Murdock jumped up and pounded his fist into the air like Tiger Woods when he sank a long put. “I’ve got it. I know how they did it now. I know where their GHQ is. Now all I have to do is prove to the brass that what I think is true.”
24
Murdock sailed into his small office at 0700 and at once began working on his laptop computer. He spelled it out the best he could by putting down the litany of what the North Koreans had done in chronological order. Then he made his conclusions.
“The North Koreans did nothing until we examined their underwater building near the oil-drilling rig near Santa Barbara. Only then did they launch their attacks.
“It seems to me that the underwater unit may be their hidden headquarters that launches and controls their attacks. I think that they use the oil rig for their antennas to keep in touch with their many units.
“It is my suggestion that an immediate investigation be made of the oil-drilling platform, checking for antennas, and that all radio traffic from the rig be monitored.
“I also suggest that we explore the best way to open up that sealed underwater building near the tower, and if we can do that, I feel that we will have stopped the attacks on our shores by the North Koreans.”
He went over the two pages three times, made changes and used the spell checker, then printed it out. He made four copies, put two in envelopes and addressed them, then took them at once to the Quarter Deck, where Master Chief MacKenzie looked at the sealed envelopes and lifted his brows.
“Something you’re not telling me, lad, sir.”
“Aye, that’s the lot of it, MacKenzie. And a good thing for now that you’re not knowing.” Both were deep into Scottish brogues.
“So, I’ll deliver this one in person to His Nibs the Commander.”
Murdock grinned. “Thanks, Gordon. I’ll get back to my important work.”
At his desk, the first thing Murdock did was to review the folder that showed a record of wounds received by platoon members. He’d looked up DeWitt’s for his chat with him. Now he studied the rest of the medical reports.
Bradford had had three serious wounds, but had bounced back. Franklin also had had three wounds, none serious. Ching had had four wounds, two serious. Lampedusa led the list with six wounds, two serious. It made Murdock consider taking Lam off point and removing him as his chief scout. Lam was the best in the platoon. But should he put the man at risk for another wound? Murdock could remember his own three wounds. The rotator cuff shot in his right shoulder had been the worst.
He added his in-and-out lower-right-arm wound on this mission and checked the rest of the men. None of the others had more than two wounds. Lam was the only one he was concerned about. He’d have a talk with the man and see if he wanted to let someone else take the point.
Then Murdock looked at the package that had come while they were away. He tore it open. Six new underwater, waterproof Motorola personal-communication radios. Yes. Now they could talk to each other while on underwater approaches. It would help them stay together. For now there would be three of the radios in each platoon. The radios used throat mikes that would always be on. Just talk and you broadcast. He read a pamphlet that came with them. Good on land for up to six miles. Underwater, where sound transfer was better, up to eight miles. It said sonar would create static on the sets if the frequencies were anywhere near it. He put that down on his list for a quick trial.
He looked over the platoon roster. So far he didn’t need any new men. Only one wound. They had been lucky on this sequence. Were there any of the men who weren’t keeping up, who were shirking their workloads or messing up in combat? He went over the list twice and found nobody he wanted to boot back into the black-shoe Navy.
Murdock checked his watch. Nearly 0800. The platoon was due in, and Masciareli usually came in about this time. Just as he thought it, his phone rang. He answered it.
“Dammit, Murdock, you just might have something here,” Commander Masciareli boomed through the handset. “With everything else exploding around here, everyone just forgot about that neat little underwater building. I have a call into the admiral right now about launching an investigation into the radio traffic out of that area. Simple job with sniffer plane flying over and monitoring the platform. If that warrants it, we’ll move out with the Coast Guard and do a complete electronic inspection of the oil-drilling rig.”
“What about the underwater building, Commander?”
“That will be the next step. If the tower shows North Koreans, we’ll have you and your men go down and blast a hole into that underwater bunker. Then we’ll see what really is going on down there.”
“Thank you, Commander. We’re ready to help anytime you give us the word.”
“Hang loose, Murdock. If I know the admiral, this could all go down in a matter of ten to twelve hours.”
DeWitt came in and sat down in the only other chair. He picked the training sked off the wall and looked at it.
Murdock said good-bye and hung up. He handed DeWitt a copy of his letter and went out to the squad room to see how the men were doing. DeWitt came boiling out after him a minute later.
“You think this might be the key? We were so damn close and we let it slip away?”
“Could be. Masciareli thinks the admiral will move quickly on it, maybe even today. For training today let’s keep it at home. We’ll do some beach running with full combat gear and weapons, then do the O course again. Hey, come in here. Have I got something to show to you.”
DeWitt bellowed in delight when he saw the waterproof personal radios.
“Three for your squad and three for mine. We’ll try them this afternoon just off the beach if nothing else pops. You keep one, give your point man one, and pick a man for the third. Oh, I’d like Mahanani to have one as the platoon medic.”
“Right, Franklin gets the third. He did a good job tracking for us yesterday. Led us right down the trail. Said he’d been watching Lam.”
“Do we have any kind of a wound limit? How many enemy wounds can a SEAL take and still stay in the platoons?”
“Never heard of any limit. Depends on the wounds. That third one was just an in-and-out on my arm. They shouldn’t count. Like that one you picked up in the Carib.”
“Lam has six wounds.”
“Damn, that many? Maybe he shouldn’t walk point anymore.”
“I’m going to talk to him about it.” Murdock looked at DeWitt, but couldn’t see any change from yesterday. “You mention the idea to Milly about getting your own platoon?”
De Witt hooded his eyes and nodded once. “Right, we went over it for about an hour. She’s all for it. Said it would get me away from Don Stroh and you and all the combat missions we have. I figured she’d say that.”
“But you’re just pigheaded enough that you want to go right on getting shot at and shot up and maybe killed.”
DeWitt grinned. “Fuck, yes, Commander. Why do you suppose you and I are both still here?” They both laughed and waved at Senior Chief Sadler, who walked in.
“That still doesn’t answer my basic question, Lieutenant. I’ll expect your answer by tonight.”
Sadler didn’t try to understand. “All men are present and accounted for, Commander. Everyone on deck.”
“Thanks, Sadler. Training begins in thirty. Beach run, then the O course. Get them ready.” Sadler turned and left.
DeWitt frowned looking at the new Motorolas. “Did we see if they are set with the same chips so they can talk to our old dry sets?”
Murdock shook his head. He picked up one of the sets, studied it a minute, then turned a small on switch and pushed the earpiece in place. Murdock pointed, and De Witt went into the squad room and used his dry-land Motorola.