and logical illogic had paid off. Station Bravo's supply officer sent a statement taking away all responsibility for the missing desert patrol vehicle that had disappeared during Operation Rolling Thunder. The DPV was now written off, putting it into that great logistical obscurity in the sky. Randy Tooley at Shelor Field would never have to give up that gift from Lieutenant Bill Brannigan as a token of appreciation for a job well done.
.
1130 HOURS
WEAPONS maintenance had been the main activity that morning. All the M-16 rifles, M-203 grenade launchers, M-249 squad automatic weapons, and even the AS-50 sniper rifles had to be detail-stripped and given thorough cleanings. This included submersion in boiling water to make sure the grit and grease that had worked into the smallest of the moving parts was dissolved. Afterward, after a complete wipe-down as the residual water evaporated, light coats of oil were applied.
It was not really a messy job, but hands got oily and dirty and were wiped as much on BDU trousers as on the rags furnished by the ordnance division that serviced the ship's weaponry. Ensign Taylor had been in charge of the activity, and he gave the men some extra time to wash up for chow. When they returned from the head to form up for the trip to the mess deck, they stepped into the compartment and halted.
Commander Tom Carey and Lieutenant Commander Ernest Berringer stood with the Skipper, Lieutenant Jim Cruiser, and SCPO Dawkins. They were obviously waiting for them.
'Uh-oh!' said Mike Assad.
'Oh, shit!' uttered Bruno Puglisi.
'This portends lugubrious developments,' Chad Murchison stated.
It was the senior chief who made the announcement. 'You won't be going to chow. Box lunches will be sent up to the ready room. So go there immediately if not sooner. There's business to attend to.'
ONCE again Brannigan's Brigands were scattered among the seats in the ready room, as they had been several times in the past. The officers and senior chief situated themselves off to one side, while Carey and Berringer stood at the front of the room.
Carey didn't waste any time with salutations or an introductory statement. He cut to the chase. 'Mission statement,' he announced. 'You will do a mop-up operation on an Iranian Special Forces camp after it has been bombed and strafed by the Israeli Air Force.'
The awe and shock at the announcement was shown on every face.
Carey continued, 'I want to emphasize from the very get-go that this is a highly--I say again--a highly classified mission. It is illegal, immoral, and reprehensible.' He paused and grinned. 'In other words, right up your alley.'
'Ha!' Puglisi said with a laugh. 'What brought this shit down?'
'I'm just about to tell you, Petty Officer Puglisi,' Carey said. 'The Iranians have secretly--they think--reneged on engaging in negotiations regarding their Afghanistan and nuclear ambitions. They are planning a full-scale invasion of Afghanistan, complete with tanks, armored infantry units, self-propelled artillery, and close air support. They fully expect they can be hundreds of kilometers into the country before the coalition forces will be able to react.'
Monty Sturgis, like the others, could hardly believe what he was hearing. 'Where do the Israelis come in on this? Are we coordinating our efforts with them?'
'I'm sure they'll be provided with some sort of clandestine aid, but that's just my opinion,' Carey answered. 'But all that is separated completely from what you're going to do. They will inform us at the last minute of the exact time of their attack, and at that point you will board USAFSOC choppers for a quick trip into Iran to the site of the action.'
Ensign Taylor was also not quite catching on. 'Just exactly what is this 'mop-up' aspect of our mission?'
'Exactly that,' Carey said. 'You will unass the choppers, form up as skirmishers, and move through the mess the Israelis made. Your mission is to police up any EPWs among the survivors or anything that may be of interest to our intelligence people.'
'How long are we expected to be on the ground?' CPO Matt Gunnarson asked.
'No more than twenty minutes,' Carey replied. 'The Air Force helicopters will be waiting for you with rotors turning. The Iranian Air Force will undoubtedly send some recon flights over to see what happened. So as soon as you've made your walk through the debris, return immediately to the aircraft for evacuation back to Afghanistan.'
'What part of Afghanistan?' Dave Leibowitz wanted to know.
'The same place where you'll take off from,' Carey said. 'That will be the LZ behind your former positions where you faced the Zaheya forces. The Air Force is going to pick you up here on the Daly's flight deck.'
'What're we gonna be toting in with us?' the SAW gunner Tex Benson asked. 'Is any special equipment called for?'
'Everyone will carry one M-sixteen rifle, two bandoliers of ammo, and a canteen,'
Carey responded. 'You'll leave the SAWs behind, along with the grenade launchers.' He glanced over to where Puglisi and Miskoski sat. 'No calls for snipers on this trip.'
'Now, sir,' Garth Redhawk said, 'I know we're supposed to going in light, but I'm not the optimistic type. I'd like to bring along my personal medical kit, a two-quart canteen, a couple of MREs, and my compass.'
Brannigan interjected, 'That's a good idea. And any other small items you want. And I emphasize that means no real additional bulk or weight.' He glanced at Carey. 'How's that, sir?'
'Approved,' Carey answered. 'And as far as commo goes, you'll use the AN/PRC radios with LASH headsets. Forget any night vision stuff. This is strictly daylight. Any questions so far? Alright! Commander Berringer has some intel notes to run by you.'
Berringer now took the floor. 'You were told to look for items that would interest the intelligence community. I want you to consider the big picture, and by that I mean keep in mind the CIA and others. Look for documents, videotapes, CDs, books, letters, and those sorts of things that might be scattered around the area. If it's feasible and you run across dead officers, search their pockets. Tear insignia off uniforms so we can use them to figure out orders of battle and ID certain units. And above all, do your very best to get EPWs. And that includes wounded personnel who would survive being carried back to the choppers. And I have these.' He held up a handful of pamphlets. 'These are charts showing the Iranian Army's insignia of ranks that I'm going to pass out to you. If you see anybody wearing shoulder straps, check carefully to see if they can be evacuated. And if they're sporting stars and wings on the epaulets, bring 'em back, dead or alive. Those would be generals, and I suppose there's a chance there might be one or two out there. It's plain and simple, and you guys have been around enough to recognize what is needed.'
Carey took over again. 'That's it. There's nothing left to do until we get the word when to move out. The Israelis are playing their cards close to their chests, so we won't know when they'll launch the air strike until the last minute. Commander Berringer and I will stay aboard the Daly, and if we get additional information, we'll pass it on to you ASAP.' He nodded to the Skipper. 'Lieutenant Brannigan wants a word with you now.'
'Right,' Brannigan said. 'We're down to twenty-four guys now, so we have to reorganize. I'm going to wait until we're on standby over at our former base camp to shuffle you guys around. It's going to take a bit of doing, but be ready for changes. And remember! These assignments are not negotiable.'
'Okay,' Carey said. 'I'll leave you guys to it. We'll be in constant touch with you.'
He and Berringer left the compartment, and all eyes were turned to Brannigan. The Skipper gestured to Buford Dawkins. 'Under the new setup you're the detachment chief. Get the ball rolling.'
'Aye, sir!' Dawkins responded. He turned to the others. 'Alright! Let's go, people!'
'Hey!' Bruno Puglisi yelled. 'Where the hell are them box lunches?'
CHAPTER 21
IRANIAN SF CAMP
THE principal officers who had been commanders in the now defunct Zaheya Force were ecstatic. After the long weeks of being nothing but glorified squad leaders in a clandestine struggle that was going nowhere, they had finally been assigned to meaningful command positions in an important upcoming combat operation in which they would spearhead nothing less than a full-blown invasion. And to make things even sweeter for Captains Naser Khadid and Jamshid Komard, they had been promoted to the rank of major. Komard was not assigned a larger unit
