In the back of the truck, Willy Bishop used the cab as his cover, and got his HK machine gun over the roof and laid down a steady stream of answering fire. The Kenyans were two hundred yards off. Horse Ronson began pounding at them with his MG, and a minute later half the weapons with the range on board fired at the two men at the side of the big tree ahead.
Then the incoming stopped.
"Cease fire," Murdock told his Motorola. The weapons were silenced, but the machine gunners kept watch.
"Anybody hit?" Murdock asked.
He heard one growl from the cab of the truck, and jumped up the step and inside. Lincoln hadn't made it out of the truck. He lay against the back of the seat bent down under the dash. That must have saved his life. He had a bullet graze on one arm, and held his hand over his belly. Blood seeped between his fingers.
"Doc, get up here fast," Murdock bellowed.
Doc Ellsworth came up to the driver's-side door, and frowned when he saw Lincoln.
"Hey, buddy, you picked up a scratch. Move your hand, let me look at it."
He picked up Lincoln's bloody hand so he could see. "Yeah, Line, caught you one in the side. Looks like it went tight through. Missed most of your gut. We'll get you in the back."
He gave Lincoln a shot of morphine, put a pad over the front wound, and felt in back.
"Yeah, little zinger came out. That's good. Now I don't have to go lead mining."
"Anybody else hit?" Murdock asked into his lip mike.
"One nipped my arm a little, messed up my shirt sleeve," Holt said. Murdock knew his voice. "No sweat, L-T. Band-Aid stuff. How's Line?"
"We'll need a new driver. Who can handle this rig?"
"I can," Jaybird said. "Used to drive a furniture-delivery rig about this size back in Michigan."
They moved Lincoln carefully. Doc put bandages on both wounds, and had most of the bleeding stopped. Lincoln wouldn't be walking anywhere else on this mission. They laid him down in the back of the truck on some sacking. Doc stayed with him.
Jaybird rolled the truck. They cleared the curve and then the next one. Each time Jaybird slowed. They were getting into the higher country now, and the trees and underbrush covered the narrow road. They met nobody, and no rig tried to pass them. Murdock figured they were moving about ten or fifteen miles an hour, grinding along in second most of the time.
Murdock had Horse Ronson's HK machine gun in the cab now, with the nose pushed out through the hole where the windshield used to be. He was ready for any more ambushes.
A short time later they drove around another corner, and Murdock saw a flash of sunshine off something ahead. He let off a burst of six rounds, and a moment later they took return fire. Jaybird hit the brakes hard, stopped the rig and killed the engine. He went to the floor of the cab. Murdock kept firing, driving three dark-green shirted troopers off the side of the road.
They had planned what to do if this happened again. Magic darted away from the back of the truck into the brush. Murdock was right behind him with Ching and Nicholson. They charged up hill through the brush fast as they could run.
Red stayed closer to the side of the roadway, and lip-miked what he saw.
"Three of them in the brush on the other side of the road," Red said as he ran. "Looks like they're waiting for something. Another fifty yards ahead."
The SEALs ran again.
The next time Red came on the Motorola, it was a whisper.
"Yeah, we're far enough now. There's a big cedar tree here with two tops. Bastards are right across the road."
Murdock got there first. They were screened by some brush. Three Kenyan soldiers lay across the road with their machine gun aimed down toward the next small curve the SEALs' truck would have to round.
Murdock settled in with the MG and waited. Magic came in next, silently saw the situation, and found a field of fire for his HK PSG1 sniper rifle twenty feet up the road. Ching came in on silent feet, and he and Red stood behind the big cedar tree.
The SEALs traditionally started their firing on the first shot from Murdock. He got off half a burst of six before the other three weapons joined in. The three prone soldiers across the road didn't have time to swing their guns around. They all died instantly with six or eight rounds in each one.
The SEALs stopped firing and waited. There was no response from any other unit. After three minutes, Murdock motioned to Red, and he and Ching ran across the dirt road.
They picked up the two AK-47s the men had and four magazines, and ran down the road.
A few minutes later the big truck ground up the hill, and paused while Murdock and Magic climbed on board.
Red Nicholson rode on the front bumper. They came to a turnoff into a narrower track, and Nicholson jumped off and checked it.
"Turned in here, L-T," he called. Murdock waved them forward. This road was barely wide enough for the 6 x 6 truck. The vehicle swept branches on both sides of the road. The first turn involved twice backing up and going forward.
They worked along a road cut into the bank of a slope that went up fifty feet. They were halfway up. Murdock kept watching the slope, wondering. He saw something come out of some brush, and yelled for everyone to take cover.
The grenade bounced once to the side, then hit the road thirty feet in front of the truck. Red Nicholson had jolted off the bumper and dove behind the front wheel as Jaybird stopped the rig.
Murdock sprayed the brush with rounds from his MP-5. He'd taken the silencer off it. Two M-4A1s opened up as well, and DeWitt sprinted up the road with three of his men. He was next up on the ambush patrol kill schedule.
Horse got his MG warmed up, and chewed up the brush where the others had been shooting, then hosed down the area on each side.
"Hold it," Murdock called. DeWitt had vanished around the bend ahead where the road took a switchback heading up the sharp slope.
They heard firing from above. Then the Motorola spoke.
"Fernandez, over there by that tree. Yes." It was DeWitt. More rattling fire sounded from above, and DeWitt came on the radio again.
"Clear on top. See if that bucket of Kenyan bolts will get up this far."
It did.
Jaybird stopped on the rise and picked up the four men. They had three more AK-47's and two more thirty-round magazines of the 7.62 ammo.
Quinley moved over to Doc Ellsworth.
"Caught one," Quinley said. Doc looked at the arm wound.
"Not too bad. Missed the bone, went on through. Your lucky day." He put some healing salve on the two wounds, then some sterile compresses, and wrapped it tightly with roller bandages.
"Now flex your fist. Make a hard one. Relax. Do it again. Any burning along your arm?" Quinley shook his head. "Okay, joto ichiban. Have two blondes, and see me in the morning."
Quinley grinned. "Wished to hell I could. The blondes, I mean."
The road flattened out then as it wound through the highlands. There were more trees, and brush, and some strange plants that Murdock couldn't identify. They saw no more rear guards, and knew they had reduced the general's force by at least ten men. He might have ten still with him, or maybe fifteen. The men they'd questioned might not have known for sure.
Murdock looked at the AK-47s. Always a potent weapon. The thirty-round magazines were attractive right then.
"How we doing on ammo?" he asked. He got reports from half gone to two-thirds gone. Two men were down to two magazines left.
"We've got ten AK-47s here. We'll use them until they run dry. All the men with the MP-5 pick up a forty seven, and get used to it. We'll have more long-range work now anyway. One thing we don't want to do is run out of rounds, so be conservative. Use single-shot if that will do the job."
They came to another rise in the narrow road. It didn't look as if it had been traveled for some time. Weeds had begun to show between the tire tracks in the middle of the road. Soon they came to another hill. The road rose along the side of the slope, and Murdock watched upward wondering about another grenade attack.