Dawkins' group had reached the edge of the enemy camp, and the senior chief ordered his men to hit the dirt. Now they became the covering element while Brannigan led his group in a rush toward the huts. The return fire was steadily building up, but the SEALs replied in kind, sweeping the area with three-round automatic fire bursts from their M-16s. The mud construction of the buildings was pocked by multiple strikes of slugs as hunks of the material flew off in all directions. Brannigan's bunch took cover in the collapsed structure, putting down a heavy fire on the other two.
Dawkins led his men into the compound, taking cover near the donkey pen. Both groups of SEALs were now positioned to inflict a heavy cross fire into the other buildings. The fiery fusillades struck windows and blew holes in the walls from two directions. Most of the resisters were down within a half minute, their sprawled corpses badly torn up by multiple hits from the 5.56 rounds. A half-dozen defenders toward the rear couldn't take it anymore. They pulled away from their fighting positions and made a run out the rear where there was no incoming fire.
Bruno Puglisi and Joe Miskoski saw the six people running toward them. The two SEALs lay on the ground, their sniper rifles supported by bipods. They began aiming through the telescopic sights, their trigger fingers working methodically and rhythmically. Every round was a head shot, and the fleeing men's craniums began bursting open like hot ripe watermelons being struck by hard blows from a baseball bat. A couple were flipped over on their backs, three spun around before collapsing to the ground, and the sixth continued running for an astounding half-dozen paces without a head before he stumbled and fell.
The battle was over.
Back among the buildings, most of the SEALs glanced over at the donkeys. They were glad to see that none had been injured during the short, blazing firefight. Senior Chief Dawkins bellowed, What the hell are you standing around for? Check the area out! There might be some crazy ragheads playing dead.
The men moved through the debris, noting the corpses of the defenders. All had died in the heavy hail of bullets from the attackers. Pete Dawson announced, These guys ain't rag-heads. They're military. See? Ever'one of 'em is wearing some sort of uniform.
Chad Murchison, who collected military insignia as a hobby, knelt down beside one dead man for a closer look. Hey! This isn't the Afghan Army. They're Iranians.
Brannigan walked up. Are you sure, Murchison?
Yes, sir, Chad replied. Those are Iranian insignia without a doubt.
Brannigan looked around. Where the hell is Leibowitz?
Here, sir!
Get out that digital camera and take pictures of these guys, the Skipper said. Commander Berringer will be interested in this.
As Leibowitz went to work recording the unexpected evidence, the rest of the detachment began searching for more intelligence. By that time, Puglisi and Miskoski had rejoined the group. Nobody got away, Miskoski announced.
Puglisi gave his AS-50 a fond look. I wish the Godfather in my old neighborhood hadn't been ratted out. If he was still running the family, I could use this baby to make a lot of money whacking guys he didn't like.
You fucking gangster, Miskoski remarked dryly.
Hey, it's a living, Puglisi protested.
Dawkins reported to the Skipper, informing him the search was finished without any significant results. These dead Iranians got nothing that would interest Commander Berringer.
Okay, Brannigan announced. Let's get back to the DPVs. We've still got the main smuggler group to deal with.
Sir, Gomez said. There ain't anybody to feed them donkeys. Let me put some fodder out in the troughs and make sure they got enough water for at least a few days, okay?
Sure, Brannigan acquiesced. But hurry up!
Gutsy Olson, Garth Redhawk, and Pech Pecheur joined him to take care of the animals, who were badly shook up from the noise of the gunfight. It only took ten minutes to make sure the beasts of burdens could get by comfortably for a little while.
Form up! Dawkins yelled.
The SEALs quickly fell into a column formation and headed back toward their vehicles with Assad and Leibowitz in the lead.
.
OPIUM DELIVERY SITE
IRANIAN SIDE OF THE BORDER
1100 HOURS
THE sale of the opium poppy powder was not made in Turkey. Instead, the transaction occurred a short distance away on the Iranian side of the border. This temporary arrangement had been necessary due to the increased activity of Turkish Army and police units. These groups had been showing a growing propensity to search out poppy smugglers, even if the Turks could not legally cross over the international border to make arrests. This increased activity had also stymied the arms dealer Harry Turpin; he was unable to bring in an anticipated load of ammunition.
To make sure the restless Turks stayed in their own country, strong armored units of the Iranian Army had scheduled maneuvers in the immediate area. They were well prepared to deal with any incursions into their own native land. The armed Toyota pickup trucks were arranged in such away as to provide an effective defense in case the Turkish authorities decided to use harassing fire to break up the confab.
No money was exchanged at the site. Those individuals involved in the commerce conducted the financial end of the business through banks in Switzerland. Dummy corporations in Asia were used to launder the dollars, euros, pounds, francs, and marks that filtered through the elaborate system. Even agencies of the United Nations were involved, as shady agents of the international organization gave priority to the narcotics trade over humanitarian efforts when there was a great deal of money to be made.
Arsalaan Sikes Pasha stood to the side as the bundles were transferred from the trucks to the smugglers' vehicles. These intrepid Turkish criminals had already worked out alternative routes for getting the goods through their nation's law enforcement nets. While the dealing was going on, Husay Ban-gash and a couple of other Pashtuns made purchases on credit from peddlers who offered tools, housewares, food, clothing, and other items from the West. These were the goodies loaded on the donkey train that would be taken from the rendezvous point back up to the stronghold in the Gharawdara Highlands. The debt would be paid out of the shares due Yama Orakzai and his people from the poppy sales.
Captain Naser Khadid stood beside Sikes as the exchanges went on. Well, Sikes Pasha, the Iranian SF officer said, now you can see why the Pashtun people appreciate all that Pepsi and potato chips and the other items that Bangash brings back with him from these journeys.
I was looking over there, Sikes said. I noticed some boxes of chocolate biscuits. Those should be popular.
And this time there are also canned fruit juices that had not been available before, Khadid said. Peach and apple flavors will make a nice change. It is unfortunate there is no ice to make them taste better.
Them Pashtos don't know the difference, hey? Sikes remarked. If you'd never tasted icing, you wouldn't mind just plain cake, would you? He turned his glance over to the bundles still being off-loaded and on-loaded in the exchange. It wouldn't seem there'd be enough money in these runs to pay for a war.
This exchange is just part of it, Khadid explained. Our government is also involved in the sale of the finished product. Every time a Western drug addict or some rich person using the narcotics for recreation makes a purchase, they are financing not only our operation, but other similar ones all over the world.
Yeah, Sikes said. And there ain't no bluddy way the Western world can put a stop to it, is there, hey?