Seal Team Seven #19: Field of Fire (10 page)

“Oh, yes,” Trenton said. “I’ve met the lady before but never when she looked like this.”

She came back with three bottles of cold beer.

“The bastards are actually making these devices. They could sell them to terrorists all over the world. It’s a wonderful nonlethal way to knock out a government before it knows what has happened. Aren’t there any defenses against it?”

“Some say they can seal electronic components in air-tight boxes, but I’m not sure that would do much good,” Murdock said.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?”

“You could bring me about fifty RPGs in the morning,” Murdock said. “We have a twenty-millimeter shoulder-fired weapon I’d love to have right now. It’s U.S.-made so we couldn’t bring it in.”

“A twenty-millimeter shoulder-fired rifle?” Barbara asked.

“Yes, an amazing weapon we can get air bursts with. We have seven of them, but they’re all a continent away.”

“What else?” Barbara asked. “How much time would you need at the factory to blow it into rubble?”

“An hour at the most. If we can just walk in and plant our bombs, it wouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes.”

“You have plenty of C-5?”

“Yes, more than we need. We always like to plan ahead.”

“I can give you the hour you need and pull half of the troops off the lab site,” Barbara said.

Trenton frowned. “How in hell can you do that?”

“I still have a few friends in town here. This is the seat of government for the province, like a county seat. It has a small army detachment, usually three to six soldiers.” Barbara stopped and walked around the room, then came back and faced the two men.

“What would happen if there was an attack on the military post here in town? Maybe a charge detonated at the rear of the building knocking it down. Then a sniper attack at the front. Wouldn’t the locals scream for help? They know there are fifty troops only a dozen miles or so away. Wouldn’t that commander of the guard unit send at least half of his force into town to defend the military post and try to hunt down the culprits?”

Murdock grinned. “Barbara, are you sure you didn’t go to Annapolis or West Point? Your military strategy is sound.”

Trenton did a pace around the room, his hands clasped behind his back. When he stopped he smiled. “It could work. The commander of that unit would have radio contact with everyone in the area. We could use one sniper to miss hitting any of the soldiers in the post. Give the impression of a concentrated attack.”

“We could have our men in position for an attack on the laboratory,” Murdock continued. “If half of the soldiers raced away to town, we would take on the rest of them. Cut them down with our silenced sniper rifles before they knew we were there. If any were inside we would take them out in the blasts. We figure if the place isn’t more than eighty feet long and half that wide, we can take it down with charges placed against the outside walls.”

“Then go inside and mop up what is left of the devices, supplies, and people,” Trenton said. “You know this has to be a black flag operation.”

Barbara looked up, curious.

“Oh, black flag,” Murdock said. “Goes back to pirate days. When a particularly vicious and hated enemy was encountered, the attacker flew the black flag, meaning no quarter-if they lost, every man fighting against them would be killed. No prisoners taken.”

“That would have to be the case here,” she said.

They all sat down on the soft chairs and sofa, worked on their beers, and looked at each other.

“All right, we agree this is about our only option,” Murdock said. “What about timing? We do our best work after dark.”

“To catch the scientists and workers who made the devices, you’d have to hit them before four in the afternoon. Most of them live here in town. They start early, leave early.”

“Daytime it is. Say we hit the military post at thirteen-hundred,” Murdock said. “That’s one P.M. The relief column
should be leaving the laboratory by one-fifteen, and we can attack at two P.M.”

“Barbara. Do you have any people here who could set the charges and do the sniping?”

“I’ll do the charges, and I have a local who has an AK-47 who would love to do the shooting. I can convince him not to hit any of the soldiers.”

“Your talents just keep expanding,” Murdock said. She smiled and nodded, then looked away.

“If you could find us four more AK-47s. we could arm our two drivers and Mark and me. That would give us ten guns at the lab instead of six. Would you object to that. Commander?”

“All the help we can get.”

“Four AK-47s. I could get them in Damascus. Here, I’m not sure. I know of two. Let me make some phone calls.” Barbara put down her half-empty beer and left the room.

“She must be a great help to your work here in Syria.” Murdock said.

