K9LTW – a fiction by MKHurder part-2
CHAPTER 26: THE SILENCE BEFORE
The Edge of Morning
Dawn crept over Bearcat like a man afraid to touch a wound. The first light filtered through drifting smoke, turning the air a muted gold that did nothing to soften the scars carved into the earth. The western wire lay twisted and blackened. Craters steamed. The jungle beyond the kill zone smoldered in long, glowing seams where the nightโs fighting had eaten through the undergrowth. Nothing moved. Not a bird. Not an insect. Not even the breeze.
The returning patrol emerged from the haze in a staggered file, moving with the quiet, deliberate caution of men who had survived the night but didnโt trust the morning. Rook led the patrol, nose low, ears forward, every step measured. Reyes followed directly behind him, one hand near the leash clip, eyes tracking the dogโs body language more than the jungle itself. Merloni came next, guiding the rest of the men, spacing them.
Rook paused once, muscles tightening, head turning slightly toward the north. Reyes felt the shift immediately and raised a fist to halt the patrol. They waited, listening to the silence press in around them, until the dog eased forward again.
They reached the wire without incident, though none of them believed the quiet. The gate guards waved them through; relief etched into their smokeโstreaked faces. The patrol dispersed toward their respective positions, but Reyes hesitated, glancing toward the kennel on the far side of the compound.
A radio call crackled from the kennel before he could take a step. โTOC, Kennel. Be advisedโBodieโs locked north.” Reyes closed his eyes for a moment. The dogs didnโt false alarm. Not after a night like this. Not ever. Inside the Tactical Operations Center, Jasper straightened from the map table, fatigue momentarily forgotten. โCopy, Kennel. All units stand by.โ
On the west wall, McCready listened to the report with a grim nod. The smoke made everything shimmer, but he could feel the change in the air. The enemy wasnโt gone. They were planning. Donnie climbed up beside him, helmet askew, face streaked with grime. He looked like a kid who had aged ten years in one night. Maybe he had.
โSarge,โ Donnie said, He didnโt like the quiet either. “This shit’s kinda spooky, ain’t it?โ
McCready lowered his binoculars. โYou noticed that did ya?โ He snickered. He studied Donnie for a moment. The kid was exhausted, filthy, and still standing. Still ready. Still trying. โJasper pushed a specialist rank for you,โ McCready said. โYou turned it down?โ
Donnie shrugged, embarrassed. โCainโt I just have some stripes?โ
McCready snorted. โYou wanted sergeant stripes?โ
โReckon I did.โ
โWell, tough. Jasper made you a corporal. Two stripes. Wear โem proud.โ He handed Donnie two sets of Private-E2 stripes with a grin.
Donnie blinked, then grinned despite himself. โYes, sarge.โ
Below them, engineers finished reinforcing the mortar pit that now housed a single quadโ50, a monstrous, fourโbarreled beast bristling with belts of .50โcaliber ammunition. Two more had been dragged into position at the southern corners, their crews checking traverse and elevation. The guns had arrived barely an hour earlier, hauled in by a convoy that had driven through the night with blackout lights and clenched teeth.
Jasperโs surprise. And the NVA had no idea. Reyes joined them on the wall, rifle slung, eyes scanning the tree line. He didnโt mention the dogs again. He didnโt need to. McCready understood.
The jungle was too quiet. The kind of quiet that meant someone was holding their breath. The kind of quiet that meant someone was watching. The kind of quiet that meant the next move was already in motion. A distant thump rolled across the jungleโsoft, deliberate, unmistakable. Artillery.
Reyes exhaled. โHere we go.โ
McCready lifted his radio. โAll positions. Take cover – Incoming.โ
The second thump landed closer. The ground shuddered. Dust drifted from the timber supports in the TOC and Commo Shack. Men tightened their grips on their rifles. Someone whispered a prayer. Someone else cursed under their breath.
