Combat Alley (2007) (21 page)

Satisfied that he had discovered an excellent escape route, Andy turned the horse and headed back up the mountain.

.

STATION BRAVO, BAHRAIN

STATION HOSPITAL

1415 HOURS

CHAD Murchison's eyes fluttered open, then closed, and he sank back to sleep as he had done a half dozen times in the previous few hours. His slumber was shallower this time, and within another twenty minutes he had come awake enough to stay that way. As his consciousness cleared, he looked around as best he could by turning his head on the pillow. He was in a bed in a long line of other beds in which men displaying various types of bandages were resting, reading, or listening to music through earphones. Chad looked the other way and noticed a couple of intravenous drips leading from bottles down to his arms. The needles were covered by gauze and tape.

How are you?

The feminine voice startled him and Chad turned his face back the other way to see a pleasant young woman in nurse's garb standing by the bed. He nodded to her, and had to take a breath before he could speak. I am fine. Thank you.

You woke up at an opportune time, the nurse said. The doctor is making his afternoon rounds and is about three beds away. She straightened the sheets over the patient. Is there anything I can get you?

No, thank you, Chad replied. Now he wondered where the hell he was. What is this place?

You're in the hospital at Station Bravo, the nurse said. You came in here last night and went straight to the operating room.

Well He started to speak, then fell back into silence as he began to remember the ambush and the battle that followed. I was wounded, was I not?

Oh, yes, indeed, the nurse replied. You were most certainly wounded.

Now an army officer with a stethoscope around his neck stepped into view. Hello, Petty Officer Murchison. How're you doing?

To tell you the truth I am in somewhat of an addled state, Chad replied. I cannot tell you if my physical condition is good or bad.

The doctor smiled. You'll have to rely on me for that. I operated on you last evening. While I was patching you up, I did some exploring around and noticed that your bladder and a kidney had been nicked by either a bullet or shrapnel.

It had to be a bullet, Chad said. There were no heavy weapons involved in the battle.

Well, whatever it was, those injuries call for a urologist, the doctor said. We're going to ship you to Germany for the proper treatment. After that you'll be headed stateside. Your other wounds are going to heal fine and I'm certain there'll be no serious problems with your urinary parts. Sending you to Germany is a purely routine matter. No need for alarm. He patted the SEAL on the shoulder. You just relax and concentrate on getting better. I'll take one more look at you before they bundle you off tomorrow morning for the flight to Europe.

Thank you, sir, Chad said.

The doctor started to walk over to the next bed, but he turned back. By the way, I took out your appendix while I was in there. It was real handy, so I snipped it.

Chad grinned. Thanks. I really do not require the organ, do I?

Not if what they told me in medical school is true, the doctor replied with a grin.

I'll be back to see you later, the nurse said.

Chad suddenly felt very tired.

.

1615 HOURS

A female medical yeoman walked up to Chad's bed. She was a plump redhead with a lot of paperwork under her arm, and she gave the SEAL a wide smile. Hello. I came by to talk about where you want to go from Germany. I take it you've been informed about that.

Yes, Chad said. The doctor apprised me of the situation.

She set her folders down and fished his file out of the pile. Let's see. Your hometown is Boston, so I take it you'll want to go to a medical facility in that area.

No, Chad said. I would rather go to Balboa Naval Hospital in San Diego.

Really? she remarked. Most guys want to go to their hometowns to be close to their families and friends.

Not me. San Diego will be just fine.

Listen, sailor, she said, are you sure you aren't groggy from your operation? Once I do the paperwork it can't be changed.

United States Naval Hospital, San Diego, California, if you please, Chad said.

She shrugged. Okay, sailor.

.

LOGOVISHCHYEH

YARKOV'S HOUSE

10 NOVEMBER

0845 HOURS

THE two Tajik bandits were plainly upset, and their usual fear of the Russian gangster chief had been smothered by their bad mood. Akali and Buxari refused an offer to sit down, though they did each take a mug of hot, strong coffee that Gabina had brewed. The little gay interpreter Gulyar was nervous, since he was well aware that the Russian was not the type to take a lot of disrespectful complaining and finger-pointing, particularly from a couple of hill bandits.

You told us there were only five Americans! Akali said through Gulyar's translation. So I took no more than twelve of my best and bravest fighters with me.

Buxari interjected, That would have been more than enough to fight a successful battle against only five.

But there were ten times that! Akali exclaimed. Fifty Americans charged us on horseback. We would have fled, but honor bade us stand and do our best to defend ourselves against such overwhelming odds. We fought a long battle before all my men lay dead and riddled by bullets at our feet.

Yarkov nodded as he listened to Gulyar change the Tajik to Russian. He knew the two bandits had never been in any fight in which they didn't have the advantage in numbers and position, and they would not have attacked so large a force of heavily armed Americans. He figured that they blundered into a small group that was quickly reinforced by a larger. And he also would bet there were no more than ten to twenty Americans involved.

Now Buxari joined in again. We shot up all our ammunition.

Yes! Akali exclaimed. I demand a payment for the loss of my men and ten thousand bullets.

Mmm, Yarkov mused. I am curious as to how you two got away.

How? Akali said. I will tell you how. Buxari and I fought like tigers and they finally fled from us, leaving us in the carnage of that awful battlefield.

Allah had mercy on us, Buxari added. And there were helicopters too.

Yes! Akali cried. What were we to do? We have no Stingers like the Pashtuns had when they fought you Russians and your Hinds. Rockets and bombs exploded all around us.

Were there tanks? Yarkov asked, trying hard not to burst out laughing.

