they struggled to rebuild the corner of the fortification that had been pounded to pieces by mortar shells. Dark spots of blood showed on the smashed mud blocks and the ground where the dead and wounded had fallen.
Durtami nodded to the bodyguards beside him. They raised their AK-47s and fired off short bursts of automatic fire to get the attention of the muttering crowd. When all eyes were on the warlord, he raised his hands as if calling his fighters to prayer. 'We have been invaded by infidels!' he proclaimed. 'They serve Satan and have been sent by the Evil One to destroy us. For more than a week they have lurked unseen in these mountains and valleys, protected by the black magic of absolute evil. At first we fought them as we would fight mortal men. But we might as well have been naked under this onslaught of Satan's power as he sought to destroy us.'
The mujahideen were visibly moved by this revelation. The warlord's words explained a lot about their recent failures in battle, and all now knew this had not come from their failings. Supernatural evil had brought this calamity down on them. Frightened expressions that had dominated their features had now turned to scowls of righteous anger.
'These defeats we suffered were like ancient plagues of locusts,' Durtami continued. 'Fighting the Evil One is beyond mortal men's capabilities. Therefore, in order to destroy the demons, I now, at this very moment, with the blessings of Allah the Merciful, the Beneficent'--he paused for effect 'I declarejihad--holy war!'
Now the mujahideen cheered, jumping and prancing around as they waved their weapons over their heads. In their minds this meant divine protection and guidance to achieve certain victory over this diabolical enemy. Several minutes went by and the bodyguards had to fire into the air to get them to simmer down. They turned their attention back to the warlord.
'What I have said to you is thus written in the Holy Koran!' Durtami shouted. 'We shall know the greatest victory in the history of Islam!'
This was a hint for Kharani to step forward with the Holy Book. He opened it at a marked page and read loudly so all could hear. 'When great wrong afflicts the True Believers, they should defend themselves! And when the True Believers defend themselves they do no wrong! The wrong is done by those who oppress the True Believers unjustly, and they shall suffer the most painful of punishments.' He closed the Koran. 'These words of Allah are proof that we shall win. Thus, have no fear, brothers, you will prevail over the Evil One's servants!'
Durtami took over again. 'It is written that we are in the right by striking back viciously at the infidel followers of Satan! Allah looks down on us as we go forth on the holy mission! Fear not death, for if you die in this struggle you will immediately go to Paradise where seventy houri virgins will serve you and pleasure you throughout eternity. With this jihad now declared all of our brothers who have already died have received their rewards and now live with Allah and the Prophet. Prepare yourselves for this great battle that will destroy the demons prowling our land. You shall force them and their leader, Satan, back into the depths of hell!'
The mujahideen went back to wild cheering and more prancing around, their eyes wide with excitement. At first their shouting was intermingled and uncoordinated, but after a few moments chants began to emerge from the roaring voices.
'Jihad! Jihad!'
'Allah is great!'
'Death to the infidels!'
Over in the village, the women had gotten the gist of the warlord's speech, and now shrilled their warbling encouragement to the men.
.
WEST RIDGE
19 AUGUST
0545 HOURS LOCAL
THE mujahideen had gone en masse to the base of the ridge, looking toward their objective at the top. They moved quietly and slowly into what cover they could find in the rocks, to await the order to charge. There was no unit integrity among them, although they tended to congregate with special friends on this holy mission. The previous night had been spent fasting and praying as each prepared himself for the glorious struggle ahead.
Bashar Abzai was among the fighters. This man who had been made a sergeant was by himself in the crowd. His best friend, Sayed, had died on the wall, and now Abzai turned his thoughts to this departed comrade. Neither one of the young men had ever had a woman. Once, back when they were teenagers, an itinerate camel driver passing through with a caravan had photographs of naked females for sale. The sight of the rounded feminine bodies, with breasts, wide hips and hairy triangles between their thighs, caused them to tremble with a strange desire they could not fully understand. As they viewed the images, their penises grew hard and extended with a throbbing that was somehow as pleasurable as it was troublesome. This thing with women was confusing. By Islamic law the young men were forbidden casual fornication, yet Allah had made women so alluring.
But Sayed, now in his eternal life, knew all. At that moment he would be among seventy houris, and all would be naked as he enjoyed them to his heart's content under the blessings of Allah. Every day and night in the endless spinning passage of eternity, Sayed's secret passions would no longer be smothered. Instead he would have endless hours of the greatest pleasure known by man.
Abzai turned his thoughts to Paradise. It must be a wonderful place, where it was never too cold or too hot; where succulent meats, fruit, breads and cakes were available in unlimited quantities; and where sweet nectars and cold clear water slaked one's thirst. No hard winds drove gritty dust into one's face in Paradise. No hard work exhausted one's muscles until they cramped and burned. And those houris! Those wonderful, beautiful houris!
Abzai's reverie was suddenly, broken by a loud shout from the rear. 'Allah akbar! God is Great!' That was the signal to advance upward to kill Satan's demons. The young mujahideen leaped to his feet and began moving toward the summit of the ridge, joining the shouting of the other warriors of Islam.
'Allah akbar! '
.
THE BATTLE
JOE Miskoski was on the morning watch, looking out through the diminishing gloom of the night, when he heard the noises below. He looked downward, then grabbed his binoculars. Dozens of mujahideen moved up the side of the ridge toward him, looking like animated rag dolls.
Over to his right, Kevin Albee and Milly Mills reacted by firing down into the human targets bobbing among the rocks and boulders as they progressed upward. At almost that exact moment Chief Matt Gunnarson appeared among the trio of SEALS. After one quick look, he hurried over to the CP to alert the platoon.
BACK on the top of East Ridge, Warlord Ayyub Durtami and his entourage watched the attack across the valley. Ahmet Kharani held a pair of Soviet binoculars to his eyes. He spoke softly but in good spirits. 'The fighters are doing well, Amir. They are filled with the holy spirit as they work their way upward toward the infidels.'
Durtami was satisfied just looking at the distant figures of the mujahideen moving among the concealment of boulders and brush as they made a rapid advance to close with the enemy. 'Today is our day, Brother Kharani,' he said with uncharacteristic friendliness. 'I hope we will find many weapons and ammunition bandoleers among the corpses of the infidels. Our stocks have shrunk over the past weeks.'
LIEUTENANT Wild Bill Brannigan was at the firing line, moving from position to position as the SEALs fired single, aimed shots at the enemy advancing up the ridge in an uncoordinated, ragged assault. It was obvious the mujahideen planned on overwhelming them by sheer numbers. Automatic fire, even three-round bursts, would have been a waste of ammunition at that range. The platoon, with each man working within his individual field of fire, picked out targets of opportunity that bounded among the boulders. Now and then, after firing a well-aimed round, they were rewarded with the sight of an attacker suddenly staggering back and falling to the sloped ground as the strike of a bullet ended his life. Some rolled a few meters down, until their corpses collided with the rocks and brush scattered over the terrain.
Bruno Puglisi had no opportunity to set up the French mortars because Connie Concord, the other fire support man, was covering the opposite side of the ridge with Bravo Team. But Puglisi was able to use his M-203 to advantage when groups of mujahideen inadvertently congregated. Occasionally, the 40-millimeter grenades did a lot of damage, throwing shrapnel and shards of rock into the groups. But most times the targeted individuals had dispersed by the time Puglisi could get off a shot.
The attack pressed relentlessly upward, and the platoon began to have the disturbing sensation of shoveling sand against the tide. The ragged figures advancing toward them were rapidly closing the gap between the two battling groups of desperate men. Brannigan shouted encouragement to his men, urging quick, but carefully aimed
