The Case Officer (3 page)

“Gunny, it’ll be dark in a couple
of hours, so we don’t have much time to spare. Pass out rifles and ammo and
chow and whatever else you have in this armory of yours, and get your men
deployed up on the roof of the chancery building. Set up your SAWS on the south
side. Button down this building and prepare for the worst. Assign one Marine
with a radio to stick with the ambassador, but get everyone else up on the roof
and be prepared to stay there for the duration.”

He turned to the troops. “But hang
on… Before you’re dismissed, I’ve got one more thing. I’m going out there to
recon the area. We need to get a better idea of where they are and what they’re
planning for us tonight. I’m going to scout things out a bit. So keep your eyes
and ears open and don’t fucking shoot me.”

 Sergeant Gillis spoke up. “I’d
better go with you, sir. I’ve got some pretty good experience on recon patrols,
and you’ll need someone to watch your back...”

“Thanks, Sergeant, but this is
something I’ve got to do on my own. Our orders are to stay put, and I’m not
going to ask anyone else to disobey those orders. Now, all of you, move out.”

Chapter Five

M
acMurphy sat at the cleaning
table, working the bolt of an M-16, when Gunny Bradshaw returned.

“The men are in position on the
roof, sir. All but Corporal Kelley, that is. He’s with the ambassador, like you
ordered. He’s got direct comm with me, so we can keep track of what’s going on.
And I’ve got two more of these little walkie-talkie things left, one for you
and one for Staff Sergeant Gillis, who’s on the roof. They’re really
trick—encrypted, and they channel-hop in sequence. Almost impossible to
intercept—unless you’re NSA, that is…and those ignorant fuckers out there ain’t
even close. Got’em compliments of Spinelli. He’s got a lot of neat CIA shit in
that tech office of his.” He handed one of the devices to MacMurphy.

“Thanks, Gunny,” MacMurphy said,
examining the device. It was about the size of a pack of cigarettes, with a
tiny earpiece and lapel microphone attached to two thin wires.

“You put the earpiece in and pin
the mic to your lapel,” said Bradshaw, demonstrating. “You can whisper and
still come in loud and clear. We’ll have good comm.”

MacMurphy slipped the device into
his pocket, attached the mic to his lapel, and fitted the earpiece in his ear.

Bradshaw continued. “Don’t have
to do nothin’ but talk when you feel like it, and we’ll all get the message.
Your call sign is Easy Two. I’m Easy One, Gillis is Easy Three and Kelley is
Easy Four.” The gunny demonstrated by calling Gillis, Corporal Kelley, and
MacMurphy in turn.

“Got any more tricks up your
sleeve, Gunny?”

“Sure do, Captain, sure do…”

He walked to a closet in the back
of the room and opened the padlocked door with a key attached to a large ring
of keys on his belt. He extracted a rifle and some boxed gear and laid them all
out on the cleaning table. “You can put that M-16 aside, Captain. I got
somethin’ far better right here. You ain’t goin’ to be able to use that noisy
sonofabitch out there with all them skinnies all over the fuckin’ place.”

“I’ve just got to make sure they
don’t see me. I don’t want to get into a pissing contest with Aideed’s militia.
That’s for sure.”

“First of all, I’ve got some eyes
for you here.” Bradshaw pulled a pair of what looked like binoculars from one
of the boxes. “It’s going to be dark out there tonight. Not much moon left, and
there’s cloud cover, too. These night-vision goggles fit over your helmet like
this, and then you just flip them up and down as you need them.”

“I’m familiar with them, Gunny. Night
vision will be a big help. What else?”

“Well, being that you used to
command a sniper platoon, I know you’re familiar with the M40A1 Sniper Rifle.”
He handed the sleek, bolt-action rifle to the captain. “I picked this one up
during my last job at the armory at Camp Pendleton and made a few minor
adjustments to improve its accuracy and allow for a suppressor and night vision
scope. Doesn’t have the firepower of an M-16—only holds four in the mag and one
in the chamber—but you won’t be needin’ a hell of a lot of firepower tonight.”

