Cooper had to step over badly mangled bodies to access the door. The charge had been prepared prior to departure, and was ready for placement.
Cooper backed away. “Fire in the hole!”
The explosion was more modest than what Greer expected. And that made sense, since the purpose of the charge was to destroy the lock, not the door. Smoke swirled as Cooper hurried forward, gave the barrier a kick, and saw it swing open.
A private named Pinder hurried to toss a smoke grenade through the opening. “Now!” Greer shouted as he entered the space beyond. Bodies were strewn all over the reception area’s floor. A casualty said something, raised a pistol, and paid the price.
A metal door blocked their way at that point. But, thanks to Greer’s description of the barrier, Cooper was ready for the challenge. “Fire in the hole!”
The explosion was larger this time, and not only destroyed the lock, but blew a hole through the door. There was no response from inside. And that made sense. The guards had been sent out to fight.
With help from Pinder, Cooper managed to push the door aside, revealing the hellhole beyond. Nothing had changed since Greer’s previous visit. Cages were crammed with prisoners. The stench was sickening. Hundreds of eyes stared. Greer spoke over the command frequency. “This is Gun Daddy. We’re inside. Give me a sitrep. Can we turn the prisoners loose? Over.”
Greer wanted to release the prisoners, knowing they would run every which way, causing Filipino soldiers to chase them. But turning them loose into the middle of a firefight would be a monstrous thing to do. So, Dancy had to make the call. “This is Alpha-Six. Let ‘em go. We’re in control out here. And you can bet your arse that reinforcements are on the way.”
“Roger that,” Greer replied. “There are a lot of loose weapons lying around, so watch the people coming out. We’re going in after the pilots. Over.”
Greer heard two clicks by way of a response. He turned to a corporal. “Cut the locks. Start at this end.”
Two commandos, each armed with a pair of bolt cutters, went to work on both sides of the corridor. A cheer went up and the prisoners battled for positions in front of cell doors.
Greer, M4 at the ready, led the rest of the squad down the central walkway to the cell where the pilots had been previously. His heart sank. Some terrified Filipinos were being held in the cage where the pilots had been confined.
Had the aviators been taken to China? If so, Corporal Boyle had died for nothing. “Who speaks English?” Greer demanded. “Where are the American prisoners?”
There was a stir as a man with a bloody bandage wrapped around his head pushed his way to the front of the crowd. “The guards took them.”
“When?”
The man shrugged. “They took my watch. Three, maybe four hours ago.”
“Did the guards say where they were taking the prisoners?”
The man shook his head. “No. But there are interrogation rooms in the basement. I would look there if I were you. Open the door and I’ll take you there.”
A soldier carrying a bolt cutter arrived. Greer pointed to the padlock. “Cut it.”
The lock rattled as it hit the floor and a cheer went up as prisoners pushed the door aside. There was a rush to get out. Greer half expected the man with the bandage to flee. But he didn’t. “Follow me,” the man said, and turned toward a door Greer had paid scant attention to during his prior visit. It was made of steel. A head-high, wire mesh window made it possible for jailers to see who was about to enter. Not surprisingly the door was locked. But Cooper was there to set a charge and trigger it. “Fire in the hole!”
Greer spoke into his headset. “Gun Daddy to Alpha-Six. The prisoners were moved. We’re going to search the basement. Over.” Dancy offered two clicks by way of an acknowledgement.
Hinges squealed as Greer pushed the door open. There were no defenders to block the way. Metal stairs led down. Greer followed them, turned into a switchback, and immediately took fire. A burly private shoved Greer aside, fired a shotgun, and nodded. “Sorry sir, but there’s a reason why we don’t put pilots on point.”
Greer grinned. “Sorry, my bad.”
Three commandos slipped past Greer. A dead guard lay sprawled on the floor, a pistol not far from his right hand. The man with the bandage paused to scoop the weapon up and Greer allowed him to keep it.
Overhead lights led the way through a long corridor with rooms on both sides. Commandos checked them one by one. Then they paused. “This one is locked!” a private shouted.
Greer was about to send for Cooper when the commando with the shotgun stepped forward. He shouted “Stand back in there!” and fired. The door gave. A second commando kicked it open. Greer entered. The aviators were standing with their backs to a wall. All three of them.
Ames was on the left, Symons was in the middle, and Wix stood to the right. He was the first to speak. “Holy shit, it’s Gun Daddy!”
Greer nodded. “That’s right Dickhead … Where’s the fifty-bucks you owe me?”
Ames laughed and Symons began to sob. Wix gave him a hug. “Come on Drew, we’re going home.”
***
Off the coast of Luzon, the Philippines
Ryson was sitting on the Rockhampton’s bridge when the report came over the intercom, and all hell broke loose. “Two-three targets inbound! Repeat, two-three targets inbound. ETA three minutes!”
Mike Christian, the Rockhampton’s skipper, was about to issue an order when a call came in over the radio. Ryson recognized Atworthy’s voice. “Seadog-Seven to all units … We have contact, repeat contact, with …”
“Fire!” a lookout shouted, “at ten o’clock!”
Ryson turned and saw that the lookout was correct. A low-lying fire
