Part 3 (2/2)
”I think he'll do fine. Doesn't look like Sadler will make it back. He got shot up a little too much. We'll have to wait about four months to see.”
He stuffed the chicken breast with broccoli and cherry pie desert into the microwave and set it for five minutes. He turned it on and looked at the paper again. Nothing in the international news that sounded critical. He was about to tune the TV set to CNN when his cell phone chimed. He'd forgotten to turn it off. He flipped the phone open.
”Murdock here.”
”Good, I caught you.” Murdock recognized the master chief's voice at once. ”Sir, we're getting our tails twisted again. I got a direct call from the CNO. He said he had a phone call from the President and the Chairman of the National Security Council and they want your platoon in DC tomorrow afternoon for a briefing at Langley. Something hot is cooking but he wouldn't tell me what. You don't argue with the chief of naval operations. You had an early morning trip to the desert planned for tomorrow. We have you booked on a biz jet for oh-eight-thirty. You're to come in full combat-ready gear, double loads of ammo, and all weapons. No Dragers or wet suits. This sounds like a dry land operation.”
”Yes, Master Chief. North Island Air at oh-eight-thirty. Gives us lots of time. Have you talked with Miguel Fernandez lately?”
”No, why, is he in trouble?”
”Not a bit, just wondered. We'll be ready and on board. We have two new men, but they'll have to earn their pay as they learn. We'll let the men check in over the quarter deck at the sched time of oh-four-thirty and take it from there. Any hint where we're going?
”Not a glimmer, lad. Not a Chinaman's clue.”
”Right. You sleep in in the morning. We've got the bus on call at oh-five-hundred. See you when we get back. Oh, does Masciareli know yet?”
”I'm about to call him. He's gonna p.i.s.s his pants again.”
”Yeah, be good for him. Take care, Master Chief.” He took a deep breath. Now he had to tell Ardith they were on call again. She would not be pleased.
5.
Murdock drove into the parking lot outside the Quarter Deck at oh-four-thirty. There were already six SEALs there jawing at each other around their cars. They waved and trooped together across the Quarter Deck and to SEAL Team Seven Third Platoon's quarters.
”Break out your new desert cammies,” Murdock told the men. ”We won't be going to the desert today; we have a mission, only n.o.body but the president knows what it is.”
”How's the time?” Jaybird asked.
”Lots of it. We don't take off from North Island NAS until oh-eight-thirty.”
”Time for chow,” somebody chirped.
”Yes,” Murdock said. ”The bus leaves here at oh-eight-hundred. We go ready to fight. Weapons, double ammo, no Drager or wet suits, so we're on a land mission. Fill in the rest of the men when they arrive. Gardner, on me.”
Lieutenant (J.G.) Gardner walked with Murdock to the small office and couldn't keep the curiosity out of his voice.
”So where are we really going, Cap?”
”DC, then Langley, Virginia, and a briefing I'd guess by the spooks at the farm.”
”Couldn't they do it with encrypted radio messages?”
”Evidently not. They may have more in mind than a briefing. The last time they invited us to Langley we came out looking like a ragtag bunch of Arabs.”
”We're going to infiltrate some Arab country?”
”Possible. We've done it before. Check out your squad and be sure that every man has his a.s.signed weapon and double ammo. That's going to mean ammo bags for the Bull Pups.”
”Will do, Commander,” Gardner said and hurried out the door.
It was a little after oh-seven-hundred when Murdock called home. Ardith should be about ready to drive to work. She picked up on the second ring.
”Yes, good morning.”
”Hi, Ardith. A small change in plans. I won't be home for a while, maybe a couple of weeks. We just got a new mission. We fly out this morning at oh-eight-thirty. Wanted to say good-bye.”
”I guess that new furniture we talked about looking for will have to wait. It hasn't been long since your last trip.”
”True. You know the routine. When they call, we go. You take care of things there. I've got to go. See you soon.”
”Soon. Murdock, I love you.”
”Love you, too. See you.”
He hung up and made a final check on Alpha Squad. Everyone had made it on time at oh-four-thirty. Some of them had breakfast. He found Fernandez checking over his gear. Murdock knelt down beside the SEAL and spoke so no one else could hear.
”You sure you want to go on this one?”
”I'm sure, Cap. I decided when I first heard we had a mission. The old fire horse. No way you can keep me out of it.”
”You talk with Maria?”
”For about two hours. She understands how I feel, and that I'm not sure which way I'm going to go. She said it's fine with her either way, but I know she'd rather I drop out and go black shoe.”
”I can order you to stay on base.”
”I know. But I don't think you'll do that. You don't want another washout.”
”Not that. I have to decide if you might endanger another man or your squad.” He looked at Fernandez. The SEAL stared straight and even at him, eye to eye. There was no wavering, no indecision on Fernandez's part. ”Okay, sailor, you on for this walk in the park.” Murdock stood. He nodded curtly and went back to the office.
The navy driver had pulled in the navy bus they were going to go to the desert in at 0840, sweating because he was late. He heard the news of the changed plans and promptly sacked out on the front seat.
The bus dropped off the sixteen SEALs in full battle gear at 0815 on the short runway next to a sleek Gulfstream II that the navy called the VC-11. It is the same as the civilian model with the exception of the added military communications gear and some interior layout changes. The craft is usually used for flying military top bra.s.s and VIPs around when they needed to move in a rush. It carries a crew of two and has seats for nineteen pa.s.sengers.
The VC-11 has a broad, tall vertical tail with a full-height rudder, swept horizontal stabilizers on top of the vertical ”T.” It uses insert elevators. Flight controls, flaps, spoilers, landing gear, and brakes are all operated by two independent hydraulic systems. Two Rolls-Royce turbofan engines power the craft.
It's seventy-nine feet long, twenty-four feet high, and has a long-range maximum cruising speed of 581 miles an hour. At cruising it can jump over 3,712 miles without refueling and has a ceiling of 43,000 feet.
The SEALs settled into the deluxe first-cla.s.s, pa.s.senger-style seats, stowing their ammo sacks, combat vests, and weapons wherever they found enough room.
A male second-cla.s.s petty officer came in from the front cabin and talked to Murdock. Then the CO of the platoon bellowed out an order. ”Listen up,” he said. The chatter stopped and the second cla.s.s waved.
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