The talk went on until she checked her watch and they hurried the six blocks toward the Dobler house. Half a block before they came to the house, a big liquidambar tree shadowed the sidewalk from the streetlight nearby. They stopped in the darkness and kissed gently, then again with more feeling.
“Oh, oh, yes, but that is fine, Jaybird. But no more. You stay here until I get in the front door. When you call me, try to make it at five o’clock. Daddy isn’t home yet and Mom is getting dinner and I can usually answer the phone first.”
“Done,” Jaybird said, watching her walk away. What a fine little body, so neat, compact, so… just right. Jaybird turned to walk the mile and a half back to the apartment he shared with another SEAL.
Oh, yeah! Only now he had to major in sneaky. One slip and the senior chief would simply fillet him and hang his two slabs of meat out to dry in the California sun.
The next three days they had training exercises as if they were just off the boat and hitting BUD/S for the first time.
Jaybird’s dislocated shoulder had become strong again. He was second fastest on the OC rope climb. Canzoneri had full use of both his lungs now, and showed no ill effects from the last mission when he’d nearly drowned.
Ron Holt was still in Balboa Naval Hospital there in San Diego. They set up a schedule so at least one of the platoon went to see him every day they had enough time off. Usually it was in the evening. They all knew that Ron would never get back in the SEALs, not with his bad wound.
The next day Senior Chief Dobler interrupted their OC workout. The platoon gathered around him on the obstacle course. “We picked up some special duty. All right, I volunteered you. There’s a thirteen-year-old girl missing down on the strand. She’s been missing for four hours from a swim with her family. Her name is Janice and she’s the daughter of a SEAL, a guy in First Platoon. I know how this guy feels.
“I have a daughter, and if anything happened to her…” The senior chief looked away as his voice caught and he dabbed at his eyes. “Anyway. Any monster who attacks a thirteen-year-old girl should be eating his balls for lunch just before somebody empties a whole clip of 9mm rounds into his goddamned head. Yeah, I get emotional about this. My daughter Helen was missing for an hour once. She was with friends. Her mother and I almost went out of our minds. Hey, not so much of a problem now, she’s fifteen and damned responsible.
“Okay, give me a line of ducks. We move out to the start of the shoreline and go to a line of skirmishers, and we search every square inch of the sand and grass until we find her. Janice. Her name is Janice.”
Jaybird felt like somebody had kicked him in the head and then in the balls. He’d heard right. Senior Chief Dobler wouldn’t lie about something like that. Helen was fifteen years old. Oh, damn. How could he have missed it? She was still in high school. She didn’t have a driver’s license because she was too young. Oh, damn! He’d almost blown his whole career in the SEALs.
They jogged to the end of the sand, where the grass started along the strand, and spread out. He was near the highway and watched every blade of grass growing in the sand.
Jaybird shook his head in wonder. That was an almost. He would call her today or tomorrow at five o’clock and ease out of their little innocent affair. Friends. Yes, they could still be friends, but not kissing friends. He valued his head too much for that.
The platoon worked the rest of the afternoon. They searched their side of the road, then the other side. They sloshed along knee-deep in the edge of San Diego Bay on the other side of the strand, watching the water. Nothing.
Dobler led them back to the platoon area about 1730. Master Chief Gordon MacKenzie met them.
“Thanks for your good work, lads. We have a happy ending. The girl has just been found. She’s been with a young lady friend. The girls thought they told Janice’s mother, but evidently not. She’s well and safe, and the family thanks you one and all.”
That night Jaybird stayed home, watched TV, and read a thriller about a biological weapon attack on New York City.
In his apartment, that same night, Murdock tried to be patient. “Yes, yes, big-city girl. You can buy salsa in a half-dozen different types. But none of it is as good as the special Murdock Salsa. Watch and learn, young lady.”
Ardith Manchester leaned over the table, knowing full well what it did to the neckline of her silk blouse. Murdock saw the sagging silk material and the two marvelous revelations behind it, and chuckled.
He kissed her gently. “Lady Ardith. If you ever want to have the fabulous Mexican feast I’m fixing, you’ll have to restrain yourself.
“Salsa, for instance. First I chop up these dead ripe tomatoes into quarter-inch chunks. Then I do the same with half a medium green bell pepper. No, you don’t need to use jalapeno peppers for good salsa. Next I add an equal amount of chopped onions. Same as the tomatoes. Next a pair of pinches of finely ground black pepper, a half-teaspoon of salt, and a teaspoon of grated lemon peel. Then we top it off with two tablespoons of lemon juice. Mix well and let sit for ten minutes to blend. Then you have Murdock Salsa.”
“What about the cilantro,” Ardith asked.
“Hate the stuff. Tastes like sinkhole water. Now test this with some absolutely plain taco strips.”
She dipped one in, captured the lumps of tomato and onion, and ate it. “Yes, good. I’ll take a gallon. Now, I had a talk with Don Stroh today. He’s all excited about a new mission coming up, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was.
“I talked with my dad, and then your dad, and we have an idea what it might be. They know what’s hot out there right now.”
Murdock pushed a loaded taco into her mouth.
“Stop, stop. I don’t want to hear about it. I’m off duty now. I just want to play house with this beautiful lady I lured up here with my salsa. Do you think it’s going to work?”
Ardith unbuttoned the silk blouse. She wore nothing under it. “I don’t know about the salsa. Maybe the burritos you told me about would do it. In the meantime, between courses, let’s see what else we can become involved with.”
Murdock smiled, then chuckled as the blouse hit the floor. “Oh, yes, I do enjoy the negotiations. My first suggestion is that we move from the kitchen down a ways to that next door, the one with the king-sized bed right behind it.”
Later, Ardith Manchester decided she loved the bean burritos almost as much as the Murdock Salsa.
SEAL TALK
MILITARY GLOSSARY
Aalvin: Small U.S. two-man submarine.
Admin: Short for administration.
Aegis: Advanced Naval air defense radar system.
AH-1W Super Cobra: Has M179 undernose turret with 20mm Gatling gun.
AK-47: 7.63-round Russian Kalashnikov automatic rifle. Most widely used assault rifle in the world.
AK-74: New, improved version of the Kalashnikov. Fires the 5 .45mm round. Has 30-round magazine. Rate of fire: 600 rounds per minute. Many slight variations made for many different nations.
AN/PRC-117D: Radio, also called SATCOM. Works with Milstar satellite in 22,300-mile equatorial orbit for instant worldwide radio, voice, or video communications. Size: 15 inches high, 3 inches wide, 3 inches deep. Weighs 15 pounds. Microphone and voice output. Has encrypter, capable of burst transmissions of less than a second.
AN/PUS-7: Night-Vision Goggles. Weighs 1.5 pounds.
ANVIS-6: Night-Vision Goggles on air crewmen’s helmets.