8.

Riyadh, Saudi Arabia The sleek Gulfstream II VC-11 landed at Riyadh slightly before dark. They had been halfway across the Atlantic before the pilot received word that he could land here. King Fahd ibn Abdul Aziz had made a special call to the American President to talk about the situation. It was an encrypted call from the American Emba.s.sy there. The President had confirmed that Iraq had four atomic weapons and they very well could use them on, or use them to threaten, their neighbors. Saudi Arabia would be a good first choice for Iraq. After a few tense words through interpreters, the President a.s.sured the king that this would be a one-time, lightning strike with no tie to Saudi Arabia or to the U.S. That American Navy SEALs would do the work and there would be no atomic detonations to worry about.

He had approved the landing at Riyadh, for the SEALs and an air transport to bring in additional support and vehicles to move the SEALs and a small group of soldiers toward the northern Saudi border.

Their usual CIA contact, Don Stroh, met them at the airport and led the way to an army complex where they would stay until the exact location of the bombs was known. Murdock, Ching, and Rafii would fly out on the VC-11 the next day, for Kuwait, which would be their jumping off point for Baghdad a day later.

Murdock whacked Stroh on the back when he saw him. "You old billy goat, I didn't think you were in on this one."

"What's not to be in on? I set up the whole thing. Actually I bring you goodies. Wait until it gets dark. Have I got a new toy for you guys."

"Is she pretty and is she willing?" Jaybird called.

"So Jaybird made the cut?" Stroh asked. "I thought he was on the trading block, going back to Second Platoon."

"They wouldn't take him," Gardner cracked.

"A new toy, like what?" Murdock asked.

"Get settled in your quarters and I'll show you. Probably right after chow. Hope you like this Saudi food."

"Dog stew?" Lam asked.

"Cat curry from what I hear, but it's tasty," Stroh said. "I'd stay and chat, but I'd miss the first seating at the officers' mess."

The quarters they were trucked to were about the same as what they were used to. A barracks is a barracks. Only single-story bunks here. They had chow at the enlisted mess and found they were eating a stew of some kind.

"h.e.l.l, eat up, you guys. This is pure beef stew," Luke Howard said and they all relaxed.

After chow and back in the barracks, Don Stroh came in with two small boxes.

"Jaybird, go down there to the far end of the room and wait. Just stand there, don't get wise."

When Jaybird was in place, Stroh took a device out of one of the boxes. It was about half the size of a football, had a handhold on it and a strange lens out the front. In back there was a viewing screen.

"Okay, Murdock, kill the lights." Stroh held up the device and aimed it at where Jaybird should be. Nothing showed on the screen. He moved the device back and forth then stopped. A weird white glowing figure showed on the black screen. "Jaybird, you're crouched down beside a box up there but I can see you. Bang bang, you're dead. Stand up, Jaybird, and walk across the back of the room there."

"What the h.e.l.l is that?" Fernandez asked.

"It's called a thermal imager. Aim it at a spot and it picks up the thermal signals from a body, or a large animal. They've been around for years, but now they made this small handheld one especially for firemen to use in burning buildings. I talked them out of four of them for you misfits. They have a special adapter so they can be mounted on most of your weapons. They'll fit easily on the Bull Pup. I want each of you to come up here and work this thing."

He handed it off, and one by one the SEALs and Kat checked Jaybird moving around. They told him exactly where he was and what he was doing.

"Ain't it about my time to see through that thing?" Jaybird called.

"Omar, go up and be the target," Murdock said. He had his turn with a second imager and followed the Saudi on the screen up the aisle between the bunks and then lost him. They found him crawling around a bunk.

When they turned the lights back on, the men were convinced.

"Oh, yeah, I like it," Vincent Van d.y.k.e said. "Much better than night vision goggles."

"Twenty times better," J.G. Gardner said. "We can nail guys creeping up on us. Blow them out of their socks. This is the best new weapon we've had since the Bull Pup. It could get us out of a terribly murderous situation."

"That thing sure bugged me when you were spotting me in the dark," Jaybird said. "I figured I was completely hidden then an arm or a foot would be enough to give me away."

"Bravo Squad gets two of them," Murdock said. "Alpha takes one and we'll take the other one to Baghdad. We'll keep it handheld so it will be easier to conceal. Then, too, we won't have any long guns with us."

"Murdock without a Bull Pup?" Jaybird asked. "Now, there is a first."

"Had to happen sometime," Murdock said. "We three leave first thing in the morning. Tomorrow night we should be in Baghdad. Any questions so far?"

"This is the weird place," Kat said. "n.o.body here knows that I'm not one of the guys. Can we keep it that way?"

"Aw, Kat, you just want to watch us undress when we hit the sack," Bradford said.

