Murdock resumed the discussion. "Okay, so we're on-site. We stick with the silenced weapons?"
Most of the men nodded.
"Damn right," Ronson said.
Murdock squinted a moment at some notes on the table. "The ship is tied up, so we don't need to worry about the bridge, the engine room, or the main control room. We just have to root out the fucking rangers. How?"
"We start at the top and work down to the weather deck; then we take them one deck at a time," Ken Ching said. "Most of the bastards are going to be holed up in officer country, and the officers' mess eating their brains out."
"I'd Roger that," DeWitt said. "We can go to the quarterdeck, and spread both ways fore and aft. Then we use our Motorolas, and when that deck is clear we move down one. We can clear the coops and the missile storage areas quickly. Any idea how many men will be there?"
"Two dozen, my guess," Ron Holt said.
"They should have twice that many," Doc Ellsworth said. "This is the only U.S. property they still control."
"What about the embassy?" Ted Yates asked.
"I mean anything that's worth ransoming," Doc said.
A half hour later, Don Stroh came in grinning. "Hey, you've got your choice. The amphib has three of the RIBs if you want them."
"Let's use the damned IBSs," Ricochet Lampedusa said. "Hell, we know them, we can get eighteen knots for four klicks, and not make any more noise than some of the small diesel fishing boats that must be working this area. Then we get close, we go down to five knots and slip up on them without a mother-licking sound."
"You lick what you want to, Lampedusa," somebody called, and they all laughed.
"Okay," Murdock said. "We'll go with the IBSs and all silenced weapons. This is all house-to-house killing fields, so the MP-5's will be handy. We can get plenty more from supply, I checked on that. Double ammo, no rebreathers, cammies, so no wet suits."
Don Stroh went out the door, and returned a minute later with a full commander who carried a briefcase and a sheaf of papers.
"Commander Pollard, glad you could come," Murdock said. "Men, meet Commander Pollard, CO of the USS Colgan. We've got a two-hour drill on a frigate, how to get around in it. The tough spots to defend, where most of the enemy probably will be, and what to try not to destroy if you don't have to."
The commander rolled out drawings of the ship with overlays that showed in detail the areas of access, and how to get from one part of the frigate to another. The SEALs crowded around and started memorizing everything they could about the layout of a U.S. Navy frigate.
At the end of the two hours, every SEAL in the room knew a lot more about how he would attack the Roy Turner.
The commander rolled up his displays and held up his hand.
"Men, I wish you luck, and keep the damned machine operable. As soon as you have the vessel secure, a skeleton crew from my frigate will be boarding the Turner to sail her out to sea. Be careful, but be thorough. Find all of those murdering bastards. I don't want to lose any of my crewmen."
16
General Umar Maleceia paced his office, blowing one blast of cigar smoke after another into the already too-warm room.
"How could they do it? I sent two hundred men in there to put down that raid on the prison, and all hundred and sixty prisoners still got away? You're telling me that they all escaped and got on U.S. Navy hovercraft and charged out to sea? The one hundred and sixty hostages I had in the prison all got away?"
"Yes, my general. There were the jets strafing the prison, and then they had direct hits on our trucks that brought in the men. The men couldn't fight back against hundreds of rounds of twenty-millimeter cannon fire. I'm sorry, my general."
"You're sorry? Hell, we lose this fight and you'll be hanged, you know that, don't you?"
The colonel nodded.
"So, what do we have left? The ship, the stinking little frigate we captured at dockside. How many men we have guarding it?"
"There are twenty-four men under Lieutenant Elijah Koinange. He's a fine officer."
"Have you heard from him today?"
"No, sir."
"Didn't you give him one of our new radios?"
"Yes, Sir. I'll get in contact with him at once."
"If the bastards rescued the crew from the prison, sure as hell they'll try for the ship too."
Colonel Kariuki saluted and hurried out the door.
General Maleceia continued to pace. He'd had it in his grasp. He'd had the embassy and forty hostages. Then he'd had the ship and a hundred and sixty hostages. What the hell went wrong? He shook his head, and took a long pull from the glass of bourbon on his desk. Too many things had gone wrong.
There was still time. He would hold the U.S. Navy ship. Send five hundred of his best rangers to pitch camp on the docks with all of their heavy weapons. Yes, that would do it. He looked at the list of the units he had in Mombasa. Not a lot.
He had sent his Fifth Infantry to the prison. A late report showed that they had suffered nearly fifty percent casualties, including more than seventy percent of the officers. That unit was out of service.
The Second Infantry was fifty miles north of Mombasa in a blocking position. Two hundred men, two tanks, and 81mm mortars. Yes. He'd get them moving almost at once.
Colonel Kariuki came rushing into the room, then slowed. He held up a piece of paper.
"General, it seems there have been some attacks on our guards left on the American ship. Two men were killed last night, and some arms and grenades were stolen. Lieutenant Koinange has no explanation other than that there must be some American sailors hiding on the ship and attacking during the night." General Maleceia threw his drink across the room. The glass shattered on the far wall.
"Idiots! Why am I surrounded by idiots? He was told to search the ship and make sure there was no one hiding. Idiot. Have that lieutenant relieved and broken to a corporal with a note on his personnel file that he is never to be promoted any higher.
"Then, send an order to the Second Infantry posted fifty miles north of Mombasa to de-camp and proceed today to the dock beside the American ship. They are to get there before dark, and let their supplies and equipment follow. I want them in place before dark and ready to fight.
"If the Americans try to retake their ship, they will find a new fighting spirit facing them. Go now, Colonel. I'm making it your responsibility to get those troops there on time if you have to carry them on your back."
Colonel Kariuki let a frown tinge his face. "But General, Sir. We have less than five hours until full darkness. It will be impossible for any but a few truckloads of the troops to be in place by…"
General Maleceia turned, and stared hard at his second in command. The colonel stopped talking, took a deep breath, then ran out of the office.
For the first time in two days, General Umar Maleceia smiled.
Major Merit Mudodo looked at the dispatch his radioman had just brought him
MOVE YOUR UNIT AT ONCE TO THE DOCKS AT MOMBASA NEXT TO CAPTURED US NAVY VESSEL. YOU MUST BE IN PLACE BEFORE DARK TODAY. USE TRANSPORT. MOVE NOW.
He called in his second in command, who read it.
"A joke, Sir."
"No joke, not with Colonel Kariuki's name on it. Get the troops alerted now. We move out in fifteen minutes. How many trucks do we have?"
"Six big ones, maybe five smaller that will run. Sir, it's over fifty miles to Mombasa and at this time of day, the roads will be crowded, and it's market day, and-"