He saw a small flame lick its way out of the engine compartment.
"Get away from the truck, she's about to blow," Murdock said. He jumped out of the ditch and ran into a field, stumbled over a foot-high rice-paddy dike, and fell flat on this chest on the hard ground.
The machine gun chattered again.
Murdock hit his mike. "Lam, Jaybird, you two okay?"
"Roger that. Skip. Lam is with me."
"Move out and see about that MG out front. He's got us by the balls."
"We're gone, Skip."
"Anybody get hit? Sound off if you're hit or dead."
He heard a chuckle.
"I'll accept that. When you have a chance, let's get on the right-hand side of the truck. Watch out for that MG. No idea what they have up there, but somebody had an RPG. Let's assemble over here and then we'll move up slowly. The damn truck is no good to us anymore."
He sensed more than heard the men congregating. Somebody touched his boot. He looked back, and Ed DeWitt came up beside where he lay in the paddy.
"Lucky on that RPG. Hard to estimate distance at night. It could have wiped out half of us."
"Damn lucky. Just hope we haven't used up all of our good luck for this trip. No wounds or injuries?" He asked the last question on his mike.
"Hey, I lost a hard-on when that fucking RPG went off," Fernandez said. "Does that count?"
"Your old lady will weep and moan, but no Purple Heart, buddy," Mahanani said. "Let's move," Murdock said. "Quiet time. Jaybird, can you talk?"
There was no response. They stood and worked over the hard rice paddies without a sound, slowly, expecting the worst.
Two minutes later two fraggers ripped the dark sky apart with bright orange flashes; then a subgun and a Colt spewed rounds into the night. Some heavy sounds of an AK-47 ruptured the sudden silence, followed by more of the 9mm rounds from the submachine gun.
A long silence followed. Two minutes at least, Murdock figured. Earpieces brought an end to the suspense.
"All clear forward. Skip," Lam said. "Only three of them. A motorbike and two bicycles, a machine gun, and one more RPG."
A moment after the transmission, the six-by-six truck's gasoline tank exploded, lighting up the sky for a half mile around. The sound trumpeted away to the hills, and the yellow flash moderated to a dozen licking green and orange flames as they ate through the wood and canvas on the Army truck.
"On the road, double time," Murdock barked.
They found Lam and Jaybird a minute later, and settled back into formation. Next they hiked down the road to the east.
"We hit the ditches if any headlights show in front or back," Murdock radioed. "Now we make some time to the east."
They had hoofed it down the roadway for twenty minutes when Murdock heard something in his earpiece.
"Oh, damn. Damnit to hell. I won't allow it. Shit. Better hold it up. Guess I got hit after all."
By then Murdock recognized Ed DeWitt's voice.
"Mahanani, check out the JG," Murdock said in his mike. They stopped, and the substitute medic found DeWitt on the shoulder of the highway with his left leg stretched out.
The medic used his pencil flash, holding it in his mouth as he peeled back the black civilian pants leg. Just above the jungle boot DeWitt's leg was lathered dark red with blood.
21
Jack Mahanani wiped the blood away and checked the wound. A bullet had gone in the front of DeWitt's leg, probably clipped the leg bone, and slanted upward. There was no exit wound. That meant the bullet was still there up in the calf muscles somewhere.
"So, JG, you picked up one. Not too bad, lots more blood than there should have been. Probably hurts like hell, though. I'll get it fixed up and we'll see how you walk."
The medic put on antiseptic and bandaged the wound tightly, gave him a morphine shot in the arm, then pulled down the pants leg.
"I'm getting to be a fucking magnet for every stray chunk of lead out there. Why the hell me?"
"Hey, JG, lots of that lead missed you. Come on now, let's see how you walk."
With the medic's help. DeWitt got to his feet. He bleated in pain when he took the first step. He set his jaw and took another step and made no sound, but his face worked. Then he let go of the medic and walked back to the road.
"Let's get the hell out of here," he said. Bravo Squad cheered.
The platoon moved up the road again. Mahanani came up to Murdock and shook his head.
"Skipper, we've got to find some transport. The JG won't be good for more than a hundred yards walking. That slug is in his leg somewhere tearing up things every time he takes a step."
"Stay with him. We'll find transport."
Murdock called up Ching and Lam, and sent them along both sides of the road looking for a cart, a truck, a wagon, anything they could use to haul the JG in.
They were now in country that had more farms and more buildings. The men scurried along each side of the road searching and checking in small buildings, hoping to find an old truck they could steal.
Two hundred yards after they started, Ed DeWitt gave a little cry of fury and slumped to the ground. The men helped him limp to the side of the road.
Jaybird stood beside Murdock. "How much farther is it into that town?" he asked.
"From here, maybe fifteen, eighteen miles. Right now too damn far."
They waited. Five minutes later, Ching came running down the roadway pushing a well-used motorcycle.
"Here it is. but I can't get it to run," Ching said.
Joe Douglas was on it in a second. He checked the spark, then the fuel to the cylinder, and laughed. He took off the small fuel-line filter, blew it out, and without the need for tools, put it back in place. He pumped the starter lever twice, then turned on a switch, and the cycle fired up on the first try.
Murdock nodded. "Douglas, can you ride that thing?"
"In my sleep, Skipper."
"Good. DeWitt will be on the seat behind you. Go up the road two miles and get in some concealment. Wait for us. We'll be double-timing up the road. Best bet we have right now."
The SEALs and the two South Koreans began to jog up the road. A moment later the motorcycle growled past them on low power to hold down the noise. They made two trips of two miles each; then Murdock checked his watch. It was nearing 0430.
"An hour and a half to sunup," he told Jay bird. "We need a place to settle down for the day and hide. Keep your eyes open."
After the third two-mile hike, they watched the east begin to lighten. Ahead a dirt road led off to the left toward a small building and a half acre of trees and brush. It could be a woodlot.
"Let's check it out," Murdock said, and swung the line of march off the roadway. Murdock stopped the troops well back from the shack, and sent Charley up to investigate.
Charley found an old Korean man fully dressed and rocking gently in a rocking chair in front of the small house. The man gave the traditional greeting. Charley said he was lost and wondered how far it was to Taedong.
The old man shook his head. He said in Korean that he didn't know. He never went to the big city anymore. Twice a week his grandson came and helped him cook his rice and kimchee. Mostly he sat in the chair, rocked, and watched the birds.
Charley asked the old man if he could sleep in the woods until midday, and the old man simply nodded. Charley walked back to where the SEALs had waited, and told them about the old man. Murdock quietly ordered his men to dig out their hide holes and get camouflage ready in case they needed it. He sat looking to the east. Then he called up Ron Holt with the SATCOM. He had the radioman turn it on, find the right settings, and aim the antenna in the right direction.