Now Murdock and Jaybird were running up it.
Thousand-thirteen, thousand-fourteen. The explosion picked them up and threw them face down onto the road.
The Gazelle’s pilot had been careful to pull back out of cannon and machine-gun range before he allowed the gunner to launch the HOT missile. HOT time of flight to three thousand meters was thirteen seconds. To four thousand meters max range, it was 17.3 seconds.
When armor-piercing shape-charge warheads are tested, they leave holes in steel over a yard deep but less than an inch in diameter. Very much like a stream of water coming out of a hose and boring a hole in mud. But when a fast-moving missile with a shape-charge warhead hits steel, the dynamic impact effect is quite different.
The HOT hit with a blinding flash and blew a hole in the top of the BMP large enough for a man to climb through. The shape charge jet went all the way through the vehicle and out the floor. The forty rounds of 73mm cannon ammunition, two thousand rounds of machine-gun ammunition, and four Sagger missile reloads chain-detonated in rapid succession. White-hot flame blasted out all the hatch openings. The diesel fuel ignited in a fireball.
Murdock rolled in the dirt in case he was on fire. This time Jaybird dragged him to his feet, and they were running again. After a thirty-yard sprint up the road, they were able to get off it and into a wall of boulders that spread up into the mountaintop. After a short climb, they threw their weapons over the top of a boulder and scrambled over themselves. They landed in a sizable crevice in the rocks.
Explosions blow up and out, so Razor, DeWitt, and Higgins had been spared the force of the blast. But now flaming metal and debris was raining down all around them.
“Across the slope,” Razor shouted. “We gotta get up the road. Cut across the slope.”
Magic and Doc weren’t far from the BMP when the missile hit. Magic could feel the heat right through the soles of his boots. His head hurt. The back of the heavy drag bag had cracked him across the skull when he hit the ground.
They crawled down the road away from the flaming vehicle. Magic looked over and saw Doc’s trousers smoldering. He leaped up, pinned Doc down, and threw dirt on him to put it out. It was only then Magic realized that his clothing was smoking too. He rolled off Doc and threw handfuls of dirt over himself.
Doc was already up, and he saw what was on the way. He grabbed Magic by the webbing harness and pulled him over to the side of the road. After the first tug Magic rolled back onto his feet. They got off the road just as a second HOT missile exploded with an earsplitting roar. Right where they had been.
Doc shook his head to clear it. Talk about trying to kill mice with a howitzer.
Magic saw Higgins, Razor, and DeWitt sprint across the road higher up and start climbing up the rocks. Well, at least they knew where to go. He got Doc’s attention and pointed; both of them were still pretty deaf from the blast. Doc gave him a thumbs-up. They headed up across the slope, staying well below the surface of the road. They had to get past the destroyed BMP, which was still spitting flame and small explosions.
Murdock had heard the second HOT explode. It sounded as if it had been guided onto the road to try to take out some SEALs with the blast. He had no idea where the others were. He sprang up from the rocks to try to see what was happening, and immediately had his wind knocked out when Professor Higgins came sailing over and landed right on top of him. Murdock curled up into a ball and fought that terrible feeling of really needing to breathe air and not being able to.
Jaybird, meanwhile, was leaning over the rocks bellowing, “Up here, up here, on me, on me.”
While Murdock wheezed around in the dirt, people began climbing over the rocks.
He was grabbed and turned over. Ed DeWitt’s imperturbable face appeared before him. “You okay, Blake?”
Murdock only nodded. He’d just regained the ability to draw breath, and was fully occupied doing that.
“What the fuck happened to him?” he heard DeWitt demanding.
“I did it,” Higgins admitted. “I landed on him.”
“You fucked up the lieutenant, Higgins?” DeWitt asked, bewildered.
“Sure,” Jaybird broke in. “Did you think it was the Syrians?”
“Fuck you, Jaybird,” said Higgins.
“No, fuck you,” Jaybird replied.
“Shut up and spread out!” Razor Roselli screamed. “Get those long rifles broken out.”
Magic and Doc made it across the slope and past the BMP. Doc gave Magic a hand signaclass="underline" “You first, and I’ll follow.” You had to stay spread out, so if you had a misfortune the other guy wouldn’t get sucked in too.
Magic signaled OK, and sprinted across the road. He reached the rock and started climbing. Hands reached over the top to grab him. Doc showed up a few moments later.
“About time,” said Jaybird.
Doc, panting hard, fought off the urge to shoot him.
Razor got everyone positioned and then came over to check on Murdock.
“Have we got everyone?” Murdock demanded between gasps.
“Yeah, Boss.” Razor was talking fast, as he always did when he was excited. “We were watching through the periscope in back. We saw that helo turning around, and while you were still yelling me and the boys were blowing out of every hole in that BMP like shit through a goose. We just had to wait a bit; couldn’t head up the road until the ammo finished cooking off.”
“Anyone hurt?” Murdock demanded.
“A little shrapnel, a few burns. Just made us run faster. I think we broke the Iraqi Army’s world record for un-assing an armored vehicle under fire. Chicken-shit son of a bitch launched from max range. If he had the balls to get in close we’d all be ashes right now.”
“Shouldn’t have said that so loud, Chief,” Jaybird called out. “He’s coming in.”
35
While his fellow SEALs were scrambling among the rocks, Magic Brown was removing his massive rifle from the drag bag.
The McMillan M88 was a highly tuned bolt-action sniper rifle, scaled up in size to handle the huge.50-caliber machine-gun cartridge. It was fifty-three inches long, with a bulbous muzzle brake on the end of the barrel, an adjustable bipod, and a fixed five-round magazine. To make that great length more manageable, the black fiberglass stock broke down at a joint just behind the trigger group. The rifle weighed twenty-five pounds, including the Leupold Ultra Mk 4 16-power telescopic sight. Magic had screwed a 2-power converter onto the end of the scope to bring the total magnification up to 32-power. That much magnification threw up a lot of haze and mirage in the field of view, but was necessary for a rifle designed to shoot accurately beyond two thousand yards.
Although McMillan rifles were close to being a SEAL trademark, the M88 had been brought along on the mission because a great many had been sold around the world. Particularly to the French, who used them for counter-sniping in Bosnia. Magic had been careful to bring along the M88 instead of the similar but lighter and improved McMillan M93, which was almost exclusively in the SEAL inventory.
There was no flat place to set the rifle on its bipod, so Magic threw the empty padded drag bag over a rock and used it as a rifle rest.
Now that the BMP and its cannon and machine guns had been destroyed, the pilot of the Gazelle felt more comfortable about moving in close. He intended to use the high-magnification HOT sight to pick out the enemy in the rocks. His remaining missiles would blow them to bits. A range of one thousand meters ought to do just fine.
Razor Roselli was beside Magic acting as spotter. But the compact laser range finder the size of a small pair of binoculars wouldn’t be much use. The Gazelle’s range was changing every second. It was all going to be up to Magic.