'Right now we ain't got the bluddy luxury of thinking about that, do we?' Sikes snapped. 'The bastards are in here and we got to throw 'em out, yeah?'
'Of course,' the Brigadier said. He turned to Khadid. 'Captain, I want you to take ten of your men and go around the northern flank and down the mountain. You are to go directly to the camouflaged entrance. If you meet resistance there, destroy it, then move into the fortress and attack the Americans from the rear.'
'I can leave immediately, Excellency!' Khadid said.
Now Khohollah addressed Captain Komard. 'Send two of your grenade launcher teams with him for support.'
'Yes, Excellency!'
'I shall collect them on my way out,' Khadid said, rushing to obey the order.
The Brigadier looked over at Sikes, who had taken the arm of his wounded shoulder and pulled it from the sling. 'How are you doing, Major Sikes? You seem to be able to function.'
'I'll do me bit, don't worry none about that, sir,' Sikes said.
'Excellent,' the Brigadier said. He turned his eyes on Captain Komard. 'While Captain Khadid is making his attack, you and Major Sikes must combine your forces and pin down the Americans. When we catch them between your group and the detachment of Captain Khadid, we will have the battle won.'
The two officers rendered quick salutes, then left the bunker to tend to their duties.
ONCE again the fighting in Operation Battleline had evolved into one of attrition. The four survivors of Ensign Taylor's assault section had now been joined by the seven men of SCPO Dawkins' outfit. Dawkins led his men forward, working to spots within the Second Section's firing line. A moment later the seven Headquarters weenies joined the crowd, adding their firepower to the mix.
Meanwhile, out in the trench, Lieutenant Jim Cruiser was in excellent cover with five SEALs. They were keeping busy preventing Zaheya troops from entering the third bunker from the trench to attack the Brigands in the interior. Several dead ragheads who had been caught in defensive fusillades were sprawled at the entrance, piled one on top of the other. All this happened in the roaring pandemonium of the battle. Any additional Zaheya fighters would have to use interior ingresses to join the fighting, and that put them under the direct fire of the Second and Third Sections.
OUT in the natural cover and concealment around the rear entrance, Chief Matt Gunnarson had arranged his men in a semicircle, with each one able to combine his zone of fire with the guys on both sides of his position. Their SAWs were locked and loaded, and they had plenty of ammo at hand.
Greg Beaver was on the extreme right flank of the Chief 's defensive line, which covered the fortress's hidden ingress. Beaver perceived a line of skirmishers that suddenly appeared to his right front. They were moving rapidly toward the SEALs.
'Enemy sighted off my flank,' Beaver reported.
An instant later, four incoming grenades from one of the rapid-fire LAG launchers splattered around the SEAL, blowing his life away. The other five SAWs immediately responded by hosing out long fire bursts into the scampering riflemen moving toward them. The attackers responded with two more grenade barrages among the SEALs.
The resultant detonations claimed the lives of Arlo Bartholomew and Terry O'Rourke.
Matt Gunnarson sighted one of the enemy grenadiers and fired a quick burst from his M-16, cutting the guy down. 'Brigand Boss, this is Big Gun,' the Chief said into his LASH. 'We're under heavy attack out here from rifles and grenade launchers. I've taken three casualties in the past couple of minutes.'
Brannigan's voice came back, calm in spite of the bad news. 'Have Gomez call in air support, Chief. Those F/A-eighteens are out there someplace.'
'No can do, sir! The enemy is in too close and moving closer. We'd be in as much danger as the bad guys.'
'Do your best then, Chief,' Brannigan said. 'I'll send Puglisi and Miskoski out to you. As of the moment they're the only ones I can spare.'
'Send 'em ASAP, sir!'
SIKES had managed to get the jabbering over the LASH quieted down and was able to issue orders to his men in the fourth bunker. He had given up on sending an attack down the trench line to rush into the third bunker, but left a couple of rifleman to keep the Americans outside occupied.
The rest of the Arabs were well protected behind the stack of sandbags. The incoming fire from the third bunker ricocheted off the walls, but all ended up slamming harmlessly into the burlap containers. Now Sikes Pasha's Storm Troopers didn't bother to aim as they sent blasts of automatic fire into the other bunker, knowing that the slugs bouncing around in the interior would eventually find live flesh to plow into.
BRANNIGAN realized the only way they were going to take that fourth bunker would be to storm through the narrow entrance into the interior. He had fifteen guys with him, more than enough to get the job done. The only problem was that the first three or four were sure to be mowed down like wheat stalks in a Kansas harvest. He couldn't order his men into a situation of certain death unless he led the way. He looked over at the SEALs nearest him. His old stalwarts Mike Assad and Dave Leibowitz were at his side. The Skipper took a deep breath, knowing it was close to being his last.
'We're gonna storm through that door en masse. We'll have to go in shooting. Leibowitz and Assad, get behind me. As soon as the three of us get through there, the rest of you come in on our heels. And pump out those three-round auto bursts. If you aim just over the sandbags into the wall, your rounds should ricochet down into the ragheads.'
The SEALs were astounded and stopped firing for an instant, then renewed their salvos. Everyone--including Mike and Dave--knew that they and Lieutenant Bill Brannigan had as much chance as that proverbial snowball in hell once they entered the other bunker.
'Everyone put in a fresh magazine,' Brannigan ordered. 'Get ready! On my--'
Frank Gomez's voice crackled over the LASH headsets. 'Skipper, word just came over the Shadowfire. Cease fire! Cease fire and pull out!'
'Say again!' Brannigan angrily demanded.
'We have received orders to cease fire and withdraw.'
'Goddamn it, Gomez!' Brannigan said.
'Did you authenticate that transmission?'
'Yes, sir.'
Brannigan swallowed hard, almost stunned by the astounding news as he managed to utter, 'Cease fire.'
Now it was CPO Matt Gunnarson over the net. 'Brigand Boss, this is Big Gun. The enemy attack has broken off. They've pulled back.'
'Same out here,' Jim Cruiser reported. 'The enemy is no longer firing. There are no ragheads in the trench.'
The quiet that had suddenly descended over the scene of the battle left their punished ears buzzing. Everyone looked at each other in puzzled confusion. Now they heard scuffling in the fourth bunker, and the sounds suddenly faded away. Ensign Orlando Taylor took a cautious look into the interior.
'Skipper, they've withdrawn,' he reported. 'The place is empty.'
'What about that shit,' Mike Assad commented. 'The war's been called off.'
For a long moment, Brannigan said nothing. Then he turned and gestured toward the exit. 'Alright! Get the hell out of here.'
The SEALs grabbed their dead and abandoned the position, the bodies slung over sturdy shoulders.
.
OVAL OFFICE WHITE HOUSE
3 SEPTEMBER (LABOR DAY) 0715 HOURS
THE President showed an apologetic half smile. 'Hell of a thing to ask you to work on a holiday, gang.'
Arlene Entienne, Carl Joplin, Colonel John Turnbull of the SOLS, and Secretary of State Benjamin Bellingham shrugged it off.
'Well!' the President continued. 'The Iranians accepted a cease-fire on the Afghanistan border. The deal was negotiated by Carl with their charge des affaires here in Washington. Or should I say in Arlington, since it was
