enough time and space for a quick counterattack to keep 'em off balance.'
Cruiser was thoughtful for a moment before expressing an important concern. 'Didn't you say Al-Qaeda could be in that area?'
'Yeah. But we have no other choice,' Brannigan said. 'It's like we're damned if we do and damned if we don't.'
'When do we move out, sir?' Senior Chief Dawkins asked.
'Oh-one-hundred hours,' Brannigan answered.
Cruiser checked his watch. 'That'll give our guys damn near three hours to rest up for the ordeal.'
'Rest up?' Brannigan remarked. 'We've got two graves to hide, not to mention digging caches for the mortar and third line equipment. We're hauling ass with little more than weapons and skivvies. You guys turn to and get those items taken care of. If it's done fast enough, the men will maybe have a twenty-or thirty-minute breather to rest up for the withdrawal.'
'Luxury!' Cruiser said with a grin. 'You're spoiling the platoon, sir.'
'Yeah!' Brannigan said with a humorless chuckle. 'Who said it was tough in the SEALs?'
Chapter 15
WEST RIDGE BASE CAMP
21 AUGUST
THE task of caching extra gear such as the 60-millimeter mortar system and everyone's third line equipment had taken longer than Wild Bill Brannigan estimated. It was difficult to do the work properly because of having to rely on the night vision system goggles to make sure the excavations were undetectable after being filled in. It was even necessary to eliminate boot prints as much as possible so the mujahideen could not make a ballpark estimate of how many people had occupied the mountaintop. The two chief petty officers made damn sure nothing was left to chance. Everyone's life literally depended on keeping the mujahideen guessing.
The most difficult part of the activity involved the graves of Kevin Albee and Adam Clifford. The idea of abandoning these resting places of their buddies seemed near sacrilege to the SEALs. As if this wasn't bad enough, the knowledge that some miserable raghead would tread over the graves gave Brannigan's Brigands a sense of shame tinged with a deep grief. The fact that it was a tactical necessity did not lessen the emotional pain.
Although the Skipper had ordered the noise of the shoveling be kept to a minimum, he wasn't that concerned about it. If the mujahideen detected the sound of digging, they would only assume the infidels on the ridge top were reinforcing their fighting positions. This would serve well in giving the impression they were staying put. It was of the utmost importance that they conceal the fact that an escape off the mountain was in the offing. But the work took extraordinary effort, and nobody in the platoon was able to get any rest before it was time to abandon West Ridge for the questionable safety of the ravine country to the west.
.
0100 HOURS LOCAL
THE entire platoon was stripped down to their combat vests, taking only first and second line equipment, along with extra ammunition bandoleers, the PRC-112 radios, and hand and M-203 grenades. As soon as everyone was checked out, the chiefs formed them up to begin the withdrawal. The order of march was Alpha, Bravo, Delta and Charlie Teams. The point was manned as usual by the intrepid Odd Couple, while Joe Miskoski and Gutsy Olson acted as rear guards. Since the route would be through the deep ravines of the foothills, Brannigan didn't bother to station flankers out on the sides of the column. Security would have been seriously compromised if anyone walking in the open above the deep gullies was spotted by enemy reconnaissance patrols.
Mike Assad and Dave Leibowitz led the way down the ridge slope, moving slowly and carefully as they peered into the darkness through the night vision devices. Behind them, the rest of platoon followed noiselessly, being extra careful to avoid the rattling of equipment and bandoleers of ammunition. They knew the mujahideen would have OPs scattered throughout the area, and the need for total alertness was super critical. A safe withdrawal could only be made if they stayed vigilant and cautious. Fate would not be kind to the careless.
The platoon reached the valley floor, and Mike signaled a halt while Dave went forward a few meters for a quick re-con. He came back and whispered over the LASH. 'There's an OP manned by two ragheads approximately twenty-five meters ahead at ten o'clock. There's a way around them, so follow us real careful.'
'Carry on,' Brannigan whispered back.
The two point men led the way farther to the north for a hundred meters before turning back west toward the foothills. A half hour later the Odd Couple eased back to the original direction, but they hadn't gone far before Joe Miskoski at the rear spoke urgently. 'Enemy patrol! Left flank!'
'Everybody down!' Brannigan ordered, thinking about what a relief it would be when they finally reached the concealment of the ravines. There would be constant danger of contact with the enemy until they left this open, flat country.
Within moments a six-man patrol of mujahideen could be discerned moving carefully in the opposite direction. They had no night vision capabilities, but were doing an excellent job of maintaining their course and speed without any unnecessary noise. The only sound came when one grunted slightly after making a misstep on the uneven terrain. A few more nervous moments passed before Joe spoke again. 'All clear!'
'All right,' the Skipper said. 'Move out!'
Mike and Dave stood up and renewed the westward trek.
.
TOP OF WEST RIDGE
0720 HOURS LOCAL
THE door of the Mi-24 helicopter's troop compartment was open, and Warlord Hassan Khamami stood in it, looking down at the place the enemy had defended with such ferocious determination and skill. They had chosen the spot well, he concluded, and he noted that they had an excellent view of the valley on all sides of the mountain. When the chopper touched down, Khamami leaped to the ground and hurried over to where his field commander, Major Karim Malari, waited.
The major saluted. 'Asalaam aleikum, Amir.'
'Greetings,' Khamami said. He looked around at the bare area, seeing no indication of anyone having recently been there. 'What is the situation here?'
'The infidels seem to have walked off the face of the earth, Amir,' Malari replied in an apologetic tone. 'We know they were here because they constructed field fortifications, yet there is no evidence of anything else. Not even boot prints or latrines.' He gestured in frustration. 'It is pristine, as if no one had been here for decades!'
'What about equipment?' Khamami asked. 'Surely they could not carry everything they had away with them.'
'There was not as much as a single cigarette butt,' Malari said. 'Not even a thread or button. It seems the entire ridge top has been carefully swept over by some diabolical giant with a huge broom. As Mohammad is the prophet, they must have buried things, but my men cannot find any evidence of it, no matter how hard they search.'
'At any rate we don't have the time or need to start digging around here,' Khamami said, angered by the situation. The foreigners were indeed a clever enemy. 'The only direction they could have gone is west.'
'I agree, Amir. The foothills and ravines leading to the western mountain ranges offer excellent concealment.'
'Prepare some men for aerial transport out to the foothills ahead of where the enemy must be,' Khamami ordered. 'Meanwhile I shall dispatch the helicopters to make an aerial search for them. The foreigners are not invisible! We will find where they are eventually.'
'Au, Amir!' Malari said, again saluting. 'I shall order two platoons to ready themselves for air transportation. They will be waiting when the aircraft return from their scouting mission.'
Khamami turned and trotted back to the helicopter to order the aerial reconnaissance to begin. Now there were more than material reasons to destroy this elusive enemy. He had grown to hate them in a cold, calculating way. The warlord was ready to apply his own tactical talent, and the tenacity of his mujahideen, to destroy these maddening foreigners.
.
THE FOOTHILLS