"I grew up with three older brothers. Unless you guys are not all that normal..." She stopped and the SEALs laughed. "Don't worry, I'll try not to embarra.s.s you. I will be in the far end of the barracks, however."

"Good idea," Murdock said. "In this country women must be covered head to toe at all times, they can't drive a car or work outside the home, and they can't be in public without a male member of their household. Fundamentalists rule here. Yes, keep your hat on and no makeup."

"h.e.l.l, she don't need none," a voice shouted. The SEALs cheered.

"For you new men, I don't know what you think. These old-timers are just mad because I can outrun and outswim all of them. They'll settle down after a while."

"You really win a full iron woman triathlon?" somebody asked.

"Three of them to be exact. But we won't be doing much biking or swimming on this one. Now, if any of you want to disable the bombs we're finding, I'll trade places with you."

"Hey, no way," Derek Prescott said.

"Teen hut!" somebody bellowed. The SEALs snapped to attention. Three U.S. Air Force officers walked into the barracks.

"At ease, men. Just a little visit. I'm Colonel Livingston. I'm your official host for your stay here. My staff of two and myself will do everything we can to take care of you. Whatever you need, talk to Major Wilbur or Master Sergeant Phillips. We'll work with the Saudis to let you do your conditioning. No live firing, so keep all ammo out of your weapons. When we know where you need to go along the Iraqi border, we'll get you up there, probably by truck, but maybe by Saudi choppers. Is Commander Murdock here?"

"Here, sir," Murdock said, snapping a salute. "Reporting for duty."

The colonel returned the salute, then shook hands. "Good to meet you, Murdock. You've got a tough one coming up. I almost wish I was going with you. I'm not exactly sure why you're going in there. They tell me I have no need to know. Good luck up there. You won't be here long. Your VC-11 is being serviced. You'll take off at oh-seven-hundred for a short hop to Kuwait, only two hundred seventy-five miles almost due north. Don't mess up the place-that's my current post."

"We'll be gentle," Ching said.

"Good. Now, about your jaunt to Baghdad. You'll be going in from Kuwait in a chopper. We'll use a version of the Black Hawk. The Navy has flown one in from a carrier. It's the Seahawk, the SH-60 you call it. You fly on the Iraqi deck all the way to the thirty-third parallel, which is the top of the Southern No-Fly Zone. We've had choppers in the area before so it shouldn't cause that much of a flap. We'll keep you covered all the way with a beefed-up group of fighters. If any Iraqi planes make any moves toward you, they will be taken out. We owe them a couple anyway.

"After we drop you, the chopper will take a southwestern course that will put it into Saudi Arabia along the border somewhere, and we will go in and find it. The bird can do six hundred ninety-one miles so the distance is not a factor. Speed might be. It can make only a hundred and seventy-eight miles an hour. So flying time into your drop point is roughly two hours. The planning team considered all factors and decided this was the best way to get you near the target. We have no practical fixed wing aircraft for you to bail out of near the thirty-third parallel. This particular bird is fitted with external gun and rocket pods and can give you some quick ground support if you need it. Any questions?"

"Two hours to get there?" Murdock asked. "Won't they have a lot of people there to greet us? How can we stay all the way under their radar?"

"We've done it before, Commander. It works. We went in almost to the same spot a year ago to pick up a downed pilot. Everyone returned safely to Kuwait."

The colonel looked at the other two SEALs. He continued. "Your take-along weapons must be highly concealable. You're not soldiers; you're just three men on their way to Baghdad in the dark. We will leave Kuwait at darkness minus ten. Which puts us into your drop zone at about twenty-one hundred. Then you'll have eight hours to get in or near Baghdad and the chance to contact the man you're going to see before daylight. We have his current address. Rafii will be your main man on this trip. He knows the territory."

"We haven't picked out weapons yet, Colonel," Murdock said.

Don Stroh spoke up. "I've talked with the colonel, Murdock. We suggest you go with handguns only. Even if you all had Ingrams and you were detected, you wouldn't be able to shoot your way out. Iraq is an armed camp. Almost every household has one or two weapons, mostly army rifles. Men and boys spend their vacations taking weapons training and learning house-to-house fighting techniques. This must be a stealth campaign. As silent as possible. But no silencers on your pistols. Much too heavy and too hard to conceal. We suggest two pistols. A hideout on your ankle and a larger weapon in your belt or the middle of your back."

Murdock looked at his two men. Both nodded. "We agree with you on the weapons. Don, anything more on the location of the devices?"

"Our communications link with our main man is down. Our only hope is that you can activate Mr. Jones."

