SEAL Team Six Hunt the Falcon(11)
“Ritchie?” he called. “What the hell’s going on?”
“This is Corporal Henne. In real life, he’s a geological something or other,” Ritchie said enthusiastically, seemingly oblivious to the danger around them.
“I’m a geological engineer, sir,” the serious-looking Henne explained. “I should be working for a big oil company.”
“You will be someday, if we get out of here alive,” Crocker said.
“Maybe.”
“You find what you need?” Crocker asked Ritchie.
“More than enough. We’re planning something extra special, aren’t we, corporal?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” Crocker said, blowing into his gloved hands. “You need to move fast.”
Crocker returned to Station C to get Akil, and the four of them spent the next forty minutes placing explosive charges and running fuse wire. His back was complaining and his face was burning from the cold and wind when he returned to C and spoke to Perez.
“Here’s the plan,” he said. “Me and my men are gonna take over the big guns while you and your guys in Stations C and D go up to Wolf and King. Take as many weapons and bodies as you can. When you arrive on the next plateau, call me and let me know.”
“I will.”
“How much time you think you’ll need?”
“Fifteen minutes max.”
“Good. Get going.”
Perez immediately started shouting orders, and the grim-faced, exhausted collection of Alpha Company soldiers, national guardsmen, and marines packed their gear, collected their weapons, and rigged the bodies in makeshift plastic stretchers. After wishing the SEALs good luck, they took off.
The light was fading fast, so the SEALs donned their PS-15 night-vision goggles and laid down as intense and relentless a volley of fire as they could squeeze out of the big weapons. Crocker manned the GAU-17/A minigun, which spit out a bolt of white tracers that obliterated targets. He raked fire right to left, left to right, until his arms were almost completely numb, then reloaded.
He was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t hear the voice over his helmet headset. Davis reached over and slapped him on the back.
“What?”
“It’s Perez! He’s trying to tell you something.”
His hearing was messed up. He shouted, “What’s he saying?”
“They’ve arrived!”
“Already? They’re up on the higher plateau?” Crocker asked, looking at his watch and realizing that almost twenty minutes had passed.
“Yeah. They’re up at Wolf and on their way to Presley.”
“Good.” He carefully straightened his back, cracked his neck, then shouted, “Grab what you can and pull back to Station D. Akil and I will meet you there in five.”
“Roger.”
Crocker blew through the last three belts of 7.62x51mm shells, pulled the gun from its mount, and screamed at Akil, “Let’s go!”
“You sure, boss? I’m having too much fun!”
“It ain’t over yet. Follow me!”
They ran out the back door, scrambling and slipping up the path to Station D. The SEALs had pretty much cleaned the place out, except for the twin mounted M2HG machine guns, which were currently being fired by Davis and Yale. “Where’re the others?” Crocker asked, excitedly and out of breath.
“They’re waiting by the chain ladder up to the next plateau,” Davis answered, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose.
“Grab the radio and come with me. Akil, you and Yale lay down three more minutes of fire and join us.”
“We can’t do four?”
“Three, baby, three!”
They ran out through the falling snow, up a steep incline to the dark wall of the cliff. Ritchie stood there clutching an MP7. “Twelve more minutes,” he shouted to Crocker, “before the shit blows!”
“The rest of the men are already up the ladder?”
“Roger!”
Crocker pushed him and said, “You go. You and Davis. I’ll wait for Akil and Yale.”
“Chief—”
He took Davis by the shoulders. “Listen, this is important. Before you go, I want you to call Battier. Tell him we ran out of ammunition and are abandoning Stations C and D. Tell him we’re sorry, but we didn’t have time to rig any booby traps. And tell him to make sure to repeat all this to that ANA guy he calls Weed.”
“Okay.”
“The last part is the most important.”
Davis was already readying the radio. “Okay, boss. I’m calling him now.”
“Remember Weed.”
“Yeah. I got it.”
Ritchie had started up the chain ladder. Crocker checked his watch. Two minutes had passed since he had arrived at the base of the cliff. That meant there were roughly ten minutes left.