None came.
They were halfway up the slope when Murdock yelled at Jaybird. "Floor this fucker, Jaybird. We've got some rocks rolling down the hill."
They all looked up then. What had probably been started as two or three large rocks had gouged out dirt and more rocks, and those had hit more loose rocks, and now the SEALs had a full-sized landslide pounding down toward them.
Jaybird kicked the throttle to the floor, and the old truck wheezed, spurted ahead, then stalled. Jaybird ground the engine. The rocks and dirt came at them in a wall four feet high.
The motor turned over, caught, and Jaybird eased it forward, then gave it more fuel gradually, until they finally tore up the slope.
They almost made it. Murdock watched some of the larger rocks hit and jolt to the left and right instead of coming straight down. That gave the landslide a wider footprint. Jaybird coaxed more speed out of the truck, and Murdock saw that most of it would miss the truck.
Then it was on them. Half-a-dozen rocks the size of basketballs slammed into the side of the rig and the undercarriage. One bounced upward and shattered one of the bows across the top.
The road behind them was covered with six feet of rocks and dirt. The old truck kept moving. When they were out of the danger zone, Jaybird stopped the truck, and they got out and looked at the damage. One of the duals on the back had been slashed and had gone flat.
"One tire's enough with this light load," Jaybird said.
Just then several shots from above snarled, and angry lead slapped into the truck. The men scattered into the near ditch and any other cover they could find when they heard the rifle fire. The men all had their weapons with them. Four rose up and sent AK-47 messages up the slope. They used single-shot, and put twenty rounds into the brush they thought might be hiding the enemy. They had no reaction, and no return fire. They waited five minutes. "Let's mount up and get out of here," Murdock said.
The next turn also involved backing up and going ahead twice. Then they were on another fairly open stretch. They were a quarter of a mile from the last turn when the engine sputtered, coughed, and quit. Jaybird ground the starter, but it wouldn't catch.
Quinley came up from the side of the rig. "I'd say you're out of gas, Jaybird. One of those last rounds from the cliff caught the gas tank. We've been leaking fuel the last quarter mile."
"Everybody out," Murdock called. "We're foot soldiers from here on. That's what that L is for in SEALS."
Doc came up and shook his head at Murdock. "L-T, what in hell do we do about Lincoln? He isn't much on taking a hike right now."
27
Murdock knelt beside Lincoln where he lay in the rear of the 6 x 6 truck.
"Hey, Line, how's it going?"
"Not the best, L-T. I heard about the gas tank. So why are you guys hanging around here? Hit the road. Hike a little. I can take care of myself. Just leave me my MP-five and I'll be fine."
Doc Ellsworth moved in and checked the bandages. He changed both front and back and eased Lincoln down. "At least the bleeding has stopped, Line. You stay quiet and don't bust it open again, y'all hear?"
"Hear, Doc. Now get the troops out of here."
"Quinley, get up here," Murdock called. He crawled into the truck. "Yeah, L-T?"
"You're staying here as a rear guard with Line. Figure the two of you can stop anybody coming up this road."
"But L-T, Line said-"
A stern look from Murdock cut Quinley off in mid-sentence. "Yeah, L-T. The two of us should be able to hold this spot for the rest of the day. I'll have my shotgun and one of them Kalashnikovs with the thirty-round magazines."
Line started to say something, then shook his head and eased down on the bed of the truck.
Murdock put the rest of the platoon in motion. He had twelve men besides himself to face whatever was ahead. He hoped that would be enough.
They hiked up the road at a good pace, with Red Nicholson out ahead of the rest of them by fifty yards as lead scout. He watched the tracks on the dirt trail, and kept a lookout for any bushwhackers who might have been left to harass the troops.
They rounded two more curves in the road, and then it straightened out across a small meadow. Ahead, almost into the woods again, they saw the weapons carrier. It had stopped in the middle of the road.
Red dove into the ditch, and the rest of the platoon followed him.
"Can't see any troops around it, L-T. Just sitting there," Red reported.
"No fire coming from it. Work up and check it out. But don't get yourself killed."
Red sprinted ahead ten yards and dove into the ditch.
Nothing happened around the rig.
Red did another spurt with the same results. He lifted up and used binoculars. He checked the whole area twice, then stood and ran for the rear of the Army vehicle.
No shots sounded. A moment later, he vanished around the side of the weapons carrier.
"L-T, nobody home," Red said to his lip mike.
The SEALs moved up quickly and looked at the vehicle but didn't touch it or anything around it. They knew too well about booby traps in equipment and gear abandoned on purpose.
"Ran out of gas, my bet," Red said. He scanned the ground beyond it, and waved the platoon forward. "Now the big guy is hoofing it like the rest of us." Red soon saw that the Kenyans had kept to the road, where it was easier walking.
"How many men?" Murdock asked Red.
"Hey, I ain't no Chiricahua Apache who can track a pussycat across a lava field." He shrugged as they kept walking. "My guess is maybe ten or twelve. No more."
The platoon hiked for fifteen minutes, but had no way of knowing how far ahead the general and his men were. Most of the SEALs carried two weapons now, including one of the heavy AK-47s. But they didn't complain. The side that ran out of ammunition first was bound to lose this battle.
Red fell in step beside Murdock. "L-T, you know, if they split up and left twelve trails the way the Indians used to do, eleven of them would get away and be home free. This way we get a shot at all of them. If we catch them."
The flat crack of an AK-47 jolted into the mountain silence, and the round slanted past Murdock and dug into the road. The men darted into the ditches on each side or behind trees.
Murdock got off the first shot when he saw movement in the roadside brush two hundred yards ahead. "Use your AKs," Murdock said on the Motorola. The SEALs slammed ten rounds into the brush, then more on the other side of the road. Would they put just one man as a rear guard?
"Hold it," Murdock said to the lip mike. "No more fire. I think he's bugged out."
They went into the brush, and worked up to where they had seen the shots come from. No one was there. Red showed them where the man had trampled down some grass and weeds and broken off some branches to have a clear field of fire.
Back on the road, Murdock moved them out faster. They needed to catch the men ahead, not just chase them. He wondered if the Kenyans were heading for a specific spot or were just on a frantic run.
Murdock changed his usual formation, and spread the men out at ten-yard intervals to make a less-enticing target. He and Red took the point, and moved out fifty yards.
They came around another turn, and saw the road slanting upward again. The hills were getting higher, the ravines sharper, but still there were more trees and brush than Murdock liked.
Red held up his hand and went down on one knee. "Take cover, L-T," Red yelled, dove, and rolled to the side of the road.