Seal Team Seven: Hostile Fire Part 14

17.

Murdock looked at his men, who had flattened against the walls of the wadi. All had pulled floppy hats down over their faces and their brown and tan desert cammies helped them blend in with the sand and dirt. The four of them in gray and brown shades of Iraqi clothing melted into the background as well.

He moved his head an inch so he could see where the low-flying plane would come from. It was a small, high-wing craft that could seat no more than four and must be used for scouting and recon around the facility. He had seen no airstrip, but here it would take a bulldozer only an hour to level out a dirt landing field.

He could hear the sound of the plane now. It might be over one more wadi, maybe fifty yards away; he couldn't be sure. Then he saw it, amazingly close, no more than a hundred yards to the left and a hundred feet in the air. It dipped its right wing and made a gentle turn away from them, coming close to the ground, then continued the turn and climbed as it headed back the way it had come. Murdock held the team in place for another two minutes, then called out.

"Relax, I think he missed us. If he spotted us, we should be hearing from a mounted patrol within half an hour. Let's talk."

The men and women gathered around. Kat and Gypsy sat close together whispering and grinning, laughing now and then. It seemed to Murdock that they had bonded like longlost sisters.

"Bradford, crank it up and let's see what our chubby buddy from the Company has to say." When the SATCOM was aligned with the closest satellite, Murdock took the handset.

"Big Daddy Kuwait, this is Underground One."

The response was immediate.

"Yes, skinny little buddy, I'm here. You cause me more trouble. I had to get people out of bed. Well, turns out we do have some of the GBU-28s on station here in Kuwait. That's air force talk. They are delivered by the B-52 Stealth bombers. I can't say where they are or where they might come from, but some are now on station in Kuwait awaiting your orders. How's that for hot copy?"

"Not bad, Company Man. At first dark we'll move into position about five miles from our OP. We should have the GPS coordinates for you on the target around twenty hundred. Then we'll light up the target with the laser designator and hope we can coordinate the attack."

"Sounds like a winner. Oh, while we're on the air, some details. The GBU-28 is a weapon developed and tested and put into operation in twenty-eight days back in February of 1991. This is unheard of speed in munitions creation. The critter is four thousand six hundred and thirty-seven pounds and has six hundred and thirty pounds of tritonal high explosives. It has a four-thousand-four-hundred-pound penetrating warhead. The bombs are made from modified army artillery tubes because of their great strength. Only two of these weapons were used in Desert Storm, but many have been dropped in Afghanistan.

"The bomb is fitted with a GBU-27 LGV kit and is only fourteen and a half inches in diameter and nineteen feet long. Tests show that it can penetrate twenty feet of concrete and up to a hundred feet of soil without heavy rock formations. You were right; they don't cost much, only a hundred and forty-five thousand dollars each. Any questions?"

"We light up the target with our laser designator and keep it on until the bombs fall, right?" Murdock asked.

"Right, we trained your man on that."

"Will there be more than one bomb run by the B-52?"

"We don't know. I'm not sure how many of the bombs the B-52 can carry at one time. We'll get back to you on that. If we don't, or our commo goes out, just keep the target lit up until the planes go away."

"That's a roger, Company Man."

"Be careful out there. After the hit, those Iraqis left alive are going to swarm like enraged hornets."

"That's for sure. We're out."

"Why doesn't all of that HE go off when it first hits the concrete?" Jaybird asked.

"I've seen pictures of them," Gardner said. "It has a charge right on the nose that helps dig through the concrete, then blasts on through and explodes when it's underground."

"How much destruction will they do under that concrete roof?" Kat asked.

"We don't know," Gardner said. "But any explosion inside a concrete box like that will be magnified by ten times in the concussion, the blast, the shrapnel effect of blowing things apart. Will it take out a completed nuclear bomb? I have no idea. Let's hope we get to go inside and see for ourselves."

"Worst scenario," Murdock said. "We hit it with two of the bunker busters. That building could be a hundred yards long, size of a football field. Would two bombs totally destroy it? Probably not. So what do the Iraqis do?"

"If the nuclear bombs are intact, they get them to the surface somehow and truck them out of there to another site," Fernandez said. "They know this plant is compromised, so they want to cut their losses and get the bombs to a new safe place."

"Good, good," Murdock said. "So we need to plan for that. We need a team with twenties somewhere north of the factory and within half a mile of the dirt road to take out the trucks if they try to bug out with the nukes."

"Why not hit them as soon as they come out of the building?" Senior Chief Neal asked.

"Easy," Kat said. "We need to know how many of them survived. If they truck out only two, that probably would be it. If we hit the first one at the elevator or the crane that brings it up, they might not try to move any others."

