He set the timer for ten minutes, pushed it in to activate it, and ran out the bunker door. Lam stood there waiting for him. Together they hurried to the third bunker and saw Gabu coming out.
“Almost wish we could have stolen about half of these goods before tonight,” he said. “What the hell, maybe this will break General Assaba’s back and he’ll take off for Tanzania.” They ran back to where the rest of the SEALs and the Loyalists had held their defensive perimeter protecting the sappers’ backs.
“About five minutes,” Murdock said. “We should be hitting the bricks to get back to the bus.” This time it hadn’t moved once it let them off. There was no place to hide it.
The men hiked back toward the bus, then stopped and turned when Murdock called a halt. “About now,” he said.
The first blast went off a minute later. The concrete roof of the ammo bunker, with three feet of dirt on top of it, simply lifted off and canted to one side as the tremendous explosion slashed into the midnight sky. It was followed by a blast of air rushing into the spot where the air had been sucked up and shot skyward. Then came the return of the air in a hot blast that slammed half of the men to their knees.
Then the second and third tremendous explosions ripped through the night sky, lighting it like daytime for a half a second. Then the blackness closed in and the rush of air came and went again as the laws of physics held and the roof of the second and third bunkers cracked, then blasted skyward in a million bits of rock, dirt, and concrete. Most of the rocky rain came down well away from the SEALs and the Loyalists.
They all piled onto the bus and grinned and laughed and shook their heads in wonder.
“I’ve seen some big Fourth of July fireworks,” Miguel Fernandez said, “but nothing ever like this.”
The bus lurched forward, driving away from the Army base, taking a fifteen-mile detour around the big reservation, and then swung north and worked toward the river. They were twenty minutes ahead of schedule. The bus parked a quarter of a mile from the landing, and Murdock sent Lam ahead to check out the area. He took the Motorola, and five minutes later called back with a worried voice.
“Skipper, we’ve got some real trouble up here. I’d say there are at least forty, maybe more, Army regulars spaced around the road and alley and in every possible firing position that looks out on the rickety dock we landed on. Not a chance in hell we can get through there and on the boat without about half of us hitting graves registration. Any ideas?”
16
“Yeah, I’ve got an idea, Lam,” Murdock said. “Get your ass back here pronto and don’t make any contact. We go around them or something. Oh, yeah, the radio. Wondered why I’ve been carrying it.” He took out the ten-inch-long radio, turned it on the way he had been told, and pushed the send button.
“Boatman, Murdock calling.”
“Yes, Murdock. We’ve been wondering where you are. You’re late.”
“Don’t go to the same dock you let us off at. Federals have an ambush set up there. Where else can we meet?”
“I was afraid of that. We’ve used that dock too often. Go about a half mile upstream. No dock, but I can get in to where the water is only about two feet deep. We’ll board there. Okay?”
“Sounds good. Give us ten minutes.”
Murdock told the men. Sadler and Gardner had kept their section of the SEALs on the bus.
“We better get back to town,” Sadler said on the Motorola. “You guys get back on your little boat. Let’s plan another raid as soon as we can. Best we stay down here and help protect the embassy.”
Murdock agreed, and told Sadler on the radio. The three SEALS and four Loyalists pulled back silently away from the ambush, and then hiked upstream. Gabu knew the spot. “We’ve used it a couple of times before, but we better check for another ambush.”
Lam did the honors, and reported no enemy in the area. Ten minutes later the seven raiders were all on board the boat.
“Any casualties?” Murdock asked.
“We didn’t take any enemy fire,” Jaybird said.
One of the Loyalists had a sprained ankle, and the others teased him about it.
Gabu sat beside Murdock on the run up the river. “I’d say we did good work tonight. We destroyed General Assaba’s entire motor pool and probably ninety percent of his trucks and buses. We ravaged his administration building, the PX, his theater, and most of the officers’ living quarters. He’s going to be hurting tomorrow morning.”
“Plus he won’t have much ammo or bombs or explosives now that those three ammo bunkers are blasted into rubble,” Murdock said. “You’re right. We did one hell of a lot of good work tonight.”
President Randolph Edwards studied the blowup map of Sierra Bijimi on the wall in the Situation Room on the first floor of the White House.
