“It’s the god-damned Navy’s fault. The fucking Navy has done this to my family. Gonna ask for a hardship discharge and get as far away from Navy people as I can. Move out of Coronado for damn sure.” He said the words out loud not caring if anyone heard. He snorted. He’d decided to move a dozen times in the last two days. He was so confused and angry and overwhelmed that he didn’t know what the hell he was thinking. Give it some time, his friends told him. Yeah, some friends. Cremation. He and Nancy had decided on that a long time ago. Death was the end. Yes, they both believed that. No heaven, no loved ones waiting for you “on the other side.” You had life and when it was over, it was over. No afterlife. What a ridiculous idea perpetrated by religion for it’s own ends. Now he was a fucking philosophy major, for Chris’ sake. He was really going off the deep end.
Will wondered how the Platoon was doing. Would it have a new mission? What the hell could the men do against China, anyway? Too damn big, too many men, too many people.
He looked at the TV set and turned it on. Maybe there was a good war movie on. Yeah, Bataan or Battle of the Bulge or even a good John Wayne flick. He began surfing the channels with the beeper. Tomorrow he had to take Helen in to see that shrink. A Navy guy who had called him and volunteered. Damn nice of him. Helen was taking this the hardest.
Damn car wreck. If she hadn’t killed that kid, she would have been okay. Beat up and angry, and doing some jail time, but alive. Yeah, alive and getting better. Sometimes he figured they had the damn suicide thing whipped; then she would remember her dad and how he had abused her when she was just ten, and the whole fucking thing flooded back and she would be out of it for a week or more. How could a father do that to a kid, to his own kid? He’d never know. God, he missed Nancy already. What was it going to be like in a week, then a month, then a year? Damn. He decided to walk around the block again. Wear off some of the tension, maybe get tired enough to sleep three or four hours. At least he hoped so.
It took three days to put together all the elements of the “invasion” package. They had to have a TV studio in Calcutta make up the reel-to-reel tape for of the machine gun fire, combat explosions, and aircraft roaring past. That held them up a day.
The explosives were another problem. India at last rounded up enough 20 percent dynamite and some black powder from field guns to do the job. The trucks took another day to transport everything to the small village of Jogbani close to the border with Nepal.
The SEALs and Marines landed from choppers an hour after the trucks arrived in the village. It was dusk, and Murdock began assigning tasks and moving people and explosives. It took four hours to get the explosives set out in the quarter-mile arc aimed at Nepal. Then Jaybird went to each cache and put in the radio-controlled detonator. He had only a forty-eight-frequency board, so he put two detonators with similar frequencies in nearby stacks of explosives. They were simply placed on the ground in the open to give the loudest and most dramatic effect. By 2200 they were ready.
Howard Anderson took care of the sound equipment. He set up the speakers, aimed them, checked over the electric generators, and fired them up to be sure the gasoline engines would start. It was all wrapped up by 2400 and Murdock sent the men into a field to sack out. He had tight security around the whole complex, and Jaybird would sleep with his detonator broadcaster.
A half hour after they stood down, a jeep rolled into the area and an Indian Army General stepped out and asked to see whoever was in charge. Murdock was called, and he came with Don Stroh who was along for the ride.
“Commander, I’m General Gaya Chhapra. I have been ordered by my commander-in-chief that the diversion you plan here should go ahead at once and not wait until tomorrow night. It’s been too long now. Can you get the operation started within a half hour?”
Murdock frowned. “Yes, General. I’m not sure who has command of this operation from a start/stop standpoint. However, I don’t see any reason not to do it now. Please stand by and watch, then you can report back.”
Murdock found Jaybird who roused the rest of the SEALs who had operational jobs, and he dug out his firing board. The gas engines sputtered into life and came up to speed. Jaybird told Murdock on the Motorola that he was ready.
“Start the loud speakers,” Murdock said on the net and the four speakers began blasting out machine gun fire and all kinds of attack sounds including big guns, tanks, and aircraft.
“Fire at will, Jaybird,” Murdock ordered.
The first two explosions rocked the countryside. All those who could move lifted up and ran to the rear to be away from the rest of the real-life explosions. Jaybird worked his firing board like a symphony orchestra, some on the right, then the left and some in the middle. He spread them out but his last charge went off at a little before the twenty-minute mark. Murdock let the loud speakers roll for ten minutes more, then shut them down.
The silence was deafening.
“Wow, is it quiet out here in the country,” Ostercamp said. The others agreed with him.
“Let’s get this place cleaned up and get out of here,” Murdock said. There wasn’t much to clean up: A few wooden explosive cases, the PA systems and generators to recover and put on the truck.
Lam ran up to Murdock. “We’ve got company coming from across the border,” Lam said. “A jeep and a truck. About a quarter of a mile off.”
“SEALs on me with your weapons and live rounds. We’re moving out to find some line crossers.”
The Marines had their weapons but no ammunition. Murdock’s thirteen men assembled quickly and they took off at a trot toward the Nepal border. They had their usual mix of weapons, with one EAR and only one Bull Pup.
They jogged for three hundred yards and went to ground. Murdock crawled up to Lam who had signaled the laydown.
“Right over there, skipper,” Lam said, pointing with his MP5 submachine gun. Murdock took a look. In the wavering moonlight he saw what had to be a dozen men dropping off a six-by type truck with canvas top.
“Move up both squads in a line of skirmishers. I’m thirty yards ahead of you. We have fifteen to twenty visitors. Keep it quiet.”
Murdock watched the Chinese infantrymen ahead of him fifty yards as they gathered together while someone talked to them. Murdock was tempted to have the two of them fire while the Chinese were bunched up, but he waited.
The Chinese had just started to spread out when Jaybird hit his Motorola.
“We’re ready, Skip, we see the targets.”
“Open fire,” Murdock said. Fourteen guns blazed in the night sky. Half of the enemy troops went down with the first few rounds from each weapon, then the firing tapered off as targets became scarcer.
Murdock had the one Bull Pup. He put two 20mm rounds into the six-by truck and saw it catch fire. The jeep ahead pulled away, but Murdock tracked it and sent one round into the engine, jolting it to a stop.
“Cease fire,” Murdock said into the mike and the guns went silent.
“Don’t hear a fucking thing out there,” Lam said. “Must be a few of them still on their feet.”
“We take any return fire?” Murdock asked on the net.
“Didn’t see any muzzle flashes,” Fernandez said. “They were too worried about getting out of there.”