As he shakily did so, Grigori yelled out in perfect English, “Good morning, gentlemen! We’re both assigned to the Army’s 7th Infantry Division at Fort Ord. We’ve been sent down here on direct orders of the Secretary of the Defense, to attempt to penetrate your defenses.”
The gangly American Air Force officer was quick with his response.
“We know nothing about such an operation. Please remain standing still, with your hands overhead, while I send a team in to check your credentials.”
He signalled to his right, and two brawny soldiers appeared. One of these individuals held a large German shepherd dog by a taut leash. Pulling out their handguns, they began walking quickly forward.
Dmitri watched their progress and felt his heart pounding in his chest. He knew very well that, although their accents and uniforms might temporarily fool the Americans, they had no proper credentials. His mouth was dry and breath heavy when he suddenly swooned back dizzily.
This sudden, unexpected movement caused the Americans to abruptly stop dead in their tracks. As they simultaneously crouched to raise their weapons, the German shepherd lunged forward and its leash slipped from its handler’s grip. Angrily growling, the huge tan-and-black dog raced towards the nearby circle of rocks.
Disoriented by his loss of balance, and guided by the illogical grasp of fear-induced panic, Dmitri reached for the.45-caliber pistol that he had hidden beneath the belt at the small of his back. Raising it before him, he managed to hold it steady and shoot the dog smack in its head. No sooner had it tumbled to the ground than Dmitri turned the weapon on the dog’s handler. Another shot rang out, and this time an American soldier fell, mortally wounded. Dmitri was already turning the pistol toward the startled American who stood at his fallen comrade’s side when an iron-like grasp pulled him down behind the shelter of the rocks. A second later, the first bullets whined into the stone ledge.
“Have you gone insane?” cried Grigori as he scrambled for the weapons that they had left on the floor beneath them.
“Why in hell did you do such a foolish thing? Not only did you almost commit suicide, but now you’ve just about doomed the success of our mission as well!”
Having snapped back to his senses, Dmitri timidly picked up a M16. “I’m sorry, comrade. I don’t know what got into me.”
The blast of an exploding grenade sent a shower of ricocheting stone down onto their heads, and both men ducked for cover. As the fragments settled, Grigori grabbed for his Uzi.
“You’ve left us no alternative, comrade. Now, we must fight for our very lives.”
Peeking up over the rim of protective rock, he sprayed the horizon with a hail of 9-mm. bullets.
Ever conscious of the unalterable course of violent action that he had brought down on them, Dmitri grabbed the M16 and joined his teammate. He raised its sights in just enough time to center them on the chest of an advancing American. The soldier had just pulled the pin from a grenade and was about to lob it over his head when Dmitri’s shot took him down.
When the wounded man dropped the already primed grenade, it exploded in a showering torrent of razor sharp shrapnel. As a result of this, two of his countrymen fell to the ground beside him.
Dmitri concentrated on protecting their western and northern flanks, while Grigori took aim at the line of soldiers coming in from the south. Because they had a well-protected vantage point and plenty of ammunition, they were able to stop their attackers from closing in all together. Prone on their bellies, a good fifty yards away, the Americans could only hope that a lucky shot would hit its mark.
“Commander One, this is Able Team leader. I’m afraid the opposition is a bit stiffer than we had anticipated. Five of my men are down. Some air support would sure be appreciated.”
Taking in this breathless request, which was delivered with a background accompaniment of staccato like rifle blasts, Deputy Commander Bill Rose instantly replied, “We’re coming in, Able Team. This won’t take long.”
Signaling the pilot with a raised right fist, Rose held on as the Huey gained altitude and shot over the hills they had been hiding behind. It didn’t take him long to spot the circle of rocks from which an occasional puff of gunfire broke. Circling the battlefield, he determined the positions of their own men. He couldn’t help but notice that several of these young soldiers were sprawled out on the sandy soil, their limbs blood-covered and not moving. His face tightened in anger, and he pointed towards the enemy’s position.
“Let’s get those bastards. Lieutenant!”
In response to this passionate directive, the pilot guided the Huey in to attack. On their first two sweeps, they saturated the rock ledge with 7.62mm. bullets spat forth from their chin-mounted mini-gun.
It was on the third pass that they began blasting into the stone itself, with their TOW fire-and-forget antitank missiles.
A resounding explosion followed the detonation of the first of these powerful missiles. This was accompanied by a thick cloud of dense white smoke. Well aware that they still carried another five tow’s in reserve. Rose anxiously licked his lips in anticipation of the next approach.
“My goodness, Grigori, what was that?”
Dmitri’s shaken voice emanated from deep inside a crevice of rock, where the Spetsnaz operatives had crawled to escape the Huey’s bullets. With his ears still buzzing from the deafening blast that only seconds ago had shaken them, he caught the look of solid confidence on his teammate’s face.
“That, comrade, was most likely one of their TOW antitank missiles,” whispered Grigori.
“I doubt if we’ll be able to take many more concussions like that one, without the entire ledge sliding down on top of us.”
Slipping out of the crevice, Grigori reached for the Stinger that still lay inside its protective case. Rather meekly, Dmitri followed him out into the cramped clearing, which the rocks surrounded. He looked on as his teammate hastily took hold of the shiny black, tube-like weapon and efficiently made some last second adjustments.
“How do you plan to counter this antitank weapon, Grigori?”
“Reload your M16 and prepare to give me some covering fire, comrade. We still have a single chance.
I’m going to take out that Huey, then turn the Stinger on the space shuttle. If the fates are still with us, my aim will be true, and we’ll accomplish our glorious mission after all. Now, take courage, Dmitri Andreyev. Our finest hour has finally arrived!”
Inspired by these words, Dmitri took a last fond look at his teammate, then reached out to insert another cartridge case into his rifle. Seeing that Grigori was ready for action, he stood upright and, resting the barrel of the M16 on top of the rock ledge, began spraying the surrounding landscape with bullets.
Grigori wasted no time taking a position behind him. A quick scan of the horizon allowed him to catch sight of the helicopter as it prepared to sweep in from the north. No sooner had the first bullets begun blasting from its mini-gun than the Spetsnaz operative calmly sighted his quarry and pulled the launcher’s trigger. Instantly, the weapon kicked backward and the air filled with an ear-splitting report. A resonant roar sounded as the Stinger’s smooth-case fragmentary warhead shot out in a blinding burst of supersonic speed. Guided by the red-hot exhaust plume of the approaching chopper, the missile soared upwards and smacked into its target. A resounding blast followed and the sky filled with flaming debris.
Conscious that the helicopter would give them no more problems, Grigori reached down to begin the process of reloading the Stinger. The still-smoking barrel was scorching with heat, yet he shoved the new missile inside it anyway. In the process of pivoting to set its sights on the southern horizon, Grigori noticed that the chatter of the M16 had stopped behind him.