“She is, but she’s been walking a razor’s edge for the past year. She takes chances she shouldn’t. A dozen times she’s been a deep breath away from a firing squad. She’s fearless, like placing the bomb tomorrow. We can’t talk her out of it. She’s convinced that the auto wreck that killed her husband was a deliberate act by the Syrian Secret Police. She thinks they suspected that her husband was a spy for the U.S. because he had lived there for several years and came home. It’s getting close to time we’re going to have to send her back to the States, whether she wants to go or not.”

Murdock waved “I better keep my troops up to date. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Murdock went to both rooms and quietly told those awake what the score was for the next day. “We’ll go in hard and fast, use our silencers as long as we can, then open up with all the AKs we have and hope to put down the rest of the guards. Then we blow the building from the outside, move in and blast the rest of it, and haul ass for the border.”

“Only one road in and out of here,” Jaybird said.

“That could be a problem, but we won’t borrow trouble. If it happens, we’ll fight our way through and keep going.”

“What about the woman?”

“She’ll probably stay here for the rest of the visit with her friend. Her friend knows what Barbara does, and helps her out when she can.”

Murdock found the only unclaimed mattress and spread a blanket there and pulled the other one over him. He pushed the Peruvian subgun around so it lay right beside his head. He could have it up and ready to fire in six seconds.

Downstairs there was a sudden pounding on the house’s front door. Barbara’s friend hurried to the door. She opened it and two angry young Syrian soldiers stood there, their rifles at port arms ready to be used and screaming at her that they had to search the house.

As Suwayda’, Syria

Most of the SEALs heard the pounding on the door and the subsequent demanding voices. Jaybird was the first to edge the bedroom door open and hurry silently down the hallway until he could see the downstairs area. Not enough. They were at the front door. He lifted the little sub gun, made sure it was off safety and a round in the chamber, then edged down the steps. When he could see into the living room, he found two soldiers, shouting at a woman and waving their AK-47s.

Jaybird caught the Arabic words for “search” and “house.” They were busted if these guys got away. Jaybird angled the muzzle of the sub gun around the corner and aimed past the woman, at the closest Syrian soldier. He fired one shot. It sounded like a stick of dynamite going off in the closed room. The round took the foot soldier in the chest, slamming the 9mm Parabellum through his heart and halfway through his spine. He jolted backward and died as he hit the floor.

Jaybird jumped out from behind the corner and centered the sub gun’s muzzle on the remaining soldier. The woman had dropped and crawled away to the left. “Drop it,” Jaybird said in Arabic, surprised that he remembered the phrase that had been pounded into him. The Syrian soldier stared down at his dead buddy, then at the small submachine gun aimed at him. Slowly he let his rifle down until the muzzle touched the floor, then he dropped it.

There were noises behind him, and Jaybird knew he
had some help. He darted forward, kicked the weapon away, and pushed the soldier to the floor, on his stomach. “Bracelets,” Jaybird said without looking back. “Anybody got any plastic?”

One pair dropped over his shoulder and he pulled the Syrian’s hands behind his back and cinched them with the plastic riot cuffs.

Murdock knelt beside Jaybird. He checked the pulse on the first man down and shook his head. “We have to find out how he knew to come here and who else knew he was coming,” Murdock said. Rafii knelt next to them and turned over the live soldier. His eyes went wide when he saw a countryman staring at him. Rafii hit the man twice in the face with the flat of his hand, snapping his head from one side to the other.

The questions came fast from Rafii in Arabic. Most of the SEALs clustered around couldn’t understand all of it. After a dozen questions, Rafii settled back, then suddenly pushed the muzzle of the MPG-15 sub gun against the man’s forehead and began to pull the trigger. The Syrian wailed and then nodded. He jabbered for several sentences, then his voice turned into a pleading question.

Rafii looked up. “He and his partner were on regular patrol when they saw the van come into town. They evidently followed us here and watched the house. When it was obvious no one was leaving, and the van was still in the backyard, they decided to investigate. They told no one about their suspicions. They have no radio.”

