"Hold fire," Murdock said into his Motorola. The sound of the weapons trailed off. Murdock stared at the ambush. The general and his men had used their heads this time, waiting for the cross fire.
"Ed, check the left side. I'll take the right. Everybody else cover us. If anybody in there fires a shot, blast them." Murdock lifted up and charged into the brush. He worked ahead carefully, making as little noise as he could. Twenty yards forward he came on the death scene. Two green-uniformed Kenyan troopers lay sprawled in the grass and weeds. Both had been riddled by more than a dozen rounds. They'd had no protection to the front. He kicked the weapons away. Both AK-47's had run dry of ammo.
"Clear right," Murdock said.
"Clear left," Ed DeWitt answered.
Murdock ran back to the road. He saw what he feared he might. Doc Ellsworth was busy. Murdock came up beside him where he worked on Horse Ronson. The big man grinned through what Murdock knew was searing pain.
"He took two rounds in his right leg," Doc said. "Doubt if the bone is broken. He'd be screaming by now if it was. Guess that one round slanted off the bone and came out sideways. No more hiking for Horse."
"Anybody else?"
"Yeah, me. Got a scratch on my left arm," Doc said, and sat down suddenly. His face went white, and he struggled to stay sitting up. He shook his head.
"L-T, could you get me one of them morphine shots. Think I'm going to need one. Oh, one for Horse here too."
It was ten minutes before they got Ronson to the side of the road in a trampled-down patch of grass where he could stay until they came for him. Murdock gave him a WP grenade.
"Hey, Horse, if you hear a chopper coming, POP that Willy Peter out there in the road and we'll be sure to stop by."
"Can do. Go knock down that General Fuck up there. Wanted him myself. Have to give him to you."
Ronson wouldn't let them leave anyone with him. They were down to eleven men. Doc came around and joked about almost passing out. Murdock wrapped up his left arm. Doc could flex his hand. He said he could shoot, and that was what mattered.
Murdock looked up the road. They were coming to the top of this particular hill. It looked as if the road went directly to the summit. Maybe that was the end of the road. It had to lead somewhere. The general might be down to three or four men. Which should make it easy, if they could catch the guy. He shouldn't have much of a lead by this time.
Murdock saw Red Nicholson jogging down the sloping road toward him. He was out of breath.
"Might have something up front," Red said. "Road goes right to some kind of a rock building, an old house or a fort. I know the general and his men are inside. I heard him yelling at them. It's not more than a quarter of a mile ahead."
28
Murdock and Red Nicholson slid into brush at the edge of the road. Murdock had moved the platoon up in the brush to the closest place to the structure, which was fifty yards away across a grassy area. He looked at the sturdy rock building.
It wasn't a house or a storeroom. It had more the look of a fort. On the front he saw what could only be firing slots.
"Could have been a strong point early on when the British were here," Red said.
Murdock nodded. "Makes it just that much harder to capture." The platoon commander studied the structure again. Two stories, maybe thirty feet showing on the front side, slate or tile roof so it couldn't be burned out. Six firing slots out this side. One regular-sized door that looked to be covered with an iron facing had been built into the center of the front. Outside the door was a pile of furniture. Murdock got his glasses on it, and froze.
"They've got a barricade outside the front door. Could be some rifles in there."
Just as he spoke they heard two weapons fire, and rounds nipped through the brush around them.
Murdock got his MP-5 up. He'd taken the silencer off so it was good for a range of 150 yards. "Dig them out," Murdock said, and fired a six-round burst. The others began slamming lead at them as well, with the heavy snarl of the AK-47s and the sharper sound of the .223 rounds from the carbines.
Automatic bursts came from the barricade. Murdock squirmed farther behind the cedar tree. He heard somebody bleat in pain, then fired again at the pile of furniture.
There were three more bursts of rounds from the front of the house. Then they stopped. Murdock saw the door open a foot, then close a few moments later.
"Hold fire," Murdock said in his mike. "The gents have moved into their fortress. Who got hit?"
Ching spoke up. "Hey, just a scratch, not even a Band-Aid needed. Not to worry. What's next?"
"Take a look, Doc. That's why we pay you the big bucks."
Ellsworth worked over to Ching, and found a graze that had plowed up a half inch of flesh across Ching's arm just below the shoulder. He put on some disinfectant salve, and then wrapped it with a roller.
"Ching is fit for duty, L-T. Just a graze," Doc reported.
"Good. Ching, glad you're still with us. Hey, no wonder the general wanted to get here," Murdock said. "This place looks like a fortress. Red, circle around the whole thing. See if there's any closer approach through the brush and trees. Check for any windows in back and look for more doors. See if they all have metal shielding. We've got three hours to darkness with any luck. Go."
Red Nicholson bent over and ran through the brush. This was the job he had asked for in the platoon, and one he loved. A little thing like a slug through his left arm wasn't going even to slow him down. He moved thirty yards in the heavy brush, then worked forward to where the growth thinned and then stopped around the top of this small hill. Evidently it had been cut down and dug out at one time. Now the new growth was starting to recapture the lost ground.
The side of the structure looked much like the front. Two stories, six firing slots, no doors or windows.
He crawled into the brush and circled around to the back.
The cover was sparser here, and he moved with caution. If they were any kind of soldiers at all, they would have lookouts at those firing slots.
Again he came up on the clearing. The rear was a little different. There were two doors, and two windows with close-set bars on them. He estimated the iron bars were only three inches apart. He saw one of the doors open. A man appeared briefly, threw out some water from a bucket, went inside quickly, and closed the door.
Red wondered if he should have shot the guy. No. He had no go on it from the L-T. He squirmed into heavy cover, and checked the last side. It resembled the other three.
The best place to attack would be the rear. It had the two doors, and grenades could be wedged between the window bars. The doors had the same metal facing, but a charge or two would send them flying off their hinges.
When Red returned to make his report, he found the ten men spread out in the brush facing the rock house. He gave his report to Murdock.
The platoon leader had his plan at once. He looked at Ed DeWitt. "Keep two men with an MG and AK-47. You'll be the diversion. I'll give you a signal on the Motorola. Gonna try those two doors in back. Keep up a good-paced fire, but don't run out of ammo. How much you have left?"
Willy Bishop reported he had a little over a hundred rounds. DeWitt gathered the AK-47 ammo from his squad, and had four full thirty-round magazines and two partials.
Murdock nodded. "Should be enough. We're hoping to blind them and get inside quickly. I'll call you off if we get a door open." He looked at the men spread out, then used the mike. "How many flash-bang grenades we have left?"
The reports showed they had only one. "Bring it up," Murdock said.