When Murdock figured they were far enough, he had each man take out a signal stick, break it to start it glowing, and hold it up as high as he could and still tread water.
Trent-Jones stayed near Murdock.
“This is a bit cold, isn’t it? But better than waiting on the beach. Were those the Palestinian Authority sirens we heard?”
“Probably. They held off long enough so the danger had passed. They don’t like to get involved, I’ve been told.”
“Hear something coming,” Lam shouted. The rest of them listened, but it was a full minute before Jaybird let out a yell. “Starboard about two hundred,” he bellowed. They all waved their light sticks.
“Be a damn shame if this is a Palestinian patrol boat,” Jaybird yelped. “Hope to hell they don’t have any out tonight.”
Two minutes later they recognized the Israeli patrol boat, and it cut power and slid up to them through the calm Mediterranean. Once aboard, Murdock asked about the SAS boat.
“The report we have is that it capsized on a rough wave near shore and went down. The other patrol boat heard their Mayday and rescued twenty of the SAS men out of the water and the three crewmen. Five were found on the beach by a search party including the one with the broken leg. Four of the SAS men are missing and presumed drowned.”
Trent-Jones slumped in his seat in the cabin. “Four of my men gone. How could it happen? We train in small boats. We dump boats and know what to do.”
The Israeli patrol boat captain looked at the notes he had taken on the radio transmissions. “One explanation I heard is that two of the men may have been trapped belowdecks and couldn’t get out. The other two could have been knocked unconscious when the craft went upside down, and drowned.”
“We lose anyone else on the operation?” Murdock asked. “The Israeli underwater men?”
“All accounted for, Commander.”
“Then we missed the other three house targets,” Trent-Jones said. “I don’t even know where they were. The SEALs took down three of them; at least we did that much.”
For Murdock the twenty-mile boat ride was a long one. He was feeling the British SAS man’s loss, his pain at the way he and his men had fared in the attack. They had been lucky to lose only four men. Could have been the rough wave caught the boat broadside when it was turning for the run to the beach. Long damn ride.
Murdock was exhausted by the time they hit the dock at Ashdod. Then came the wait in the cold wet cammies for the chopper ride up the coast to Tel Aviv. By the time they were back in their quarters at the Army base, the sun was starting to shatter the blackness of night. Murdock couldn’t get out of his mind the look on the SAS man’s face when the lieutenant learned he had lost four men. That man’s agony would be with Murdock for a long time.
12
Most of the SEALs slept in until 1400 that afternoon. Don Stroh had been around twice, and the third time he found Murdock up, dressed, and hungry.
“Breakfast at two in the afternoon?” Stroh asked. His round face had darkened a little lately from sunshine duty. His hair was thin and brownish, over ears that were too big for his head. Blue eyes danced as he escorted Murdock to the small officers’ club where they ate. Murdock had sausages and a stack of eight pancakes. Stroh had coffee.
“Reports are coming in from agents in Gaza City,” Stroh said.
Murdock went on eating.
“Good reports. Your team did a bang-up job last night.”
“Why we get the big bucks, Stroh.”
“Modesty won’t get you promoted, sailor.”
Murdock gave him the don’t-mess-with-me look, and Stroh chuckled.
“Always the tough SEAL. Like Arafat was just another walk in the park during business hours. Another day at the office. Well, your team totally demolished the Arafat GHQ. The word we’re getting is that there were thirty of the top leaders of the al Fatah and Tanzim groups in a conference in the building when the missiles hit. There are no known survivors. Four cooks and a group of guards are also listed as KIA.”
“We didn’t know about the conference. No Arafat?”
“He was supposed to be there, but was delayed by a malfunctioning aircraft somewhere.”
“Our group didn’t have much to do. The missiles took care of the matter rather well. We did nail three of the separate units.”
“Sorry about the SAS and their losing four men.”
“It’s a dangerous game we play. Usually some of the good guys get hurt. It just didn’t happen to be us this time.”
“The local command says there is no sense trying for the other three satellite buildings. Anyone who was there has been moved as of six A.M. this morning and all records taken with them. That’s a closed book. We take what we can get, which is about a ninety-percent completion of the mission.”
“So we’re released here and can go home?”
“No.”
Murdock scowled. “Just a plain unpregnant no? Why not? What more do they want from us? What are the new plans? Give me something more than just a two-letter answer.”
Stroh sighed and took a long draw on his coffee. He looked at Murdock over the rim of the cup. “I can’t tell you a lot more. You are on U.S. Navy TDY orders with an open end. The powers are interested in more than al Fatah. There are several more deadly groups around. This one was the easiest to take down, so it was first. My guess is that there will be three or four more hits. I don’t know if you SEALs will be involved in any or all of them. We wait and see.”
“Is that huge planning group going to be making the decisions?”
“Probably, but I’ve suggested that they cut it down to not more than ten people. Two from each of the three nations and four overhead from Israel. They might go for it.”
“Whatever, we’ll be here. I should get back for our after-mission debrief.”
He groused to himself on the way back to their quarters. Sure he loved this job, and he was doing something extremely worthwhile, but sometimes it was frustrating. The platoon could use some good solid teamwork training. He had new men, and they hadn’t been fully integrated into the procedures. Every man had to know instinctively what the man on his right and left would do in any firefight situation. That was the way they saved lives. That was the way they lived to be old SEALs who could muster out and flop around on the beach in the sun and not worry about anyone shooting at them.
Maybe after this current project, or three or four, from what Stroh had been hinting, they could get some time to themselves and spend it alone out in the California desert. Do some concentrated squad and platoon drills and firing sequences and realistic training. Some of the older hands were getting a little complacent. Murdock couldn’t put up with that because it would cost them a KIA on one of these shoots. He’d be damned if he was going to bury any more SEALs.
Senior Chief Sadler had the men working over their weapons and gear when Murdock came into the assembly room next to their quarters.
DeWitt nailed him when he came in the door. “So, does Brother Stroh have any good news for us? Like when we go home?”
“Not likely. Most likely we’ll get some more assignments while we’re here. Might as well tell everyone at once.”
Murdock called the men together and went over what Stroh had told him.
“So the nut of it is that we’re here, and we’ll be in more hits against some of the terrorist groups before we leave,” Murdock concluded. “We don’t know who or what or when, but we’ll be ready when it comes.”