“Chris, come in,” Murdock said. The man was six-four, maybe 240 pounds, and grinned like a big teddy bear. He had a whiteside haircut with brown hair almost long enough to comb. His face was square-cut, and he’d have a five o’clock shadow by noon. His clear green eyes took in the office in a glance. “Take the hot seat there and we’ll have a talk,” Murdock said. “How are things over at the First Platoon? That would be Charlie Brashears as the CO?”
“Right. He said to say hello. You two go way back, he said.”
“Known Charlie a long time. Chris, I’m Murdock and this is Ed DeWitt, recently promoted and moving up to a platoon of his own. His feet aren’t too big, but when it comes to filling his shoes, it’s going to take a damned good man.”
“Lieutenant,” Chris said, nodding at Ed. “I’ve heard about what you guys do over here and I’m amazed. Your platoon gets twenty missions to our one. And then we usually dig out some harbor mines or maybe help train some recruits in Africa. Truth is, nobody has shot at me since BUD/S. Not that I’m anxious to get some lead in my hide. Just a fact you need to know.”
“So, why do you want to be in the Third?”
“I figure I trained to do certain things, and I’m not doing them. No fire missions, no rescues, no work like you guys did on the Chinese invasion and on the Philippine kidnappings. Those two we know about. That’s what I trained to do, and I feel like a slacker when I’m not in the mix on them.”
Murdock looked at Ed and nodded. “Chris, we’ve been over your file, and frankly, we like what we see there. You’re Annapolis. But you must know that SEALs is not an outfit that will give you a good career path to admiral.”
“Yep, I know that.”
“Did your father tell you that?” Ed asked.
“The admiral has strong feelings about almost everything. He loves the SEALs. Actually they pulled his ass out of the fire once. But he didn’t want me involved because it isn’t blue-water sailing, and as you said, not a fast track to admiral.”
“Is your father still on active duty?”
“Yes, sir. He was Navy air, and now he’s captain of a carrier.”
“I understand that you’re married, Chris.”
“Right. Been married now for almost three years.”
“SEAL scheduling and sea tours haven’t hurt your marriage?” Ed asked.
“Sure, some, but Wanda is an understanding woman with a career of her own. No kids yet. Waiting a few more years.”
“What does she do?” Murdock asked.
“She has her own small sport clothes design and manufacturing firm here in town. Fabricates the clothes in Tijuana, part of that new across-the-border deal with Mexico.”
“Successful?” Ed asked.
Chris laughed. “Oh, yes, sir. Last year her gross income for the business was a little over twelve million dollars.”
“Just about as much as a JG makes,” Murdock said. They laughed.
“It doesn’t bother me that she makes a lot more money than I do. She earns it. She’s excellent at designing and has a great head for business.”
They talked for another half hour. Murdock sensed it quickly, an immediate bonding with the young man. A meshing of purpose, ideals, and style. It had happened a few times before. An immediate rapport, both on the same wavelength.
Murdock looked at DeWitt and gave a small nod. DeWitt grinned. “About what I was going to say, Commander.”
Murdock stood and held out his hand. “Chris, you’re our man. I’ll have the master chief put through the paper today. He’ll tell you when to report, but probably tomorrow morning. You better get your desk cleaned out and your gear turned in.”
“Hey, good, great.” Chris seemed a little confused. “But the master chief told me there were three men to be interviewed.”
“True, Chris,” Murdock said. “I know the other one and he doesn’t stand a chance after we’ve talked with you. Now get out of here and get your papers put through.”
Chris grinned. “Hey, absolutely right. I can do that, Commander.” He shook his head. “Damn, I’m really gonna be here with the Third. Wait until I tell Wanda. We’re going to celebrate tonight.” He stood, came to a braced attention, and snapped a salute. “Request permission to leave the Third Platoon area, sir.”
Murdock grinned and returned the salute. “Permission granted, Sailor. Get back here as soon as you can.”
When Chris left, Ed DeWitt dropped into the chair he had sat in so often and stretched out his feet. He rubbed his wounded leg and nodded. “Oh, yes, Murdock. I think that you’ve caught yourself a good one.”
Murdock frowned. “Yeah, but not as good as the one I’m losing. What do we do to integrate him into the squad as fast as possible? Like we needed him here yesterday?”
DeWitt rubbed his nose, as he often did when he was thinking. “Okay, I’m with you here for two weeks yet. Let’s go to the desert for four days, see what this young man is made of. It’ll also sharpen up the men and get them back in fighting trim. We also need a new man for Chris’s squad. Do you have some candidates?”
“Master Chief sent me over ten who had requests on file. I looked them over and cut out three. First order of business tomorrow morning when Chris comes back will be to help him pick a new man for his squad. Introduce him to the men in Bravo. Let him see physically who he has to work with. Then we’ll see where we go from there.”
“Sounds good from here, oh, wise leader of men,” Ed said, cracking a grin.
“How does your new outfit look?”
“Good old Second Platoon of Five. Yeah, I’ve met them. Don’t know squat about them yet. I like the JG there, so that’s a plus. Just have to see how it works out. I won’t transfer anyone out unless I absolutely have to. I have the option, if I’m sure I can’t work with any of the men I inherit.”
Murdock laughed and put his feet up on the desk, then leaned back in the chair. “DeWitt, you’re used to a bunch of oddballs here in the Third. You’ll be able to work with almost anybody. They all are SEALs, so you know they’ve been through a lot just to get into the Team.”
“Yeah, yeah, I keep telling myself that. Just have to wait and see. What do you think about the four-day trip to the desert?”
“Sounds like a lot of work, sleeping on those sandy rocks and getting up double-dog-tired. I love it. We’ll work out a training sked that will put Chris in the driver’s seat all the way. See how he does.”
The next morning Lieutenant (j.g.) Chris Gardner leaned against the office door to Third Platoon when Murdock arrived at 0730.
“Couldn’t sleep, Lieutenant?”
“Like a billy goat, Commander. Didn’t want to be late my first day on the job.”
Murdock shook his hand. “Good to have you on board. This time of day we have to make our own coffee. You any good at it?”
“Not the best, sir.”
“Tough. I’ll do it.” As he made the coffee, Murdock told Chris about the work for the day.
“So, I’ve got seven personnel folders over there on my desk. Look through them and see if you want one of them for your squad. Pick three to interview. As soon as the men get here, you’ll meet the rest of Bravo Squad to see what you have to work with.”
“Aye, aye, Commander.”
Ed DeWitt came in about 0800, and the three of them interviewed three men that morning. All had volunteered for Third Platoon and all were from other platoons on the base.
“So, which man do you like?” Murdock asked. “It’s up to you. He’ll be your responsibility, your input to the squad.”
“I’m going with the little guy, Rafii. I just like the way he comes across. He’s from Saudi Arabia, speaks Arabic and Farsi like a native. Came here when he was four with his parents. Omar Rafii. He’s a knife man. I bet you’ve had times when a silent kill with a knife from fifteen feet would be a bonus. If there are no objections, I’ll tell the master chief to get Rafii’s tail over here.”