Forged in Honor (1995) (29 page)

Once in position we're going to scan the valley below us for patrols or guards, then quickly set up the cameras and radio.

Vee, once your gear is set up, come back here and pull rear security. We won't be here long. Once it gets light we'll take the pictures and get the hell out. Okay, let's do it nice and slow."

Josh crept forward and got halfway around the huge boulder. He looked across the river but his vision within the goggles suddenly became blurred by bright green balls of fuzzy light. He froze, lowered himself to the ground, and slowly took off the goggles. What he could plainly see with his eyes caused his heart to skip a beat. He took a deep breath to try and stop his shaking and was about to move again when Crow grabbed his arm. "We got company!" he whispered. "I see some people just down the ridge to the right... a hundred meters back from the riverbank."

Josh couldn't see anything in the darkness in that direction and put his goggles back on. It took him several seconds to find them, but there was no mistake about it. There were four armed men lying prone behind small boulders close to the riverbank. He whispered to Crow, "They're facing away from us. Once we're in position, keep an eye on them. Come on, you're not going to believe this."

Crow took off his pack and hurriedly took out the camera and telephoto lens case. He set up the equipment and then joined Josh at the lip of the small cave. Despite a light fog he could clearly make out a long tin building beneath a huge camouflage net held up by long bamboo poles. The lights inside the building shone brightly through the large open windows and a set of open garage-type doors. Crow scanned the building one more time with his binoculars and counted at least thirty people working inside. He let out a rush of air.

"Christ, Hawk, is what I'm seeing for real?"

Josh lowered his binoculars. "It's too real--our worst nightmare."

Vee had been listening as he unpacked the video camera and now whispered, "What's wrong?"

Josh handed him his binoculars. "The refinery down there is a fully operational production facility, including a lab. It makes the finished product. Look at the markings on the fifty-gallon drums just inside the open double doors. It's alcohol. That's used only in the last stage of making number four heroin."

"Number four?" Vee repeated, not understanding.

Josh stared at the distant building and replied, "It's the highest grade, 85 to 99 percent pure."

Crow spoke in a whisper as he moved his binoculars back to the men he'd spotted earlier. "What in the hell are those four guys doing down there? They aren't guards; they look more like a reconnaissance team watching the place like we are. I've spotted four guards and a patrol of six men so far, but they're all on the other side of the river." He swiveled his glasses back toward the building and shook his head. "It's a helluva big operation to be workin' around the clock. Jesus, they look like ants at a picnic the way everybody is moving around inside."

Josh turned to Vee. "Get on the radio and tell 'em what we see. Tell 'em we'll get pictures as soon as it's light, then we'll pull back to a hide position. I'll pull security while you're sending ii"

Washington, D. C.

Cage told his two security guards to walk out first and check the street. They approached their boss's white Cadillac, checked the surrounding parked cars for occupants, and looked up and down the street for signs of danger. Seeing nothing unusual, they nodded toward the dilapidated brownstone.

B-Ball Thomas sauntered out first, followed by Cage, who kept his eyes in constant motion and his hand close to a nickel-plated .357 stuck in his belt.

Across the street, watching from a window, a seventeen year-old boy brought a portable phone to his mouth and spoke into the receiver in Spanish. "The niggers are moving to the car."

The person on the end of the line hung up.

Cage and B-Ball got in the backseat of the Cadillac and the two security men got in the front. The car pulled away from the curb and turned off K Street onto New Jersey Avenue. They traveled only two blocks before entering the 395 underpass toward Garfield Park. They were halfway through the underpass when the driver suddenly slammed on the brakes to avoid colliding with a truck that had veered into their lane from the other direction. Two more cars behind the truck pulled out and skidded to a halt, blocking the road.

Cage reached for the .357 just as bullets raked the right side of the car. As the last act of his life, the driver twisted the wheel left and stomped on the accelerator. A split second later the front windshield shattered and he and the other guard jerked spasmodically as nine-millimeter bullets ripped through their upper bodies.

Spattered with blood and covered in crystallized glass, Cage lay on the floor, screaming from pain and fear. B-Ball bounced on the blood-covered backseat and held his neck to try to stop the stream of dark blood shooting from his ruptured carotid artery. The Cadillac careened off the concrete underpass wall, struck one of the blocking cars in the rear, and finally stopped when it hit a light pole. Cage felt the vehicle come to a sudden jolting halt and was about to move when he heard someone running toward the vehicle. He lay perfectly still, hoping they would think he was dead. Something hard hit his shoulder and rolled to the floor in front of him. He looked at the grenade and tried to scream but nothing came out of his mouth. Frozen, he shut his eyes just as the small bomb exploded, ending his fear forever.

Fifteen blocks away, Wease Elkins lay in bed with a fifteen-year-old junkie who had needed a hit. She had performed to his satisfaction and he was reaching for his trousers when the door to the bedroom burst open. He saw their faces and managed only to say "Muthafuc-" before his body and that of the girl were riddled with bullets.

Jimmy the Spoon was on the street doing what he did best, talkin' shit with his dealers, boosting morale and profits.

Jimmy was a people person until he saw the fast car approaching. He grabbed one of the boys he'd been talking to and tried to use him as a shield. It didn't work. The boy took six rounds, but one hit Jimmy just above his right eye and killed him before he took a single step.

.

5:45 A. M., India Staging Base.

Buck McCoy froze in place as he listened to team two's report.

"Base, this is scout two. We are five hundred meters from the target, except there is no longer a target. What used to be a large building looks as if it was hit by a bomb and is still burning. There appears to be a village nearby. We hear gunshots and people screaming but cannot get any closer because of the open terrain between us and the burning building.

Over."

