Combat Alley (2007) (11 page)

Brannigan yelled out, All hands! Now hear this! Grab your gear and saddle up! He glanced at Dawkins. Senior Chief, you and Gomez stay here and mind the fort.

Now Wallenger trotted up with Eddie at his heels. What's going on, Bill?

It sounds newsworthy, Brannigan answered. A local village has been wiped out by somebody. Since you're imbedded with us, I can see no reason you can't go along.

Mmm, Wallenger said thoughtfully. That's an interesting development. Who do you think the perpetrators are?

Chinar answered, I think it would be other Pashtuns. Perhaps a feud has broken out.

It must have been pretty serious if it deteriorated to genocide, Brannigan remarked.

Indeed, sir! Chinar said. It could be that a woman in somebody's family was treated with disrespect.

And for that a whole village would be wiped out? Brannigan asked.

Indeed, sir! China repeated.

In ten minutes the detachment was mounted, armed, and ready. Brannigan pulled a John Wayne, personally leading his troops on a gallop across the steppes with the faithful Chinar at his side.

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THE SWATI VILLAGE

1130 HOURS

THE Second Assault Section under Ensign Orlando Taylor had been detailed to clear the village. The rest of the detachment formed a loose defensive perimeter around the area while the hamlet was checked out.

Dirk Wallenger, with his powerful binoculars to his eyes, surveyed what he could. There are obviously a lot of bodies sprawled around, he remarked to Eddie Krafton, who had his camera on his shoulder. But it's difficult to determine how many.

We'll find out soon enough, Eddie said.

Taylor and Connie Concord appeared at the community's edge, trotting toward Brannigan and Cruiser. The ensign's face was twisted into a grimace. Everybody is dead, sir, he reported. There're even little dead babies in there.

Alright, Orlando, Brannigan said. He turned to the rest of the detachment. Okay! Let's move in by fire teams and check the place out. Be prepared! It's not a pretty sight.

Doc Bradley literally ran into the place ahead of the others to begin a desperate search for wounded that might need medical aid. The rest of the Brigands walked slower, going between the buildings where corpses were sprawled in the violence of their death. It was obvious that most had been riddled with bullets after falling to the ground, since no human could have taken so many hits before collapsing.

The interiors of the homes were like slaughter pens. This was where the majority of the dead children lay huddled in death as they cringed in the midst of the horror blasting down on them. Some cribs had been kicked over and there was evidence that a couple of the infants had been stomped to death.

Puglisi noticed a pile of cartridge cases, surmising that several of the shooters must have stood in a group firing at targets of opportunity who were no doubt running for their lives. He knelt down and picked up some of the brass. Skipper! he called out.

Brannigan walked over. Find something interesting?

Maybe, sir, Puglisi said, standing up. There's two kinds of cases here. Seven-point-six-two and five-point-four-five. The first group is prob'ly AK-47s. Them kind of weapons are pretty numerous around here since the Russkis invaded this place back in the eighties. That's where the locals got most of 'em from. But I'll bet a year's paydays that these smaller ones are from AK-74s. The Russkis started making 'em when they felt the larger calibers was turning obsolete. It was an answer to our five-point-fifty-six. I'll bet you anything these are AK-74-Ms, the latest models in that line. They got short-barrel versions too.

It looks like the tribes are modernizing, Puglisi, Brannigan said, examining some of the evidence.

I don't think so, sir, Puglisi said. I bet there's some goddamn Russkis around here someplace.

The remark set Brannigan to thinking. Puglisi was verbose, unpredictable, and impetuous, but behind that bluster was an analytical mind. Stupid blowhards don't make it through BUD/S, and the Italian-American was a prime example of the best of the best. Puglisi had an innate talent to figure things out. When he was confused or wondering about something, all his impulsiveness melted away and he fell into methodical thinking. And Brannigan could not recall his ever being wrong.

Lieutenant Cruiser! Brannigan bellowed.

Cruiser appeared from between a couple of hutches and reported in. Yes, sir?

Your Bravo Fire Team are the best recon guys, right?

Yes, sir, Cruiser replied. That's Sturgis, Malachenko, Matsuno, and Redhawk.

I have a mission for 'em, Brannigan said. I want 'em to check out the area for any tracks left by the attackers. Then follow the bastards as far as possible. Right to their fucking hometown, if they have to.

Aye, sir! Cruiser said. He turned and hurried back to his section.

Doc Bradley walked up to the Skipper, sadly shaking his head. No survivors, sir. And I counted twenty-one bodies with multiple wounds, including headshots at close range. To me that means they were among the wounded finished off while still alive.

God! Brannigan exclaimed. This just keeps getting worse.

Dirk Wallenger and Eddie Krafton walked amidst the carnage, recording the scenes to be sent back to the States. Although they had seen violent deaths before as news reporters, what they witnessed at that moment shocked them into somber silence as they worked.

