That afternoon the soldiers began to take the camp apart. All of the tents came down, but the pole frames would be left. They had four carts that would be pulled and the motorcycle that they’d brought from the President’s warehouse. The three SEALs would ride their bikes down as well.
By chow time that evening most of the camp had been dismantled. The word went out that the trek south would begin at 0600. Right after early chow at 0500.
Murdock and Stroh huddled with Mojombo.
“What can we do that will hasten Kolda’s departure from office?” Murdock asked.
Mojombo thought about it. “Probably a hit at the police. We hurt the Central Police Station last week, but there are six more around town. The police here are not what you think of as police. They all are soldiers with blue uniforms. They all have the mentality of storm troopers. Some casualties in their ranks would bring cheers from the population. The police are the most hated group in the whole government system.”
Gardner grinned. “Colonel, if you would tell us where these facilities are, we could do some work on them while you’re getting in solid with the villagers.”
Murdock nodded. “It would seem like a good choice. We could take out the buildings and anyone in them with our twenties. It would be a quick and simple hit and then we’d hustle back north.”
“Why not use the Seahawk?” Jaybird said. “We could fly to an LZ three or four miles in the country so they wouldn’t hear us coming. We chogie in to our targets and do our business, take a hike back to our protected transport, and be back to our grass shack before morning.”
Stroh had been listening. He looked at Murdock. “I’d think the commander and Howard would like that chopper idea after they made that thirty-mile hike a couple of nights ago.”
“Amen, brother, you have seen the light,” Howard said.
“Oh, while I’ve almost got the floor, we were talking about some prime candidates for a visit,” Stroh said. “We have details and locations on four so far. These would be two- or three-man missions strictly on a hit-and-run-like-hell basis.”
“Tomorrow is moving day,” Murdock said. “After we get situated there, and find a nearby LZ for our Seahawk, we’ll get with Mojombo and detail our police targets. Then I want him to look over our four-man hit list to see if he agrees with the ambassador.”
The pilot of the chopper and his copilot drifted up to the group. “For you who don’t know these gentlemen, the redhead is Josie Halstrom, the Seahawk’s pilot,” Murdock said. “This must be the copilot.”
“Yes sir, sir, Commander. I’m JG Hal Parcells.”
“We going to have an LZ down below?” Halstrom asked. “We can lift out a good-sized load of whatever needs to be moved.”
Mojombo gave the pilot a high five. “Now why didn’t I think of that. Lieutenant? Why don’t you and I fly downstream first thing with daylight and we’ll find a good LZ close to the village. As I remember, this one has a soccer field. We could use that. Can we check it out before we take a load down?”
“If you think it’s close enough, we might as well take a load as we look,” said Halstrom. “Save fuel. I brought extra tanks, but fuel is going to be a problem soon.”
“Could you have the other sixty on the destroyer fly in three barrels of juice for you?” Lam asked. “All we’d need would be a hand pump and we could keep you gassed up.”
“Good idea. I’ll talk to my CO tonight on the chopper radio and set it up for tomorrow afternoon.” Halstrom grinned. “Commander, where did you find these guys?”
“Lieutenant, we sifted through half the Navy before we picked our platoon. It’s paid off.”
They heard cheering, and looked down at the one flat area of the camp. Twenty men were in a hot soccer game.
“Yeah, most popular sport in our country,” Mojombo said. “You call it soccer, we call it football.”
“Thank God for soccer,” Halstrom said. “That field down at the village will be an ideal LZ.”
The meeting broke up. Bill Bradford took out his sketch pad and made drawings of the tents, the chow hall, and the soldiers in their new cammies looking stiff and unsure. “Man, I’m getting all this travel and places to sketch, and besides that, I’m getting my SEAL pay to do it. What a deal. I may re-up for about twenty more.”
Paul Jefferson tried to get a chess game going, but he couldn’t find anyone interested. At last he approached JG Gardner.
“Sir, how about a friendly little game of chess. I hear you played in college.”
Gardner grinned. “Hey, you didn’t hear that, Jefferson, because I didn’t. It was the high school chess team and I was captain. You want black or white?”
In an hour it was dark. The generator had already been packed on the chopper along with most of the heavy kitchen equipment. When darkness hit, the troops went to bed. They had left up the Vice President’s tent. He invited Murdock in to use the other cot. Murdock at first declined, then thinking about another night on the hard ground convinced him and he took it. He thought they might talk a while, but as soon as the VP hit his bunk he was asleep, snoring softly.
The next morning chow was simple, and then the move began. Murdock had never seen such mass confusion. There was no beach-master to move groups and items in an orderly process. The tents had been carefully folded and tied to ten-foot poles, and men shouldered each end of the poles and headed down the trail. Other soldiers carried goods in slings across their backs. Some had sacks and baskets filled with goods. Several shouldered cases of canned goods.
The chopper took off at first light, and and was back thirty minutes later empty and ready for a new load. Mojombo had stayed at the new location to talk to the people. He soon found twenty homes that would take two soldiers each. Two SEALs wound up on a pole carrying a tent. Murdock, Jaybird, and Howard rode their motorcycles down to the soccer field, then grabbed a chopper ride back up with ten others to make a second trip.
Three horse-pulled carts came down the trail from where Mojombo and his men had hidden the rest of the food they took from the President’s warehouse. It was stacked in a pile inside one of the tents that had been put up using freshly cut poles from the jungle.
Loads were potluck. Men took whatever they wanted to carry. Murdock and Jaybird grabbed twenty-four-can cases of vegetables and headed down the trail. They met fifty men coming back up for another load.
By afternoon everything had been transferred. A dozen tents were set up around the edge of the soccer field so there was still room for a game. Men had been assigned to the homes, and the rest took to their bunks in the tents. The SEALs had tents now too, and cots.
“We going out tonight?” Jaybird asked.
“Haven’t you had enough action for one day?” Murdock asked.
“Hell, no. Just getting warmed up. How about us hitting two cop stations at the same time. One squad on each one. We could ask Mojombo where two of them are the closest together.”
Murdock had been feeling uneasy, as if the SEALs were a fifth wheel here. “Check with the chopper pilot and see how his fuel is. He said he’d get in fuel via the other bird tomorrow. Then we’ll decide.”
Murdock went to talk to Mojombo. He was hosting a group of local village leaders. They were delighted to meet one of the SEALs. When Murdock found a minute, he asked Mojombo about two police stations near each other that they could hit at the same time.