If they had the President, he was in that guarded tent. What else would they guard? Yes, they had kidnapped the President. Was there any way Lam could get him out? The back of the tent stood only ten feet from the brush and tall trees.
Silently Lam worked backward and away from the camp. He moved fifty yards and then flipped down the swinging microphone and talked on the net.
“SEALs, I found them. My guess maybe four miles from the ranch house. They are on the edge of a meadow, maybe twenty acres. Somebody there might know where it is. They have a campsite that was built before tonight. Two ten-man tents and a generator for electricity. One of the tents is guarded, so my guess is that the President is inside. I need some backup. Suggest the platoon come on down.”
“Copy that, Lam,” Murdock said. “We’ll ask the locals if they know where that meadow is and if they can guide us there. Be in touch in five and on our way in ten.”
“Roger.”
Lam found a good spot and lay down. He rested his head on his hands and relaxed. He would hear the platoon if it came within two hundred yards of him. Murdock called back on the net that he had found one of the cowboys who knew of the meadow and would lead them to it. Lam rested for half an hour, then moved back along the trail toward the ranch for five hundred yards. Best to catch the troops away from the target and make their plans.
A half hour later, Lam came upright in a rush. Sounds, muted, the soft noise of someone moving through the woods. He relaxed. The sound came from the trail toward the ranch. He picked out a sturdy pine tree and stood behind it waiting to see if it really was the SEALs.
Lam watched the men approach. It was Murdock out front. Lam stepped out from the tree, waved, and then pointed his finger at them.
“Bang, bang, you’re dead,” he said.
Murdock stutter-stepped and then got his stride.
“You always surprise me that way, Lam. The cowboy led us to where we could see the meadow and then he went back. It looks like a camp that’s been there for some time?”
“Right. Small stream for water, generator, tents, the works. No rancher is going to put a setup like that out in here. The Koreans must have done a lot of planning for this hit.”
They walked forward. They talked in whispers.
“Is there any way to get the President out of there before we gun down the place?” Murdock asked.
“I think so,” Lam said. “The back of the tent comes within ten feet of the brush. I should be able to get to it, slit the tent open, and get inside unseen. Then take care of any interior guard and hustle the President out the back into the brush, and you guys open fire as soon as we clear.”
Murdock nodded. He passed the sign back down the line of SEALs for total quiet, and they marched on.
When they came within thirty yards of the tents, they stopped. Murdock moved the men into positions where they had open fields of fire. They were slightly above the level of the tents and had plenty of targets. Murdock had mandated no 20mm’s would be fired. When all the men were in favorable firing spots with cover, Murdock waved Lam forward.
He moved slowly, working on his belly the last ten yards to the fringe of woods just in back of the tent he figured the President would be in. Lam lay there for five minutes listening to the Koreans, watching for any more guards, checking to see if anyone walked behind the President’s tent. No one did.
It was time.
Lam edged out of the brush and took four quick steps to the back of the tent. He had his KA-BAR knife out, pushed the sharp point through the canvas head high, and pulled it slowly down. It made a soft slicing sound, and then he had it open to the bottom.
Lam pulled the sides of the tent apart and looked inside.
19
Lam could see little inside the tent. Only a dim candle burned. A cot to one side held some blankets, but he couldn’t be sure if anyone lay there. Cautiously he pushed the opening wider and stepped through. Two steps brought him to the bed. No one there. He looked around the tent. The rest of it was nearly empty, no cots or other gear. On a small table he saw a large briefcase, and recognized the Presidential seal on the side. He checked it. The lock had been broken and inside were hundreds of sheets of paper and file folders. Must be important.
He heard voices outside, and stepped quickly to the front of the tent to the side away from where the flap would open. A new voice came in English.
“Hell of a note when a guy can’t even take a piss by himself. You sure you went two years to UCLA?”
“Quite certain, Mr. President told them I was a South Korean. Now if you’ll just go back in the tent and have a nap, this night will be over before you know it and we’ll be on our way again. Our transport will be here a half hour after dawn. So be well rested and ready for travel.”
“By then you’ll be chatting away with your honored ancestors in hell, or wherever you people go.”
“Wishful thinking, Mr. President. Now inside.”
The flap opened and a man came through. Lam had never seen the President in person. The man stepped inside, went to the cot, and sat down heavily.
“Where in hell are the Marines when you need them?” he asked out loud. Lam moved without a sound on the canvas floor to the far side of the President and called out softly.
“Don’t be alarmed, Mr. President.”
President Dunnington’s head jerked up and he stared at the man in the shadows of the one candle.
“What in hell?”
“Not the Marines, Mr. President,” Lam said softly as he stepped toward the Chief Executive. “Just a few SEALs come to help you out of this mess. Should I carry your briefcase as we go through the back of the tent?”
The President looked at the long slit in the tent and laughed softly. “Oh, yes, that would be good. You with Murdock?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Damn good. Let’s move.”
They stepped through the slit in the tent one at a time, and Lam carried the heavy briefcase. The President ran into the woods, and Lam came right behind him. He stopped the President.
“We have to move slowly and without a sound so they don’t know you’re gone. We need thirty yards to clear before the rest of the platoon opens fire. Straight ahead, Mr. President.”
It seemed to Lam that it took forever before they were thirty yards away from the tent. He saw Murdock on the ground ready to fire, and waved at him.
Murdock pulled down the mike. “Nobody is in the tent on the left. Riddle the other one and get anybody who comes out. Open fire.”
Lam helped the President sit down, then pulled the MP-5 off his back and joined in. The MP-5’s stuttered out three-round bursts. The 5.56 rounds spurted out of the Bull Pups, and the rest of the weapons rained instant death on the North Koreans. The tent on the right ripped into shreds and fell. Men spewed out of it firing to the rear, but were cut down at once. Lam rushed the President behind a big pine tree, then found a pine himself and fired around it. Two men fell into the campfire and didn’t move. A half-dozen tried to run into the brush beyond the small clearing, but were flattened by the withering fire of the automatic rifles and the H & K 21A1 machine gun. When the SEALs saw no one moving, they slowed their firing, and then stopped.
“Donegan, Bradford, make sure,” Murdock said. The two SEALs lifted from their cover and moved up to the scene slowly, watching for any movement. Bradford swung to the right and fired three rounds at a North Korean who lifted up with his rifle. The man flopped down and stayed.
Donegan moved closer and then into the clearing. He fired a single shot, and moved on. Bradford fired another single round to put a wounded man out of his misery. SEALs take no prisoners.