Jeffrey and rolled across his legs. Pieces of sheet metal fell more gently, and clanged on top of asphalt or autos or Gastarbeiter. The rain of solid debris formed a nonstop counterpoint to the roaring and bursting of the ammo train, and the crackling of burning vehicles in the lot.
Jeffrey ordered his people forward. They had to reach the water, and a platoon or more of German soldiers was rushing down from the north, beyond the front end of the freight train. The machine gun on the pier opened up again — it had escaped the earthquakes and the conflagration, and its crew were angry men. Jeffrey hit the dirt. Salih dropped next to Jeffrey. 'I think I can make a diversion for you,' Salih shouted. ' If we all stay here we're dead men. I'll lead my people in the other direction, and we can try to join the partisans in the forest.'
'No,' Jeffrey yelled. 'I want you to come back with us.' Salih shook his head. 'I can't leave my followers.' Nearby, Ilse's light machine gun fired at the heavy one on the pier. Rifles cracked on semiauto or crackled on full auto — the SEALs were long out of ammo for their sound-suppressed electric guns. Ilse's MG made a tearing sound, and the heavy MG bellowed. The approaching German soldiers' fire grew more effective, too.
A big wave hit the seawall. It broke, and drenched the parking lot with spray — a local tsunami, another effect of the massive explosions.
'Look, Gamal, we need you, to go in front of the U.N.
It might get your mother country to come in on the Allied side, or at least give Third World neutrals second thoughts about joining the Axis.'
SEAL Nine crawled up next to them. Ilse fired again, from a different position, at the German soldiers this time. Some of them spun and fell in lifeless heaps. The others continued advancing by squad, using fire and movement steadily. Jeffrey filled Nine in.
'Mr. Salih,' Nine said, 'I can stay and work with your men. An even trade, me for you.' Nine's name was Andy Cooper, from northern Idaho.
Jeffrey didn't disagree with Cooper. A SEAL, training and leading a partisan group, would make a formidable force. There was a sick social Darwinism here — the surviving Turks were good but cautious fighters, and combat- blooded, too.
Salih turned to Jeffrey. 'I can't swim.'
'If we're lucky you won't need to. We'll try to capture a speedboat, or make a raft.' Salih looked at Jeffrey like he was crazy
Montgomery crawled closer. 'I think you should come with us, Mr. Salih. We SEALs are good at water egress.' Once more Ilse's MG exchanged short bursts with the German soldiers. Their light MGs responded. The surviving heavy MG also tried to find and silence her. Salih shot at its emplacement on the pier. He didn't answer Jeffrey or the chief.
Jeffrey sent Cooper to fetch Ilse and have her give her weapon to a Turk. Ilse crawled to the command group. Jeffrey filled her in.
'I agree, Mr. Salih,' Ilse said. 'I've had to go through this myself. We need you to speak out, to testify.. You can always return, reinsert through hostile lines. Look at me.' Salih hesitated, and Jeffrey could see his torment. The constant incoming fire and detonations in the distance wouldn't help him think.
'All right,' Salih finally said. 'I suspected this was coming… assuming any of us get out of here alive.' 'I'll form up the men for a diversion,' Cooper said. 'That German platoon is working closer,' Jeffrey said.
'I'm going after the machine gun on the pier.'
A helicopter gunship tore in from over the water, its Gatling cannon blazing. Out of the corner of his eye Jeffrey saw Montgomery pull a Stinger from his huge equipment pack. He fired. The rocket roared at the helo. They connected. There was another bright flash, then a hard, sharp bang, and debris fell into the bay. The MG on the pier fired toward the source of the Stinger, and everyone blended into the now-wrinkled asphalt. Bits of pavement — secondary projectiles — pelted the group once more.
'I'm going into the water,' Jeffrey shouted. He'd seen a boat tied to the pier. 'Chief, keep that MG distracted!'
'We're out of missiles!'
Jeffrey swam under water in his Draeger. The surface roiled and chopped, from the earthquakes and landslides and tidal wave.