“This little pipsqueak of a country is causing us all this pain?” the President asked. “Fewer than four million people in a country twice the size of Delaware, and they are holding us captive? On these demands and the use of the helicopter off the destroyer by the SEALs, I’m open to suggestions.”
The CNO, Admiral Burlington, spoke up first. “Mr. President, the use of the Seahawk helicopter off the destroyer Benford is acceptable to the Navy. Especially if it can help rescue the Vice President from that camp and get him on board the destroyer and then the carrier.”
“Isn’t that taking the risk of putting us in the middle of what looks like a civil war in an independent nation?” Johnson from State asked.
“We’ve already got sixteen SEALs there working behind the scenes, and in some combat situations, if I know this particular platoon of SEALs,” Donaldson of the CIA said. “I’d say get that chopper in there and see what good it can do, and then if it works, fly out the VP.”
“Hell, yes, use the SH-60 in there,” General Lawford, the National Defense Advisor, said. “Be a shame to have one so close and not use it. Keep the other one on the destroyer at least until the carrier arrives on station. Then maybe we should up the ante and use some of our F-18’s to do some bombing and strafing of the Sierra Bijimi Army.”
“Now you’re getting us into a shooting war without any authorization by Congress,” Sage Billings, the President’s Chief of Staff, said. “You want another Vietnam here?”
“Enough,” Edwards said. “Admiral Burlington, give a go to the chopper with guns free under the control of Commander Murdock. Now, what about these demands? Are they as hard to meet as they look?”
Johnson, from State, cleared his throat. “Mr. President, they all are contingent on the big one, that the U.N. go in with troops and take over the country. The U.N. has never done that. It has assisted revolutions in places, and stopped them in others, but I don’t recall them ever moving in, in force, and defeating a soverign nation with troops.”
“So where does that leave us?” the President asked. “State?”
“I would suggest a radio transmission to Mojombo Washington explaining our position, that we can do nothing until the U.N. takes over the country. At that time we will be delighted to help organize and run the elections, to help establish a police force, and to rebuild their Army. Until that time, we can do nothing for them.
“Oh, we should make this transmission available to the world press. They have been clamoring for some kind of a reply.”
The rest of the men around the table nodded. “Not much else that we can do,” Donaldson said. The National Defense Advisor gave a curt nod, as did Admiral Burlington.
“All right, gentlemen, looks like this meeting is over. Mr. Johnson, set up a broadcast to Mojombo and let the press in on it. What about that helicopter, the Seahawk?”
The Chief of Naval Operations smiled. “Mr. President, I used my cell phone and the bird will be on its way within an hour. We have to notify the Loyalists that it’s coming and get some directions from them. Consider it done.”
The President watched the men rise and leave. He looked at his Chief of Staff. “Sage, would you stay a moment?”
Sage Billings followed the last man to the door, closed it, and came back and sat across from the President.
“Sage, what’s your eval on Adams? What’s he really doing down there?”
“Sir, I think he was caught up in a plot by Mojombo Washington to grab worldwide publicity for his cause. That part certainly has worked. The kidnapping and the subsequent stories have been all over the international airwaves and print media for four days now. Beyond that, he may be looking at the next Presidential nomination. You can’t run for a third term. I think he is starting his drive for the nomination right now.”
“Do you think that Adams will come out if he gets the chance?”
“No. From what I’ve heard of him talking on the air, he’s dedicated to this young revolutionary, thinks of him as a cross between Thomas Paine and George Washington.”
“I could order Murdock to grab him, put him on that chopper, and take him to the carrier whether he wanted to go or not.”
“You could, and that would destroy a good friendship and make a political enemy for you for the rest of your life.”
“You don’t think I should remove him forcibly?”
“Absolutely not. He’s enamored with this Mojombo. He thinks he can help him reclaim his nation. Maybe he can. Let’s give him a little rope. Let’s see if he’s the man you want to back for your spot next year, since this is your second term in the White House.”
“A little rope. Yes. He might hang himself, or he might lasso a bunch of black hoodlums down there and restore a small nation to honest and open government.”
“You win in either case. The chopper is a good idea. It and the SEALs could make a huge difference in how many troops the local counterfeit general has at his command if a showdown comes.”