Red Pheonix by Larry Bond
The following is an exerpt from Red Pheonix.
The following describes part of a North Korean attack on the US headquarters in South Korea initiating the hostilities to ensue later in the book.
The North Korean major crouched behind a parked Hyundai and feverishly snapped a new magazine into his submachine gun. Bullets spanged off the metal chassis and whined away into the air. He finished reloading, looked over to the man next to him, and jerked his head toward the direction of fire. They both jumped to their feet and sent precise three-round bursts crashing in through the windows of the barracks just ten yards away. Broken glass cascaded out onto the snow-covered lawn.
Moans coming from a tangle of half-dressed bodies sprawled in an open doorway attracted the major�s attention, and he fired another burst into them. The moans stopped.
He heard a muffled explosion from behind him and smiled exultantly. That would be his assault team finishing off the American general. Someone had raised the alarm, but it hadn�t mattered at all. If anything, it was making their job even easier. All over the compound, half-drunken and half-asleep Americans had rushed out to see what was happening, and they�d walked right into the deadly crossfires laid down by his men.
The major pulled another magazine out of his belt and wished they�d been able to carry more. He wanted to kill more Americans. This was like slaughtering sheep.
Suddenly the man crouching next to him grunted and fell over onto him as bullets scythed along the side of the car. Shit. The major rolled out from under the body and lay sighting back the way the bullets had come. He could see helmeted troops advancing up the street , ducking from car to parked car as they moved toward him. Americans who�d broken past his flank guards.
The major edged away from them around the rear bumper of the car he�d been using for cover. He popped up and fired a quick burst before dropping back down. The Americans flopped to the ground, pinned down by his fire. He grinned. Now for a quick dash away from the car and into the darkness. This was the kind of car-and-mouse fighting he�d trained for. The imperialists wouldn�t even know what had hit them. He got to his feet to run.
Corporal Hughes saw the movement up ahead and lifted the cardboard-tubed LAW he carried to his shoulder. He squeezed the trigger and closed his eyes against the backblast.
Some instinct made the North Korean commando leader turn his head to look just as the 66-millimeter light antitank rocket slammed into the passenger side of the Hyundai and exploded. Flame sheeted over him, but fast-moving steel and fiberglass fragments killed him before he had a chance to scream.
The Americans clambered to their feet and continued to advance, ignoring the smoking corpse that had been tossed to out into the middle of the road.