McCoy picked up the mike. "Scout two, this is base.

Roger, I have a good copy. Take pictures of what you can, then pull back to hide position. Out."

Putting down the mike, he turned to the chief of station.

"That's the third team to report the buildings were destroyed.

It has to be the army that made the strikes. It's the only logical answer."

The tight-lipped COS looked at the map with a distant stare. "I knew Alex Manning, the chief in Burma. I saw his file and satellite photos. He knew they were involved, dammit! The bastards must have found out about the operation somehow and decided to destroy the evidence."

McCoy shook his head. "Sir, there was no leak on our end.

There's got to be another answer." He rapped his fingers on the table for a moment, then made up his mind. "Sir, the teams have the information we came for. I'm calling to tell them to pull back to hide positions. Tonight they can move to their pickup zones for exfiltration. There's no sense in taking any more risks."

The chief of station nodded in silence.

Crow saw the light flickering and knew a message was coming in. He quit taking pictures and pushed the Receive button. Then he read the message that rolled across the small backlit screen in a whisper loud enough for Josh to hear.

"Mission is terminated. Repeat, mission is terminated.

Move to hide position until nightfall, then move to PZ for exfiltration. Acknowledge."

Crow exchanged glances with Josh and smiled. "Let's get the hell outta here."

Crow began to rise, but Josh put his hand up. "Listen. Do you hear what I hear?"

Crow had heard that particular sound too many times in his life not to recognize the distant sound of incoming helicopters. He crawled over to Josh. "You see them yet?"

Both men scanned the horizon and valley until Crow put down his binoculars and pointed. "There, at ten o'clock, coming in low, five Chinese-made Mi-4 Hounds."

Josh lowered his glasses after spotting the choppers, which were designed to carry infantry. He glanced down toward the river. "Look, one is about to shoot a star cluster." Just as he spoke, one of the soldiers in camouflage fatigues hiding by the river stood and hit the bottom of a handheld tubular device. A small rocket shot skyward and exploded in a bright shower of miniature reddish-orange fireballs.

Josh began to shake with anger and frustration as he realized what was going to happen. "Oh God, no!"

Two of the helicopters swooped in just above the tin building's camouflage net and the other three hovered over the village, all shooting their door-mounted machine guns. Above the racket of beating blades and the staccato gunfire, another sound joined the din. Josh tamed to stone, unable to move as he heard the pathetic sound that tore through his heart like searing shrapnel. It was the sound of Henry's church bell, but it wasn't a call to services. The bell from the old mission was being rung repeatedly as a warning of danger. Josh could see terrified people running out of the tin building trying to find cover and could hear bloodcurdling screams from the direction of the village. The four sharpshooters on the bank had more targets than they could' shoot at. The panic-stricken Shan workers, seeing their friends shot down as they headed for the river, ran in the other direction toward the village.

Josh thought they might escape, but a sudden burst of machine-gun fire from the ridge to their front cut the running people down like stalks of wheat.

Crow lowered his head after seeing some of the survivors with their hands in the air being riddled. "Jesus, Hawk, it's not an attack, it's a massacre."

Josh fought back the bile in his throat and growled. "Get it on the video camera."

The killing lasted five minutes more. The helicopters had landed and troops swarmed out, some of them hauling boxes full of small white plastic bags. Other troops led or carried screaming, fighting men and women to the riverbank and executed them. Five prisoners dressed in Western clothing were taken at gunpoint from the building and placed on board a helicopter, but when the chopper rose to several hundred feet in altitude all five were pushed out of the olive-drab bird and fell into the forest behind the now burning building. Smoke billowed up not only from the lab but also from the village.

Tears streaming down his face, Josh swung the camera, looking through its high-powered lens to search the faces before taking pictures of the dead. He'd recognized a few and kept moving the camera to look for others.

Crow put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Hawk? ...

Hawk, there's nothing you could have done. Come on, Hawk, you've been out of film for the last two minutes. We've got to get out of here."

Josh could hear screaming from the distant village and twitched when a single gunshot echoed down the valley. One less Shan. Then there was another shot, and another. Each shot reverberated in his head and tore through him. Finally there was silence, but he could hear the faintest of echoes of his and Stephen's laughter when they would play on the ridge. Now other echoes joined those in the serene valley the screams of his adopted people. Now they too were just echoes.

Crow took the camera from Josh's hands and gently put his arm around his shoulder. "Hawk, we gotta go."

Josh looked with pleading eyes at the sergeant major.

"Why, Hondo? Why did they murder them?"

Crow picked up Josh's pack and handed it to him. "I don't know. Come on, let's get out of here before we're spotted."

Minutes later, a stone-faced Josh led the other two men back up the ridge. His cold eyes were constantly moving as he concentrated on the sounds and smells of the forest. After an hour at a steady pace he slowed and waved the others toward a stand of dense bamboo to rest and hole up until it got dark. Crow moved up close to him and whispered, "How you feelin'?"

"I'm okay. It got to me, that's all."

"Glad you're back; you had me worried. I'm gonna take a dump in that other grove just ahead." Crow motioned to another large stand of bamboo twenty feet up the trail.

"Me too," said Vee.

Josh nodded. "I'll pull security here. You two cover each other."

Taking off his pack, Josh watched his two men until they disappeared in the yellow bamboo. He thought he heard a hawk screeching somewhere above in the trees and was about to look up when gunfire erupted from the direction in which his men had gone. Spinning around, he pulled his silenced semiautomatic pistol from its holster and crept forward, following the sound of laughter.

Crow lay still on the ground as a dark-skinned, flat-nosed Wa cackled and nudged the prone figure with an M-16. "This one is bleeding like a pig. I lay claim to him, for I saw and shot him first."