out the fire in the tree, and one of the basement's backup diesel generators just came on-line.'
Jeffrey looked at Clayton and smiled. 'Now we get to have our perfect L-shaped ambush. Any return fire'll be backstopped by the ridge uphill or the buildings at the dead airstrip. May I do the honors, Lieutenant?'
'By all means, Commander Fuller. I see old habits die hard.'
'Seven and Nine, Four,' Jeffrey said. 'On my mark, shoot your flash-bang grenades onto the roof. All numbers, choose your targets by azimuth zones like we practiced. You'll be weapons free when you see the explosions on top of the building.' Jeffrey waited for another lightning bolt, then the rumble of thunder. 'Mark.' He didn't hear the rifle grenades being launched since the rifles were silenced. He did hear and see the grenades going off, like another direct hit from the storm. The SEALs lying in the underbrush on both sides of Jeffrey and Ilse commenced firing. So did the rest of the team, uphill, from over the lip of the amphitheater. The guards began to stagger and drop, caught in a merciless cross fire. Jeffrey added his own contribution, aiming carefully with his reticle. Every time he fired while the imager was on infrared he could see the track of the bullet, made even hotter by friction with air. It was like watching tracer rounds. He could also see the effects as each round struck home, the spreading and spraying of blood coded red-hot on his visor, then cooling as the body instantly went into shock, and the kaleidoscope of colors on the face of his target from pain and awareness of death. 'This gives me the creeps,' Jeffrey said.
'Huh?' Ilse said as she changed clips on her pistol. 'A full-auto fire fight,' Jeffrey said, ' but we can talk in normal tones and there isn't any hot brass.'
'You know,' Clayton said as he reloaded his rifle, 'you're right.'
Jeffrey picked off two more guards who came around the front of the building. The range was thirty-five yards, long for a pistol shot, but the 3-D visor hologram reticle was better than a sniperscope.
'These electric guns are weird,' Jeffrey said.
'Ground-level troops are all dead,' the SEAL chief called from the rear of the Sharks Board. 'Roof guards are still reeling, and the inside ones are confused. The electrified fence is deenergized — the diesel must not be rated for it.'
'Grenadiers hit the roof again,' Jeffrey ordered. 'Fence breachers move in.' SEAL Seven launched another flash-bang. SEAL One grabbed the mine probe. SEAL
Two rose and rushed forward, wielding a compressed-air-powered bolt cutter. He quickly sliced a gash through the chain link and high-voltage wires. Jeffrey, Ilse, Clayton, and the three SEALs ran through the gap, then headed right.
'Climbing-rope team starting up,' the chief reported from the uphill side. He sounded breathless.
'Okay, Ilse, good luck,' Jeffrey said. He left her with Two and Seven, crouching at one corner of the main building near the entrance. Jeffrey and Clayton and SEAL One made for the side door of the missile bunker. SEAL One scanned for booby traps, then went down the poured-concrete steps.
'Door's locked,' he said. 'Shielding's too good, can't tell if anyone's in there.' He pulled out a length of detcord and a timer and fastened some in a circle around the electronic lock in the door. He ran back up the steps. 'Fire in the hole,' he said. The three of them hit the deck. There was a sharp crack and the stink of spent explosives. SEAL One was on his feet. He kicked in the door and threw in a flash-bang grenade while Jeffrey and Clayton covered him. SEAL One dashed inside.
Jeffrey saw One roll to the ground and start shooting. The bunker wasn't unoccupied. One kept firing, bright muzzle flashes, ricochets pinging and whining. Then he was hit, low down, under his flak jacket. Jeffrey lunged into the bunker. He saw a Boer soldier dead, another taking cover behind the missile, firing at it on purpose. The Boer saw Jeffrey and brought his rifle to bear. Jeffrey aimed at floor level, between the missile launcher struts, and shattered both the man's ankles. As the soldier collapsed, screaming, Jeffrey fired into his abdomen, his neck, his face.
SEAL One was moaning, clutching a bad pelvic wound.
'He got my spine,' One said. 'I can't feel my legs.' Clayton bent down to help him. The room was filled with smoke.
