They began hiking north. The chogie straps cut into their shoulders, but they simply bent over more and endured. You weren't really a SEAL if you weren't in pain somewhere. They had to detour around the shear cliff in front of them, but found a canyon leading up a quarter of a klick to the left.
Douglas took a bearing on a star, and kept it as his guidepost. By the time they had climbed up halfway on the hill in front of them, they could spot the dark blotch of the saddle mountain where it blotted out the stars in silhouette.
"Only five miles forward," Douglas said. "That doesn't count another six to ten straight up, and straight down."
They stopped after an hour for a breather. They had been up and down four smaller hills, and still the saddle mountain seemed as far away as when they started.
"A mountain always looks closer than it really is when you're sighting across a bunch of other hills and empty space," Franklin said. "That's what my Boy Scout Scoutmaster always used to tell us."
"You believed him?"
"I was ten, what did I know? Yeah, I believed him. I still do. We might not get onto that saddle before daylight."
"Bet you a case of beer we do," Douglas said. "You're on, sucker. I'd like some of that German beer."
"That'll be the day. Let's haul ass."
19
The dinner party had progressed well. Ed DeWitt had asked Kat to come to his house for dinner with him and his lady friend, Milly.
"Frankly, Kat, she wants to meet you. She's a little jealous, and wants to be sure you don't have real claws."
Kat had understood at once, but said she'd come only if they had Murdock along as a kind of buffer person. It had worked out.
Now they sat around the dinner table scraping up the last of a delicious cherry pie A la mode.
"Cherry pie has been my favorite since I was a tomboy climbing trees in our backyard in the wilds of Virginia," Kat said.
Milly had taken a liking to this nuclear physicist at once. They had chatted in the kitchen while getting the last of the dinner ready for the table. Milly had seemed to understand at once that this pleasant woman with short brown hair and impressive credentials was no threat to her love for Ed. From there on the friendship grew.
They pushed back from the table and went into the small living room.
"Don't worry about the dishes," Milly said. "Our maid will clear, and take care of everything."
"Oh, yeah, by that she means me," Ed said. They all laughed.
"Let's just talk," Milly said. "We got off to a good start in the kitchen. I understand you showed up a few of our vaunted SEALs on one of the open-ocean swims."
"The guys aren't used to competitive swimming," Kat said. "if it's just an exercise, I tend to go out a little faster then the rest of the platoon."
"Yeah," Murdock said. "Then she stretches her lead in the middle part, and churns home so fast we can't even see her wake."
"Only part true," Kat said, smiling. "When we're in a combat situation, I'll keep my stroke exactly on sched. Hey, you've drilled that into my brain."
"You better," DeWitt said. "Or we'll let you swim the twenty miles out to the carrier." They all laughed again.
Milly leaned back and relaxed. It was so clear to her now. Kat was indeed "one of the guys." She had an extremely difficult job to do once they got to the target, but she had to be able to endure a lot of tough physical activity before they got there. Ed had told her that Kat had to be able to fire her weapon to protect her own life, and the lives of the rest of the platoon. Now Milly totally understood.
"Are we ready to drop in on Iran?" DeWitt asked. He looked at Kat.
"I don't know about you, but I feel ready. I know the routines. True, I'm not sure how I'll function when the bad guys start shooting real bullets at me, but, I think I can pass muster. Am I ready to blend in and be an integral, functioning part of the platoon? You'll have to ask Murdock that."
They looked at him. He scowled for a moment, then did the old Jack Benny motion with his arms folded and a curious look on his face. "I'm thinking, I'm thinking." They broke up.
When the laughter simmered down, he nodded. "Yes, I'd like to have two more weeks for platoon-size drills, but if we get the word to fly out tomorrow, I won't be the least bit hesitant to ship Kat and her submachine gun right along with us."
"Oh, thank god, no more sixty-mile hikes," Kat said. They laughed again.
The phone rang. Milly picked it up. "This is the DeWitt residence." She listened for a minute, then smiled. "Yes. Yes, just a second."
She held the phone to Murdock. "Someone wants to talk to YOU."
"Our orders from Don Stroh?" DeWitt asked.
Murdock lifted his brows, and then took the phone. "Murdock here." He listened for a moment, then smiled. "Yes, I think I can arrange that. The Del in ten minutes." He handed the phone to Milly.
"Duty calls," he said, straight-faced. "Did I tell you about my friend in Washington, D.C.?"
"Yes. Ardith, I think her name was," DeWitt said.
"Like I say, duty calls. I'll see you sailors in the morning." He grabbed his hat and headed for the door.
It took Murdock only seven minutes to get to the Del Coronado Hotel and park in the far lot. He wore his off-duty favorites — blue jeans and a Western shirt. As soon as he came into the big Hotel Del lobby, he saw her. For just a moment he paused, watching her, remembering those fine times in Washington, D.C.
She stood in a pose that had to come from years of ballet training straight and tall, feet placed just so; long, golden hair swept down across her shoulders. She turned and saw him. The best smile he'd ever seen brightened her already pretty face. High cheekbones accented her face under the mischievous light blue eyes that could always keep him guessing.
She turned and hurried toward him, reminding him of a prima ballerina moving across to stage left for her solo number. Instead of a tutu she wore a frilly white blouse and a brown skirt showing off just enough of her svelte figure to be interesting.
"Did I surprise you?" she asked, as he caught her shoulders for a quick kiss on her ready lips. He pulled away, and smiled.
"You surprised me, and I can't think of a better one."
"I'm glad. I hear you might be going on a long trip. Wanted to get here before you left."
His face clouded for a moment as what she said registered fully. "Damnit, why doesn't somebody just put a story on the front page of the Washington Post?" He relented at once. "Sorry, not more than half a dozen people know about this. Who was your source?"
"Do I have to tell?"
"Absolutely. I might need to kick some tail. It wasn't my dad, was it?"
"No, nor my father."
"So, who?"
"Let me tell you later. The elevator is right over here."
"Elevator?"
"Why don't we stay here? If we go to your place, I'll have to prove what a lousy cook I am. Here I can fake it."
Murdock laughed and caught her arm. "Lead on, MacDuff." She shook her head. "That should be, 'Lay on, MacDuff.'"
Murdock guffawed. "Hey, I thought that part came later." She punched his shoulder, and they walked into the elevator.
In her room, Murdock kicked the door closed, and she moved into his arms for a long kiss. It was a full-body-pressure kind, with them pressed together from hips to lips. Their mouths opened, and they explored dark passages. At last they broke apart.
"Oh, yes, Blake. Now, that was worth waiting for."