His dry suit was badly cut up, and he was quickly chilled. At least the cold reduced the pain of his minor cuts and wounds. He surfaced quietly under the pier, and spotted the fortified emplacement for the machine gun. From this close its report was very loud. Spent shells fell between the planks of the pier, and hissed on hitting the water. From below, Jeffrey placed a satchel charge. He yanked the timer cord. A guard saw something through the planks, and fired down with his assault rifle. Jeffrey dived away, and the bullets plunged past his right side — the guard had forgotten to account for the bending of light by the water, and his aim was off. The satchel blew. The force of the air-burst was painful even underwater. Burning planks landed in the bay.
Jeffrey stayed submerged for protection. When the rain of debris died down, he came to the surface. The emplacement was blasted to smithereens. Jeffrey cursed. So was half the pier, and the rowboat he'd seen tied up. His SpecWar skills were stale; he had used too much explosive.
He turned around and almost shit his dry suit. He saw a low-slung landing craft come right at him. Its top hatch popped open, and two heavily armed men aimed their weapons in his direction. They recognized him, then scanned the sky for threats. It was Meltzer's minisub, running in on the surface. He'd been watching through the periscope, and waiting for his chance.
Meltzer held the minisub against the remains of the pier with his side thrusters. The two SEALs who'd stayed in reserve with Meltzer dashed forward with a heavy mortar and mortar bombs, to help drive the approaching German soldiers back. There was another huge eruption from the ammo train, and everyone ducked.
'Chief,' Jeffrey shouted above the noise, 'give Nine and the Turks all we can spare of weapons and food and medical supplies!'
Montgomery nodded. 'It looks to me like they've all got good footgear and overcoats by. now!'
Turks and SEALs carried Clayton and eased him down the open top hatch. Jeffrey and Ilse handed down the disk drives. These too went into the transport compartment, including parts smashed during the battle. Jeffrey hoped they weren't impaired by the magnetic storm — at least the cases were nonconductive.
Last came the model missile, still largely intact. It barely fit through the wide top hatch, and had to be left awkwardly filling most of the lock-out sphere. Those who were staying behind bid farewell to those who were leaving. Cooper said he'd do everything possible to maintain a diversion, to draw forces from the bay.
Jeffrey threw some radiation sensors into the water, then closed the top hatch; the sensors would transmit in a few days, to show if the bay was contaminated. Meltzer got underway, following the narrow dredged channel leading from the pier.
Montgomery, watching the sonar, shouted that a speedboat was attacking. Jeffrey opened the top hatch — the water was much too shallow for the mini to submerge. Water splashed and sloshed as the minisub picked up speed. It had low freeboard; one shell through the hull and they were finished.
Jeffrey shouldered a Stinger that a reserve SEAL passed him from below. Jeffrey drew a bead on the speedboat. He was afraid the Stinger might not work, out here in the conductive seawater with the solar storm, but he got a tone as green tracers probed in his direction. He fired, and the missile tore away. It hit the boat, and fuel and ammo blew in wild secondary bursts. The aurora high above, reflecting off the choppy bay, plus the exploding ammo train, made a beautiful light show. Flying debris kept landing in the water all around. Jeffrey dropped back inside and dogged the hatch. In the lock-out sphere, bending around and leaning under the missile, the two reserve SEALs were finished suiting up. Each held a compressed-air-powered underwater rifle, which fired depleted uranium bullets, deadly out to twenty or thirty feet.
'In case we meet enemy swimmers, sir, leaving the bay. They may try to block the hole in the concertina, or put limpet mines on our hull.'
Jeffrey nodded. These men were up, clicked in, ready to fight. He knew he was in good hands.
Jeffrey went into the back to check on Clayton. The wound was through his lower left pelvis, from front to back. SEAL One said it must have been a. 7.62mm round—.30caliber. It hadn't tumbled, but cleanly pierced muscle and went right through the saddle of the pelvic bone, below vital organs and away from key blood vessels and nerves. Clayton was very, very lucky — he might even return to combat status. He was shocks getting plasma from an IV, and groggy from a morphine shot, so Jeffrey didn't try to talk to him.
Jeffrey gave silent thanks that Clayton had survived; Jeffrey had grown very attached to the man, his
