He checked the menu written out on a pad on the refrigerator door. They tried to specialize in healthy yet quick-to-fix meals. Tonight it was Spanish rice, a green salad, French cut green beans, and rolls. Whoever got home first always started dinner cooking. Sometimes it was murder for Milly to get across the Coronado Bay Bridge from San Diego. Tonight, DeWitt thought, must be one of those times. He had the Spanish rice simmering when Milly came in the door.
"Don't ask," she said, tossing her purse on the kitchen table and dropping into a chair. "Everything went wrong. I've never seen such a foul-up. I never get the little problems, just the ones nobody else knows how to fix."
He kissed her and put his arms around her, chair and all. "Bet you solved the problem in a rush. Hey, you have to earn the big bucks they pay you."
She sighed, and kissed him back. "I guess. Sometimes I just wish that I could stay home and raise babies. There, I said it. My nesting instincts are high right now." She gently moved his arms and went to the stove.
"Smells good. Spanish rice always is great the first day, but a bummer for warming up. I wonder why."
She turned. "Hey, I'm sorry. Me, me, me. So how was your day? How is that new civilian working out?"
"Need to talk to you about that." He led her back to a chair and pulled one up facing her. He sat down.
"Hey, you look serious. You proposing or something?"
"Something, yes. I never tell you much about what I'm doing, or where we go. I can't. This time I've got to. Top secret — not even your best friend can find out about this. Our civilian is from the AEC or some such group. This person is an expert at dismantling nuclear warheads and bombs. This person is a woman."
He stopped, and watched her. Milly frowned. "You mean the CIA is sending a woman with you on your next mission to dismantle some atomic warheads or bombs?"
"Exactly right."
"No woman can take all the physical punishment you guys go through. I've seen you black and blue with bruises from head to foot. I've watched your bones knit back together and changed bandages on your bullet wounds. They must be crazy sending a woman in with you."
"That's what we thought. The problem is the President said that this woman is going. We can't really get around an order from our Commander in Chief."
Milly eyed him seriously, then her face melded into a small frown. "Have you met this woman?"
"Yes, she's on base, began training this morning."
"I'm curious. What's she like?"
He gave a quick description of Kat.
"Yes, yes, but is she pretty? You said she was about thirty. Is she pretty?"
"Pretty? A vague term. She's attractive, fit, seems to have a good attitude. Did I tell you she's a Ph.D. in nuclear physics?"
"No. How can she hold up on your long marches, your swims? Can she parachute?"
"She won the second Hawaiian Iron-Man woman's triathlon — the swim, bike riding, and marathon. Yes, she's fit and strong."
"I just don't understand why they would pick a woman for this job."
"Evidently she was the best person to get the work done."
"So you got the job of training her in SEAL techniques."
"Afraid so. We were on the small arms range this morning. We ran both ways, six miles round trip. She never faltered."
Tears welled in Milly's eyes. They spilled over. "You want me to move out?"
"Milly, of course not, Why on earth would I want that? She's not personal. It's my job to train her well enough so we can get her to the target. After her work is done, she has to be able to get out of there with us, and not be such a liability that half the platoon gets killed." Milly began sobbing, and reached out and clung to him. "Oh, God, not that. I pray every time you leave me. I know you're doing something important for our country but it's so dangerous. I don't sleep much while you're gone. Did I ever tell you that? I'm not sure if I eat anything. I always lose about ten pounds when you're gone. Oh, damn, I wasn't ever going to tell you that."
"I didn't know." He took her in his arms and held her. After a while, she stopped crying.
"I'll be putting in some extra time. It's my job to teach her how to shoot our weapons, show her what we do, and how we do it. If I do my job right, then she won't cause any of us to get wounded or worse. Yes, we'll be baby-sitting her, but unexpected things always happen. If she can defend herself, so much the better."
"She, she. Does this woman have a name?"
"Katherine Garnet. She has the temporary rank of full lieutenant and she said to call her Kat."
"How nice." Milly sniffed. "I'm sorry, Ed, I didn't mean to sound so snide. She's probably a fine person. I want you to invite her over to dinner tomorrow night. If you aren't having any kind of night drills."
"I'll arrange it. Yes, good idea. I think you'll like Kat. Now, I think your marvelous dinner is ready. May I seat you at the table and serve you?"
As they ate, they talked about her work, and the new theater season coming up. All the while DeWitt remembered what she had said about losing ten pounds while he was gone. She shouldn't do that. But who could they trust? Then he remembered one of the men in his squad, Fernandez, who lived with a woman in Coronado. He'd talked to him. Maybe the two women could get together when the platoon was on a mission. He'd never met the woman. They would have one huge thing in common. It might just work. He'd talk to Fernandez in the morning.
That night, Milly clung to him. She had slipped into bed beside him without wearing her usual nightgown. She kissed him, and put his hands on her, and whispered in his ear.
"We're going to make love every night from now until you leave."
Ed laughed softly. "We're not shipping out for a month yet."
Milly nodded. "Good, I'll keep you so worn out you won't even know that Kat is a woman. She'll just be another one of the guys you have to train. Now, roll over. I want to be on top the first time tonight."
9
George Imhoff had struggled with his decision for three hours, as he went from one small cafe to another, nibbling at rolls and drinking the bitter tea. There was no other way. He had used up his best prospects. The British student he was supposed to see that afternoon might be hard to find now.
He worked his way slowly to the right street and paused in the shadows for five minutes watching it and the surrounding half-block area. Nothing moved. No one walked or rode by. Only one light showed in the whole area. He moved cautiously to the front of the small building and found the gate where it was supposed to be. It was unlatched. He pushed it inward.
Nothing happened.
He darted quickly through the opening and closed the wooden gate. A walkway led to the rear of the structure. It had two stories. The front of it was some kind of a retail store with windows covered by wooden panels locked in place. Trust your fellow man and he will trust you.
Right.
George found the rear door and knocked on it three times. He expected no reaction. Picking the lock would do no good. Everyone in this part of the world used locks with steel bars on the inside as well.
To his surprise the door opened a crack, and a small voice asked him a question. He caught only one word and that didn't make sense. He used the code word with hesitation. "Armageddon," he said. There was a pause, then a sucked-in breath. "Just a moment," the voice said in English. He heard movement inside, then the door opened more. "Not if we can prevent it," the countersign came.
"Thank God," George said. The door opened to a dimly lit interior.