Tropical Terror

30

Murdock eased into his parking slot at the apartment complex less than a mile from the quarterdeck and let a small groan slip out. He had tried to shift the car into park with his right hand the way he always did.

The knifing pain in his shoulder stopped him. He reached through the steering wheel with his left hand, shifted into park, and put on the safety club. With an effort he held it in place with his right hand and spread it apart with his left. So damn much trouble. He eased out of the car, closed the door with his left hand, and zapped the locks on with the button on his key ring, again with his left hand. Too damn much trouble.

He looked up and saw Ardith waiting for him on the small balcony/porch in front of his second-floor unit. It wasn’t large. He was there only a third of the time. He ran up the steps, and pulled her inside and kissed her thoroughly.

“Oh, my, now that’s what I call a welcome to California,” she said.

“That’s only a fraction of the welcome you’re going to get.”

“Good. Right here?”

He led her into the bedroom and opened the buttons of her pure white blouse.

“What about your shoulder? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“We’ll figure out a way that won’t hurt.”

They did.

Later, they went back to the living room and stared at the small blaze she’d built in the fireplace.

“I’m interested. How did you know when I was released?”

“Would you believe I guessed?” She let her long blond hair swing outward around her face, then fall until it nearly covered her bare breasts.

“No. Not a chance.”

“So I called a friend out here and asked him to call me when you hit the bricks. He did.”

“Navy, he’d have to be Navy, and a medical man. Which one?”

“Your surgeon. He’s a lieutenant commander. I promised him that I’d take a quick look at the promotion list to see if he made commander. He did. I told him. He called me. I flew.”

They made love again, then watched the fire, and then simply looked at each other. Their desire grew and multiplied until he laughed softly and lay on the rug on his back.

“This way it can’t hurt my shoulder at all.”

She moved on top of him and positioned herself, then thrust forward and down. Her passion made her face even more beautiful. “Lover Blake. At the moment your shoulder is not the part of you I’m most interested in.”

At 2330 they called for Chinese food. Three restaurants didn’t deliver that late. They settled for two small pizzas topped with sausage, pineapple, and ham.

“Did you sign yourself out for a seven-day liberty?”

“Can’t until tomorrow when DeWitt comes back. Did I tell you what a great job he did in Hawaii after I had my small problem?”

Ardith touched his shoulder tenderly. “You call this a small problem? If it doesn’t heal right it could knock you off the SEAL field teams roster. Doesn’t that bother you?”

He wiped his left hand slowly over his face. A long sigh came from Murdock and he kissed her cheek. “Yes, it bothers me. It bothers me more than anything has in the past five years. It scares the hell out of me.”

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled his head down to cushion on her breasts. “Have you thought about crying?”

He looked up at her and frowned. “Woman, there ain’t no such thing as crying in the SEALs. You know that.”

“I won’t tell.”

“Better not. I cry when one of my men dies. That’s the time for crying. That’s off-line, off the record, not available for comment. This isn’t something I cry about. I worry. I wonder. I wish like hell it never happened.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Nothing to tell. We had most of them captured or dead on top of the mountain at a rustic-challenge type of camp. Three of us headed across an open space aiming for the tents where we figured the Chinese held the hostages. It was dark and I felt fairly secure. Then some slant-eyed little fucking bastard blasted away from the shadows and cut me down. I tried to bring up my weapon, but my right arm didn’t work right. I never saw the Chink shit-eater who shot me.”

“That’s a good start. What would it mean if you couldn’t stay in the Third Platoon?”

“Cut my heart out. It’s more now than just the SEALs. It’s this connection with the CIA and the CNO, the top man in the whole damn Navy, and that phone call that comes sometimes from the President himself saying, ‘Good job, SEALs.’ It’s a surge of marvelous feeling that puts my best climax to shame. It’s a high that cocaine can’t touch. It’s a rush like no man has ever felt before.

