“Unless they figure that’s what we would figure,” Lam said with a big grin.
“We can’t stay here all night. Lam, you have your Pup. You stay here with your ears on. We get the platoon in position down the way, I’ll give you a go on the lights. You nail both and run your ass down to where the rest of us will be waiting. As soon as you get there, we go across the fucking road.” Murdock whacked Lam on the shoulder.
“Give us twenty minutes to get into position.” Murdock and Jaybird took off at a run to get back to the platoon.
27
Murdock moved his men as close to the highway as the terrain permitted. He had cover to within forty yards of the road. He and the rest of the platoon were fifty yards from the searchlight with the beam pointed the other way. It was dark on this side for as far as he could see to the south.
He used the Motorola. “Okay, Lam, take out the lights.”
The sound of the 20mm round exploding on the nearest six-foot-high searchlight came almost at once. The light died. A moment later, the other light two hundred yards away exploded as well, and the beams of light coming toward where the SEALs lay snapped off.
“Let’s move up slowly, watching everything,” Murdock said. “Go now. Walk. We don’t want any surprises. Over this highway and then we hope to make it to the beach in a rush. Easy now.”
The line of SEALs spread ten yards apart moved toward the moonlit blacktop road. They heard some voices to the right where the searchlights had shone. No sounds came from directly ahead. They worked through a shallow ditch at the side of the highway and went up the shoulder. Murdock watched the far side of the roadway where it dropped off six or eight feet to the beach sand. He could see nothing.
The flat crack of an AK-47 on full auto slammed through the silence. “Get down,” Murdock barked into the network. The fourteen SEALs went prone in the small ditch as a dozen weapons opened up across the highway, directly in front of them. They had just enough cover in the ditch to keep from being slaughtered.
“Grenades,” DeWitt shrilled into the Motorola. The SEALs had started out with six hand bombs each. They had used some. Fourteen grenades sailed across the blacktop and vanished on the other side. They went off in a staccato of death against the gunmen defending the road. One grenade had been a WP, and its bright burning streamers of white phosphorus lit up the night sky for a dozen seconds.
The SEALs saw a few heads showing over the rim of the roadway. A barrage of fire barely skimming the road surface made direct hits on four of the curious heads. One Colombian soldier began screaming and couldn’t stop.
The rifle fire from across the road ceased.
“Pull back,” Murdock said into his lip mike. “Back to some cover. Those trees will be best. Go, now.”
They sprinted for the trees and made fifty yards before the defenders could send more shots after them. Murdock took a squad check. Lam called in from behind them.
“Why didn’t you guys wait for me?” he asked.
Murdock heard DeWitt get a net check. Five men came on the set. DeWitt waited a minute. “Quinley, are you with us?” There was no reply. “Quinley, can you hear me?”
As DeWitt called, the Colombians launched another round of rifle fire from their secure position in the drop-off across the highway.
The SEALs took cover behind trees and a small hump of land.
“Ed, we can’t go look for Quinley now. We’ve got to reduce those forces over there.”
“Yeah, how?” DeWitt asked.
“How close can these twenties explode in an airburst?” Jaybird asked.
Murdock frowned. Everyone had talked about long range on them. “Let’s find out. We’re back about fifty yards. I’ll laser a round at the far edge of the pavement and see what happens.” Murdock leaned around the tree, sighted in on the shadowy edge of the pavement, found the focus spot, and pulled the trigger. He still wasn’t used to the heavy thump of the recoil from the 20mm round. The shell exploded in an airburst almost at once at the far edge of the pavement.
“Yes,” shouted Jaybird.
“Two twenties for every Pup shooter,” Murdock said. “Laser the far edge of the pavement. Should work.”
They fired and the ten airbursts rained death down on the Colombians hiding behind the drop-off.
The return fire from the highway cut off. In the sudden silence they could hear some screams, an order barked out, and then no voices at all.
“Mahanani and I are going to find Quinley,” DeWitt said.
“Go,” Murdock said. He considered storming the roadway now. The chance that the Colombians had pulled out was good but not sure. How many men would he lose if there was even a squad left there with the AK-47s? Too many. He’d wait on Quinley. The man might be seriously wounded.
No firing came for three minutes.
“Murdock. Just found Quinley. He’s gone. Took a round through the side of his head. KIA. Should I bring him back there, or are we going over the side here?”
“Have Mahanani check over the far side for any hostiles. Sorry about Quinley. We take him with us.”
“Yeah. Take him. Mahanani is checking. Oh, he just went over the side below the highway. Must be clear. He’s back up.”
Mahanani bent low and ran back to where DeWitt lay.
“Yeah, slaughtered about fifteen of them. Spread all over. Equipment, ammo, even food. Bugged out anybody who was alive. We should be able to get down there and then make a run for the surf. Figure it’s about fifty, maybe seventy-five yards off. Almost no waves.”
“Murdock, you hear Mahanani’s report?”
“Yeah. Both of you go over the side and check each way for thirty yards. Want to be damn sure.”
“On our way.”
The two SEALs dropped over the lip into the sand and sprinted. DeWitt went right, Mahanani left. Moments later, they hit the net.
“Clear right,” DeWitt said.
“Clear left,” Mahanani said.
“Moving in. We’ll bring Quinley with us. Set up some protection both ways.”
“Skipper, there’s some kind of a pier sticking out into the sea south maybe a hundred yards from where I am. A few boats along it. Look like fishing boats.”
“Noted. Thanks.”
Five minutes later, the SEALs dropped over the side of the highway into the sand. They moved twenty yards left to get away from the dead bodies and began to stow their radios in the waterproof compartments on their combat vests.
“Somebody coming from the right,” Lam said. “Vehicle with no lights.”
“Down, everyone,” Murdock called.
The rig came closer, then a machine gun chattered from a mount on the vehicle. Lam put a 20mm round into the gun flashes. When the round hit, it detonated, silencing the machine gun and probably killing the driver. The jeep’s engine sputtered and stopped.
“No more firing,” Murdock called. “We’ll see who else comes. Get your gear ready for wet. Set up in an arc around this spot. Lam, watch over the pavement to see if they bring anybody up that way.”
All was quiet for a minute. Then they heard equipment rattling, jingling. The Colombians were coming. There were no gun flashes to give them away, but every SEAL on the beach knew they were coming. No time to get into the water. Someone would carry Quinley, and that would slow them all down.
Murdock watched to the right. They must have most of their men there. He checked his situation. They were hard against the six-foot drop-off from the highway for rear protection. Open on the other three sides. Water in front. Beach both ways. No way to see any terrain features.