'The missile!' Jeffrey shouted. 'Check out the missile!' Clayton approached it, carrying the detonator box and a heavy bag of equipment. Jeffrey pulled a field dressing from his load-bearing vest. He urged One not to move.
'Warhead's intact,' Clayton said. 'The bastard shot up the arming section, not that we care…Rocket motor's a mess. Good thing it's solid fuel — the stuff landed all over the place…Physics package gamma and neutron emission spectrum checks out.'
'Confirmed it's not a dummy?' Jeffrey said. 'We've got live U-235?' Clayton nodded.
'All numbers, Three,' Jeffrey heard. 'Roof level secured. Four more enemy dead, no friendly losses.'
'Three, Four,' Jeffrey said, 'SEAL One's hit, bad. Missile secured.' Jeffrey turned to Clayton, who seemed distraught over his man.
'Leave me,' One said. 'I'll be okay.'
'Do you want some morphine?' Clayton said.
'No,' One said, 'I have to hold down the bunker. Bandage the exit wound and give me a local. Hook up a plasma drip and give me back my weapon.' The smell of blood was thick.
'Shaj,' Jeffrey said, 'take care of him. I'm going over to Ilse's team to lead the main attack. We have to keep up the pressure — we can't let the Boers regroup.' Jeffrey grabbed a South African assault rifle and all the ammo he could find on both of the bodies. He noticed the one he'd killed was a lieutenant.
'I'll catch up with you in a minute,' Clayton said. He held a spray can of antihemorrhage wound-fill foam.
Jeffrey saw Clayton's jaw and eyes set tight as he treated SEAL One with ruthless efficiency. Jeffrey knew that feeling all too well.
Outside the bunker Jeffrey grabbed SEAL One's mine-detecting scanner. He ran through the rain for the front steps into the Sharks Board, then threw himself to the ground. There were no targets, no return fire.
'Three, Four, status?' Jeffrey called.
'We've breached the roof-level stairway bulkhead,' the SEAL chief said. 'We're starting down to the second deck.'
'Three, Four, okay, Chief. We're assaulting the front entrance now.' Jeffrey got up and waved to Ilse and the two SEALs with her. The four of them charged up the tile-covered steps, between the aluminum handrails, firing at the glassed-in entryway. By their muzzle flashes Jeffrey glimpsed the stickers to the right of the doors. The admissions fee was ten rand for adults, six for kids and oldsters, and they took Visa and MasterCard. Then all the glass shattered and the team ran through, maintaining a volume of fire.
Two guards were visible inside, behind an armored see-through partition that was stopping Jeffrey's rounds. A transceiver sat on a table, its outer casing charred. The guards were heading for the back of the building, where Jeffrey could hear frag grenades and screaming from upstairs. The guards turned when Jeffrey's group came in by the front door. They fired instinctively, but their rifle bullets grazed the partition without going through.
'Blow it down!' Jeffrey shouted. He and Ilse took cover behind two big concrete planters in the lobby. SEALs Two and Seven placed a small satchel charge against the base of the partition, then joined Jeffrey and Ilse. Both guards fled to the rear after popping chemical smoke grenades that blocked IR. The satchel charge went off with a roar — the partition was in ruins. The foursome dashed straight through, tossing stun grenades into side rooms and following up with volleys from their weapons. Jeffrey's South African R4 clicked empty. He reloaded on the run, another thirty-fiveround clip, then fired right through the plasterboard interior walls. The air filled with white dust. His receiver parts clattered noisily, and spent shell casings clinked. He tossed another grenade, then sprayed more bullets after it — the pantry room, unoccupied. They swept the first floor quickly. The guards had all taken cover inside a sandbagged and armored vestibule, protecting the stairs to the basement lab. SEAL Two was using the radar scanner. 'This deck's been structurally reinforced. That's the only way down.'
The Boer guards shot at SEAL Two through firing slits in their miniature fortress, and Two hit the deck.
'Four, Three, upper level clear, all occupants terminated. We're at the bottom of the staircase down to you. We'll give covering fire so you can breach the vestibule enclosure.'
'Good,' Jeffrey said. 'Shoot from hip level into the slits. We'll crawl under your suppressing fire and put satchel charges in place.'
SEALs Two and Seven each grabbed a pair of satchels from their packs. Jeffrey dropped his rifle and grabbed
