Free PRIMAL Vengeance (3) by Jack Silkstone Page A

Success would bring with it the respect and service of the entire tribe.
           Dawn had finally broken, the first fingers of light creeping over the horizon to cast a faint glow across the bush. Despite the lighting inside the refinery it had been difficult to make out any of the base's defenses. As the front gate became visible in the grey hues of dawn Garang could see how accurate Jonjo's sketch map was. The militia had placed a lot of faith in the young soldier and it had paid dividends; using the map, all three of their firing positions were sighted perfectly. They covered the gate as well as the machine gun towers at the entrance and each corner of the refinery. Together they could suppress all of the refinery's defenses on its western flank.
           Garang pulled his RPG in closer. According to Jonjo a tanker departed the facility most mornings just after dawn. It would be escorted by two jeeps armed with machine guns, more than enough security to deal with potential thieves. This morning they would get a lot more than they bargained for.
           From inside the refinery Garang heard the rumbling of a large diesel engine. A cloud of soot rose up above the fence as the truck warmed up.
           "This is it," Garang whispered to the man next to him. He shouldered the RPG, tucking it in against his cheek. Firers on each side of him did the same.
           They watched as the guards slid back the gate and waved the first of the convoy through. A Chinese jeep drove out, weaved between the barriers and stopped twenty meters up the road.
           The tanker itself revved hard as it came through the gate, struggling with a full load of oil. The driver was experienced; he deftly threaded the truck through the concrete barriers.
           Garang flicked the safety lever off his RPG and sighted the truck through the iron sights. The words of his weapons instructor from basic training raced through his mind: squeeze the trigger; let the weapon surprise you.
           The explosion that launched the rocket was deafening, the back blast of the weapon throwing up a plume of dust. The projectile screamed across the 400 meter gap and slammed into the tanker with a crump.
           The tanker detonated in an instant, a jet of flame leaping from the rupture as thousands of liters of freshly refined oil ignited spewing flame into the entry point. Moments later a second and third rocket streaked from the position. Put off by the blast of Garang's initial rocket, they missed the tanker, slamming into the concrete blast walls.
           Immediately following the rockets came the small arms, PKM and AK fire lashing the guard towers and blasting the sandbagged defenses. There was no chance for return fire. The guards hunkered down in an attempt to escape the overwhelming firepower.
           The single jeep that had ventured out of the refinery was destroyed by 7.62mm rounds. Its occupants died instantly, their bodies riddled with bullets.
           As the dust cleared from Garang's position, he surveyed the damage. The burning tanker blocked the entry point, black smoke billowing from the wreck. One jeep was destroyed and at least half a dozen guards had been trapped outside the fence by the blaze. They either burned or were shot down by the SFF fighters eager to exact vengeance for the recent Janjaweed atrocities. Garang grinned. The attack was a success.
           "Garang, my team is ineffective. We cannot see the enemy," Jonjo transmitted over the radio.
           Thick clouds of smoke from the destroyed tanker had completely obscured half the refinery. Jonjo's team could no longer see the guard tower or the fence.
           "Wait, I am coming to you," Garang transmitted before turning to the man next to him. "Hand me all the grenades."
           The Dinka warrior gave Garang a cloth satchel. The men in the group passed along their grenades and Garang gathered them up,