"Roger," Frank said. "The First Section Commander wants to know if we can get air cover. Over."
"Negative," Dawkins said. "I've already tried. There's been a change made in the arrangement. Evidently, politics and diplomacy have stuck their ugly mugs into the operation. You'll be on your own until we have visual contact with you. Out."
Veronica concentrated on preparing the chain gun. The First Section Commander was the man she wanted to marry, and if he asked for air cover it meant the situation was deteriorating rapidly. She quickly squeezed off some test rounds and the chain gun spit out a sharp series of the heavy 30-milimeter rounds.
As Dawkins watched her, he suddenly remembered something his grandpa once told him as a boy back on the farm in Alabama. 'They's two times you don't want to mess with a pissed-off woman, Buford. One is when she's defending her young'uns, and the other when the man she loves is in danger. She goes from human to female tiger in an instant."
The senior chief eyed the lieutenant, thinking, "Here we got a tigress."
.
THE FORTRESS
BRANNIGAN led the way downstairs to the first floor of the facility. When they reached the landing, the group almost stumbled over a pile of dead Arabs. Jim Cruiser was standing by, his relief at seeing them evident on his face. "We were starting to get worried about you guys."
Brannigan surveyed the corpses. At least a dozen dead men were sprawled the distance of the hallway. "Who the hell are they?"
"Evidendy they live--lived--here," Jim explained. 'They came from someplace farther back in the facility, armed to the teeth and looking for a fight. We gave it to 'em."
Mike Assad glanced over the bodies, recognizing them. "These guys are officers who have quarters in the building. They were unit leaders in al-Mimkhalif."
"Whatever," Brannigan said dismissing what was obviously no longer a problem. "What's the situation, Jim?"
"We're under heavy attack, sir, and pinned down pretty bad" the lieutenant reported. "I estimate a hundred or so have us under their gun sights."
"My kingdom for a mortar" Brannigan said to himself under his breath. He raised his voice, "We're going to have to fight through the bastards and reach the docks."
"Yes, sir," Jim said. "Gomez has been in contact with the Battlecraft and she's standing off the coast waiting for the word to move in and pick us up. The senior chief wants to meet us by that fancy yacht." He quickly added, "Forget about requesting air cover. It's not going to happen. The senior chief said something about politics and diplomacy."
Brannigan understood. "Right now we're invading the sovereign territory of both Yemen and Oman. I figure our CIA friends Paulsen and Koenig have gotten the word to make our presence here as minor a disturbance as possible."
Jim patted two grenades he had attached to his vest. "We found these with those three guys that sprung the ambush on us."
"Hang on to 'em," Brannigan said. 'They may come in handy." He turned to the Odd Couple. "Leibowitz! Report back to your fire team. Assad! Stick by me. You're going to have to point out the best route to that fucking yacht."
Dave Leibowitz rushed off to join Connie Concord and Arnie Bernardi of Bravo Fire Team. When he reached his mates, he found them behind cover of some vehicles just outside the door. They were busy returning fire at a point on the rag-head perimeter that continued to sweep the area with hasty, unaimed fire that was dangerous just the same.
Brannigan and Mike eased out of the building, rushing over to a point between the Alphas and Bravos. Mike pointed toward a gate fifty meters to the east. "That leads to the docks, sir. Once you're through there, you're out at the wharves and it's a short dash to where the royal yacht is tied up."
Brannigan looked at the door, his mind going flank speed. "All right!" he said through his LASH. "Listen up! Both SAW gunners and Charlie Fire Team are going to lay down some heavy covering fire. Jim, I want you to stay with them. The rest of us will make a run for that door in the walclass="underline" When we get there, Lieutenant Cruiser and his guys will join us while we provide cover for them. When we all join up, we'll go through the door. Assad will be in the lead, and we'll go directly down the dock where that big yacht is tied up. Hopefully, the Battlecraft will be there waiting. Get ready!"
Garth Redhawk and Chad Murchison, with Sheikh Omar Jambarah between them, joined Brannigan. Frank Gomez also showed up, knowing that the skipper would be needing him. He hadn't caught his breath before Brannigan ordered him to raise the Battlecraft.
"Okay, Gomez, tell Lieutenant Rivers to come in for us." Gomez made the voice transmission as quickly as possible without waiting for a reply. Brannigan once again turned to his LASH. "Get ready! All right! Execute! Execute! Execute!"
The covering fire came on strong and heavy, the slugs from the weapons kicking up dust and slamming into the walls behind the garrison defenders. Mike Assad took off running with the Alphas behind him. Brannigan and Gomez along with Redhawk and Murchison, who were frogmarching the terrified sheikh, all headed for the gate at all possible speed. Because of the fire they attracted, not even the sheikh dragged his feet. His men would think that accidentally killing their leader would guarantee a spot for him in Paradise. Jambarah didn't have that much faith in the martyrdom principle.
The Bravos were the last of the desperately running men. Although it took only seconds to reach the door, it seemed like long minutes. As soon as Mike reached the portal and kicked it open, everyone stopped and began firing to provide cover for Jim Cruiser and his men.
Mike went through the door and immediately came under fire from a dozen guards. He jumped back inside the wall, rushing to Brannigan. "Sir, we're between a rock and a hard place. About a dozen of the garrison guard is out there, and they got us pinned in. We can't get through that fucking door more than one or two at a time."
Now the entire raider party was crowded around the door, returning fire desperately as their precious ammo supply dwindled like water going through a sieve. Brannigan reached over and grabbed the handset of the AN/PRC-148 off Gomez's harness. He spoke tersely into the device. "Battlecraft, move up to the end of the dock. We're getting incoming from out there. Spray the whole fucking area with that fucking chain gun. Do it for sixty seconds on my mark. Wait." He checked the sweep hand on his watch. "Now!"
Suddenly the area outside the wall turned into a roaring hell as heavy 30-millimeter armor-piercing slugs swept through the docks at over six hundred rounds a minute. The SEALs were now slamming their last magazines into the SAWs and CAR-15s as Brannigan monitored his watch. When the sixty seconds had passed, he jumped up and ran over to the door, kicking it open. "Haul ass!"
The SEALs and their prisoner rapidly slipped through the opening to the other side of the wall. Jim Cruiser stopped long enough to pull the two grenades off his harness, and throw them as far as he could at the enemy troops who had quickly begun to pursue them. The two explosions made them hesitate an instant, and Jim rushed through the door. Brannigan sent his last rounds at the rag-heads. Then he turned and joined the others running down the dock toward the Battlecraft.