“Knowing that we’re out there on the cutting edge of American policy and enforcement and the covert jobs we go on. It’s knowing all those state secrets nobody else knows about, and the jobs that we do and never get credit for, and we say, ‘So what? Who gives a damn? We were there. We did it. We made a huge difference in the history of the United States and of the whole damn world.’ ”

He sat up and stared at her. “What the hell am I doing? I’ve never put how I felt about this outfit into words before. Am I too damn late? Is it all over but the medics pinning a red badge on my fitness file?”

She bent forward and kissed his lips so tenderly that he barely felt it. It was the brush of a butterfly’s wings.

“This is good, talking it out. Hey, my gut feeling is that your shoulder is going to heal just fine. The doctor I talked with said that an injury like yours is similar to a rotator-cuff problem. Only, here your tendon was not torn apart. Which means it has an even better chance of getting back to full use, and full-charge-ahead SEAL work.”

He put his left hand on her flat naked belly. “Woman, I hope to hell that your gut feeling is right. I don’t even have those kinds of feelings yet. Maybe after a month. I have this damn sling for another two weeks.”

“Which must mean that you don’t want your men to see you with the sling. Are you afraid that would help erode your command presence?”

“Could do some of that.”

“How many of the men currently in your platoon have been wounded in your missions?”

“Hell, most of them. Ed has. Maybe only two out of the sixteen haven’t been shot up here and there. Hey, I never thought of that.” He shook his head and took another long breath. “Okay, maybe the sling isn’t such a big deal.”

“Then Ed will take the men on their training runs and conditioning swims and other training, right?”

“He’ll damn well have to. I can’t.”

“It’s hard to accept, isn’t it?”

“What, smart lady from Washington, D.C.?”

“The fact that you’re wounded, probably worse than you ever have been before.”

“I think I understand that part of it after almost two weeks of pain.”

“You understand the fact of it, but do you accept the reality of it?”

“Hey, I’m no shrink. I just do the job.”

“Good. Right now your job, your only job, is to get that shoulder well so you can stay with the platoon.”

“Only job?”

“Absolutely, your only job. Otherwise you’re pushing a pencil somewhere in the non-field swamp that makes up the rest of the SEAL Team Seven.”

“I’ll be damned, woman. How can you be so beautiful and so smart at the same time?”

“I’ve been hanging out with a bunch of rowdy SEALs. That’s my only defense.”

“Sounds reasonable to me.”

They were still talking when the sun came up. Ardith sat up and stretched.

“Suppose it’s time we got to sleep?”

“Probably. Maybe just one small nap.”

They slept until noon.

Over a bacon and eggs and flapjack breakfast, Murdock called Master Chief MacKenzie. Before he could get in a word, the master chief was off.

“Commander, sir. Do you realize that you have almost three months of leave built up? You haven’t been taking your thirty days and it’s a shame.”

“Then why don’t your write me up for two weeks, Master Chief. Do the paperwork and sign it for me starting as of today. Tell DeWitt he has the con until I get back. Make it medical leave or whatever you want. I’ll see you in two weeks.”

“Yes, lad. That’s fine. My compliments to that nice lady Ardith Manchester. Oh, one small item. The JG asked me to tell you that he’s having the traditional fish fry tonight at his apartment recreation area. All SEALs of the Third are required to attend, except Jaybird. Any SEAL is entitled to bring one lady friend — wife or mistress, it doesn’t matter. He was hoping that you could make it, sir.”

Murdock grinned. Tradition? Since when. “Master Chief, you tell the JG that Ardith and I will be delighted to attend. I’ll bring an extra can of lighter fluid just to be sure he can get the charcoal started.”

“I’ll tell him that, Commander. Oh, one more small matter. Commander Masciarelli wants to see you. I told him you were on leave for a week or maybe two. He said some unkind words and hung up without saying gud’ay.”

“A shame, Master Chief. Looks like I’ll have to stop by and see the commander when I return.”

“Sounds about right.”

“See you tonight for fish?”

“Afraid not. My stomach, you know. I gave my regrets to the JG.”

“Thanks, Gordon.”

“You bet, Commander. See you when you get back.”