Russian UAZ sedan led the way. This vehicle had been used by the murdered bodyguards of the lost hostages. It was now part of the entourage and families of Warlord Ayyub Durtami and his chief lieutenant Ahmet Kharani. Their vehicles were the best maintained of the whole group, and the distance between them and the common people increased rapidly as the exodus continued.