IT was quiet and still within the UN camp. The calm had lulled the Brigands into a lethargic state of near- dozing. Now and then, someone would yawn widely out of sheer boredom.
BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM!
Heavy automatic fire suddenly erupted from the western side of the camp, sending hundreds of slugs slapping into the tents, shaking the SEALs out of their collective doldrums.
Senior Chief Petty Officer Buford Dawkins yelled into his LASH even though he could have easily been heard if he whispered. Red Section! Port around starboard! Return fire!
Red One, Two, and Three's motors were quickly started, and the drivers whipped the DPVs to the right, swinging 180 degrees around to face the incoming rounds. The machine gunners began pumping out spurts of slugs even though they had yet to spot any obvious targets. The idea was to throw out a heavy fusillade to get the unknown attackers to duck down or pull back.
SIKES Bey had been standing in his command hatch as the UN camp's tents first came into view. The sight of the structures still standing infuriated him. He had brought all twenty of his EE-3s with him, and they were well positioned in a line of attack. He grabbed his microphone and pressed the transmit button.
Atlak! he yelled. Open fire!
The gunners, peering through their periscopes with gunsights etched on the lenses, quickly aimed into the center of the tents. The twenty Dashikas blasted the heavy 12.7-millimeter slugs straight into the area in combined bursts of 180 rounds a second.
Now unexpected return fire splattered among the EE-3s, smacking and clanking on the armored hulls. Sikes Bey and the other vehicle commanders quickly dropped down into the interiors, slamming the hatches shut.
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UNREO CAMP
THE exchange of machine-gun fire built up in intensity, the choppy detonations echoing off in the desert sky. Brannigan ordered the vehicles to the west side of the defensive perimeter to find good fighting positions. At the same time, transmissions over the headsets came hot and heavy.
This is Red One. I can count twenty of the bastards. Out.
This is Green Three. They are starting to curve around our right flank. Out.
This is Red Three. Same on our left. Out.
This is Command One, Brannigan said. Section leaders spread your vehicles out to avoid letting the enemy outflank us. Out. Then he turned his attention to the DPVs out on watch. Hey! You goddamn three blind mice, what're you doing out there? Sitting around with your heads up your asses?
The first reply came from Mike Assad. Command One, nobody's slipped through this position. Command Three and Green Two gave the same reports, the dismay evident in their voices even over the radios.
Alright, Brannigan said. Get your asses in here and come in shooting! There's more than six times the number we anticipated. Out.
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THE BATTLE
THE fighting opened up as Sikes Bey sent his command into an enveloping maneuver. The SEAL DPVs responded by extending their formation, keeping the armored cars constantly moving in an outward direction.
COMMAND One! Our bullets is bouncing off the bastards! Dawkins reported.
Brannigan silently damned the Station Bravo S-4 for not providing them with armor-piercing rounds. He instantly reached the conclusion they were going to have to cut and run. There was no way that patrol vehicles with a single machine gun loaded with ball ammo were going to be able to knock out armored cars. But he couldn't order a retreat until the three watch DPVs had rejoined them. All units! Fire at their tires!
That's what we been doing, sir, Milly Mills said. But they keep coming.
Brannigan knew that meant the enemy had run-flat tires. But they're slowed down, aren't they? Over.
I don't know. Wait, Milly said. A moment passed, then he came back. By God! They sure as hell are! I don't think they're as fast as we are anyhow. And it looks like they have a tough time steering when the tires on one side are hit.
All vehicles! Brannigan said. Dodge, dart, and shoot! We gotta take advantage of our superior speed. Out.
OVER in his vehicle, Sikes Bey bounced and swung in his seat with each movement of the EE-3. He had now determined his command was impervious to the enemy's fire as he viewed the fight through his periscope. But he also noticed his foes were faster and more nimble, making quick, short turns that the armored cars could not match. And the fact that several tires had been shot up slowed down his vehicles' speed and maneuverability even more.
JIM Cruiser whipped the steering wheel to the left, bringing Green One alongside an armored car some twenty meters away. The guy quickly spotted them and swung his turret and machine gun in their direction, firing long bursts. Bullets cracked and whined around Bruno Puglisi as he lowered the muzzle of his M-2 .50-caliber and made quick pulls on the trigger. Both tires on that side of the enemy vehicle were hit, causing it to lunge violently to the right. That spoiled the bad guy's aim, and Jim went back the other way, breaking clear as Puglisi cut loose with a couple more fire bursts.
Over on the other side of the fight, Red Three, with Milly Mills and Andy Malachenko, managed to come in on the rear of one enemy vehicle. Unfortunately, the ground was uneven in the area, causing the DPV to bounce. This spoiled Andy's aim and his bullets whipped off into empty air. Neither he nor Milly noticed the armored car driving obliquely toward them on the port side. A burst of four heavy rounds slammed into Milly's torso, twisting him violently in the seat belt as he collapsed across the steering wheel. The DPV rolled, tossing Andy out onto the hard-packed desert ground.
Now Command Two and Three arrived on the scene and joined the fight. They had monitored all the transmissions, and the drivers Dave Leibowitz and Doc Bradley moved smoothly into the rolling, circling maneuvering of the battle. It had evolved to the point that the situation was like fighter planes battling it out in dogfights as they sought to gain the advantage over each other. But in this case, there was not the added dimension of height.
The two tardy DPVs immediately opened fire at the exact time.
ONE of the armored car platoon leaders reported that additional fire was suddenly coming in. Sikes Bey's mind raced as he made a quick decision. That could mean reinforcements were arriving. He had already determined these were Americans, so there was a very good chance that air strikes had already been called in. It was time for a strategic withdrawal. He reached for his microphone. Dauwir retreat!
The fighting broke off with the same abruptness it had begun.
.
1235 HOURS
BRANNIGAN decided a pursuit was useless. It would only result in a battle of attrition the Brigands would eventually lose even if they were faster than the bad guys. The ammo loaded into the M-2 .50s was not going to penetrate into the armored car interiors. The Skipper also vetoed following after them to see which direction they headed. That could lead to an ambush by a stronger force joining the original attackers. This was one of those maddening situations where a guy was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.
The sad thing was that Milly Mills was dead. He had been one of the original members of the old platoon from which the detachment had evolved in three bloody operations. His vehicle, Red Three, lay on its side as the other SEALs drove up to the site. They quickly unassed their vehicles and rolled the shot-up DPV back upright. Senior Chief Dawkins and Gutsy Olson gently removed Milly's body from the restraints of the seat belt. The corpse was placed in the back of the vehicle under the machine gun. Andy Malachenko, sprawled out on the ground, was badly bruised and dazed, but Doc Bradley said he would be okay within a short time. He was unable to drive, so he would ride shotgun with Dawkins on the trip back to Shelor Field. Pete Dawson would drive Red Three in the convoy.
Now, with the afternoon desert winds picking up, Brannigan and Cruiser stood looking out over the UN camp. All the tents were down and tire tracks had torn up the ground. Valuable medical equipment was smashed, torn up, and scattered across the area. This would bring the camp's humanitarian mission to a sad finish. Cruiser glanced toward the Pashtun village. They're not even out of their houses.