I believe I saw one, maybe two, Buxari said, as the story grew wilder.

I think there were three, Akali said. The situation was impossible. We are lucky to be here.

Yarkov was tempted to run the two liars off, but he needed the bandits from time to time during his operations. If he got rough with them, they would gather up their women and children and flee to the highest ranges of the Kangal Mountains. It would take an army to dig them out, and they would stay there until they all either starved or eventually wandered off to more hospitable climes where there were good hunting and robbing opportunities.

I will give you another thousand somonis, Yarkov said. And five hundred bullets.

Akali spoke angrily. That is not enough!

Yarkov knew the two would keep all that for themselves without giving a thing to the families of the dead men. I have just told you what I am going to pay in compensation for your troubles. So take it and go. He snapped his finger at Gabina. Fetch Surov!

.

THE BARRACKS

1030 HOURS

ANDY Malachenko was lying on his bunk reading a year-old Russian weightlifting magazine when a slight disturbance at the other end of the barracks interrupted him. He sat up and noticed that Igor Tchaikurov was talking loudly. Since everyone seemed interested, Andy dropped the magazine and went down to see what was going on.

The former Spetsnaz man was laughing. ... And those two idiots Akali and Buxari spun this tale of almost singlehandedly fighting off hundreds of American soldiers. Luka Ivanovich told me they said there were even helicopters and tanks, and all their men were killed until only those two were left standing. But finally they scared off the Yanks by their ferocious two-man counterattack and they managed to escape before enemy reinforcements arrived.

As Tchaikurov continued his own version of the wild story the two Tajik bandits had told Yarkov, it became obvious that a few Americans had won a decisive victory over the bandits. Andy wondered if those attackers had been Brannigan's Brigands.

Luka Ivanovich gave them some more money and ammunition to placate the lying bastards, Tchaikurov said. But he is worried that the Americans have come into the area to make sure there are no poppy harvests next spring and summer.

One of the gangsters complained, That would be a disaster for us. It is the only thing that is going to allow us to continue our lives here.

Do not fret, Tchaikurov said. The boss is going to contact Akloschenko in Khorugh. He can make arrangements to get us reinforced with some tough guys from Moscow. He looked over at Andy. Hey, Mikhail Andreovich. There might be some of your old pals in that bunch, huh?

I would not doubt it, Andy replied.

And do not forget the Tajik Army, another Russian added. There are some big shots in the government that want their piece of that opium pie, hey? They will send at least a couple of rifle companies to reinforce us.

Of course, Tchaikurov said. And that might include real tanks and helicopters instead of those dreamed up by bandits.

Now Andy had some intelligence to pass on. If a formidable force roared out of the Kangal Mountains down onto the Pranistay Steppes, the detachment would be cut off, then slaughtered. The only way that could be prevented was to make sure reinforcements were brought in from Coalition troops before the attack.

Andy would give himself a few more days of observation, then make his break and return to the SEALs.

.

SEALs BIVOUAC

1400 HOURS

WHEN Frank Gomez got on the Shadowfire radio to call in the medevac for Chad Murchison, Dirk Wallenger asked him to raise Lieutenant Bill Brannigan on the LASH and see if it was alright if he and Eddie Krafton returned to the battlesite with him. With everything down to a dull roar, Brannigan gave his acquiescence, and the two journalists saddled their horses and rode back with the RTO. When they arrived, the duo did a thoroughly comprehensive taping of the scene.

Now, back in the bivouac, they were ready for Wallenger to do his voice-overs for the tapes that Eddie had recorded. Wallenger did his countdown, then launched into his spiel. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, this is Dirk Wallenger continuing my series 'Somewhere in Afghanistan.' A little more than twenty-four hours ago, a patrol from the SEAL detachment known as Brannigan's Brigands was ambushed by insurgents in the outlying areas of the Pranistay Steppes in northeastern Afghanistan. Although outnumbered, the patrol leader managed to pull his men back to a defensive area and put up a fierce resistance after calling for reinforcements. Lieutenant Wild Bill Brannigan immediately mustered his hardy SEALs and literally galloped to the rescue. Wallenger paused. Okay, Eddie, cut. This will do for the lead in.

Right, Eddie said. How about the scene of the battle with the dead lying all over the place?

Okay, Wallenger said. He referred to his notes, then continued. Five... Four... three... Two... You see here the scattered bodies of twelve dead insurgents who had attacked the SEAL patrol. An inspection of the corpses revealed these were not Taliban mujahideen, but Tajik bandits who have a history that includes decades of raiding into Afghanistan, murdering and pillaging the small outlying villages. When they decided to take on a patrol of tough U. S. Navy SEALs, they made a bad mistake. Two of the number managed to escape, fleeing before the battle was terminated. There was only one casualty on the American side, and that was a wounded man who was flown out for medical treatment. I am most happy to report that he is expected to make a full recovery from his combat injury. We are not allowed to reveal his name pending notification of next of kin. I can tell you, however, that he was one of the original members of this detachment that was activated as a platoon. Of the sixteen men who made up the new unit, I am sorry to have to tell you that three have been killed in action. There have been other losses, but those numbers have not been made available to me. This is a brief report because the battle fought here was also brief in spite of a dozen deaths and a wounded man. Many of the clashes all over Afghanistan are quick, bloody affairs that do little to advance the overall strategic design of the military commanders. It is these unexpected happenstances that make it so dangerous for our armed forces in this portion of the war on terrorism. This is Dirk Wallenger, somewhere in Afghanistan, wishing you peace in a world gone mad. He dropped his microphone to his side. Cut, Eddie.