The Chosen One

“Two on, two off, just like usual,” Fife said. “We’ll let the lieutenant sleep. Pitzer, you and I will take the first two hours. Joyce, Benson, and Lewis will handle the next two.”

They settled in for their first tentative rest in quite some time.

* * *

—

That’s where Captain Richards found them late the next morning.

“Sorry I took so long getting out here, Sam,” Richards said. “But it couldn’t be helped. Been busy loading the wounded onto medevacs and identifying as many of the dead as I can.”

“How many left in the company, sir?” Erickson asked.

“Counting the six of you, I’ve located thirty-four. If we’re lucky, there might be a straggler or two out there somewhere, but probably not many more than that. Except for you and Gunnery Sergeant Fife, none of the platoon leaders or platoon sergeants survived.”

“When’s the battalion heading out again?” Erickson asked.

“Battalion? What battalion? There are so few of us left it’s less than company size. Division’s decided we’ve had enough. For the moment, our combat role’s over. The British tanks are re-forming. If all goes as planned, they’ll depart this afternoon. But we’re not going with them. A battalion from the 1st Division will be taking over for us. We’re staying here to locate any remaining wounded, and tag American and British dead.”

“Then what, sir?” Erickson asked.

“Then comes the fun part. They’re bringing in bulldozers. Once our casualties are removed, we’re going to dig mass graves for the Pan-Arabs. With this many dead in so concentrated an area, health concerns will become quite real if we don’t do something. So our job’s to get them underground.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I wish I were, Sam. Battalion’s set up its command post a half mile southwest of here. Have your men gather their equipment and head over to receive your assignments.”

* * *

—

Pitzer eased the Humvee across the seeping crimson ground. Fife walked in front of the vehicle, his rifle at the ready. In two hours of searching for the dead and wounded, they’d encountered more than one Pan-Arab with fight left in him. The last had been a political officer whose aim was no straighter than his twisted beliefs. The platoon sergeant quickly dispatched him to the exalted existence he desperately craved.

Gunny was also there to ensure in the smoke and confusion they didn’t run over a dead or wounded Marine or British tanker. Every few feet, another Pan-Arab corpse waited. For now they’d ignore the unending carcasses, concentrating on their own losses. The time would come soon enough to deal with the massive numbers of Algerian and Libyan dead.

Erickson and Joyce walked on one side of the Humvee, Benson and Lewis on the other. To this point, they’d found few Allied wounded, and far too many dead. As they discovered another lifeless American they’d pick up the shattered body and place it in the Humvee. When they reached another defeated Challenger, they’d enter its smoldering hull to retrieve the charred remains of its crew. With the aggrieved Humvee piled high with those who’d failed to survive, they’d return to the battalion command post to await the next King Stallion to land and receive its grisly cargo. That task completed, the scarred vehicle and its dazed attendants would return to the distorted circus to retrieve another gut-wrenching load.

In another day, with the Allied casualties collected, the bulldozers would arrive and the truly horrendous portion of their efforts would begin. Forty-five thousand remains would have to be gathered and dumped into the mass graves being dug throughout the unforgiving terrain.

With the desecrated battleground still filled with smoke, the enormity of what had happened hadn’t fully sunk in. It would take three days for the final banishing fires to conclude.

When they did, and the lingering shadows cleared, the ruinous sands would reveal their gruesome secret. And the hideous scene mankind would find was beyond description.

Yet in the end, none of what had happened in this place would matter, for the appalling slaughter would go on.

56

7:15 P.M., OCTOBER 30

PAN-ARAB HEADQUARTERS

INSIDE THE KING’S BURIAL CHAMBER, THE GREAT PYRAMID OF KHUFU

THE GIZA PLATEAU

General el-Saeed entered the King’s Burial Chamber. Having returned from his sunset walk along the crumbling wall next to the ancient cemetery on the western side of the Great Pyramid, Muhammad Mourad was sitting in the center of the archaic kingdom’s most sacred room.

“Well?” Mourad said, his words echoing throughout the enclosed space.

“Chosen One,” General el-Saeed said, “the great battle in the north has reached its end. Our divisions fought bravely. Not one of our warriors retreated from his post. Each died honoring Allah. The exalted voyages to their honored place are assured. For many hours the fighting raged. But it was no use. Our enemies were too powerful. We’ve suffered defeat. The infidels will soon be on the march again across a wide area. Their advance elements will be within eighty kilometers of Cairo by morning.”

“Are we preparing further defensive positions?”

“Our forces are gathering. They’re digging in and readying to engage the nonbelievers in many more battles in the coming days. That should slow their progress and buy us time.”

“How much longer before those in the north reach us?”

General el-Saeed hesitated, reluctant to admit the war might soon be over. He understood his army’s destiny had been decreed the moment the Mahdi refused to bypass the Egyptian capital and attack Israel. Only a miracle, or a swift and decisive victory in the coming assault upon Cairo, could save the day. With the venerable city conquered, the general might still be able to rush his tanks across the Sinai, drawing Israel into the war. Even so, there wasn’t much time remaining.

“A week, ten days at most,” the bearded el-Saeed said.

“A week . . . What’s the word on our reinforcements?”

“It’s as projected. The Sudanese are making solid progress up the Nile. Many should be in a position to join us in a matter of days. But the American defenses on the Libyan border have proven too strong for our forces coming from the west.”

“We cannot wait for our reserves to arrive. If we do so, we’ll be too late.”