Shouting orders, the officers had sent a team of men forward, toward the barricade in an effort to clear the way. As it turned out, this was nothing more than a suicide mission and those men quickly fell under the heavy enemy fire. One moment, they had been running down the road and the next, they dropped as if cut down by a scythe. Wu blinked, a little stunned by the sight. Undeterred, the officers simply sent more men to die and they would keep doing it until that barricade was gone.
He could see the young lieutenant who had chastised Wu earlier for being too loud. The officer stood amid the chaos like a rock, trying to direct the confused soldiers.
Wu drew his pistol and pointed it at the lieutenant, just a few yards away. Then he thought better of it. Even Wu realized that there was no point in satisfying his petty need for revenge when the entire column fought for survival.
As for himself, Wu was not about to stand by and do nothing. Normally, Chinese political offers took up stations as a kind of rear guard to shoot any man who retreated or shirked his duty. There was no need for that now.
“Come with me,” Wu said to Deng. “We are not doing any good here, but we must put our snipers to use.”
Wu had quickly gotten the lay of the land at the ambush site. Between the clearing and the road, there was nowhere for his snipers to set up. There was only one option that he could see.
He looked at Deng. “What do you think?” he asked.
Deng’s practiced eyes took in the surroundings. Like Wu, he had seen the cliff rising above them. It wasn't so steep that a man could not climb it, but it would be challenging. “Sir, we need to get up there. If we can get high enough, we may even be able to shoot down at the fort.”
Wu nodded. It was exactly what he had been thinking, that the cliff was their best option to do some good during this battle. The cliff face was enough of an obstacle to prevent the bulk of the troops from climbing it and flanking the fort, but a handful of men could manage it. Besides, the road had become a blood-soaked charnel house. Staying here meant certain death. “Gather the other snipers.”
Wu started up the steep slope, leading Deng and the two other snipers. The young officer yelled something at them as if thinking that they were fleeing, but Wu told him to go to hell.
Wu climbed. The steep slope required digging in with his knees, along with his hands and his elbows, fighting for every inch of progress up the cliff face. But he was undeterred even as his fancy uniform became covered in dirt and torn from briers.
Deng was more agile and soon passed him, reaching the top of the cliff. The last few feet of the climb were the most frightening because the top of the cliff curled out like a surly bottom lip. Wu struggled, his feet touching nothing but thin air, well aware that if he slipped he would tumble all the way to the road below. His stomach lurched at the notion. Wu felt himself starting to slip backwards and dug his knees frantically into the dirt and shale.
Finally, a hand reached down from above. Gratefully, he grasped Deng’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. Wu stayed on all fours for a full minute, catching his breath after the climb. The other two snipers pulled themselves up behind Wu, with Deng helping them up those last few feet of the lip.
With a sense of satisfaction, Wu saw that their efforts had been worthwhile. They had reached an ideal position. From the top of this cliff, they could look down and see the wall of the old fortress below. The sheer cliff face that dropped to the bastion itself was a barrier that prevented a flanking attack by an enemy. In the long-ago days of bow and arrow and spear, achieving this hill would have meant little because those ancient weapons would not have had the range to reach the defenders on top of the fortress wall. However, the defenders were easily within rifle range.
“Spread out,” Wu said, although the order was unnecessary because Deng and the other two men knew their business and were already finding vantage points from which to shoot.
Deng crouched behind a boulder that provided cover and also a stable surface on which to rest his rifle. Wu was only armed with his pistol and he cursed himself for not thinking to bring a rifle, even though he wasn't much of a shot. The pistol was more or less useless at this range. However, Wu had brought along his prized binoculars, almost as scarce as telescopic sights in the Chinese army, which still seemed to have one foot in the 19th century in terms of equipment production. These were German binoculars, a relic of the last war in Europe. Putting the binoculars to his eyes, Wu went to work looking for targets.
Not needing to wait for the major, the three snipers opened fire and immediately had a telling effect on the defenders along the top of the wall. The Chinese in the road below also fired at the old fort wall. With Wu’s snipers now in play, bullets were coming at the defenders from two directions. Did they even notice the snipers? Not right away. Too much heavy fire poured at them from the large numbers of troops in the road below, along with the occasional mortar and bursts of machine-gun fire. None of the defenders seemed to notice the snipers’ deadly toll.
“Aim for the officers,” Wu said, using his binoculars to scan the parapet for the most vital targets. He was surprised that there were not many defenders, after all — certainly no more than a platoon. It amazed Wu that they were holding the mountain pass against a much larger number. The Chinese force was comprised of an entire battalion, with hundreds of fighters.
Wu and his snipers alone could put a dent in the relatively small number of enemy troops. On the bastion below, Wu spotted a tall American giving orders. He shouted at Deng and directed his attention toward the officer. “There! Shoot that officer!”
Deng’s rifle fired and the officer crumpled. Smiling with satisfaction, Wu moved his binoculars along the fort wall, looking for additional targets. He was close enough that he could pick out individual characteristics of the defenders. He was surprised to see several Korean civilians. Traitors! Their time would come. But for now, it was the U.S. soldiers that the snipers must reap.
Although their faces were not detailed at this range, to his surprise, a man turned toward him as if sensing Wu and the snipers. From the hilltop, he saw that this soldier had a flag painted on his helmet. With a start, Wu realized this was the American sniper who had caused him so much grief. Finally, Wu would be able to eliminate him for good, which would be quite satisfying. But to do so, he wanted his best sniper to take the shot so that the opportunity would not be wasted.
He crept over to where Deng fired from behind his rock and tapped him on the shoulder. Deng had been about to fire and looked unhappily at the major, who had interrupted his shot, but knew better than to say anything. Wu pointed down at the fort.
“Toward the middle of that bastion is a sniper. The one with the flag on his helmet. Do you see him now through your scope?” When Deng nodded, Wu said excitedly, “You must shoot him. Shoot him!”
Deng pressed his eye tight against the rifle scope and lined up his sights on the man that Wu was pointing at. His calloused finger squeezed the trigger.
Cole suddenly flinched, both of them ducking low as a bullet from the road ricocheted off the remains of the parapet in front of them.
Beside him, the kid’s expression turned to surprise. “I’m hit,” he said. “Holy cow, that hurts.”
Then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed among the rocks of the shattered parapets.
It didn’t make sense that the kid had been hit by a ricochet, which had zinged off in another direction. Stunned, Cole realized that the bullet had not been fired from the road. It had come from behind them. Desperately, he looked around, caught a glimpse of something on the hilltop that anchored the western end of the fort. Somehow, an enemy sniper had gotten up there.