Red Phoenix (45 page)

They swept by without answering. Others were following them.

Kevin jumped up out of the foxhole. He felt Rhee’s hand on his leg, pulling him down, but he shook it off. He moved to intercept the troops heading away from the oncoming BMPs.

One carrying a LAW slung over his back came right at him. Kevin stepped into his path and held out a hand to stop him. “Hold it right there, soldier. We need that weapon.”

The man shoved him aside without even looking and snarled, “Fuck off!”

Kevin felt something explode in his brain for just an instant. Something infinitely cold and infinitely hot. An anger greater than he had ever known before surged through him. He gave in to it and threw himself at the soldier’s back—knocking the GI flat into the snow.

Kevin got to his knees first and wrenched the fiberglass-tubed antitank rocket off over the man’s neck, tearing away skin and the soldier’s helmet. The lead BMP was pushing its way into the mangled woods just twenty meters to the right, roaring up and over fallen trees.

Ignoring the white-faced GI on the ground, Kevin scrambled to his feet and ran toward the North Korean infantry combat vehicle, swinging the LAW up and onto his shoulder as he ran. He could hear himself shouting something at the top of his lungs, but he couldn’t make out the words.

Snow spurted all around him, and wood splinters sprayed off a tree to the side. A second BMP had spotted him and was firing its coaxial machine gun. Kevin ignored it, really conscious only of his target and the white-hot rage he felt.

He got to within ten meters of the lead BMP and slid to a stop, feet plowing through the snow and churned-up mud. He braced and aimed, focusing along the length of the LAW toward the BMP’s massive, armored flank.

“Bastards!” Kevin screamed, and pulled the trigger. The 66mm antitank rocket roared out of its launch tube and slammed into the BMP It ripped through sixteen millimeters of steel armor and exploded inside. The BMP shuddered to a halt with smoke pouring out of its firing slits.

Kevin stood staring at it for a second and then felt himself knocked to the ground. Machine gun bullets cracked overhead, ripping branches off the evergreens around him and tearing away deeper into the woods. Kevin rolled
over and came face-to-face with a grinning Lieutenant Rhee. He opened his mouth but couldn’t think of anything to say.

Rhee shook his head and waved a hand at the woods around them. American soldiers were settling back into foxholes, their weapons out and ready. Kevin saw one man raise another LAW, point it downslope toward the second BMP and fire. It hit, but the BMP kept coming. A second soldier off to the flank saw it and fired a third antitank rocket. This one burst near the driver’s slit and sent fragments ricocheting around the interior of the North Korean vehicle. It rolled on for a few meters more and then juddered slowly to a stop.

The last BMP abruptly popped its smoke dispensers and reversed rapidly away from the hill, jinking from side to side to throw off the aim of any American missile teams zeroing in on it.

Kevin sat up slowly and then levered himself to his feet, looking at the wrecked vehicles and corpses scattered across the hillside and through the woods. He could hear faint cheering coming from the rice paddies occupied by his 2nd Platoon, but the men of his 1st Platoon sat silent, relieved just to be alive. He reached down and helped Rhee to his feet, gradually realizing that a smile was spreading across his face—an expression he hadn’t worn for what seemed like an eternity.

He looked down at his hands and saw that they were steady. No more trembling. They had won—at least this round. They’d stopped the North Koreans cold.

Kevin turned on his heel and started back through the tangle of shredded trees, looking for Montoya. His orders still stood. They’d bought some time. Now it was time to fall back to the next battle position and do it again.

NORTH OF THE HAENGJU BRIDGE, NEAR HANGJUSAN CASTLE

“Drop one hundred, right fifty.”

The spotting round sent chunks of asphalt flying as it gouged a crater in the highway. Kevin clicked the transmit button. “Got it! On target! Let ’em have it!”

More artillery rounds screamed in, blasting the road and the open ground around it. North Korean infantrymen scattered in all directions, seeking cover where there was none. Earth and fragments of torn bodies fountained high into the air.

Kevin stopped watching the barrage and wriggled back into his foxhole to consider his next move. Echo Company and the units covering its flanks had fought steadily all day, gradually giving ground in the face of repeated North Korean attacks. Each time the pattern had been the same. Bloody the NK columns from concealed positions. Force them to waste time deploying for a
more deliberate attack and then beat a quick retreat down the road to the next set of defensive positions.