“Good work, Gunny.” MacMurphy
hefted the familiar weapon, brought it to his shoulder, and sighted along the
barrel, getting the feel of it. In his mind’s eye he saw the opposing troops
stealthily advancing, felt himself pulling the trigger….

“The rifle has a heavy barrel –
whole thing weighs fourteen and a half pounds, but you can shoot the eye out of
a skinnie at 400 meters. That’s even with the night vision scope and
suppressor. Actually, this suppressor will improve the ballistics of the rifle.”
The gunny was clearly proud of his creation. “It’ll also increase the accuracy
of the shooter by reducing flash, noise, and recoil. It’s called the
Thundertrap. We Marines don’t have too many of them, but the Army Delta guys
and the Navy Seals use them all the time over in the sandbox for their
counter-terrorism shit.”

He gently removed the 8.5
inch-long, 1.6 inch-diameter, black stainless steel tube from its cushioned
case and laid it lovingly in front of the captain.

“How the hell did you get hold of
this?” MacMurphy hefted the artful device, gently fitted it to the muzzle of
the rifle and screwed it into place.

“Told you. I was at the armory at
Pendleton. I worked on this one myself and wasn’t about to leave it behind for
some grunt to abuse. It’s a work of art.”

When the Thundertrap suppressor
was attached, the gunny reached for the rifle. “Wait till you see this, Captain.”
He opened another box, carefully removed a rifle scope, and snapped it onto the
barrel of the rifle. “It’s an AN/PVS-4 individual weapon night sight. It’s a
little heavy, adds about four pounds to the rifle, and a bit bulky, but it’s
also a thing of beauty. It’s got a magnification of 3.6 power. Range with
starlight is about 400 meters, but with moonlight it can reach out to 600
meters or more.”

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t
you, Gunny? I’m familiar with the rifle. We had them in my scout sniper team,
but I’ve never used one with a suppressor and night vision scope.” He hefted
the rifle and brought it up to his shoulder, enjoying the feel of it against
his shoulder and in his hands. “You’re right—it’s a heavy sucker with all this
stuff attached, but still feeks balanced and stable. It feels good. A Marine
could do some real damage with this weapon.”

“Sure could, and unless you’re
standing behind the shooter, you can’t hear squat. They’ll never know what
hit’em. But you still got to be careful. If anyone gets behind you or a little
off to either side of your rear, they’ll hear a kind of low-pitched wail or
scream when the bullet leaves the muzzle and a snap when it breaks the sound
barrier. So don’t let anyone get behind you.

“Now, your route… Since we think
the main body of Aideed’s troops are located near the south and southwest side
of the compound, around the International Golf and Tennis Club to the south and
the University to the west, I’d suggest you go out from the northeast and circle
around in a clockwise direction, taking out any sentries as you go.”

“Kind of like Sergeant York,
right? Pick ’em off from the rear to the front.” MacMurphy smiled.

“Exactly. That’s the way to do
it. Just don’t let anyone get behind you.”

“By the way, you got any high-speed
ammo for this thing?” MacMurphy was sure the answer would be affirmative. He also
knew the Gunny would want to tell him.

“Nothing but the best, sir. I got
about a thousand rounds of M118, 7.62 NATO Match ammo. That round has a 168 grain
Sierra Match bullet. It comes out of the barrel at around 2600 feet per second.
That should give you enough wallop to snuff all of the skinny little
motherfuckers you want, if you have a mind to do so.”

“Okay, let’s gather up this gear
and get started. It’ll be dark in less than an hour, and I want to leave about
a half hour after that.”

“One more thing,” Bradshaw put a
hand on the Captain’s arm. “I want you to wear this.” He picked up a flak vest
with metal kevlar inserts that fit over the chest and back. “You’re familiar
with this. I know it’s heavy—it’ll add another ten pounds to your load—but
you’re not going to be moving very fast out there anyway. And it’ll stop most
rifle rounds.”

MacMurphy hefted the bulky
jacket. “Yeah, it’s a load, all right. You really think I’ll need this?”

