The small tanklike vehicle slowed, then stopped. They heard metal on metal as one of the side doors opened. Before anyone could leave, the C-4 went off half inside the armored personnel carrier. The sides of the rig bulged for a second. The unlatched door blasted off its hinges and flew into the street. Smoke billowed from the open doorway, the viewing ports, and the off-side door, which had also blown open and sagged on one hinge.
“Move to the center street, form up, we’re out of here,” Gardner barked into the Motorola. The fourteen SEALs and one Loyalist guide raced to the middle street and quickly jogged away from the now-burning half-track. A moment later an explosion ripped through the rig as flames found the fuel tank.
Ten blocks away from the police station, Gardner eased the men to a walk. “Any more casualties?”
Nobody spoke up, then a strange voice said, “Hey, I shit my pants when that fucking Jaybird…”
“Jaybird, I’m at the end of the line. Get your little ass back here, now.” Everyone knew it was Murdock’s voice.
Jaybird waited at the side of the street for the rest of the detail to pass him. He fell into step beside Murdock.
“Sorry, Cap. It just seemed like a good idea at the time. Hey, no harm, no foul.”
“Against a direct order is something of a foul.” Murdock shook his head. He grabbed the smaller man and gave him a hug and lifted him off the ground. “Jaybird, you little bastard. Don’t you never die, you motherfucker. Not never. Don’t even think about it.” It was the traditional best tribute one SEAL could give to another. He put Jaybird down and they jogged to catch up with the rest of the platoon.
“Wonder what the driver thought when he saw that putty coming in through his view port?” Jaybird asked.
“I’d let you go back and interview him, but it’s my guess he’s in no condition to answer any questions.”
They both laughed and caught up with the rest of the platoon.
Two miles past the last house, Gardner called a halt. Mahanani found Sadler and checked him out using his small flashlight.
“Not good, Senior Chief. Tore up your forearm. Had to be a ricochet. It’s a furrow three inches long. Still bleeding like a bastard. I can stop it with enough pressure. You want a morphine?”
Sadler, sitting on the ground, nodded and leaned back until he was lying down. “Damn, not supposed to hurt this much.”
Mahanani took the MP-5 from him and handed it to the closest man, Jefferson. Then he spent five minutes sterilizing and then medicating the wound. He wrapped it tightly and then put another bandage over that. He pushed one more ampoule of morphine into Sadler’s right arm and helped him stand up.
“Hey, Chief, what day is this?”
“Who the hell knows? The only easy day was yesterday. Let’s get out of this stinking town.”
“We’re ready to march, JG,” Mahanani said.
An hour later they found the Skyhawk where they had left it, and thirty-five minutes later after a roundabout route, they settled down on the edge of the soccer field at Tinglat. It was a half hour to dawn when the SEALs hit their cots. Most went to sleep instantly.
That morning Murdock came alive at 0730, had chow, and reported to Mojombo’s tent. “One more cop station down and dirty,” Murdock said. “We picked up one slightly wounded. What’s with our spies in the capital city?”
“We set up a relay radioman down near ten-mile dock. These radios we took from the police are good for well over ten miles, so we can get reports. We changed the frequency on them so the cops can’t hear us. Tehabo reported in late last night. So far they have found no large number of guards around any of the police or military buildings. They did pick up one important statement that Kolda made to the newspapers. He said if the violence, the attacks by the Loyalist Army, do not stop, the American, Don Stroh, will be publicly executed tomorrow morning by a firing squad.”
22
Murdock gathered all the SEALs around him just outside his tent. He told them about the threat to Stroh. “So what are we going to do about it?”
“We find out where public executions are held,” Jaybird said.
Murdock pointed at Jaybird. “Go ask Mojombo and any of the Loyalists soldiers who might know. Move.”
“When we find out, we move out tonight, chopper down to the five-mile line, and infiltrate the area they will use for the execution,” JG Gardner said.
“Agreed. We’ll work out an exact time.”
“We take one Loyalist with us for each of us,” Lam said. “They have some good people.”
“Sounds reasonable. Go check with Mojombo.”
“We try to cut down the force protecting the area before any civilians or the death party comes,” Sadler said. “Which might postpone the deed.”
“Sounds good. Depends how and where they plan to do it.” Murdock frowned. “Hope it won’t be six riflemen with Stroh against a block wall on some downtown street.”
“Either we go in blackface and gloves, or we have to be totally hidden by daylight,” Jefferson said. “Hell, Howard and me will be okay. You honkies gonna be up a crick.”
“Trouble is, we’re a foot taller than most of these natives,” Howard said. “Hard to hide that.”
“Bradford, check with Mojombo to see if he’s heard anything from our spies. Maybe we could snatch him tonight before daylight and before they start the walk to the wall.”
Ching scowled. “Say it takes us twenty minutes to chopper to the five-mile zone. Then we infiltrate to the downtown area we want in another hour. We recon the potential lockups, pick out our hide-holes, and go to ground. Another half hour. We’ve burned up two hours to target. Unless the spies can pinpoint the holding cell.”
If we left here at 0100 we’d have some time to play with,” Donegan said. “Like if there was no good places to hide. We might have to pull back a ways. I like the blackface-and-gloves idea myself.”
Jaybird came back. “Mojombo says there is a wall just in back of the open market that was once used for executions. That could be the site. It would give us a lot of cover in the market stalls. He said the other spot could be the Central Police Station. It has a concrete-block wall on one side. It’s also been used before.”
“Great, we have two execution locales,” Vinnie Van Dyke said. “I don’t like the idea of splitting up our platoon.”
Lam came back, and everyone looked at him. “Mojombo says he knows what we’re thinking of doing. He’ll be over shortly to advise us. He says a one-on-one wouldn’t work with his men. But he could send along a squad of twelve men with a sergeant to be under the control of Commander Murdock. He’s talking to D.C. and will be here when he’s finished.”
Murdock drummed his fingers on his knee where he sat on the ground in front of his tent. “Kolda doesn’t have to be brilliant to know that us SEALs are still in his country. He can also figure out that his threat is going to pull us into his house. All he has to do is tell one of his Army colonels to provide him the firepower he needs for a good ambush, then try to lead us into the trap.
“We have two possible incarceration spots for the men. One would be the Government House, the other the Central Police Station. He knows that Mojombo has riddled the Central Station once before. So it must be vulnerable. So would he choose the Government Building? It could have more soldier guards, a greater number of rooms and places to hide the prisoners.”
Mojombo had walked up and listened to Murdock.
“Yes, I quite agree that he knows that we will try to outguess him. That still leaves the two spots where the men are held. I just heard from our men in the city. Tehabo has infiltrated the units at both spots. From what he says, the men at the police station are secretive but gloating in a way. They say if anyone tries to shoot their way into that area, they will be met with a total surprise. Nobody will say what it is, and Tehabo was run out twice when he tried to walk into the restricted area. It could mean they have a deadly ambush set up even though the men are not held there. Or it could mean the ambush is to protect the prisoners.”