It had worked. They’d bought time for the other units fleeing across the Haengju Bridge. But the price had been high. Sergeant Caldwell, his Weapons Platoon leader, was dead. Bryce, the 1st Platoon leader, had been medevacked two hours ago, bleeding from a dozen shrapnel wounds. All told, nearly thirty of his men were out of action—dead or seriously wounded.

Kevin rubbed a weary hand across his face, feeling the bristles of his beard mixed in with caked-on mud. How much longer could he ask his troops to go on taking losses like that? They were being ground up by this constant fighting. How much longer would they have to hold? This hill was the last barrier between the North Koreans and the Han.

He squinted west into the setting sun. Not more than an hour of daylight left. He turned to look down the slope behind him. There were still trucks crowding the bridge, but the traffic seemed somewhat lighter.

“Sir. It’s Major Donaldson.” Montoya nudged him gently.

Kevin took the handset and clicked the transmit button. “India One Two, this is Echo Five Six, over.”

Donaldson sounded tired, too. “Stand by for withdrawal. Say again, stand by for withdrawal.”

Kevin shook his head, not quite understanding. He felt as if his head had been wrapped in cotton. What was that? Withdraw? How? When? He clicked the transmit button again. “One Two, this is Five Six. Request instructions.”

“Okay, Kev.” Donaldson spaced his words out carefully. “Foxtrot and Bravo are pulling out now. They’re clear of NK contact. What’s your situation? Over.”

Kevin sat up higher in the foxhole. The fire mission he’d called down had ended. There were bodies thrown all around the road, some motionless, others writhing in agony. The scattered survivors of the NK infantry company he’d spotted were in full retreat—scampering back up the road as fast as their legs would carry them.

He lifted his binoculars, looking farther up the highway toward the low, rolling hills he and his men had left behind an hour before. He could see shapes moving among the trees. Tanks and other armored vehicles forming up for another attack.

He lowered the binoculars, thinking hard. “Two, this is Six. Estimate three zero minutes before next NK push, over.”

“Understood, Kev. Start your people across in five minutes, but leave a force to cover the bridge approaches until everybody’s clear. Got it?”

Kevin acknowledged and signed off. He handed the radio back to Montoya and looked around for Rhee. The shorter man’s steadiness and
absolute reliability made him the perfect choice for the task Kevin had in mind. The South Korean lieutenant had shown himself to be a damned fine combat leader—one who could be counted on to inspire his men and use them well in the heat of battle. Just as important, he’d proved that he had brains as well as guts. During the day’s fighting, the dapper South Korean had earned his assigned slot as Kevin’s right-hand man a hundred times over.

Rhee was crouched beside one of the three remaining Dragon launchers. He saw Kevin’s wave and scuttled over.

Kevin filled him in on the situation and gave him his orders, trying to use the formal tone he knew the South Korean liked. “Lieutenant Rhee, I want you to lead the boys across. Leave me one Dragon team, one MG team, and a rifle squad. We’ll follow after you’re on the span. Clear?”

The South Korean nodded.

“Okay, then. Get moving.” Rhee rose to a crouch, but Kevin stopped him with a hand. “But keep everybody out of sight as long as you can. I don’t want the NKs to know we’re going until we’re long gone.”

Rhee nodded again and moved off to get the company organized and loaded onto its trucks.

The exhausted men of Echo Company needed no urging to leave their foxholes behind and crowd onto the waiting vehicles. One by one the trucks pulled out onto the road and roared off down toward the bridge and safety.

Kevin spread his remaining eleven men out in a thin skirmish line along the crest of the hill. Montoya crouched beside him in the foxhole that served as his CP, turning every five seconds or so to see how far the company had gotten. Kevin kept his eyes on the woods to the north.

He didn’t have any illusions left. Another North Korean tank attack would sweep through this last squad as if it weren’t even there. The most they could do would be to give a little warning to the men waiting to blow the bridge.

Minutes passed. The signs of movement in the woods were increasing. The NKs could come anytime now. He glanced at his watch. Come on, Rhee!

“Echo Five Six, this is Five Four.” It was Rhee.

