Murdock mentally slapped himself. First things first The general. First the general.
Time crept past, and at last the east streaked with light, then dawn, and finally the sunrise. He used the Motorola. "Let's look sharp, SEALs. He should be coming soon, if he does today. He wouldn't dare double-cross us and sleep in."
Murdock checked everyone he could see. All were in place. The snipers had their orders. The general first, then his military guard if he brought one. When the guards were down, the SEALs would move back to the dock.
Some distance away they heard motors, heavy ones on trucks and lighter ones, perhaps cars.
"Jaybird?" Murdock asked on the radio. The platoon chief had been spotted halfway to the first tee, in a clump of brush. He came on the personal radio, his voice a whisper.
"Yes, they are here. One truck, ten men all with rifles. Two cars, strange make. The general, two other officers. And the drivers. The three officers have their golf bags on pushcarts."
"Good. Jaybird, can you get back up here without being seen?"
"Affirmative."
"Move it."
Five minutes later Jaybird slid into the thicket beside Murdock.
"From the kowtowing, my guess is that the largest of the three golfers is the general. We better put all of them down just to be sure."
"Will the soldiers come with the golfers?"
"Don't know."
They waited. From their slightly raised vantage point they could see about fifty yards of rough fairway on the other side of the second-hole green.
Another five minutes and they saw the three golfers walking up the second fairway. They all lined up shots and swung. The largest man had a good swing, the other two bad swings. Always play with someone you can beat if you're a general, Murdock decided.
The men followed the first shots. They all had three and four putts on the green, then the tee shots for the third hole.
"We go when I give the order," Murdock said in his mike. "We'll wait until all three are on the third green. Confirm. Alpha Squad?"
He received agreement from the men. "Bravo Squad?" Again the men came on in rotation to say that they understood.
Another wait. The general reached the third green in three shots. He lay about thirty feet from the pin. The green looked like an unkempt suburban lawn, closely clipped but still a lawn.
The other two chipped on. One rolled to within two feet of the pin, and he screeched in joy. The general put his hands on his hips and must have been scowling.
Two more men came behind them. One had a basket, another what looked like folding chairs. Both were soldiers, but neither had a weapon.
Murdock used the radio. "Bradford, take the general. Fernandez, do the golfer next to him. Share the third one and the two picnic guys. Lam and Jaybird. When they're down, you two get down there and make sure. Soon now. They're all on the green."
He waited while the general lined up his shot. When he got ready to putt, Murdock gave the word. "Ready… fire."
The six weapons went off almost at the same time. The general had stood up from his crouch to check the line again. The big .50-caliber round caught him in the right side of the chest, blowing out half of his lung and three major arteries. He jolted backward and didn't move.
The other two golfers took rounds in their chests and heart and went down. The two men with the picnic lunch goods didn't have time to run. They got nailed at the same time. Nobody moved after the first volley. Lam and Jaybird took off at a sprint to cover the 150 yards to the green. Their weapons went off six times with rounds to the head; then they rushed back to the cover and concealment of the woods.
They waited a minute longer. Nobody appeared from the direction of the first tee.
"Take the brass and let's get out of here," Murdock said. They pulled back through woods and brush and trees off the golf course and over a small hill.
Jaybird hit his radio. "Commander. I just saw a soldier running back from the second green toward the first. I think we've been spotted."
"Move it," Murdock said. "Ching, take the rear guard. Let's get some distance here, people."
They had started down a slight hill when Lam came on the Motorola. "Motors, I can hear motors. Are the soldiers in the truck and moving toward us?"
"Or they'll try to get ahead of us," Murdock said. "I don't remember any roads up in here. Let's keep moving."
They were strung out in five-yard intervals in a single line when the North Koreans fired on them. The men evidently had driven ahead and set up a blocking position. They were two hundred yards away down a slight incline. The land was open with only a little brush.
The SEALs went to ground, foun d what cover they could behind old downed trees and some rocks.
"Hold your fire until they advance," Murdock said. "Jaybird, you saw ten of them at the first tee?"
"Roger, Skipper, but another truck could have come. I see more than ten down there."
"Jaybird, you're leading Bravo Squad. Stay in position. Be sure every man covers the man on his right. We need to get out of this and on our horse. Holt, warm up that box and get in touch with the destroyer on TAC Two. Tell them assignment number three is completed. On our way out but small delay. Tell them we're at Nampo and to get the damn RIBs on their way."
"Aye, Commander. Doing it."
"Confirm when they confirm."
Murdock had been watching the NK soldiers below moving slowly up the hill. They didn't look like seasoned troops. Probably some unit assigned to the general that hadn't fired a shot in months.
Murdock went back on the horn. "Bradford, see if you can pick out an officer down there in your scope. If you can, blow him away. Fire and then move, right?"
"That's a roger, Skip."
Murdock saw three men below lift up and charge up the hill ten yards to some boulders. The NK soldiers below opened fire again, and the SEALs hugged their cover. Murdock looked up and saw fifteen men come out of some brush on the left flank only fifty yards away.
"Left, fire to the left," Murdock bellowed into the lip mike. The SEALs cut loose, and five of the advancing troops slammed into the ground, the other ten dashing back over the small rise of land.
The big fifty exploded as Bradford fired. They heard a long let-out breath; then Bradford came on the radio.
"Yeah, scratch one officer. He won't send no more men into battle, leastwise on this planet."
The men below edged closer. Some were now within a hundred yards.
"Let them come,' Murdock said on the air. "We can wait." He watched the left flank, but no more men appeared there.
"We've got five of them on the right flank," Jaybird called. "Douglas, Fernandez, cover that sector. Rest of Bravo front."
When four more men below stood and charged upward, Murdock gave the order to fire. The SEALs cut down three of the four. They lay sprawled on the ground in the open, either dead or badly wounded.
"They are coming on the right," Fernandez screeched. He fired his sniper rife as fast as he could pull the bolt and slam it home. Jaybird looked at Douglas. He wasn't firing.
"Douglas, get with it, don't hang Fernandez out to dry," Jaybird screeched in the Motorola. Still, they heard only one weapon firing. Jaybird swore, and turned so he could support Fernandez. He was almost too late. Three of the NK troopers had broken out of the taller timber and were almost on Fernandez when Jaybird cut down the last two. Fernandez got one of them.
"Clear here," Jaybird said. "Fernandez, you okay?"
There was no answer. "Fernandez, come back." When there was still no answer, Jaybird crawled forward and to the right, keeping behind as much cover as he could find. The rest of the platoon kept up the fire to the front.
"Don't let them get away," Murdock said. "Some are pulling back. You sniper rifles, nail them."