Jack Terral - Seals (2005)

Tanizai walked at the head of the column, doing his best to set a good example for his fighters in the demanding situation. The officer was a firm believer in maintaining excellent physical conditioning, and he personally supervised an exercise regimen that he had designed for his men.

Now he kept up a steady, confident pace, forcing himself to endure the fatigue with no sign of discomfort. The captain finally allowed himself to relax a bit when he sighted two figures up ahead through the haze of heat that shimmered off the terrain. He increased the pace, impatient to reach the scouts Abdullah and Ashraf, who had been waiting for them.

Ashraf, always the spokesman for the duo, performed a Russian-style salute when Tanizai walked up to him. "Greetings, Captain. It is only another kilometer to where the equipment awaits you."

"Thanks to Allah!" Tanizai said in relief. He turned toward the column, shouting as loudly as he could. "Your packs and rations are just ahead. Step lively!"

The word was passed down the line, and the mujahideen happily put forth some extra effort to hurry forward to the place where they could regain possession of their gear. The company formation began to spread out as they stepped up the rate of march in their excitement. The sub-leaders immediately regained control of their men, keeping them in good order as they neared the final destination of the speed march.

When they reached the temporary supply dump, each platoon was brought to a halt, then ordered to dress right and cover down as if on parade. Under the philosophy of discipline established by Warlord Hassan Khamami, there would be no disorderly stampede to retrieve the gear. As soon as they were under tight control, one group at a time was marched in an orderly fashion to retrieve the equipment, then return to their platoon to await the next order of business.

When everyone was once again fully equipped, Captain Tanizai took personal command of the company and marched them down to the western egress of the valley. The mujahideen were ordered to ground their packs, then begin SEAM digging defensive positions that covered both the valley and the ground above. The mortars were arranged a few dozen yards to the rear to organize for short-range barrages. The crews' aiming stakes were quickly deployed to align all the tubes on the proper azimuth.

Weariness dogged Tanizai as he walked slowly along the platoon perimeters that faced the direction the infidel enemy would come from. The valley was sealed shut, and anyone approaching them would come under the combined firepower of both light and heavy infantry weapons.

.

THE WADI KHESTA VALLEY

1500 HOURS LOCAL

THE going was easy for the SEALs. The valley was wide at that point--approximately half a kilometer--and the ground was flat and firm. They had noticed the flights of helicopters that traveled from east to west, but noted there had only been two lifts flown before the aerial activity ceased. That would mean that if a mujahideen unit had been taken ahead to lay an ambush, there could not be more than fifty of the enemy positioned for an encounter.

Lieutenant Wild Bill Brannigan hoped the bastards were waiting to engage the platoon. It shouldn't be too difficult to deal with them from the valley, and the canteens the mujahideen undoubtedly had with them would be a godsend. The lack of water was a situation that grew more serious with each passing hour. The highly disciplined SEALS took only small sips from their canteens when they should have been gulping down large swallows to replace the body fluids being sweated away in the pressing heat.

Brannigan noted the men were beginning to look like candidates toward the end of Hell Week during BUD/S. The situation they now endured was the exact reason why SEAL aspirants were driven to the utmost in spiritual and physical limits during training. If the fainthearted were able to successfully complete SEAL training and win the coveted Trident badge, any weaklings among the platoon would have succumbed to the hardships days before. Even the ancient Roman legions recognized the importance of a tough, unrelenting training program, and the centurions who led the legionnaires did their best to make the training more difficult than actual combat.

Suddenly Joe Miskoski's voice came over the LASH from the rear of the column. "Choppers coming in on our six!"

Everyone immediately took cover by going into the shadows along the slopes of the valley. Within moments the noise of helicopter engines could be heard drawing closer. But instead of flying overhead, they suddenly eased back.

Chief Matt Gunnarson's hoarse voice sounded through the headsets. "The son of a bitches is hovering!" A moment later he spoke again, saying, "Hovering my Aunt Tillie's tits! They're landing!"

Everyone listened as the engines quieted down further, until they made the slow "chop-chop" sound of the rotor gears being disengaged. Within fifteen minutes they revved up again and could be heard climbing back into the sky. Then they turned away, the sound diminishing as the aircraft flew rearward out of the area.

"Two-I-C and senior chief report to me," Brannigan ordered through the LASH.

Jim Cruiser and Buford Dawkins rushed from their respective places in the column and joined Brannigan just to the rear of Alpha Fire Team. The Skipper waited as they settled down beside him. "It's obvious the chopper lift has brought an enemy unit to our direct rear," Brannigan said. "And they've already landed people to the front."

Dawkins's voice was somewhat distorted by the pebble in his mouth. "That means they know where we are."

"Yeah," Brannigan agreed.

"How the hell did they figure that out?" Cruiser asked in irritation.

"Prob'ly recon patrols, sir," Dawkins suggested. "We're so godamn tired they just snuck up on us."

"It doesn't matter," Brannigan said, irritated. "But there is also the unpleasant prospect that the enemy ahead of us marched to that location rather than use helicopters. And that means we can't accurately estimate how many they are."

"I hadn't considered that," Cruiser said.

"Even if they did put a small force ahead of us, they'll be bringing a much larger one eventually. They may be close to linking up even as we sit here. The ones behind us will want to drive us forward."

"Well," Cruiser said, "that makes it easy to figure out what to do."

"Right," Brannigan said. "We're going to attack the small group to the rear for a breakout. And I haven't got a clue what we'll do or where we'll go once we've cleared our way to open country."

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire," the senior chief remarked, spitting out the pebble.

"Whatever," Brannigan said, shrugging. "Get your teams ready." He watched as Cruiser and Dawkins returned to their men, and he spoke over the LASH to Mike Assad and Dave Leibowitz up on point. "Get your asses back here."

"Aye, sir!" came Mike's reply.

.

THE MUJAHIDEEN

1600 HOURS LOCAL

THE former mujahideen chief Ayyub Durtami stood off to the side alone as he watched his men gather into a mob to his direct front. Durtami's former faithful assistant Ahmet Kharani was no longer a part of his entourage. Kharani had found favor with Warlord Hassan Khamami and had been made a lieutenant in the garrison guard. This was an undeniable indication to Durtami that he was now an outcast. His best hope was to martyr himself in battle and seek redemption and reward in Allah's Paradise. There would be nothing for him in Khamami's fiefdom unless a miracle occurred.

Durtami's men each had a single canteen on a strap around the shoulder, and this small amount of water gave evidence that their chances in the coming battle were considered minimal at best. The Lee-Metford Mark II rifles they carried were in sorry condition. All were dirty, and at least a dozen of them could not be loaded because the bolts were rusted shut. The magazines were designed to hold ten rounds in a double column, but the men had been issued only three. However, those who could not load their rifles gave their three to close friends, so a few had six to fire at the infidels.