Jack Terral - Seals (2005)

"What about Adam Clifford?" Mike asked.

"We always bring our dead and wounded out," Brannigan said. "But we're not keeping one foot in the water like we used to. We'll have to note the burial site and come back for him."

"Or have someone else do the job," Dave commented. "Damn shame," Mike said glumly.

The three fell into silence as the noise of helicopters ascending into the sky suddenly came from the other side of East Ridge. Within moments all three choppers rose into view over the mountain, turning north.

"Well, there they go again," Mike said, "to pick up another twenty or thirty assholes for us to shoot at."

"And to fire back at us," Dave pointed out.

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26 AUGUST

0230 HOURS LOCAL

THE platoon was on 50 percent alert, and Chad Murchison and Bruno Puglisi had been assigned to the OP for the mid-watch. Bruno was asleep while Chad took his turn keeping an eye on things. The night vision device gave him the usual eerie green-white environment to gaze into, and he studied the terrain in front of him with an intensity brought on by the heavy helicopter activity the day before. It was a sure sign that the local situation was going to liven up quite a bit.

Chad had been able to get up a bit higher since it was dark, and he had an excellent view of the boulders and vegetation that swept out and down from the position. Suddenly a stone clicked as if it had been dislodged or accidentally kicked against another one. The SEAL instinctively brought his CAR-15 up as his eyes scanned the terrain in front of him. The disturbance could have come from a jackal who had come back to see if there was anything left to eat on the bones of the dead mujahideen scattered down the slope of the ridge.

A movement to the right caught the SEAL's attention. A moment later he saw the crouching figure of a mujahideen who had evidently just stopped. The guy wore no night vision equipment, so he was working in the deep darkness under a severe handicap. Yet his ability to be silent impressed Chad as he once again began moving upward. The man carefully put his foot down to test the ground in front of him before placing his full weight on it. Then he repeated the movement with the opposite foot while sweeping his eyes in short jerks to see as well as possible in the night's blackness.

Chad thought first of trying to take him prisoner, but that wasn't feasible. He would have to go out to get him and that could bring him in contact with the guy's buddies. So he did the next best thing. He raised the CAR-15 to his shoulder, aimed and fired.

The mujahideen doubled over like he had been mule-kicked in the stomach, then fell to the rocks. There was no return fire, and the sounds of the enemy patrol withdrawing could be heard. They were moving as cautiously and as rapidly as they dared.

Now Puglisi was wide awake. He joined Chad to add his firepower in case of an attack, but now there was nothing but the night's natural silence. Moments later Lieutenants Bill Brannigan and Jim Cruiser appeared at the OP. "What the hell happened?" the Skipper asked.

"Enemy recon patrol, sir," Chad said. "I got one guy that was getting too close. After I fired, I could hear the rest of them making a rapid descent down the slope toward the valley."

Brannigan looked down at the corpse sprawled only a few scant meters away. "The guy is wearing a camouflage uniform and his face is painted. No extra noisemaking gear on him."

"Obviously a reconnaissance," Cruiser commented. "And they broke contact and withdrew just like a recon patrol is supposed to when contact with the enemy is inadvertently made."

"Shit," Brannigan said. "You know what, guys? We're facing some disciplined troops here."

"Obviously," Cruiser agreed. "It would seem the rules of the game have changed."

"But not to our advantage," Brannigan said dryly.

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WARLORD DURTAMI'S FORMER COMPOUND

DAWN LOCAL

THE patrol leader squatted in front of Major Karim Malari, who was seated on his Soviet Army--issue groundsheet. Both sipped from cups filled with dudh chai tea as the subordinate made his report to the field commander.

"We were able to go completely around the infidels' defensive perimeter, Major," the patrol leader said. "Allah was not with my point man. He stumbled on a rock and was shot dead on the spot. We withdrew without further casualties."

"What was the result of your reconnaissance?"

"I estimate they are no more than a platoon force of forty men at the very most," the patrol leader said. "They are in a circle defensive formation that runs around the entire top of the ridge. They make no unnecessary noise and their positions seem no more than field fortifications. We detected no bunkers."

"Then they are susceptible to mortar fire," Malari commented thoughtfully. "It is good that our battery is set up and ready to go into action."

"How soon do we attack, Major?"

The major chuckled. "I suggest you finish your tea as quickly as possible."

Chapter 14

WEST RIDGE BASE CAMP

26 AUGUST

0630 HOURS LOCAL

LIEUTENANT Bill Brannigan recognized that any attacks on the base camp would most likely come from the east. To make sure it was the strongest point of his defense, he placed the entire First Squad along that side of the perimeter. Connie Concord and Bruno Puglisi set up the 60-millimeter mortar in a circle of sandbags fifteen meters down from the OP. A camouflage covering across the top of the position could be quickly pulled off in the event of fire missions.

Charlie Fire Team has been assigned to cover the western side of the ridge top. Chief Matt Gunnarson and James Bradley, now the only available members of Delta Fire Team since Puglisi was assigned to the mortar and Adam Clifford was KIA, had situated themselves in a fighting hole near the mortar position. These two SEALs were ready to move to any side of the fighting line where their extra firepower would be needed.

Everyone in the platoon knew that combat was imminent and unavoidable. They waited with dry mouths and sweaty palms as a combination of anticipation and apprehension dominated the SEALs' collective mood. However, the tension was relieved from time to time when one of the Brigands told a joke that had suddenly come to mind, or made a humorous remark to cut the tension. There was also some very creative bitching about life in the Navy, headquarters pukes, staff weenies and ragheads.

On the practical side of the situation, the platoon had ammo bandoleers with fully loaded thirty-round 5.56-millimeter magazines laid out in handy spots near their positions. Each man also had a half dozen deadly M-67 fragmentation hand grenades within reach. These nasties blew steel pellets out some fifteen meters from the point of detonation. This made the explosive devices excellent defensive weapons.

As everyone did his best to settle down, the butterflies in the stomachs were worse than those prior to a parachute jump. Senior Chief Buford Dawkins summed it up with one simple remark:

"This is what they're paying us for, but at times like this we should go on time-and-a-half."

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0645 HOURS LOCAL

THE mortar shell ripped through the sky, going completely over West Ridge before slamming into the valley on the western side. The explosion was sharp, the sound echoing in waves across the open country below. It was immediately followed by a second that hit on the western slope of the ridge. Everyone in the platoon hunkered down, their jaw muscles tense and teeth tightly clenched.

A mujahideen mortar was zeroing in on the ridge top.

A couple of moments passed, and the SEALs knew the raghead gunners were using the time to adjust elevation and traverse knobs. The third explosion was dead in the center of the SEALs' position. Over on East Ridge the mujahideen forward observer was satisfied. He got on the old Soviet field radio to let the chief of the mortar battery know they had the range.