Ryan flicked his rifle back to safe, cursing as the flare arced overhead. He hadn’t had a chance to shoot more than two rounds; the grenade had shredded the first three VC, and his boys had laid out enough disciplined fire to put down the charging line quickly and efficiently. When the echoing gunfire ceased he wasted no time, dropping to a knee and digging his map out of his map and compass out of his cargo pocket.
“Hey, Sarge? Wanna make a phone call and maybe arrange for a ride?”
“No time,” he said shortly, waving off his radioman. Instead he quickly oriented the map with the compass, using the locations of a few known landmarks he’d seen on the flight in to triangulate their position as best he could. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would give him an idea of where they were, and where they needed to go.
After a moment or two he pointed one finger at the map.
“Okay, we’re about here, give or take some milage. The Cong came from the West...So...Over here. Maybe this village.” He indicated the spot.
“There’s a river out here to the East...Got some clearings, might make for a good LZ. Couple villages, too…”
He stared at the map for a brief moment, then folded it up and crammed it back into his cargo pocket.
“Alright. First thing’s first. We’ve gotta clear this LZ most ricky-tick. Charlie and his boys will be here any time, following that flare. We need to move East, towards that river. If we can find some open ground, I’ll try and call back for an extract, but our main goal is finding somewhere to hide ourselves so I can get a better grip on our pos. If we can spot a village I can figure the rest out from there, but I can’t get a solid fix from fuckin’ trees.”
He pointed at Sgt Pope.
“Pope, you’re on point. Eyes peeled, head on a swivel, and watch the fuckin’ ground. I don’t think there’ll be a random trip-wire this far out in the boonies, but there’s no sense not playing safe. Everyone else, give me a staggered column behind him. Six meters dispersion, watching your footing. We need to move quick but careful.”
Ryan looked to Buck. “Barnes, you’re next in line. Derricks, behind him. I want that gun where we can deploy it forward or back. Then it’s Hoffman, me, and Dodgers. Dodgers, you’ll be at the rear. You’ll be able to hear Charlie coming before the rest of us, and if he starts catching up you bust out Thumper and drop a forty-mike down his throat. Shit goes dinky dau, pop some smoke. We don’t have the numbers for a stand-up fight.”
He stood and hefted his rifle, adjusting his helmet on his head.
“Okay boys. Move ‘em out. We’re gonna show these motherfuckers why Uncle Sam sends Cav to do the hard shit.”
