Deathrace (34 page)

“Just about to do that. Most of them should be sleeping by now. Let’s go check them out.”

Four days later, Murdock stretched out in his office chair and relaxed. Magic Brown was safely tucked away in Balboa Naval Hospital in San Diego. The doctors were surprised how the infection had spread, and repeated how lucky he had been not to lose the leg. The evaluation was that he would need a month of bed rest, massive medications, then two weeks of rehab before he could start to work out with the platoon again.

Fred Washington’s shoulder was on the mend. The bullet had done no damage to his shoulder bones and he’d be good as new in three weeks.

Kat had been treated at Balboa and released. She had taken a commercial nonstop flight from San Diego’s Lind-bergh Field the next morning. Murdock had her phone number and would contact her when he got to D.C. in a week or so.

He was helping Jaybird get the men on week-long passes, and the squad room was half-empty.

When the phone rang, he let it go four times, then figured Jaybird wasn’t around.

“Yes, Third Platoon.”

“Made it back, I hear.”

“Stroh, don’t you ever sleep?”

“It’s the middle of the day. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Hi, Stroh.”

“Oh, the President is as happy as a mud turtle in a hen house. Says the Iranians are mad as hell, but can’t figure out who to blame. They couldn’t nail down whose jets or chopper invaded their sovereign airspace and soil, but they won’t openly admit they were working on nuclear bombs. Our experts say they can’t get anything built now for at least three years. Everyone will watch what they sell to Iran that could be used in a nuke.”

“Good. Tell the President to remember me when I go up for my next stripe.”

“You, full Commander? Then they wouldn’t let you go out to play with the dangerous toys.”

“Sure they would. I’ve seen some three-stripers in the field.”

“Not much anymore. At least not working your special gig. Hey, I was just wondering what you know about the New Russian Navy.”

“Not a damned thing, and I don’t want to know. I’ve got a month’s leave coming and I’m taking it. As a wise person told me in the middle of that country over there. ‘First we survive, then we find a life.’ I’m going to take a shot at finding a life. And Stroh. Don’t call me. You’ll probably know where I am, but unless the President has a serious health problem, or the moon spins out of orbit, don’t call me.”

“Yeah, sure, big guy. Like always. You stop by and see
me when you’re in D.C., and say hello to that sweet little girl, Ardith.”

“Good-bye, Don.”

“Good-bye, Murdock.”

Ed DeWitt had been back from Iran for over a week now. For the last four days he hadn’t even thought about the SEALs. It was new territory for him. He had taken a two-week leave. He and Milly were on what they called a pre-honeymoon. They drove up the long California coast toward Oregon, stopping at every small town and village. They shopped, and ate all sorts of unusual foods, bartered with the natives, and chilled out on the scenery and good company.

Now they lay on lounges watching the Pacific pound against the shore at Cannon Beach, Oregon. The sun had just rimmed the horizon and sparkled a hundred shades of pink, deep reds, and purples into the generous spread of Oregon clouds.

“I may never go back,” DeWitt said, sipping a cold beer.

Milly grinned. “Says who? We’ve got one more week. In about five days you’ll get up and scan the international headlines. You’ll call the quarter deck once a day to see what’s going on in Third Platoon. You’ll worry about how Fred Washington’s shoulder is healing.”

She sipped at her beer. “Hey, Ed. I wouldn’t want it any other way. If you didn’t do those things, you wouldn’t be you. I fell in love with the real you. In spite of all the damned drawbacks—the danger, the outrageous things they ask you guys to do—I guess I wouldn’t have that any other way as well.”

“Woman, you make a lot of sense. Now rub my back.”

She did. “I had the idea to rub you somewhere else.”

“Not out here.”

They hadn’t talked about Kat. Milly kept rubbing his back, then massaged his shoulders.

“Tell me about Kat. How did she do?”

“Like one of the guys, honest. She was a lady, who killed at least three of them. She probably saved the lives of one or two of Murdock’s squad when three guys came up behind them. She heard them, turned, and cut down two of them with her submachine gun. The third one ran.”

“That’s enough. I don’t want you to tell me so much you’ll have to kill me. I’m glad she did well. Terribly happy that she didn’t mess up and somebody else got killed. End of talk.”

She stood and caught his hand. “Now, inside where there’s a little privacy. I have something else I want to talk with you about. Body talk I guess you’d call it.”

Ed DeWitt grinned. “Yeah, let’s call it that.”