Kevin grabbed the handset. “Go ahead, Four.”

“We’re on the bridge.”

Kevin felt relief wash over him. He stood up and cupped his hands. “Second Squad! Let’s get the fuck out of here. Let’s go, people!”

He watched the woods while his troops grabbed their weapons and jogged downhill toward the last truck. The driver already had its engine running. Men swarmed over the tailgate, turning once they were on board to help others up.

Oh, God. Tanks were emerging from the tree line, forming up for the
attack. Ten, eleven, twelve… Kevin counted them rapidly. There were at least two North Korean tank companies moving toward him.

“Lieutenant!” It was Montoya yelling at him from the truck. “C’mon, sir. We gotta get out of here!”

No shit. Kevin spun away from the oncoming North Korean tanks and sprinted hard for the waiting truck.
KARRUMP. KARRUMP.
Dirt kicked high behind him. NK mortars were zeroing in on the hill. He ran faster, arms pumping out from his sides.

KARRUMP.
Rock fragments and splinters whined overhead, thrown by an explosion to his right. Kevin skidded to a stop, panting, at the back of the truck. Hands reached down to pull him aboard as the driver put it in gear and raced away toward the bridge. Behind them the hill they’d been defending disappeared in a sea of blindingly bright flashes as the NK heavy artillery opened up.

WHAMMM!
The truck careened around a shell crater and roared onto the empty bridge. Kevin sat up amid his men as they swayed from side to side under the low canvas roof. Gray-white smoke billowed high in the air above the hill. The North Koreans were laying a smoke screen to cover their attack. He smiled crookedly. They were wasting a lot of ammunition on people who weren’t there anymore.

The truck crossed over to the south side of the Han and slowed, turning off onto an access road running along the riverbank. The driver slammed on his brakes, fighting a skid, as he turned a corner and came face-to-face with a row of concertina wire laid across the road.

“Everybody out! Out! Take cover over there!” Grim-faced combat engineers waved Kevin and his men out of the truck. They jumped down over the tailgate, some falling to their knees in the mud, and staggered over behind a snowbank.

“Blow it!” Kevin looked up at the voice and saw an engineer wearing colonel’s insignia staring intently at the bridge. He followed the man’s gaze.

WHUMMP. WHUMMP. WHUMMP. WHUMMP.
Kevin covered his ears as the series of explosions grew louder and closer together, rippling across the bridge from north to south. Whole sections of the roadway buckled and then flew upward, spinning end over end before splashing into the river below. Others simply sagged and then fell over, crashing into the water in a spray of white foam and ice.

When the smoke cleared, the Haengju Bridge lay in ruins, torn and ripped into a mangled mass of twisted steel and shattered concrete, poking above the water here and there. Tanks appeared momentarily on the hill to the north of the river and then backed hastily out of sight. The North Koreans would have to find another way across.

ABC WORLD NEWS TONIGHT

The camera view showed a computer-generated map of South Korea, with red arrows showing the known positions of the attacking North Korean columns.

“Defense Department sources admit that, although the enemy’s advance has been slowed, it is still continuing. According to these sources, American and South Korean troops are currently engaged in what is called a ‘determined fighting withdrawal.’ Other people tell us that’s what used to be called a retreat.

“For other news of the day’s events, we go to ABC’s Karen Fuchida near the small town of Benicia, California.”

The camera cut away to an aerial view of row after row of gray-painted merchant ships riding motionless at anchor against a backdrop of flat marshland and low, rolling hills. As the helicopter moved closer and swooped lower, work crews could be seen swarming over several of the vessels.

“Civilian contract workers continued their ‘round-the-clock’ efforts today, as they pushed relentlessly to ready these ships of the nation’s ‘mothball fleet’ for sea. Once they’re ready to go, these ships will join others already carrying much-needed cargo to the troops fighting in South Korea.”

The camera view shifted again, this time to the main street of a small town nestled among snow-covered cornfields in Iowa. Men in green uniform fatigues moved purposefully around a square, brick building.

“Meanwhile, National Guard and Reserve units around the country received orders putting them on standby alert for possible movement overseas. There wasn’t a lot of flag-waving enthusiasm, just a lot of quiet determination.
ABC’s
John Peterson asked one Guardsman about his feelings.”