The third round hit the western tree line, sending a geyser of dirt and shredded foliage into the air. McCready didnโt flinch. โPositions!โ he barked. โEyes front!โ The jungle seemed to inhale, and then it erupted.
The First Assault
A ripple of motion passed through the tree line, subtle, almost delicate, like the forest taking a breath it didnโt intend to reveal. But McCready wasnโt fooled. Heโd felt this before, in other places, under other skies. The moment before an attack always had a weight to it, a pressure that settled on the skin like humidity.
He raised his binoculars. โEyes front.โ
The men along the west wall tightened their grips on their rifles. Donnie swallowed hard, wiped sweat from his brow, and tried to steady his breathing. Reyes shifted his stance, checking his magazine, then the next one. The smoke drifting across the wire made everything shimmer, as if the world were vibrating.
A distant thump rolled across the jungleโsoft, deliberate, unmistakable.
Artillery.
Reyes exhaled. โHere we go.โ
The second round landed closer. The ground trembled. Dust drifted from the timber supports. Someone cursed under their breath. Someone else whispered a prayer. The third round hit the western tree line, sending a geyser of dirt and shredded foliage into the air.
McCready didnโt flinch.
โPositions!โ he barked. โStand to!โ The jungle seemed to inhale. Figures burst from the smokeโfirst a handful, then dozens, then a wave. NVA regulars in faded green uniforms, VC fighters in black pajamas, all moving with a grim, determined rhythm. Their formation was uneven, but their momentum was undeniable. They came low, fast, rifles up, voices rising in a fractured chorus that cut through the smoke.
โContact front!โ McCready roared. The west wall lit up.M16s barked in sharp, disciplined bursts. M60s hammered from sandbag nests, their tracers stitching the kill zone in red arcs. Grenades arced outward, tumbling end over end before disappearing into the smoke with muffled thumps.
Donnie fired until his rifle bucked against his shoulder, then fired again. He didnโt think. He didnโt breathe. He just aimed at shapes, silhouettes that jerked, stumbled, fell. Reyes moved along the line, shouting corrections, dragging a wounded man into cover, firing controlled bursts into the advancing mass. He fought like someone who had already accepted the worst and was determined to deny it.
The enemy kept coming. They moved with a strange mixture of discipline and desperation, bounding pairs, then clusters, then individuals sprinting through gaps in the smoke. Some fired from the hip. Others dropped to a knee and aimed with chilling calm. A few carried satchel charges, their fuses already lit.
โSappers!โ someone shouted. McCready saw them too. โTake โem down!โ
A satchel charge detonated short of the wire, sending a geyser of dirt into the air. Another landed against the sandbags but failed to detonate, its fuse sputtering weakly before dying. The assault pressed closer. Down in the mortar pit, the quadโ50 crew waited, knuckles white on the grips. The monstrous weapon sat like a coiled predator, four barrels gleaming with oil and anticipation. The crew chief glanced toward the TOC, waiting for the order.
Jasper appeared at the edge of the pit, headset pressed to his ear. His face was pale beneath the grime, but his voice was steady.
โHold,โ he said.
The crew chief swallowed. โSir, theyโre closing fast.โ
โHold,โ Jasper repeated.
He waited until the enemy was fully committed, until their momentum carried them into the open, until the smoke thinned just enough to reveal the density of the assault.
Then he gave the order.
โFire.โ
The firebase shook.
The quadโ50 roared like a dragon clearing its throat, four barrels spitting fire in synchronized fury. The sound wasnโt gunfire, it was a continuous, ripping tearing noise, like canvas being shredded by a hurricane. The effect was instantaneous. The front ranks of the assault vanished, not fell, not stumbledโvanished in a mist of dirt, smoke, and pulverized foliage. The second rank broke. The third rank dove for cover that no longer existed.