"Hey, Kat. Your momma didn't waste her money on your schooling," Jaybird cracked.

"The lady is right," Murdock said. "What else do we need to talk over?"

"How to stay alive until dark," Gardner said.

"You're the experienced one there, Lieutenant," Murdock said. "The con is yours."

For the next four hours the platoon stayed in the wadi. Gardner had lookouts a quarter of a mile ahead and spread a quarter mile to each side to watch for roving patrols. None came near until after noon. The scouts scurried back and the platoon did a quick retreat down the wadi and then over a quarter of a mile to avoid the two ten-man patrols that were converging on their old position. Gardner had the rest area policed, searched, and combed and brushed before they left, to give no indication anyone had ever been in that gully.

By dusk they had moved twice more and Murdock readied the men for the hike to the factory.

"We all get as close as we can," he said. "Gardner tells me he believes the farthest out the patrols are on their night watch is about a mile from the elevator. We're still on the right end of the factory to find the lift. At first dark we'll move forward and get into position. Then I want Gardner to take three men and two Bull Pups and hike a mile north along the dirt road. Stay a quarter mile off it and sit down and wait. If you see any trucks coming north on the road after the bombers. .h.i.t, blast them. We have our Motorolas. We'll tell you if we think they are hauling out any of the nukes. Any questions?"

"Yeah," Howard said. "Can you check with the SATCOM to be sure that our choppers are in position just across the border in Saudi Arabia waiting for our call for a ride?"

"Good idea. Bradford, set up and contact them at the base. Do we have their call sign?"

"No, but Don Stroh should. I'll get it."

Ten minutes later the sun dropped below the western horizon and they headed toward the bomb-making facility. Lam took the point and led them down gullies and over small ridges and into a slight rise that he figured was a mile from the edge of the factory. He was surprised when the lights came on and they watched as the elevator shaft lifted straight up out of seemingly virgin desert.

"About a mile and a quarter," Lam said. "Those lights sure seem bright out here in nowhere."

It was totally dark by then and Murdock used the global positioning system box to pinpoint where they were. He wrote down the figures on a pad and then watched as Prescott picked out his spot of dirt, unstrapped the high-powered laser designator from his back, and set it up. He sighted in on the easy-to-see elevator building and told Murdock he was ready. Any people in the target area being electronically illuminated by the laser would not know it was happening.

"Light them up," Murdock said. Prescott turned on two switches, adjusted his aim a moment, and nodded.

"We're set. We're on target waiting for the big bird."

Bradford handed Murdock the ready-to-go SATCOM mike.

"Company Man, your ears on?"

"Ready and waiting, Underground."

"Your target is lighted up with the laser designator. Do we leave it on now or turn it off and wait for the planes to take off?"

"We have two birds, each with a pair of eggs. They just got a five-minute alert and will be taking off at that time. Flight time to your position at six hundred and fifty-two miles per hour is barely a warm-up. It's four hundred and ninety miles, the pilot tells me, and estimated flight time is forty-five minutes. They'll be on an Iraq overflight all the way but expect no trouble."

"If they take off in three minutes, their ETA will be..." Murdock looked at his watch in the beam of his pencil flash. "That would make it twenty-fifty-three. Right. We'll turn off the designator now and save on the battery. We don't want it to go dead before they get here."

"Right, Underground. I'll let you know if they are late in their takeoff. Otherwise, good hunting."

The platoon had gathered around the radio and heard the low-volume speaker. Now they drifted away.

"Gardner, take your men with two Bull Pups. About a mile. When you get to your spot, check in on the Motorola. A shallow wadi would give you great cover."

"What I was thinking. We're out of here. If no trucks come, bring us back so we can get in on the a.s.sault, or whatever."

"Will do."

Prescott turned off the laser. The only difference they could hear was the cessation of a slight hum. Then they waited.

Kat sat down beside Murdock. "Is this going to work? I mean, can the bombs kill those four nukes in there?"

"We don't know. The first one or two blasts might bring the whole roof down on the bombs and smash them into junk. Four or five or six feet of concrete is a load. I remember that double-deck freeway in Oakland when the top one collapsed on the lower one during the earthquake. Only one guy survived under that ma.s.s of concrete, and that was a miracle."

"Won't this be reinforced with rebar?"

"Probably. But six hundred pounds of high explosives going off in a contained area creates a tremendous effect."

"So we'll hope." She frowned, silent for a moment. "How will we know if all four of the bombs are in there? I mean, if the place is a total wreck, we still have to go in and count heads, or bombs in this case."

"True. We just have to wait and see, but not wait much longer. How are you and Gypsy getting along?"

