"Anyone else?" Randall demanded. A second bike, chosen at random, sailed over the safety rail and hit the water with an oily splash.
The fight that followed was mercifully brief. O'Brien had expected that the submariners would get to join in… but ten seconds after the third biker crashed to the parking-lot pavement, five more were on the ground with them, unconscious or groaning, and the remaining four were in full flight down the street.
"Well," Scobey said, slapping a high five with Randall, "buy you guys a drink?"
"Absolutely, Big C," Randall replied. "After you?"
Laughing, the seven sailors entered the Ram and Ewe. "It's the Burghers!" the waitress cried.
"Hello, Carol."
"Roger!" She embraced him. "You're all right? I was so afraid when those animals walked out of here…."
"Never better. Let me introduce my friends…. "
Scobey and Douglas walked up to Macy, who was at the bar. "What do we owe you?" Douglas asked.
"Wha— huh?"
"We're the ones who were in here last month, and the place got kind of dinged up. We want to pay for the damages." Master Chief Warren had let them tap the enlisted man's fund aboard the Pittsburgh; it was important to maintain good relations with the civilian element ashore.
Macy licked his lips, looked tempted, then shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Insurance took care of it all, y'know?" Flashing lights pulsed outside the front windows. The police had shown up a few minutes after the sailors had gone inside, along with an ambulance. They were picking up the garbage left on the pavement outside, and not asking too many questions. COB, it turned out, had some friends with the Vallejo Police Department after all.
"I… ah… I gather the gangbangers aren't coming back?" Macy added.
"If they do, it'll be a mistake they won't forget," Scobey said. "Y'know, this used to be a pretty nice liberty hole," he added, looking around. "I think we can guarantee you a good weekend business. If you don't mind 'our kind' hanging around."
"Why should I mind? I love Navy guys! Hey! Carol! First round of drinks is on the house!"
The others cheered. "We'll even help you decorate if you like," Scobey told the owner.
Later, they sat at a table, hoisting filled glasses. Carol sat on Benson's lap, listening to the stories, and adding a few of her own. She seemed like a good sort, O'Brien thought. She and Benson made a great couple.
He was glad that Ben had decided to stick with the Silent Service.
"Here's to the Pittsburgh!" Scobey cried.
"Pittsburgh! "
"And to shipmates," Randall added, "old and new!"
"To shipmates."
SEALs and submariners.
It seemed an unbeatable combination.
EPILOGUE
She was gone.
Gordon had finally stopped roaming the empty house, finally accepted the fact that she was really gone. He'd returned to the living room, poured himself a drink, and sat now, trying to sort out his life. The hell of it was, Becca had left two days after Pittsburgh had sailed from Vallejo, taken the kids to Admiral Goldman's house, dropped them off, and left. The divorce papers were waiting when he returned.
Out of the blue. Out of the fucking blue….
She'd left word at the base, but Pittsburgh had been incommunicado at the time. It didn't matter. Even if she'd been able to send a Familygram, the base authorities might have censored it. They did that, in the case of bad news like a death in the family, so that a man's performance at sea wasn't adversely affected.
Admiral Goldman had been as shocked, as stunned as
Gordon was now. He was clearly torn between a desire to support his daughter, and his support for Gordon. What did you say at a time like this? What could you say?
He hadn't realized she'd hated Navy life so much. It was kind of obvious now. She'd been in the Navy, in a sense, all her life, growing up with Goldman as her father. Maybe she'd just reached a snapping point, been unable to face any more.
God, he was worried about her.
Had he been that bad a husband?
There weren't any answers, no easy ones, anyway. He'd known she'd been depressed, known how she hated his tours at sea. She'd needed him, and he'd let her down.
Was he willing to trade his command of a Los Angeles boat for her happiness?
What about his happiness?
Again, no easy answers. Married life was supposed to be a constant compromise, with each partner giving a hundred fifteen percent. But military service placed special demands on both partners.
Was it any wonder that so many military marriages ended in divorce?
Was it worth it? The duty… the sacrifice… all of it?
He'd taken an oath when he'd donned this uniform, to protect and uphold the Constitution of the United States. Duty… honor… and a fair measure of responsibility.
He'd brought all of the people in his charge home again… including young Tom Nelson's body. That was something.
Was it worth his marriage?
Well… maybe there was no point in making comparisons. He did know that for the past six weeks, there'd been two women in his life. One of them had left.
But he still had the Pittsburgh….
About the Author
H. JAY RIKER has written live books m his submarine warfare series, The Silent Service, and ten books in his bestselling military fiction series, SEALs, The Warrior Breed. Retired from the U.S. Navy, he has been writing fiction for more than a decade, and his novels have been highly praised for both their nail-biting action and remarkable authenticity.