Holding the Line by Rick Shelley

Author:Rick Shelley [Shelley, Rick]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-1-936535-40-8
Publisher: Jabberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.
Published: 2001-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

BEFORE MY FIRST BURST ENDED, THE REST OF my team had started firing—rifles and grenade launchers. One man in each fire team had a grenade launcher; two others carried several spare four-grenade clips to keep him supplied. I slid a little to my right until I had another decent position, then fired again, spreading several short bursts across as much of the enemy line as I could see, rolling more to my right after each burst.

The IF company had started to return fire, but wildly, so I had muzzle flashes and the outlines of enemy helmets to target. For the most part, I concentrated on shooting and moving, staying flat so I wouldn’t give enemy riflemen much of a target. But I also kept an eye on the timeline of my helmet’s head-up display. We didn’t dare stay close very long or the enemy commander would have soldiers out to try to flank us, or they would start dropping barrages of grenades around our positions.

Less than two minutes after I fired the first shots, I started angling away from the enemy. If they remembered their instructions, the rest of my men would be doing the same. Just in case they didn’t, I said “Start disengaging” over the squad frequency. At the moment, radio silence was unnecessary. The enemy knew we were close, and no matter how good their direction finders might be, they couldn’t get as much from them as they could by spotting our muzzle flashes.

Each fire team would attempt to regroup 250 yards farther out—beyond the range of rocket-propelled grenades, RPGs—and too far out to have to worry too much about enemy rifle fire, as long as we stayed low. There were too many trees between us and them. Then the two fire teams would move toward rendezvous.

The enemy gunfire was heavy but still not well directed. Most of the rounds passed well overhead. Once, after I had started crawling backward, a small limb fell on me after it had been cut by rifle fire. For maybe two seconds I froze where I was, startled, needing that time to realize what had hit me, and to reassure myself that I had not been injured. Then I moved, faster, anxious to put more distance between me and the enemy.

I spotted Nuyi on my right as my fire team started to come together. The IF rifle fire had started to slacken, coming in batches, often separated by five to ten seconds of near silence. An occasional enemy grenade was also going off—most at least sixty or seventy yards away. The tonatin soldiers evidently thought we were closer than we were.

Oyo and Iyi came into view on my left, too close together, but both uninjured. Fred Wilkins was the last to reach the rendezvous. He was also unhurt. I wasn’t going to get on the radio to ask Souvana about his team. Since we were trying to break contact with the enemy, I didn’t want to use the radio.

I used hand signals to communicate with the others in my team.

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