Page 59 of Cry Havoc
“Ready.”
“Go!”
Tom leapt to his feet and pulled himself into the back of the gun truck, making his way to the .50. He heaved what was left of the gunner out of the way and slid behind the weapon as he felt the truck shudder to life with Amiuh at the wheel. He quickly noted that both the right and left belted feeds still had a ready supply of ammunition and that the bolt catches were locked out of engagement, which meant they were set to fire on fully automatic. The M2 was primed to go to work.
At the sound of the vehicle’s engine turning over, the insurgents shifted their fire from the jeep to the gun truck.
Tom could hear the 7.62 rounds of the enemy impacting the armored paneling that protected the truck’s bed. They made a different sound when they hit the sandbags around the fenders.
From his elevated position, Tom saw combatants with AK and SKS rifles firing at Quinn from behind parked cars.
He depressed the triggers on the dual .50s as Amiuh put the truck in gear, the heavy rounds eating through what moments earlier had been cover.
Amiuh positioned the armored truck between Quinn’s jeep and the burning cargo vehicle.
“Get in!” Tom shouted between bursts, preventing the insurgents from shooting while his friend and their new passengers loaded up.
“Come on!” Tom shouted.
The .50s continued to do the work that John Moses Browning intended, tearing through the enemy ranks, removing heads and limbs, cutting people in two.
Quinn, Eldridge, Captain Lam, an ARVN guard, and the prisoner crawled into the bed of the armored vehicle.
“Go! Go! Go!” shouted Quinn.
Tom slammed his hand down twice on the roof of the cab and got right back on the .50s, keeping the enemy suppressed as Amiuh hit the gas and maneuvered the huge vehicle down the side street and away from the battle.
“Stay down!” Tom said as he swung the weapon to cover their six, ripping multiple bursts into the beaten zone.
Amiuh took the next right, which put them behind cover.
“Everyone okay?” Tom asked as his passengers struggled onto the wooden benches that ran down both sides of the truck’s bed.
Quinn pushed the prisoner down into the seat across from him, doing a quick visual evaluation.
“Charlie’s good,” he said, referring to the prisoner. “Eldridge?”
“I’m okay,” the State Department man managed.
“Captain Lam?” Quinn asked.
The captain nodded, keeping the 1911 pistol pressed against a wound on his left bicep.
Quinn looked at the ARVN guard, who nodded.
“We’re good!” Quinn shouted up at Tom.
Quinn and the ARVN guard both still had rifles and took up security positions to the right and left sides of the gun truck while Tom pivoted the .50s back to the front.
Captain Lam had his eyes on the prisoner.
Just a little farther, Amiuh,Tom thought.Then we pull over and get someone up front who knows where we are going.
A gunshot brought his attention to the cargo area behind him.
What the fuck was that?
He snapped his head to the rear to see Captain Lam standing over the dead prisoner holding his 1911.
