Contact them on your radios for confirmation.”
“We hear you,” the Russian voice answered. Again they waited.
Then the Russians answered with a new voice in English. “We have talked with our men in the headquarters. You speak the truth. Send out two of your officers for a conference. Come to the lighted area near our bow.”
A moment later a light blossomed at the front of the dark hovercraft.
“Let’s go talk,” Murdock said. “You did good, Ching. Remind me to tell you that later.”
They stood and walked toward the pool of light. Fifteen yards from the light they were aware of men lifting out of the darkness and following them.
“Always nice to be escorted,” Ching said.
“Tell them we’re coming in,” Murdock said.
“We’re coming in,” Ching said in Russian. “We’re about ten yards out with your troops behind us.”
“Good,” the voice said in English. “We would give you a typical Russian welcome, but you can understand our suspicions.”
They saw a Russian then, standing in the light. He was dressed all in black, wore a floppy hat, and carried a submachine gun. When he saw them, he lowered the weapon and held out his hand.
“Hello, Americans, and welcome to Russian territory. I am Captain Radiwitch.”
Murdock took another few steps and gripped the Russian’s hand.
“Hello yourself, Captain Radiwitch. I’m Commander Murdock of the U.S. Navy SEALS.”
Murdock’s EAR weapon was held in one hand and pointing down. Ching had also lowered the muzzle of his EAR.
“What happens now, American?”
“Now we work together. The little general who started this is still at large. We’re not sure where he is. We have two Russians with us who were in the garrison here. They can help us find the rest of the renegades.”
“I will talk with our commander,” the captain said. “Wait the moment one, please.” He vanished out of the light, and two soldiers with weapons slung moved into his place.
“Send over the two Russians,” Murdock said into his mike. “Ching, tell the two guards here that two Russians are coming from the darkness.” Into the lip mike Murdock said: “The rest of you SEALs stay put. We don’t want any accidents here. Wait until we get total agreement and clearance. It looks like a friendly situation, so far.”
As he finished whispering into the mike, two men came into the light. One was the captain; the other had silver leaves on his epaulets. He was not dressed in black, but in the traditional Russian winter uniform. He stepped forward and held out his hand.
Murdock took it. “I’m pleased to meet you, Colonel. I’m Commander Murdock, Navy SEALS.”
The Russian looked to the captain, who translated. Then the colonel smiled and shook his hand again.
“I am Lieutenant Colonel Hartzloff, in charge of this strike. How many men do you have?” Ching translated.
“I have fifteen SEALS, Colonel.” The captain translated.
The colonel nodded. “I have a hundred, all seasoned veterans.” He paused. “You have done all of this so far with only sixteen men?”
“We’re specialists in this kind of work, Colonel. Have you talked to your men at the headquarters building?”
The colonel nodded. “We have. They tell me you have weapons that shoot men and put them to sleep, but don’t kill them. How do you do this?”
“Sorry, we can’t tell you that, Colonel. What we can do is work together on this problem, and bring the Japanese general to bay before it gets light.”
The translation took longer this time.
The two Russians from the SEAL group walked into the edge of the light.
They said something in Russian, and the colonel smiled.
“So, they are helping you. Have they told you where this rebel general might be?”
“No, sir. We’re taking out the defensive outposts as we come to them and working north.”
Murdock’s earphone spoke. He held up one finger and listened.
“Skipper, Holt. The Night Fly boys tell me they have a two-truck or two-car convoy out about twenty klicks and heading north along the Pacific side.”
“They have a guess, Holt?”
“No, sir, but I do. Got to be the general and the rest of his men.”
“Thanks, Holt. Stay in contact with the pilot. We’ve got to do some planning.” Murdock took a step toward the colonel. “One of our aircraft reports a two-truck convoy about twenty kilometers to the north. We believe it is the general. I have a suggestion.”
The colonel waited for his translator to do his work.
“So?”
“We divide your force. A third of it can move to the road and use the six-by-six truck there. They can continue to suppress the outpost north of here three or four kilometers. There may be no one there.
Then these men can fan out and secure the rest of the island, and work back to the village.”
The Russian nodded when he had the words translated.
“Then what?” the translator asked.
“Then our fifteen men join you on your hovercraft, and we go back up the coast twenty kilometers. We land, find the truck convoy, and engage the general and his forces. Either he surrenders or his entire force is killed.”
The Russian colonel nodded as the translation went on.
“Yes, yes. I like,” the colonel said in English. “I have very bit English.” He beamed. “Yes, we do.”
He turned and snapped orders to some men in the shadows. Murdock watched as thirty soldiers formed up just out of the light and marched off toward the truck with one of the Russians the SEALs had brought with them. “Colonel, should I have my men come over?” Murdock asked.
The colonel looked up and nodded. Murdock used the lip mike and told them to get front and center.
Ten minutes later, the SEALs were on board the Russian hovercraft.
Before the big engines started, Murdock talked to the planes overhead on TAC Two.
“Night Fly, this is the SEAL bunch. Any more action on those truck lights?”
“SEALS, not much. Estimate they are about twenty-five klicks from the town’s lights along the Pacific coast. The movement has stopped.
Headlights are off. Best we can do from up here.”
“Thanks, Night Fly. Tell Home Base we’ve met the Russian air-cushion craft. Have talked with the commander and we’re now on board ready for a fast run up the beach to where you boys saw the headlights stop. We won’t be able to hear you when the engines start.
Thirty Russian marines are now combing the lower part of the island from where you saw the air cushion rig come ashore. They’ll work down to the town.
“We’re linked up with the other seventy Russian commandos for a surprise party for the general up north.”
“That’s a Roger, SEALS. Will relay the information to Home Base.
Good luck down there.”
The air-cushion engines began, and Murdock handed the mike back to Holt.
A minute later they edged down to the water, skimmed over it, and turned north. At forty-five knots it would take them less than thirty minutes to cover the twenty miles northward.
Murdock looked around the vessel. It was 155 feet long, he’d been told, and over fifty-eight feet wide. The troops and gear were all stowed in a hold that was covered. He wondered how the flyboys had decided that the first hovercraft the day before had been empty. He would never know. He tried to memorize as much about the craft as possible. It would come in handy for his after-action report.
The colonel sent the captain to take him to the bridge.
“We want you to see more of the ship,” the Russian captain said.
“The bridge is the best. Perhaps your radio will work from there, and your aircraft can give us some direction.”