"I'm not at all happy with our intel on this. It seems like we are learning less and less about our mission as we move along. What if Jones has been compromised or turns us in when we get there? You going to bring in a Marine battalion and blast us out of town?"

Don Stroh shook his head. "Actually, sir, we don't have the slightest idea who you are. You're certainly not U.S. citizens and no chance are you American military. Just three soldiers of fortune who happen to speak English. Could be South African, or English, or even Australian or Canadian."

"I guess I deserved that, Stroh. Thanks for the new toy. It could be a game breaker."

"Gentlemen, if that's all?" the colonel asked.

"We're up to speed, Colonel, thanks," Murdock said. "See you in the morning?"

"Oh, yes. I'll be riding along with you to help move things along in Kuwait. Lots of rank over there, but I'll have Don Stroh along with me to take care of any objections."

"Don gets all the cushy a.s.signments, Colonel Livingston. But I've got to warn you if he tries to talk you into going fishing, have a whole bunch of reasons not to go. He can really louse up a fishing trip."

"Oh, yeah, Murdock. Who caught the most edible fish on our last trip out of Seaforth in San Diego?"

"Three sand ba.s.s as I remember, about a pound and a half each. Who caught the most legal log barracuda?"

"Who eats barracuda?"

"Last trip out I went overnight and woke up to a hot albacore bite. We boated ninety-three albies, about forty yellowtail, and twenty skipjack. I caught one of each."

"Fish stories," Stroh said. "You have pictures, of course."

"Sorry, no camera."

Colonel Livingston frowned. "You two have known each other for some time?"

"Over five long years, Colonel," Stroh said. "He's trying to outlast me on the job."

"Murdock, you better be careful on this one or it could be your last mission," Colonel Livingston said. "The Iraqis are furious about something right now. Last reports there were anti-American demonstrations all over Baghdad."

The colonel and his staff turned toward the door.

"Teen hut!" Senior Chief Elmer Neal barked. The SEALs snapped to attention until the door closed.

"He had to tell us that," Ching said.

"h.e.l.l, won't bother Rafii none," Jaybird said. "Things get too hot he just drops his pistols, melts into an alley, and finds him a hot woman to shack up with."

Rafii snorted. "Commander, can we take Jaybird with us? We need a sacrificial goat to appease the Iraqis."

Murdock grinned. "Maybe later. Right now I'm getting into my bunk. I have an early call. Then it's off to Baghdad."

9.

Kuwait City, Kuwait Murdock looked out the front window of the closed van as it drove across the tarmac from one side of the big airport to the other. Security was tight around the field. Snipers had been shooting into the area, and Murdock had heard that the locals were busting their b.a.l.l.s trying to nail them down. The van pulled to a stop thirty feet from an SH-60 that sat there without its rotors turning.

Master Sergeant Phillips drove the van. He motioned to the chopper. "Thought you would want to meet the crew. Be ten hours or so before you take off."

"Good," Murdock said, and the three SEALs dressed as Arabs left the van and hurried over to the bird. The side door was open. An armed man jumped out of the chopper and challenged them.

"At ease," Murdock bellowed. "Commander Murdock and team. Want to get a look at your bird before we fly out tonight."

The man in suntan cammies relaxed and grinned. "Right, Commander, knew you were coming. Your costume threw me. You look d.a.m.n good."

"Hope we can fool the other guys," Ching said. They checked out the chopper. They had seen lots of SH-60s before. This one had mounts for door machine guns but none in place. A lieutenant came out of the cabin and stared at Murdock.

"Commander, you the same Murdock who used to throw beer around in San Diego?"

Murdock looked up. "Streib. I'll be d.a.m.ned. You finally got your wings. You used to b.i.t.c.h enough about getting to go to flight training. Looks like you're doing okay."

"I'm getting by. I'm on a six-month blue water, then it's back home to Seattle. Hey, let me tell you about rain."

"Been there," Murdock said. "Can this crate get us up to the thirtieth parallel without clipping any trees or mountains?"

"I hope to h.e.l.l we can. Went up that way once before. No real problems. Just so the d.a.m.n civilians will keep their rifles quiet."

"Pick up some ground fire?"

"Oh, yeah. They know that the Iraqi flyboys won't be down this far, so they whale away."

The van horn beeped.

"I think that's Mother calling," Murdock said. "We're due somewhere. See you about sunset."

Back in the van, Don Stroh frowned. "We hear about more demonstrations against the U.S. in all the big towns in Iraq. In that country that means women out there marching and firing off their rifles right alongside the men. Seems weird. Well, not much we can do about it. You get in, find Jones, and convince him to help you, then radio us where the cache is and we'll start converging on it."

"If you get to the bombs before we do, go right ahead and do the honors," Murdock said. "We could have some trouble moving in that direction."