"She's so wonderful. I love her like a sister. She's an artist, did you know that? Made a living painting. Now that takes talent, and in Iraq it must have been horrendous. She's going out with us and I'm going to set her up in Arlington with a nice little studio. She'll be making a living within six months."

"Planning ahead is good. Now how much more time?" He used the s.h.i.+elded pencil light and checked his wrist.w.a.tch. He had banned glowing dials or numerals on watches in his platoon after one of his men was shot in a close encounter when the other guy aimed at the SEAL's glowing watch face. "Looks like we have another twenty minutes. Prescott. Turn on the laser in ten minutes."

"Aye, aye, Commander."

Gypsy moved up and sat beside Kat. Gypsy now wore a pair of cammie pants one of the men had given her.

"Is this going to work?" she asked.

"We hope so," Kat said.

"How will we know?"

"That's a problem," Murdock said. "No matter how much or how little damage the bombers do, we still have to go in there and verify the bombs are ruined, or destroy them ourselves. That is, Kat has to destroy them."

"If you go in and Kat goes in, then I go, too," Gypsy said. She held up her hand as Murdock started to protest. "This is my country, Commander. Building those bombs is partly my fault. I sat by and let it happen along with about twenty million other Iraqis. I'm going. Remember I can use this AK-47."

Murdock watched her face in the thin moonlight for a moment then nodded. He looked into the darkness. "Bradford, you've kept the box on receive?"

"Yes, sir. No transmissions for us since that last one from Stroh."

The Motorolas came to life.

"Murdock. This is Gardner. We're in position about a mile north of the lights and a quarter off the dirt road. Found a nice little three-foot-deep wadi we can use as a firing platform if we need to. I'm not betting one way or the other. We can take out four or five six-bys if they come this way. Let us know what's happening."

"Right, Gardner," Murdock said. "We're about fifteen out from the drop. Stay loose and watch for any night activity by those d.a.m.n ten-man patrols."

"Will do. Out."

They waited. To one side Kat and Gypsy talked in low tones. Murdock looked at his watch three more times. After the last one he used the Motorola. "Okay, men and women. My watch shows the flyboys should be here within two or three minutes. Everybody lock and load and keep your eyes open. The minute that first bomb hits, these wadis may come alive with two hundred troops. We don't know what they will do. Steady as it goes."

"How high will they be on the bomb runs?" Jaybird asked on the radio.

"No data on that," Murdock said.

"Doesn't matter much," Gardner said on the net. "Once the bomb's guidance system locks on the illuminated target, it zaps down a straight line at the target. This isn't a missile, so it doesn't have lightning speed, just gravity, but directed gravity."

"We might not hear the birds, then?" Canzoneri asked.

No one answered.

A minute later Lam used the radio. "Cap, we've got company. Back side of the wadi, maybe fifty yards out. One of those d.a.m.n ten-man patrols is coming our way. I don't see how they can miss us."

18.

"How many silenced weapons do we have?" Murdock asked. "Sound off, now on the net."

A moment later he knew: two MP-5s and one sniper rifle. "You three, move up toward Lam where you can spot the patrol. Pick off the men on the end of the line. Do it quickly. Be sure of each shot. Go."

Luke Howard crawled up the side of the three-foot-deep wadi he had found near Lam, and looked into the night. A moment later Kat slid in near him with her MP-5. Jaybird came down on the far side of Kat with the other MP-5. They all stared into the blackness.

"How could Lam spot them?" Kat whispered.

"He has cat eyes and elephant ears," Jaybird whispered back. Then he pointed. "There, to our left just a bit. Ten of them; no, nine. Let's get to work."

Jaybird fired the MP-5 when he figured the line was thirty yards from them. The MP-5 is not a long-range weapon, but he saw one man double up and go down. Kat had waited for Jaybird, then she fired as well on single shot. She knew she had fired true. She saw a man stumble and fall. Had she killed him? She shook her head and sighted in on the next man. Howard had been firing since he first saw the line. He went for the far end and put down three of them before one of the men shouted and the rest of the patrol hit the ground. Kat saw one lift up, and she aimed and fired. The man pivoted backwards and she couldn't see him anymore. For a moment the thrill of the hunt had carried her along. Now she closed her eyes and felt sweat on her forehead. She had just killed another man, maybe two. This was not why she had come on this mission. But it was part of her job if the mission was to be accomplished. She brushed moisture from her forehead head and concentrated on where the remaining men must be. She could see no movement, no bodies. She wished that she had the thermal imager. She had just killed again. How long would it take her to get over it this time? She closed her eyes and a heavy weight beat down on her shoulders.

A man at the far end of the line of Iraqi soldiers lifted up to run back the way they had come. Howard cut him down with two shots. Then all was silent.