Donnie stared, stunned. โHolyโโ
โEyes up!โ McCready snapped. โTheyโll try again!โ But for a moment, they didnโt. The survivors of the first wave crawled backward, dragging wounded comrades, shouting to one another in frantic bursts of Vietnamese. The smoke thickened again, swallowing them as they retreated into the tree line. The west wall fell quiet except for the ringing in the menโs ears and the soft clatter of spent brass rolling across the sandbags.
Reyes wiped sweat from his brow. โThat was just the probe.โ
McCready nodded. โYeah.โ
He scanned the jungle again. โTheyโll be back.โ
The Second Assault
The west wall had barely gone quiet when the southeast erupted.
It began with a single, heavy thump that rolled across the compound like distant thunder. Then another. Then three in rapid succession. The ground trembled. Someone shouted for everyone to get down. Reyes ducked instinctively as a burst of green tracers slashed across the southeast perimeter, cutting through the smoke in long, angry arcs. The rounds chewed into sandbags, tore splinters from wooden posts, and sent men scrambling for cover.
โHeavy guns!โ Reyes shouted. โAt least two!โ
He didnโt need to say more. The deeper rhythm of the fire told its own story, DShK heavy machine guns, dug in and firing from concealed pits. The kind of weapons that could peel a man off a wall even through sandbags.
Inside the TOC, Jasper snapped toward the map. โThatโs 2nd Battalion. Theyโre early.โ
He grabbed the handset. โSouthern quads, engage!โ
The two quadโ50 crews had been waiting for this moment. Fingers hovering over butterfly triggers. The crew chiefs shouted orders, and the guns came alive. The firebase shook again, harder this time, as both quadโ50s opened up. Their combined roar was a physical force, flattening the air, rattling teeth, vibrating through bone. The barrels spat fire in synchronized arcs, sweeping the open filed all the way to the jungle like scythes made of light.
Trees disintegrated. Foliage shredded. The heavy machineโgun nests vanished in clouds of dirt and splinters. The DShKs fell silent almost immediately, swallowed by the storm. The NVA assault line falteredโthen collapsed entirely. Men dove for cover that no longer existed. Others tried to retreat, only to be caught in the overlapping cones of fire. The quadโ50s didnโt fire bursts. They carved lanes.
Reyes shielded his face from the spray of dirt. โJesusโฆโ
McCreadyโs voice crackled over the radio. โJasper, those guns are tearing the jungle apart!โ
โThatโs the idea,โ Jasper replied.
For a moment, the southeast fell quiet except for the ringing in the menโs ears and the soft hiss of burning foliage. The quadโ50s wound down, their barrels glowing red, smoke curling from their muzzles. But was the quiet victory? It felt more like a pause.
Baoโs Breaking Point
Deep in the jungle, Bao watched the southern assault disintegrate. The quadโ50sโ fire had torn through their ranks like a storm, leaving shredded foliage and broken bodies in its wake. The survivors crawled backward, dragging wounded comrades, shouting in confusion.
Minhโs face twisted in disbelief. โThey moved more guns. How? We saw nothing!โ Bao didnโt answer immediately. He was staring at the carnage with a hollow expression, not fear, not shock, but recognition. โTheir dogs warned them. Their patrols warned them. Their commander listened.โ
Minh rounded on him. โYou knew?โ
โI suspected,โ Bao said quietly. โThe Americans are not blind. They adapt.โ
Minhโs jaw clenched. โWe attack again. Now.โ
Bao grabbed his arm. โIf we rush that line, we die.โ
โWe die anyway if we retreat!โ
Bao stepped closer, voice low and dangerous. โQuang would not have thrown lives away.โ
Minhโs eyes burned. โQuang is dead because he hesitated.โ
Baoโs face hardened. โQuang is dead because he was seen.โ
The clearing went silent. The men around them watched, torn between two instinctsโMinhโs fury and Baoโs caution. The battalion had lost its center. Quangโs absence was a wound that had not yet scabbed over.
