The only guys exempted from the programs were the ones who stood CP and commo watch.
.
BRANNIGAN'S CP
0930 HOURS LOCAL
LIEUTENANT Wild Bill Brannigan had been alerted via LASH by Bruno Puglisi, who was on duty at the CP. "You got some visitors coming, sir. One of 'em is the UN interpreter guy and the others is them ragheads whose asses we kicked yesterday. There ain't but three of 'em."
"How does their mood seem, Puglisi?"
"They ain't carrying any sticks or nothing," Puglisi replied. "I'll alert the senior chief and have the guys standing by."
"Carry on," Brannigan said. He buckled his pistol belt around his waist and stepped through the tent flap. He could see the four men walking toward him. The interpreter gave a friendly wave as they approached.
"What can I do for you?" Brannigan asked when they had arrived. He recognized the clan leader Bashar Dahrain.
"Dr. Bouchier has asked me to escort these gentlemen to you," the interpreter said. "They wish to inquire as to the status of their women who were flown away."
"Tell 'em the women are gone forever," Brannigan said. "They should have understood that already."
This led to a murmured exchange between the interpreter and Dahrain. The interpreter spoke to Brannigan. "Mr. Dahrain says his people are very sad because the women are gone."
"Ask him why," Brannigan said. "We know they planned on killing 'ern."
"This is a sensitive situation, Lieutenant," the interpreter cautioned. "We mustn't insult these Dharyans."
"All right," Brannigan said. "Tell him that they were all sick as hell and had to be taken away. They're all probably going to die from being repeatedly raped over the better part of a year. Maybe that'll satisfy the rotten bastards."
The interpreter smiled. "I shall be more diplomatic, Lieutenant. I shall tell them that the women are not expected to live long because their ill treatment. With your permission, I will quote you as saying you believe it is God's will."
"Sure," Brannigan said. "You tell 'em that."
The interpreter turned to Dahrain, speaking in a formal, solemn manner. The clan chief exchanged a few words with his companions. All nodded to indicate acceptance of the American's pronouncement. Then they faced Brannigan and salaamed. The Dharyan group walked away.
"They have acknowledged the situation," the interpreter said. "Their honor is satisfied."
"Piss on their honor."
"At any rate," the interpreter said, "you will happy to know that the young women are now in a place of safety." "What will happen to them?" Brannigan asked.
"They are more than likely illiterate," the interpreter said. "The UN will provide schooling and see that they are settled somewhere in the refugee system. With any luck, some of them may find nice boys to marry." Then he added, "But not Muslim lads, hey?"
"No," Brannigan said. "Not Muslim lads."
.
COMMO TENT
1500 HOURS LOCAL
FRAN K Gomez's commo duties were not too demanding. After the morning PT, he had nothing to do but monitor the receiver of the Shadowfire AN/PSC-5 radio for the rest of the day. So far there had been nothing but the hissing of empty air.
Now, as he sat beside the equipment reading, Frank's head began to nod. He looked forward to the afternoon naps, deciding that when he retired from the Navy he would sleep no less than twenty hours a day to make up for all the slumber he lost while in the service. Suddenly the platoon's call sign came through, breaking into his dozing, and he came instantly awake. As usual the message came in encoded five-letter word groups. Frank took them down rapidly, wondering what the hell he would be reading when he decoded the rather lengthy missive. After SOCOM signed off, it took him another twenty minutes to change the word groups into intelligible English. When he finished, he grinned to himself.
The mission was officially ended.
Brannigan's Brigands would be exfiltrated and returned to the amphibious base in Coronado within seventy-two hours. There was also some data about the cached equipment that had been uncovered on West Ridge, along with the melancholy news that the bodies of Petty Officer First Class Adam Clifford and Petty Officer Third Class Kevin Albee had been disinterred. After a stop at the U. S. Army mortuary unit in Kuwait, the remains had been shipped to the two dead SEALs' hometowns.
Frank hurried from the commo tent to the CP.
.
UN CAMP
1630 HOURS LOCAL
CHAD Murchison walked through the camp, looking for Penny Brubaker. The tents were white, with the big blue letters "UN" stenciled across the tops, and the brightness of the canvas structures gave him an instinctive feeling of uneasiness. They attracted the eye too much for a young man who had been trained to always use camouflage when he was in an OA.
He saw a young blond woman hurrying past with a stack of VCR tapes under her arm. Chad called out, "Excuse me, please."
The woman stopped and looked at him with a slight smile. "Wie bitte?"
"Entschuldigen Sie," he said, noting she had spoken to him in German. "kh bin ein Freund von Penny Brubaker. Und--"
She interrupted him by turning and pointing at a tent and speaking English. "She is over there."
"Thank you," Chad said.
He hurried to the canvas structure and stopped, not sure if he should enter or not. He decided to call out. "Penny!"
He heard a rustle inside, then she appeared. "Chad! What a nice surprise."
"Can I talk to you? It won't take long."
"Of course, darling," she said, taking his arm.
They walked past the clinic and out into the area between the compound and the SEAL bivouac. "We're going back Stateside," Chad said. "SOCOM has scheduled us to leave in three days."
"Well," Penny said in a resigned tone. "Well, we knew we were going to have to face up to that sooner or later. Our UN team will be here for a while. They're talking about setting up a semi-permanent mission here. They have to make a study first to make sure it is a safe enough area."
"That's a good idea," Chad said. "The Al Qaeda might be lurking nearby waiting for the American military to leave."
"Anyway, Chad," Penny said, "we never had a serious discussion about where we stood."
"I guess we didn't," Chad said. "The other evening we obviously took up where we left off back in college."
Penny smiled. "We didn't leave off making love. That was something new. Our relationship is a lot more grown-up now, Chad." She looked at him to make sure he sensed the seriousness in her words. "What are your future plans?"
Chad shrugged. "At the moment I want to stay in the SEALs. The idea of going back to the civilian world isn't that appealing at this particular juncture of my life. I don't think I'd fit in back there."
"The last time I visited your parents," she said, "they were expecting you to return to school and get your degree. Then they would find you a position in the family banking system."
"I don't think I could handle that," Chad said. "Not now. Not after everything I've been through."
"Maybe if you became an officer, your family would be more accepting of your naval career."
"I don't want to be a fucking officer--whoops. We enlisted men just naturally say that:' Chad said. "Anyhow, if I got a commission I'd have to leave the SEALs to follow the Officer Career Program. That would mean I would eventually become a headquarters puke. If I can't be a SEAL, I don't want to stay in the Navy."
"Chad, I'll go wherever you go," Penny said seriously. "Even if you remain an enlisted man, we would have our trusts to augment your Navy pay. We'd live in the best parts of town in a really nice house. It wouldn't be difficult for us to afford a housekeeper and cook."