“Car keys,” Murdock demanded of the Syrian in Arabic. The man nodded to his right-hand pocket. Murdock dug them out and tossed them to Bradford. “Probably the rig right in front. If it is, drive it to the other side of town. Take Fernandez with you for backup. Leave the car but take the keys and throw them away in some vacant lot. Go.”

The two lifted off the floor, took their MGP-15s, and hurried out the back door.

Murdock turned to Rafii. “Didn’t I see a lot of wells when we came in? No central water system?”

“Correct. Usually a town well every four or five blocks. The water table must be high here.”

“Jaybird and Lam. Use the van. Take these two and drop them down a well in some abandoned spot.”

Barbara came into the room. She looked at the dead man and then at the other one. “I know where there’s a well we can use. Nobody goes there anymore; it’s sour and full of iron seepage.” She wore a robe. “Give me five minutes to get some pants on.” She hurried away.

By that time everyone in the house was in the living room. The shades had been drawn. The two CIA men watched.

Trenton looked at Murdock. “The two bodies?”

“Black flag. We can’t let this one tell anyone what he’s seen here tonight. He probably knows some English, or could figure it out. He’s a black flag victim.”

“Agreed.”

Murdock pointed to Rafii and Lam. “Get these two in the van. Out the back door.” The two carried the dead man out, then came back for the live one. His eyes were wild and he was shouting Arabic. Murdock put a cloth gag around his mouth and tied it tight at the back of his head.

Barbara came into the room dressed and carrying a small automatic. “Does this change anything?” Murdock asked.

“The two will be missing. They’ll find their car. There will be a search, but it won’t touch us. I’ll make some discreet phone calls in the morning. No, I’d say we’re still on for the diversion at noon and the attack fifteen minutes later. Let me go on this burial detail.”

She left the room. “There goes a strong woman,” Murdock said.

“She has to be, living in a Moslem society,” Trenton said. “Women have almost no rights. They can’t drive a car, go to school, own property, be seen in public without a husband or a brother. She’s had to struggle here. The family business is in the name of her brother-in-law, but she’s the brains and the push.”

“I’m keeping a man on guard outside the rest of the night,” Murdock said. “What time is it?”

“Just past one A.M.”

Murdock turned to Jaybird, who was wiping up some spots of blood on the rug. “Need some good cleaner. I’ll get some from the owner of the house.”

“Then you come out front and relieve me on guard duty. We don’t want to be surprised that way again.”

Outside, Murdock found some deep shadows beside the house and next to a struggling tree. He had one of the sniper rifles with a round in the chamber and nineteen more in the magazine. He checked the sound suppressor on the front. It was screwed on tightly. He settled in to wait, checking the two cars he could see, watching the one house with lights on. Nobody moved. No dogs barked. Strange, no dogs. Too expensive to feed them probably. Or they had all been served on the dining room table for supper.

Then a figure moved from shadow to shadow next to the row of houses across the street. Murdock aimed the 6 × 42 telescopic sight at the figure. Whoever it was knew what he was doing. Then a moment later Murdock spotted a second figure following the lead of the first one. The man in front, dressed in Syrian-looking civilian clothes, took a long run from one house, across a lot, and to the next structure. At least they weren’t Syrian soldiers. Then Murdock grinned. Something vaguely familiar about the way the first man ran, like he had a little hitch in his get-along. Murdock relaxed. The man had to be Bradford who’d been sent to dispose of the car. Fernandez would be behind him.

The pair came almost even with the safe house, then stood and walked casually across the street, and toward where Murdock crouched. He let Bradford get almost to the side of the house, going for the back door, before he stood.

“Bang, bang, Bradford, you’re dead.”

Bradford jumped a foot to the side and pulled up his sub gun.

“At ease, Bradford. Those feet of yours make more noise than a team of wild horses.”

“Scared the shit right out of me, Cap. Don’t do that when I’m packing a loaded sub gun. Damn, that was close. I been a little jumpy on this whole hike back.”

Fernandez glided up beside them.

“Get some sleep,” Murdock said. “We’ll need it tomorrow. Then tell Jaybird to get has ass out here. We’re doing guard duty the rest of the night.”