Read Online Battleline (2007) by Jack - Seals 05 Terral - Free Book Online
Authors: Jack - Seals 05 Terral
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then it was back to the friendly environs of the ocean, lake, or river for exfiltration to naval vessels. But the latest demands of combat in the Middle East had changed all that. The introduction of war against terrorism meant that they now went ashore and stayed there for weeks, practicing their deadly trade far from beaches and seashores. Brannigan's Brigands could be numbered among the many SEALs who had gone so far as to employ desert patrol vehicles on missions in which they raced in and out of combat in the midst of gunfire and roaring motors.
Now, in that valley of the Gharawdara Highlands of Afghanistan, the Sneaky Petes moved slowly across the mountainous terrain, their feet as dry as if they were trodding over the sands of the Sahara.
.
0245 HOURS
MATTY Matsuno was on point as Connie Concord and Garth Redhawk followed him. They had stayed more or less on the eastern side of the valley while they made their wary southern trek toward the far reaches of their patrol area. Now they had worked their way into a north-northwest direction to reach the base of the slopes that led up to the enemy positions. Matty glanced back, as he did from time to time, to see how his companions were coming along. This time he saw Connie gesturing to him. He went back and joined the team leader and Garth.
Everyone slipped on their LASH headsets. Connie pointed upward. "That's where the bad guys live. We need to take a look and see if we can spot something interesting. Be sure and make a note of personnel and the strengths of their defenses. That's the main reason we're out here."
"I'll go," Garth volunteered.
"Okay," Connie agreed. "Matty needs a break after being on point for so long. We'll both follow you and keep about ten meters to the rear. We'll spread out a little so we can cover both the right and left flanks."
"I'm ready," Garth said.
He was of Kiowa-Comanche Indian ancestry, making him a mixture of two of the fiercest fighting tribes of the Southern Plains. He carried a traditional medicine bag for good luck and spiritual guidance. It was a rawhide sack of two by six inches in which he had placed his issue SEAL trident qualification badge, a piece of wood from a tree struck by lightning in his native Oklahoma, and a pebble taken from an enemy mortar position in the Selva Verde Mountains of South America. He had gone on a one-man combat patrol into enemy territory, sneaked into a mortar bivouac, and dropped thermite grenades down the tubes of the weapons to disable them. His instincts told him his medicine was strong at that particular spot in the world, and he had taken the pebble to carry some of that power with him when he exfiltrated safely from the area. This was the same highly classified operation in which the new Ensign Taylor's cousin Lamar had been KIA.
This scion of great warriors such as Lone Wolf, Medicine Feather, Wild Horse, and Hears-the-Sunrise wore the camouflage paint on his face in the lightning streak patterns of the Southern Plains tribes. And with the traditional warmaking skills of his people, Garth Redhawk moved in fluid silence up toward the enemy fighting positions.
.
0300 HOURS
ON the opposite end of no-man's-land, Dave Leibowitz had discovered a natural path that was some five meters below the ridge where the Zaheya were dug in. A section of the cliff had given way under a primeval earthquake of long past aeons, leaving a narrow ledge just wide enough to walk on. The cloudy night allowed no moonlight to illuminate the shadows that hid the place where the Odd Couple trod softly in a southerly direction.
Dave moved no more than ten paces before stopping to look upward. Mike kept his attention on his best buddy, making occasional glances behind to make sure no Zaheya soldiers were following them along the protrusion. After ten minutes had passed, Dave stopped and signaled Mike forward. Both donned their LASH sets. "Look up there," Dave said. "That rock formation has some good foot-and
Now, in that valley of the Gharawdara Highlands of Afghanistan, the Sneaky Petes moved slowly across the mountainous terrain, their feet as dry as if they were trodding over the sands of the Sahara.
.
0245 HOURS
MATTY Matsuno was on point as Connie Concord and Garth Redhawk followed him. They had stayed more or less on the eastern side of the valley while they made their wary southern trek toward the far reaches of their patrol area. Now they had worked their way into a north-northwest direction to reach the base of the slopes that led up to the enemy positions. Matty glanced back, as he did from time to time, to see how his companions were coming along. This time he saw Connie gesturing to him. He went back and joined the team leader and Garth.
Everyone slipped on their LASH headsets. Connie pointed upward. "That's where the bad guys live. We need to take a look and see if we can spot something interesting. Be sure and make a note of personnel and the strengths of their defenses. That's the main reason we're out here."
"I'll go," Garth volunteered.
"Okay," Connie agreed. "Matty needs a break after being on point for so long. We'll both follow you and keep about ten meters to the rear. We'll spread out a little so we can cover both the right and left flanks."
"I'm ready," Garth said.
He was of Kiowa-Comanche Indian ancestry, making him a mixture of two of the fiercest fighting tribes of the Southern Plains. He carried a traditional medicine bag for good luck and spiritual guidance. It was a rawhide sack of two by six inches in which he had placed his issue SEAL trident qualification badge, a piece of wood from a tree struck by lightning in his native Oklahoma, and a pebble taken from an enemy mortar position in the Selva Verde Mountains of South America. He had gone on a one-man combat patrol into enemy territory, sneaked into a mortar bivouac, and dropped thermite grenades down the tubes of the weapons to disable them. His instincts told him his medicine was strong at that particular spot in the world, and he had taken the pebble to carry some of that power with him when he exfiltrated safely from the area. This was the same highly classified operation in which the new Ensign Taylor's cousin Lamar had been KIA.
This scion of great warriors such as Lone Wolf, Medicine Feather, Wild Horse, and Hears-the-Sunrise wore the camouflage paint on his face in the lightning streak patterns of the Southern Plains tribes. And with the traditional warmaking skills of his people, Garth Redhawk moved in fluid silence up toward the enemy fighting positions.
.
0300 HOURS
ON the opposite end of no-man's-land, Dave Leibowitz had discovered a natural path that was some five meters below the ridge where the Zaheya were dug in. A section of the cliff had given way under a primeval earthquake of long past aeons, leaving a narrow ledge just wide enough to walk on. The cloudy night allowed no moonlight to illuminate the shadows that hid the place where the Odd Couple trod softly in a southerly direction.
Dave moved no more than ten paces before stopping to look upward. Mike kept his attention on his best buddy, making occasional glances behind to make sure no Zaheya soldiers were following them along the protrusion. After ten minutes had passed, Dave stopped and signaled Mike forward. Both donned their LASH sets. "Look up there," Dave said. "That rock formation has some good foot-and
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