toward the stronger enemy group until contact is made after dark. That will be the Odd Couple's job. When they've scoped out the enemy position, we'll make a three-pronged attack in the darkness.'

'What's the order of battle, sir?' Chief Gunnarson asked.

'The Alphas and Deltas will form up to hit the enemy straight on,' Brannigan replied. 'Charlie Team will go out of the ravine, then get into position on the right flank. Bravo Team will do the same on the left. When everyone is ready, I'll give the word and we'll make a simultaneous attack. From the number of helicopter flights, I estimate we'll be going against maybe eighty or ninety men. But we'll have three big things in our favor. The first is the element of surprise. The second, and most advantageous, is our night vision capability.'

'What's the third advantage we enjoy?' Cruiser asked. 'That we are SEALs,' Brannigan replied. He pressed the LASH throat mike. 'Assad! Leibowitz! Report to me!'

.

2230 HOURS LOCAL

MIKE Assad and Dave Leibowitz were not close enough to see or hear the mujahideen. They became aware of the enemy's proximity through the tingling nerves that come from a strong awareness of imminent danger. These instincts had developed over countless combat patrols and hours spent on point in hostile territory. They glanced at each other, then came to a halt. Mike tapped Dave's shoulder, and pointed to the left. Dave nodded his understanding then waited while his buddy led the way out of the ravine to higher ground.

Their senses sharpened even more when they reached the exposed area. They stepped slowly and deliberately, scanning the immediate vicinity in all directions. It was Dave who sighted the OP first. He grabbed Mike's sleeve and pointed. Mike then led them farther to the left, then turned in slightly past the mujahideen position. When they stopped, they could see the bivouac. Both quickly and silently estimated that there were seventy-five or eighty men down in the ravine. All were either seated or lying down, obviously waiting for some expected event--such as a group of infidels stumbling into them.

Mike and Dave retraced their steps, went back down into the ravine and headed in the direction of the platoon.

.

THE MUJAHIDEEN POSITION

2330 HOURS LOCAL

THE fighters were tired and hungry. Their field rations had been no more than balls of rice, and they'd not even had tea to wash down the meager meals. Only the tepid water in their old Soviet canteens was available to satiate their thirst. Most had been badly unnerved not only by the dangerous, skilled enemy they faced, but also by the bones of Durtami's mujahideen that were scattered across the ridge they had to climb in the dangerous attempts to reach the enemy positions. Some of the men claimed the sound of the wind across the mountains was not from the usual gusts; instead it was the weeping moans of the lost souls of dead Muslims whose flesh had been consumed by jackals and buzzards.

Most of the men slept fitfully, enduring the discomfort of having to lie down on rocks and bumpy ground to slumber. A few were awake, nervous about the unusual chain of events that had brought them to this strange place in the foothills.

These were the ones that heard the slight but sudden sounds of pings and dull thumps.

They didn't realize these were from the seven hand grenades that had just been tossed into their midst. As soon as the detonations began, heavy firing came from the front. This was quickly joined by salvos from the right and left that sent dozens of rounds to sweep through the two mujahideen platoons.

Now Alpha and Delta Teams moved in from the front, raking the prone enemy with automatic fire bursts of three rounds. Bravo and Charlie Teams slid down into the ravine from their attack positions to join their platoon mates.

The entire platoon charged through the position, leaving dead and wounded mujahideen as they rushed out the other side to continue rapidly down the ravine.

Chapter 16

THE FOOTHILLS

28 AUGUST

0630 HOURS LOCAL

LIEUTENANT Wild Bill Brannigan had decided there wasn't much to be gained by simply running like a herd of zebra being pursued by lions. As the Brigands continued through the foothills, his mind raced with ideas on how to keep any pursuers not only off balance, but nervous as hell in the bargain. A hesitant enemy was a less dangerous enemy. Unlike the zebras, the SEALs had some pretty sharp fangs of their own.

The skipper considered sending out patrols since that was the normal manner of harassing bad guys. The activity also served to keep tabs on what kind of trouble the sons of bitches were trying to stir up. But he had to keep in mind that the platoon was involved in a vital retrograde movement and they really had to get the hell out of the area as fast as possible. This precluded any possibility of standing still while sending out fire teams to observe or hassle the mujahideen.

Then the solution to the problem of keeping the enemy on edge came to him in a flash. An ambush would serve that purpose just as well if not better.

The art of sneaky deadly ambuscades was the most tried and true means of shocking an enemy ever applied throughout military history. Although harassment was the secondary purpose of ambushes--destruction of the enemy was the primary motive--it would serve the platoon well. A small unit like the Brigands would have a distinct advantage over even a much larger one in a well-planned attack from concealed positions. Most of the time, the unit suffering the assault overestimated the number of attackers and reacted accordingly in subsequent combats. After suffering a bloody ambush, they would conduct their operations in a much more prudent and wary manner.

The only regret Brannigan had was that with only fourteen men, he would be unable to organize a baited trap ambush. If they were a stronger force, the SEALs could use the original ambush as bait to draw in enemy relief forces. These would be hit by one or more harassing ambushes as they rushed to aid their pinned down buddies. The harassing elements did not have to destroy the targets, only delay and disorganize them while inflicting casualties. The tactical situation that developed would dictate the method for breaking contact and melting back into the countryside. But with a little more than a dozen men, this was not going to be feasible.

Brannigan came to the conclusion that in the future if the SEALs were going to be participating in longer in- country missions, the platoons were going to have to be reorganized and beefed up. This would be something to put in his after action report.

.

0845 HOURS LOCAL

WI LD Bill Brannigan kept his thoughts to himself until they reached a perfect site to lay an effective ambush. When he perceived the possibilities of the location, he viewed the area with a ferocious happiness. The ravine narrowed and deepened slightly, with excellent areas of cover and concealment along the top. During a potential ambush, if the victims decided the best course was to charge through the incoming fire, they would be slowed when they tried to crowd themselves through the confined space at the end.

Brannigan spoke into the LASH. 'Let's hold it up. Point men report to me.'

The SEALs went into a defensive posture, covering all sides as Mike Assad and Dave Leibowitz came back from the point and trotted down to where the skipper waited for them.

'Hey, guys,' Brannigan said: 'I've got a short recon for you. I need to have the top of this ravine around the immediate area checked out. See what's up there. Cover and concealment is what I'm interested in.'

'Aye, sir,' Dave replied.

Brannigan and Frank Gomez boosted them up so they could climb out of the deep gulley. While the Odd Couple was gone, the Skipper decided to take the opportunity to have a stroll down the platoon column for an informal visual inspection. He visited the Bravos first, finding Senior Chief Buford Dawkins restless as usual. He was standing up while his only companion, Chad Murchison, sat comfortably on the ground with his back resting against the ravine wall. Gutsy Olson, normally a member of Bravo Fire Team, had been sent over to the Charlies, then further dispatched to accompany Joe Miskoski on rear guard.

The senior chief eyed the Skipper somewhat suspiciously. 'What've you got on your mind, sir?'

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