"Now, I am ready," he said. Charley translated. Murdock lifted his right hand and saluted the general. General Soo returned the salute. Then Murdock lowered his hand to his MP-5 and put three rounds into the Korean's heart. General Soo slammed backwards, knocked the frying pan off the stove, and landed on the floor on his back, his unseeing eyes staring at the ceiling.
"Make sure," Murdock said.
Jaybird walked up to the general and put one round of 9mm into his head.
"Let's get out of here," Murdock said. They picked up DeWitt and his men just outside.
"Trouble," DeWitt said. "They have half-a-dozen armed men at the north gate we came in. Saw only two at the main gate."
"They know where we are?" Murdock asked.
"Don't think so."
Murdock put his four men with the NATO-round sniper rifles at the door.
"Take out the men at the north gate," he told them. "Fire when you're ready."
The H&K PSG1's with their bolt action fired into the men at the north gate. Three went down on the first volley. By the time they knew they were under fire and reacted, two more hit the North Korean dirt. The last one jolted through the door outside and ran out of sight.
"Let's double-time for the main gate," Murdock said. The gate was fifty yards away across the courtyard to the south. The fifteen men ran flat out. They took fire from the rear, then saw the guards on the main gate. The four SEALs in front laid down a frontal assault fire, their weapons on three-round bursts or fully auto. They didn't hit much, but made the NKs scurry for cover.
Halfway there they came to a military six-by-six truck, and hid behind it to catch their breath. A dozen rounds from the gate hit the truck.
"Grenades," Murdock shouted. Four SEALs lofted the small hand bombs at the gate. When they went off, the men threw four more.
"When they blast, we hit the gate at a run," Murdock called out. Somewhere along the line they had lost their hostage. No matter. The grenades exploded with their 4.2-second fuses, and the SEALs charged the gate. They met no opposing fire. As they charged past the gate and two vehicles they found three men dead.
Murdock checked the rigs. One was a civilian car of undetermined make, the other a military six-by truck.
"Douglas," Murdock called. "Can you make that truck run?"
"Damn right." He crawled into the cab, checked around, and a moment later the engine fired.
"Load up, and we're out of here," Murdock said. The SEALs and two Koreans scurried into the truck and it pulled out. Murdock put Charley in the cab with him and Douglas.
"We need to go east," Murdock said. He looked at Charley. "Any idea how to get to Taedong?"
"No way, Jose," Charley said, and laughed. "We go east. Turn left, go east."
Murdock wondered how long they could keep the truck. Word would be out quickly about the death of the general and the stolen truck. They might not even get around Chungsan. He used the Motorola. "Casualty report, Mahanani."
There was a moment of silence.
"Only one we have back here, Skipper, is a round through the left arm of our buddy Al Adams.
Sore as hell, but he can still walk and talk. I've got it bound up. Missed the bone, went right on through. He's fit for duty."
"Thanks, Mahanani."
The paved road they were on heading south came to a crossroad. They slowed. Charley shook his head.
"Too narrow, need better road heading east."
They continued driving. They met a small Army rig, but it continued on north without slowing. Murdock eased his grip on his submachine gun.
A mile closer to the town, they came to another crossroad. This one was blacktopped and had a white line in the middle.
'Turn left," Charley said. The road headed due east, then swung a little south, but if it kept going east they would miss the town. On this road, they met no traffic at all. Murdock checked his watch. It was 0328.
"Three hours to daylight," Murdock said. "We need a good place to hide, with or without the truck." Douglas looked at him quickly. "No sweat, Douglas. We keep the wheels as long as possible. It's a hell of a lot better than walking thirty miles."
Two miles up the deserted road, they came to four headlights facing them. The lights didn't move.
"Nobody is passing anybody," Douglas said. "It's a fucking roadblock."
"How fast we driving?" Murdock asked.
"About forty-five," Douglas said. "Fast as I can get it moving."
"When we get within a hundred yards, start slowing down, then when we can see what's there, we'll decide." He touched his mike. "Roadblock ahead, look alive. Probably run it, so give us some firepower out the back."
They waited. Nothing was visible through the glare of the four headlights. They came closer. Douglas slowed the rig.
A few more feet and their headlights cut through the glare and they saw the vehicles. One was a light sedan, the other a small jeep-type rig.
"Kick it," Murdock shouted. "Ram through the center. Hit the accelerator." After he said it, Murdock pushed his MP-5 out the front-door window and sprayed the roadblock with 9mm slugs. Two of the headlights blew apart. He could see uniformed men diving for cover.
The big truck gained speed slowly, then surged ahead the last fifty feet and rammed into the sedan, shoving it aside like a toy car. They took a few rounds the last few seconds before impact. Then they were past and the SEALs in the open rear of the truck lanced dozens of rounds into the surprised and dazed defenders.
"Radio?" Douglas asked.
"Yeah, they might have one. If so, we can expect more trouble. Which means we can't vanish in a grove of trees and wait out the daylight. We keep blasting east as fast and as far as we can." He hit the mike. "Any casualties back there?"
"No hits," Ed DeWitt reported. "A few rounds went through the canvas but missed us. OK up there?"
"We have two stars in our windshield. Outside of that, we're rolling. Up ahead they may know we're coming. If we hit another roadblock, put the two fifties through the canvas in front and be ready to fire over the hood. Maybe we can take them out from long distance. Cut some holes in that canvas."
"That's a roger, Skipper," Bill Bradford said.
They rolled along in silence for a while. Murdock could see the dimly lit speedometer, but he didn't understand the reading.
"How fast?"
Charley looked at the dial. "Almost fifty miles an hour. Good."
They could see the town of Chungsan fading away to the right. Another road joined the one they were on, and Murdock hoped this was the main traffic route to Taedong, about twenty-eight to thirty miles east.
Ten minutes later, Murdock started to relax. The city lights were far behind them. They were in the country. Dirt roads came into the main highway every two or three miles. They met no traffic, and saw few buildings near the road or in the fields.
A millisecond later, the roadway directly ahead of them exploded in a brilliant yellow and orange blossom of death. Murdock ducked automatically. Douglas jolted himself out of a near-hypnotic state and tugged at the wheel to keep the truck straight down the road.
"RPG?" Murdock's radio earpiece asked.
"Sounded like it," Murdock said. "Where the hell did it come from? There aren't even any buildings out here."
As if in answer, Murdock heard a machine gun stuttering.
Douglas killed the headlights and eased the big truck to a stop. Six rounds slapped the hood, and two worked up to the windshield. They punched into the weakened glass and blew the shards back on the three men in the front seat.
"Bail out," Murdock shouted into his lip mike. He opened the door and dropped to the ground, did a front shoulder roll toward the ditch, and lay there as the rest of his men jumped, fell, and rolled out of the NK truck.
The machine gun kept chattering at them. He could hear the rounds tearing into the engine compartment. Murdock heard the left front tire blow out as a round caught it in the sidewall. All became quiet for a moment. Murdock lifted up and stared ahead of the truck, but he could see nothing down that way.