A runner stumbled into the clearing, panting. โCaptain Minh! Lieutenant Bao! The west assault is stalled. The southern assault is broken. We have heavy casualties.โ
Minh grabbed the man by the collar. โWe attack again!โ
Bao pulled him back. โWe regroup. We reassess. If we charge those guns, we die for nothing.โ
Minh tore free. โBetter to die attacking than crawling away!โ
Bao stared at him, grief and fury mixing in equal measure. โRecklessness will kill us all.โ
Minh turned to the men. โWe attack. All remaining forces. We break them or die trying.โ Bao saw the decision settle over the survivors, some nodding, some looking away, none willing to challenge the madness. Even the Political officers balked. He knew he had lost control. He also knew what would happen next.
The Final Push Begins
Back at Bearcat, the southern guns fell silent. Smoke drifted in long, ghostly sheets. The jungle seemed to sag under the weight of its own destruction.
Reyes wiped sweat from his brow. โThatโs not it. Theyโre not done.โ
McCready nodded. โNo. Theyโre regrouping.โ
Donnie reloaded with shaking hands. โSargeโฆ what now?โ
โNow?โ McCready said. โNow we wait.โ
The wait didnโt last long. A horn sounded from deep in the jungle. The sound was raw, desperate, and full of something that felt like grief turned violent.
The final wave came.
Collapse and Aftermath
The hornโs raw, desperate cry still hung in the air when the jungle erupted for the third time. This wave didnโt come with the discipline of Quangโs planning or the measured aggression of the earlier assaults. It came like a wound torn open, messy, furious, uncoordinated. Men burst from the tree line in a ragged surge, some shouting, some silent, some firing wildly, others clutching rifles like talismans. The smoke parted around them in swirling sheets, revealing faces streaked with soot and grief.
McCready saw it instantly. โThis is their final push, boys!โ he shouted. โHOLD!โ
The west wall exploded with fire. M16s cracked in rapid bursts. M60s hammered from their nests, tracers slicing through the smoke. Grenades arced outward, tumbling end over end before disappearing into the mass of bodies with muffled thumps.
Donnie fired until his rifle smoked, then swapped it for another from a wounded man without missing a beat. His breath came in ragged gasps, but his hands were steady. He didnโt think about the new stripes. He didnโt think about the night before. He didnโt think about anything except the next target.
McCready moved along the line, shouting corrections, dragging a bleeding private into cover, firing controlled bursts into the advancing wave. His voice was hoarse, his eyes burning from smoke and exhaustion, but he kept moving.
The enemy hit the wire in a chaotic surge. Some climbed, hands bleeding as they grabbed razor coils. Others tried to cut through, only to be cut down. A few reached the first row of sandbags before collapsing under the weight of concentrated fire.
The quadโ50 on the west wall opened up again, its barrels glowing red, its roar drowning out everything else. The weapon tore the assault apart, shredding the last of Minhโs momentum. Bodies fell in heaps. The wire shook under the weight of the dead and dying. Still, they came, they fell, they came, and they fell. Minh was among them. He appeared through the smoke like a specter, uniform torn, face streaked with soot and blood. He fired as he ran, screaming orders no one could hear. His eyes were wild, unfocused, driven by something deeper than rage, something like rage sharpened into madness.
He reached the wire, clawing his way up the coils, ignoring the cuts that opened across his arms and legs. He climbed higher, reaching for the sandbags, fingers brushing the edge. A single shot cracked from the wall. Minh jerked, eyes widening in surprise. For a moment, he hung suspended on the wire, arms flung wide. Then he fell backward, disappearing into the swirling smoke. Bao saw it happen.
He stood frozen, breath caught in his throat, watching the man he had argued with, fought beside, and tried to restrain collapse into the mud. Around him, the remnants of the battalion faltered, their momentum breaking like a wave against rock. Bao closed his eyes. When he opened them, he turned to the survivors, what few remained. Men with torn uniforms, bleeding hands, hollow eyes. Men who had followed Quang with discipline and Minh with desperation. Men who had nothing left to give.
