The Fall of Camp A-555: The Vietnamese Army are one step closer to victory... (Vietnam Ground Zero Military Thrillers Book 4) by Eric Helm

Author:Eric Helm [Helm, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sapere Books
Published: 2021-01-25T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

INSIDE U.S. ARMY SPECIAL FORCES CAMP A-555

It had taken Fetterman slightly less than an hour to cross the minefield between the inner and outer perimeters of the camp. He’d followed one of the hidden paths, secretly left clear of mines as an escape route for the American Special Forces team in case the camp was overrun, but he’d had to traverse it with caution, both in order to avoid detection in case anyone was watching from within the camp, as someone should have been, and in case the VC did, in fact, control the camp and had moved any of the mines or added to them. Ultimately, he’d found the pathway clear, which was good news. It would make getting out of the camp a lot simpler and faster than getting in.

Fetterman carefully snipped the barbed wire grillwork away from the mouth of the drainage tube in the packed mud and sandbagged wall. The jaws of the small pair of wire cutters, wrapped in strips of cloth to muffle the sound, made very little noise. Nevertheless, he paused after each soft snick to listen for any sound that might indicate his surreptitious entry had been overheard. He cut through only enough strands of wire to bend the bottom of the grillwork silently up out of the way, then tied a meter-long piece of black nylon cord to the grid. He slid into the tube headfirst, and used the cord to pull the grill back down into place behind his feet.

Fetterman considered himself lucky. His only companion inside the tube was a large rat, which hissed at him in protest of this brazen invasion of its territory, but the rodent retreated squeaking down the tube when Fetterman failed to buffalo and hissed back.

At the other end of the tube, Fetterman repeated his exercise with the wire cutters, waiting until he was sure the coast was clear before bending up the grillwork and slipping out of the tube.

As he turned to bend the wires back into place, he almost stepped into the body of a dead striker.

The man was very nearly killed twice. Fetterman already had his knife in motion before he noted that the striker’s throat had been slashed from ear to ear. He checked his thrust aimed beneath the corpse’s rib cage.

The striker’s body had been propped against a pile of sandbags so that from a distance he appeared to be standing. Fetterman didn’t recognize him, but then, he didn’t know everyone in the strike force. He noted with interest that the cadaver bore two distinguishing elements: a strip of red cloth tied about the left arm and a slit in the trousers revealing a characteristic mutilation.

That bit of grisly trophy taking gave Fetterman more information than he might have gleaned from an entire night of roving about the camp. It told him that the camp was in the hands of the VC. That they had pulled off their coup by infiltrating the strike force. And that somewhere within

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