They caught up with the gurney at an elevator, and Murdock saw the doctor taking Victor’s vitals as they went into the lift.
Two hours and three cups of coffee later, Murdock still waited in a small compartment off the operating rooms. He stood and paced the area again, and then looked up as a man in scrubs and a mask came out of the OR.
“Commander?”
“Yes, how is my boy?”
“He’s in pretty bad shape, but he’s past the critical stage and he’s going to make it, unless something we can’t see now develops. The round he took in the chest shattered on a bone and did all sorts of damage. One small fragment went into his heart. We retrieved that with no real damage. His lungs caught most of it. But we’re satisfied with what we did in there. The round to his throat was the easiest. It went through the fleshy part of the neck, missing the vital veins and arteries and his spinal column. We’ll need to keep him here for at least two weeks. You from San Diego?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then when he’s ready to travel, we’ll send him by air to Balboa Hospital.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“Entirely welcome.” He paused. “You’re in Sierra Bijimi?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We don’t get many bullet wounds these days. We patched up two of your other men as well. A JG Gardner with a shot arm and an Omar Rafii. He had a grenade fragment in his leg. Dug it out and he’s on light duty for a week. Now, you need a bunk. I’ll have one of the men find you some quarters for the night.”
“One more thing, Doctor. I need to talk to your communications people. How do I do that?”
The doctor led him to a phone and dialed.
“Yes, sir, Communications,” came over the phone.
“This is Lieutenant Commander Murdock. Do you have SATCOM frequencies?”
“Sir, that would be the portable SATCOM units?”
“Yes. Can you send and receive to them?”
“If we had the right frequencies.”
Murdock gave him the numbers. “I just arrived on board on a medical emergency for one of my men. I need to report in to my CIA control on Sierra Bijimi where we are. Use that frequency and call for Don Stroh. Tell him we’re on board, all of us, and we have one serious wounded but he’s going to make it.”
“Sir, I should have some authorization.”
“Sailor, we’re the reason your whole damn task force came all the way down here. I’m sure if you want to wake up the captain, he can verify that I’m authorized to use the SATCOM frequencies. Why don’t you just go ahead and try to contact Stroh? I’ll stay on this phone while you try.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll try that. If I get burned I’m going to call on you for some backup.”
“I’ll be there, Sailor. Give Don Stroh a call.”
Murdock waited. He checked his watch. It took almost five minutes. Then the sailor was back on the line.
“Yes, sir, I made contact and gave him your message. He said he can get to sleep now. He said he’ll see you tomorrow, or later today. He was a little sleepy, sir.”
“Good. I’ll pass along a commendation to your boss. Right now I’m going to try to find a bunk.”
“Good night, sir.”
By that time it was 0528, and Murdock took an offered empty hospital room and dove onto the bed. He didn’t even take his boots off.
A nurse awoke him at 0900, and he growled at her.
“Commander, did you know that you’re officially lost? Nobody on board knew where you were. Lieutenant Gardner finally tracked you down. He says he’s scheduled a flight for 1300 and figures you and the men need another three hours of sleep. Shall I get you up at 1200?”
Murdock saw someone had spread a blanket over him. He tried to get his eyes open. They refused.
“Yes, ma’am, 1200 will be fine.” He was asleep again before she shut the door.
Murdock woke up by himself at 1130. Washed up, combed his hair, and had a quick breakfast at the dirty shirt mess. Then he tried to find his men. He didn’t even know who to ask. He shrugged and called the ship’s captain. He got a full commander, who laughed at Murdock’s question.
“You want to know where your fourteen SEALs and two Sierra Bijimi nationals are?”
“Yes, sir. We came in about 0300 and they were bunked down somewhere.”
“Commander, give me five minutes and I’ll find them. Call me back.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Murdock hung up and had another cup of coffee. He called back after four minutes by his countdown watch.
“Commander, we didn’t lose them after all. They were tucked into some transient bunks. Right now they are all on the flight deck waiting for you for their 1300 flight time in a Seahawk.”
“Thanks, sir, I appreciate it.” He went into the corridor, nailed the first enlisted man he saw, and had him act as a guide to take him to the flight deck. There a white shirt took him in tow and walked him down the long deck to the chopper operations center, where he found Third Platoon chomping away on box lunches.
“Saved you one,” Senior Chief Sadler said. “Did you know that you’ve been lost?”
20
The Seahawk arrived at the new village before noon, and Mahanani checked out the two wounded. JG Gardner’s right arm was responding to the treatment. The carrier doctors had said the bone had not been damaged, and had taken off the splint. It should heal completely in two to three weeks. Until then, no rope-climbing or arm exercises like push-ups or pull-ups. Omar Rafii’s shrapnel wound in the leg was not serious. He limped a little, but could keep up on anything but a twenty-mile hike.
Mojombo had been organizing the village. It now had a council and a mayor. They sent a delegation with Mojombo and six soldiers to the next village downstream, Salal, where there were over two thousand people. It was another ten miles downstream where a good-sized river had carved out a small valley used for growing vegetables. Mojombo would be back by nightfall.
“What are we going to do?” Senior Chief Sadler asked.
Murdock motioned to Vinnie Van Dyke. “Go find our guide from last night, Tehabo. Tell him to hang with us from now on.”
“What will we do?” Sadler asked again. “Plan out the next hit on a police station? If we do it, we’ll be ready.”
“Next time we need to keep the chopper farther from the city,” JG Gardner said. “Somebody heard it and reported it. The nearest police station was ready. Almost cost us a KIA.”
“Agree,” Murdock said. “When Tehabo gets here we’ll figure out the next two stations to hit. Until then double-check and clean your weapons and work over your gear. After we have some native chow, we’ll take a hike. Anybody having trouble with the food? We can always go to MREs.”
“What’s not to like?” Jaybird asked. “Lots of vegetables, some chicken, and now and then some delicious dog roast.”
Three of the SEALs pretended to throw up.
The Vice President and Stroh joined the group. “Nothing new from Washington,” the Veep said. “Not a thing the U.S. can do on the demands until the U.N. acts, and they haven’t even scheduled an emergency meeting on it. The kidnapping and demands may be put down to public relations and attracting worldwide coverage for Mojombo’s cause.”
“What kind of defense has Mojombo put up around here?” Murdock asked.
Stroh shook his head. “Not much. He figures his outposts downriver will be able to give adequate warning. Looks like his plan is to fade into the jungle with his fighting men. He says not even the federal Army would slaughter the villagers.”
“He does have outposts down the river trail then?” Murdock asked.