โFall back,โ Bao ordered. โWe cannot win this today.โ No one argued. They retreated into the jungle, dragging their wounded, leaving behind the dead and the dying. The smoke swallowed them, and the forest closed around their retreat like a curtain falling on a broken play.
The Silence After
The firing tapered off slowly, like a storm losing strength. The last shots echoed across the compound, then faded into the smoldering quiet. The jungle sagged under the weight of its own destruction. Smoke drifted in long, ghostly sheets. The air tasted of ash and blood.
McCready lowered his rifle. โCease fire,โ he said, though his men had already stopped. โCheck your buddies. Check your ammo. Hydrate. Stay sharp!โ Donnie slumped against the sandbags, chest heaving. His hands shook as he reloaded out of habit, though there was nothing left to shoot at. โSargeโฆ did weโฆ?โ
โWe held,โ McCready said. โThatโs enough.โ Reyes leaned on his rifle, sweat dripping from his chin. His eyes were red, his voice raw. โDogs were right again.โ McCready nodded. โThey always are.โ
Below them, medics moved through the wounded, calling for stretchers, applying tourniquets, shouting for more hands. Engineers began assessing the wire, marking breaks, planning repairs. The quadโ50 crews cooled their barrels with canteens, steam rising in thin, hissing tendrils.
Inside the TOC, Jasper stood over the map, listening to the final reports come in on casualties, ammo counts, damage assessments. The numbers were ugly, but the perimeter had held. He exhaled slowly, then straightened.
โGet the medics some help. Check the line all the way around. And someone check on those damn dogs. They’ll probably smell a tank next.โ A lieutenant nodded and hurried off. Jasper looked at the map one last time. The enemy had thrown everything they had, discipline, fury, numbers, desperation. And Bearcat still stood. But he knew this wasnโt over. The enemy would regroup, rearm, recharge. They were adapting, and so would he.
The Kennels
Bodie and Rook stood in their runs, ears forward, watching the tree line with unblinking focus. Their bodies were tense, their breathing steady. They didnโt bark. They didnโt whine. They simply watched. The kennel staff moved quietly around them, checking locks, refilling water, whispering reassurances that the dogs didnโt need. The men knew the truth: the dogs were still picking up tickles from the south. They were usually right.
Outside, the sun climbed higher, burning through the smoke. The jungle beyond the wire was quiet, but not peaceful – not safe.
Bearcat held its breath. The silence that followed was not victory. It was preparation.
(to be continued) Chapter 27 – The Weight of the Morning Teaser – The sun rises over Bearcat, revealing the true cost of the nightโs defense. Medics move through the wounded. Engineers rebuild the shattered wire. The men on the line stand in a silence too heavy for words. But the jungle is not done speaking. Reyes notices Rookโs unease long before the radios catch the first intercepted transmission. McCready finds signs of a withdrawal that doesnโt feel like defeat. And somewhere in the deep green, Bao makes a choice that will change the rhythm of the war around Bearcat. The next move will not come with shouting or artillery. It will come with silence.
(Attn: all images AI generated from my prompts unless otherwise noted.)
It’s just my blurb from here to the end.
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Bonus Fiction Feature:
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From Popi’s Tales & The Book of Wonders
More from Popi’s Collection of Facts & Fiction
- Burtt the Blade – fiction
- Doh-Rey-Me Book 1 – fiction – book – written here
- Doh-Rey-Me Book 2 – fiction – book – written here
- K9LTW Book 1 – fiction – book – written here
- K9LTW Book 2 – fiction – book – written here – in progress
- Mystery of Willow Woods – fiction – short Story – written here
- The Last Signal – part one – fiction – book – written here
- Rift Guardians – chapter#1 – fiction – book – written here
- Shorty’s Path – non-fiction auto biography book
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