1 AUGUST 0455 HOURS
NUMEROUS dark shapes slipping over the Zaheya defenses and heading down into no-man's-land were suddenly discerned by the SEALs standing-to on their MLR. Lieutenant JG Jim Cruiser was the officer of the watch, and he responded immediately to the excited whisperings coming over his LASH headset.
'All hands!' he said in a businesslike tone of voice. 'Turn out! We've got 'em coming over here at us big time.'
The SEALs off duty responded quickly, rushing from their bunkers to fighting positions, having grabbed weapons and ammo kept next to their bedrolls. Chief Matt Gunnarson's trio of machine-gun crews were up and ready within sixty seconds. In spite of the frantic activity in the American lines, no careless noise was made that would alert the attackers that preparations had been made to meet the assault. Bill Brannigan joined Cruiser, studying the scene through his NVBs. 'I don't see anything.'
'They've already dropped out of sight into the cover down in the valley,' Cruiser explained. 'I counted thirty, but there was more than that.'
Bruno Puglisi's voice came over the net. 'Skipper, d'you want me and Joe to go topside with our AS- fifties?'
'Negative,' Brannigan replied. 'Get on line. We're going to need all the firepower we can muster up here.'
'Aye, sir,' Puglisi replied. 'We'll grab a couple of the ex-try M-sixteens.'
Over in One Section, Tex Benson, the SAW gunner, caught sight of an individual diving into the cover of a thicket. He aimed the automatic weapon into the vegetation and sent in a short burst of fire. An explosion immediately followed that sent rocks and other natural debris hurtling through the air.
'What the fuck was that?' somebody remarked.
'Maybe one of them assholes stepped on a mine,' another somebody replied.
'Keep the chatter down!' SCPO Buford Dawkins said. 'Nobody yaks over the LASHes except to give orders or warnings. Anyhow, nobody's laid any mines out there that I know of.'
Some additional single shots from the American side of the valley sounded as the SEALs did some search by fire, and after half a dozen rounds were fired, there was another explosion. Chad Murchison's voice could be heard right after the fusillades. 'The raghead I shot exploded!'
Suddenly some enfilading fire from the SEAL machine guns swept a portion of no-man's-land where some more ragheads were spotted as they dashed from one thicket to another. The results were two more explosions.
'What the fuck is blowing up down there?' came the senior chief 's voice as he ignored his own orders to can the excessive chatter.
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ZAHEYA BATTLELINE
LESS than half an hour had passed since Brigadier Shahruz Khohollah gave the attack order via his communications system, sending the suicide bombers over the barricades and down into the valley. Five minutes later, Sikes Pasha and the Arab Storm Troopers, along with Captain Naser Khadid and the Iranian Imperial Lions, scrambled from their fighting positions and rushed downward to the valley floor to trail after the human bombs. The young Arab zealots followed previous instructions by taking advantage of the cover and concealment in no-man's- land. They scampered awkwardly forward to get nearer to the American MLR. The mandates given them were simple: Get as close as possible to the infidels, then blow themselves up.
The Arab and Iranian rifle units behind the martyrs were spread out in skirmish formations, firing upward at the enemy. This tactic would most certainly attract attention and bullets their way, but it also would give the bombers a better chance to get close enough to detonate their explosives and take out a greater number of Americans.
Sikes Pasha saw yet another explosion erupt, spreading a brilliant millisecond of light over the scene. 'Poor bluddy sod,' he muttered to himself, then he spoke into his LASH. 'Amkammal rimaya--keep firing!'
As the Storm Troopers continued to send up their fusillades, the Imperial Lions followed suit. The suicide bombers, now at the base of the slope leading to the SEAL positions, were just about in position to begin the ascent under the cover of the sweeping gunfire from their Islamic brethren behind them.
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THE BATTLE
THE sun was nearing the apex of the eastern mountains, and the light of day was increasing measurably. Along the line in Three Section, SCPO Dawkins and his SAW gunner, James Duncan, kept busy going after targets of opportunity, sometimes making guesstimates as to where some individuals might come back into view after rolling or diving into the covering vegetation.
Dawkins spotted one guy emerging from between a stand of boulders and fired quickly at him, scoring a direct hit. He watched in amazement as the guy exploded, a small, dark object flying straight into the air from the center of the detonation. Both Dawkins and Duncan watched the thing, worried it might be a large grenade or a mortar shell. It arced toward their position, then began a downward plummet. The two SEALs dived for cover as it hit the ground near them, rolling along the ground until coming to a halt. They looked at it, then each other, then back at the gruesome object.
The head of a young Arab, his eyes open wide and his mouth grinning eerily, lay against a sandbag a couple of yards away.
Dawkins rose to a crouch and went to it, grabbing the severed cranium by the hair. He heaved it over the side of the fighting position toward the ground below. Duncan shuddered. 'That's the damndest thing I've ever seen! I'll be having nightmares about that son of a bitch for the rest of my life.'
'Well,' Dawkins allowed, 'it was kind of weird, alright.'
ONE of the bombers, a sixteen-year-old who had left school to martyr himself for Islam, had done a good job of getting close to the American positions. He was a skinny little Saudi Arabian, and he used his slight physique to remain out of sight in the scrub brush as he scrambled across the valley of no-man's-land. His mind-set was such that he scarcely noticed all the firing, with bullets clipping the air around him and zinging off rocks. The kid's entire concentration was on staying alive long enough to get up the slopes right under the infidels and yank the firing cord of his explosive vest. When he reached the far edge of the natural growth of thorn bushes, the determined boy stopped and flung himself to the ground.
The sun hadn't cleared the high country to the east, but it had risen enough that the dark orange of dawn had disappeared from the sky. The kid thought of how proud his parents would be, especially his father when they told all the men at the mosque of this great sacrifice made in the name of Allah the Beneficent. Now the night's coolness was gone, and as the day grew brighter, it seemed like the lights of Paradise shined down on the scene. The lad felt a fierce joy grip his heart, and he hollered, 'Allah akbar--God is great!'
He leaped to his feet and rushed into the open toward the slope. When he reached it, he clambered upward, tears of joy in his eyes. He managed to go only five yards before the bullet struck his shoulder, twisting him around and causing him to fall face first into a painful slide down the rugged slope to the base of the mountain. An instinctive realization that he had received a mortal blow swept through his fading consciousness. Blood was in his mouth, and he could barely breathe. His life and the time to end it gloriously were fast running out. It took all his waning strength to grab the detonation cord and give it a weak pull. The battery-powered detonator sparked, the cap flashed, and five pounds of C-4 plastic explosive were set off.
The kid's upper torso was vaporized, and the concussion of the blast killed a rabbit in a nearby thicket.
THE SEALs were now fully aware that the attackers--at least those in the direct front of the assault formation-were suicide bombers wearing explosive vests. Everyone concentrated on singling out the crazy bastards, and shooting them down as they charged out into view. Those who escaped the initial incoming rounds ducked back when the volleys of fire from the Americans built up. Occasional explosions still occurred, sending natural and human debris flying upward, along with shock waves that bounced off the hard ground.
Brannigan now issued instructions that all machine gunners, grenadiers, and SAW gunners were to fire hot and heavy, sweeping the areas near the base of the slopes. It was obvious that the bombers' forward momentum had stopped there, and the fanatics were only waiting for half a chance to rush upward toward the SEAL positions. Meanwhile, the enemy backup force of riflemen had been discovered just past the midpoint of the valley. They were undoubtedly waiting for the bombers to disrupt the defenses enough to allow a decisive charge that would carry