Suddenly Pete Dawson shouted from a rooftop. Hey! There's a kid up here and he's alive!

Doc Bradley rushed over to the mud house and made his way up to the ladder leading to the roof. When he arrived, he found Dawson kneeling beside a frightened boy, obviously in shock. There was a raw, bleeding wound that went around his neck and throat. He allowed himself to be helped to his feet and guided to the roof edge. Bradley got onto the ladder, and Dawson helped the boy over the side so the hospital corpsman could carry him down to the ground.

Several of the Brigands came over to help, and they laid the kid down on a blanket brought from a house. What's the matter with him? Tiny Burke asked.

Doc looked up, answering, The little guy's been garroted. He's lucky to have survived.

Gutsy Olson looked up with a sad expression. Wait'll he finds out what happened to his family.

DIRK Wallenger and Eddie Krafton had finished taping the scenes of carnage in the village after methodically covering the entire area. All that would be interspersed and spliced into Wallenger's narrative. Now it was time for the spiel, and Eddie had his camera rolling as the Skipper stood off to one side waiting to be interviewed.

This is Dirk Wallenger somewhere in Afghanistan. The view behind me is a stark testimony to the inhumanity of mindless war. The bodies of dozens of men, women, children, and the elderly are sprawled in and around the simple mud dwellings that once housed the entire population of a Pashtun village. The United States Navy SEAL Detachment with which I am imbedded was informed of this atrocity earlier this morning by donkey herdsmen from another village. It was they who discovered their slaughtered clansmen in this scene of utter horror. The Americans responded quickly, rushing here in the hopes of saving lives, but there was only one survivor. This was a frightened young boy who had huddled in horror on the roof of his house while terrorists roamed through this once peaceful hamlet, systematically killing everyone they saw. Lieutenant William Brannigan known as 'Wild Bill' to his men is here with me.

Brannigan walked into view and stood with his arms folded across his chest, his M16 slung over his right shoulder. He nodded to Wallenger. Hello, Dirk.

Hello, Lieutenant Brannigan, Dirk said. Do you have any idea who committed this unspeakable crime?

At this point we don't have a clue, Brannigan responded. The native peoples in this area are known for blood feuds, but my local advisor and translator has now ruled this out. He is a Pashtun and has made inquiries and was told that this particular tribe had been getting along fine with the others lately, and although they have a history of participating in intertribal conflicts, this doesn't seem to add up as one.

What about the Taliban? Wallenger asked. Could this be the work of religious fanatics?

That is a very real possibility, Brannigan said. They've been kicking up their heels lately and have made trouble in other parts of Afghanistan. It is possible that they passed through here with the idea of setting an example.

What actions will you take in regards to this incident, Lieutenant?

I'll transmit a report to our operational base, of course, and send out patrols to see if some meaningful information might be dug up.

You seem determined to take revenge against the murderers, Wallenger stated. Is this assumption on my part valid?

Let me say this, Brannigan replied. If I am ordered to hunt down and attack the murderers, I will do so with a great deal of enthusiasm. And that goes for my men too.

Thank you for the input, Lieutenant Brannigan, Wallenger said. We'll look forward to talking with you again. He began walking away, leaving Brannigan out of camera range as he spoke to his unseen audience. You may depend on being kept fully informed of this situation, ladies and gentlemen. And may I say that at this particular moment I am of the opinion that it is an absolute necessity that coalition troops maintain their presence here somewhere.

.

1645 HOURS

MONTY Sturgis rode at the head of Bravo Fire Team as they approached the Swati village after four and a half hours of following the trail of the murderers. They found Brannigan with Jim Cruiser, Orlando Taylor, and the other SEALs watching a group of Janoon Pashtuns hard at work burying the dead. Chinar had gone to his home village to bring back men to inter the corpses, since Islam decrees that the dead should be buried as soon as possible after death. Certain other preparations, such as washing the bodies with soap and water, then binding them in white cloths, were required. But under the present circumstances this was not possible. The best that could be done for them was to make sure the corpses faced Mecca. The men working with the shovels also called out the first part of the shahuda, There is no God but God! as they shoveled the dirt over the dead.

Sturgis and the rest of the Bravos led their horses to the officers. The team leader saluted. Sir, we found some boot tracks a few meters out and they led to where some horses had been kept. That was where they the attack started from. The killers mounted up at that spot to return to wherever it was they came from. It was hard to tell the exact number of 'em but it was at least a hunnerd and prob'ly a lot more'n that. We followed the trail toward the Kangal Mountains and determined they split into two groups. One headed southwest and the other left the Pranistay Steppes to head up into the high country. They had to be going to Tajikistan. No doubt of that.

Okay, Brannigan said. It looks like we've done all we can here. He turned to the others. Alright! Mount up! We'll head back to the bivouac and leave these Pashtuns to finish taking care of the dead.