Read Online Bishop's War (Bishop Series Book 1) by Rafael Hines - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rafael Hines
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quickly ran up the mountainside while Tariq shouted orders to his men.
Each of the three Humvees held four men, except for the lead with Major Burke which carried three. One member of their team, Sergeant John Bishop, had just left the service and rotated back to the States. They were still temporarily a man short.
Burke had been in the Army for seventeen years, all of them in Special Forces. He trained and worked side by side with his men. He trusted them because he knew they were the best. He trusted them because they’d all shed their blood together in battle. His guys were smart, self-motivated, highly skilled warriors, and he loved them all like the sons he never had.
Burke spoke into his mic: “Eyes up for shooters or RPG’s.”
“We’ve got fucking bad guys with AK’s up there on the slopes,” was the quick response from Chief Warrant Officer Bear Bernstein, the second in command who was traveling in the follow vehicle. “Sir, I suggest we lay back until the birds get here,” he added.
Bobby “Tick” Floyd was driving and sitting next to Bear. He chimed in. “Chief we’re driving into a fuckin’ ambush here. Tell the major we need to stop and back up before they hit us.”
“I see ‘em Bear and there’s movement from the target,” Major Burke said. He could see figures running out of the hut less than a quarter of a mile away. They were now driving up a steep hill on a narrow road with high slopes on each side. It was a perfect place for an ambush. He turned to the driver, Sergeant Dan “DC” Collins. “Slow ‘er down DC. We’ll wait for air support.”
“Bobby says we’re about to get hit. We need to stop now and back up, sir,” Bear said.
Major Burke trusted Bobby’s instincts more than his own. He looked over at DC and was about to give the order when they hit the IED (Improvised Explosive Device). The massive explosion lifted the five-ton truck off the ground before it slammed back down, landing in the crater. The Green Beret manning the heavy machine gun on the roof was killed instantly by the blast. Sergeant Collins was more stunned than hurt. He was semi-conscious, but trapped in his seat.
It was the right front tire that hit the mine, detonating directly under Major Burke. Blown out of the passenger door and catapulted skyward, he landed in the middle of the road. His right leg was gone below the hip, his left leg ripped off at the knee. Blood quickly drained out of him from torn arteries spraying from both stumps. Lying on his back Burke’s hands were shaking uncontrollably as he looked up at a cloudless blue sky.
Following fifty feet back, the second Humvee skidded to a stop the instant the lead vehicle hit the IED.
“No! No! No!” Able shouted.
Bobby was on the radio calling for a CASEVAC when one of Aziz’s men with a long tube on his shoulder popped up on the ridgeline above them. Mace was in the gun turret manning the .50 cal. “RPG! RPG!” he shouted, then started blasting away with the heavy machine gun. Mace hit the man low. The rounds shattered shins and knees, ripped through thighs, then gutted him before they blew through his spine and kept right on going. The dying fighter was doubling over when he pulled the trigger on the RPG. The grenade came in low, exploding five feet away from the Humvee. Shrapnel bounced off the armored grill and engine block, but ripped into the front run-flat tires, crippling them both.
From the ridges on either side of the road dozens of Aziz Khan’s soldiers appeared on the high ground. Several of them were thrown backwards when Mace tore into them with the 50. The survivors concentrated all their return fire on him and a torrent of AK-47 rounds came at him from all sides. Bullets pinged off the armored gun turret, a ricochet slapped the back of his helmet, another creased his forearm. It didn’t hurt yet, but his wrist and hand were instantly slick with blood. Time to move. Mace slid down from the gun turret, through the
Each of the three Humvees held four men, except for the lead with Major Burke which carried three. One member of their team, Sergeant John Bishop, had just left the service and rotated back to the States. They were still temporarily a man short.
Burke had been in the Army for seventeen years, all of them in Special Forces. He trained and worked side by side with his men. He trusted them because he knew they were the best. He trusted them because they’d all shed their blood together in battle. His guys were smart, self-motivated, highly skilled warriors, and he loved them all like the sons he never had.
Burke spoke into his mic: “Eyes up for shooters or RPG’s.”
“We’ve got fucking bad guys with AK’s up there on the slopes,” was the quick response from Chief Warrant Officer Bear Bernstein, the second in command who was traveling in the follow vehicle. “Sir, I suggest we lay back until the birds get here,” he added.
Bobby “Tick” Floyd was driving and sitting next to Bear. He chimed in. “Chief we’re driving into a fuckin’ ambush here. Tell the major we need to stop and back up before they hit us.”
“I see ‘em Bear and there’s movement from the target,” Major Burke said. He could see figures running out of the hut less than a quarter of a mile away. They were now driving up a steep hill on a narrow road with high slopes on each side. It was a perfect place for an ambush. He turned to the driver, Sergeant Dan “DC” Collins. “Slow ‘er down DC. We’ll wait for air support.”
“Bobby says we’re about to get hit. We need to stop now and back up, sir,” Bear said.
Major Burke trusted Bobby’s instincts more than his own. He looked over at DC and was about to give the order when they hit the IED (Improvised Explosive Device). The massive explosion lifted the five-ton truck off the ground before it slammed back down, landing in the crater. The Green Beret manning the heavy machine gun on the roof was killed instantly by the blast. Sergeant Collins was more stunned than hurt. He was semi-conscious, but trapped in his seat.
It was the right front tire that hit the mine, detonating directly under Major Burke. Blown out of the passenger door and catapulted skyward, he landed in the middle of the road. His right leg was gone below the hip, his left leg ripped off at the knee. Blood quickly drained out of him from torn arteries spraying from both stumps. Lying on his back Burke’s hands were shaking uncontrollably as he looked up at a cloudless blue sky.
Following fifty feet back, the second Humvee skidded to a stop the instant the lead vehicle hit the IED.
“No! No! No!” Able shouted.
Bobby was on the radio calling for a CASEVAC when one of Aziz’s men with a long tube on his shoulder popped up on the ridgeline above them. Mace was in the gun turret manning the .50 cal. “RPG! RPG!” he shouted, then started blasting away with the heavy machine gun. Mace hit the man low. The rounds shattered shins and knees, ripped through thighs, then gutted him before they blew through his spine and kept right on going. The dying fighter was doubling over when he pulled the trigger on the RPG. The grenade came in low, exploding five feet away from the Humvee. Shrapnel bounced off the armored grill and engine block, but ripped into the front run-flat tires, crippling them both.
From the ridges on either side of the road dozens of Aziz Khan’s soldiers appeared on the high ground. Several of them were thrown backwards when Mace tore into them with the 50. The survivors concentrated all their return fire on him and a torrent of AK-47 rounds came at him from all sides. Bullets pinged off the armored gun turret, a ricochet slapped the back of his helmet, another creased his forearm. It didn’t hurt yet, but his wrist and hand were instantly slick with blood. Time to move. Mace slid down from the gun turret, through the
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