“Up to you, Captain, but I’d wear
it. You don’t need to be fast, but you’ll be glad you had it on if you get
spotted and start taking fire out there. Our Marine Force Recon guys use’em,
for close quarters combat. I think it’s something you should have in this
situation as well.”

“Okay, what the hell.” MacMurphy
hung the jacket over a chair and busied himself with assembling his gear and
unloading boxes of ammunition.

“Can’t I go with you, sir?”
Bradshaw pleaded. “Gillis was right. You could sure use someone out there to
watch your back.”

“No, you stay here with the men,
Gunny. They’ll need your steady hand. Try to keep an eye on me from the roof as
best you can. Like I said, no one else will be disobeying any orders tonight. Except…just
in case you need to hear it from me, you
will
return fire if fired upon.
Those are
my
orders.  Is that understood?”

“Understood, Captain. Understood.”

Chapter Six

T
wo hours later, Gunny Bradshaw
cracked open one of the small doors on the northeast side of the compound
wall—away from the heart of the city and running along Afgoy Road—and Captain Harry
MacMurphy stepped out into the night.

But the night wasn’t dark for
him; only for Aideed’s ragtag band of militia.

He stayed close to the shadows of
the compound wall, crouched, rifle at port arms, moving slowly eastward in the
darkness, until he reached the northeast corner of the compound. He turned
south along the eastern wall, toward the city center, which spread out along
the coast. He crossed the road ringing the compound and followed a drainage
ditch that paralleled the road. Deep in the shadows, he headed closer to the
city and where he thought Aideed’s men would be.

He moved stealthily, every hair
on his body alert for the presence of the enemy. He whispered his location in
his lapel mic and heard the comforting response from Gunny Bradshaw in his ear.

“Got you in sight, Captain. Watch
out ahead, there’s movement in those buildings about two hundred meters east of
the compound.”

MacMurphy scanned the row of
buildings but could see no movement. A few moments later, there was a flash of
light in his night vision goggles. He dropped to one knee, flipped up the
goggles, and brought the rifle to his shoulder. Through the rifle scope he
could clearly see two men standing in a doorway with AK-47s slung upside-down
on their shoulders. One was lighting a cigarette with a match. The other was
waiting for his turn at the match, cigarette dangling from his lips. 

Three on a match
, he thought, placing the
crosshairs on the mouth holding the dangling cigarette,
but in your case,
it’s two.
The round struck the smoker on his left cheek, knocking him back
into the doorway and blowing off the side of his head.

He quickly chambered another
round, adjusted the crosshairs just left of the suddenly wide eyes of the other
man, and squeezed off another round, hitting the terrified soldier in the nose
and sending him sprawling in the doorway on top of his comrade.
Smoking can
definitely be bad for your health,
he thought.

He chambered another round, put
the rifle on safe, calmly adjusted his sights one click to the left, and
flipped his night vision goggles back down over his eyes.

“Easy One, this is Easy Two,
over?”

“Roger, Easy Two. Nice shooting.
How’s your situation?”

“Rifle shoots a little right but
I fixed it. It’s good now. Two skinnies down. Still quiet out here at the
moment. Main force must be hanging back, but they’ve stationed sentries
forward. Two I just took out were about 200 meters down from the northeast
corner of the compound, where you saw the movement. This is a great weapon…
Over.”

“Good work, Easy Two. We’ll keep
an eye on you as best we can. If you’re able to take out some more of their
sentries you might force them to reevaluate any attack plans they may have for
tonight. Over.”

“Roger, Easy One. That’s the
plan. I’ll follow this drainage ditch for as far as I can. I’ve got good cover
here in the tree line. Let me know if you see anything else, and try to keep me
in sight…and make sure you’ve got someone posted at the closest doors, just in
case I have to make a run for it. Over.”

“Roger that, Easy Two. We’ll keep
the campfires burning. Easy One out.”

MacMurphy moved in a crouch,
rifle at port arms, south along the east wall of the compound toward the
distant lights of Mogadishu. His senses were keen, hearing the rustle of the
leaves in the breeze and listening for signs of movement just as he had done
when he was deer hunting in upstate New York with his father.