Chad thought of how that would segregate him from his buddies. He would become the "rich guy" in the platoon. Right now none of the Brigands gave his former privileged civilian existence much thought or consideration. "I'd be gone a lot:'
"I don't care," Penny said. "I could be a good Navy wife."
Suddenly Chad felt she was intruding into his life, putting his friendships in jeopardy and threatening a lifestyle he had learned to love. And she seemed girlish and immature to him now. This sudden flash of negativity surprised him, especially when it was directed toward a girl he once worshipped and dreamed of as his wife.
Penny frowned. "Why aren't you saying anything, Chad?"
"I think we should stay in touch and keep all this under consideration," he said. "We're still young and have the luxury of time on our side." He checked his watch. "I've got to go. I'm on the second dog watch at the CP."
"What in the world is a dog watch?" she asked.
"The dog watches are two hours each between sixteen-and twenty-hundred hours," Chad explained. "It keeps you from having watch at the same time every day. It's also when the evening meal is served aboard ship."
"But you're not on a ship," Penny pointed out.
"But we're in the Navy, so we follow naval tradition." He looked at his watch again. "I have to go, but I'll come off watch at twenty-hundred. Can we go for another walk tonight?"
"All right."
"Let's make love again, Penny," he urged, with more feelings of horniness than romantic affection.
She nodded yes and smiled at him, yet she felt a sudden nagging uneasiness. She had always been able to manipulate boys, especially Chad. But somehow she sensed things had changed where the SEAL was concerned.
.
C-130 AIRCRAFT
0VER THE MID-ATLANTIC OCEAN
12 SEPTEMBER
0930 HOURS LOCAL
THE debriefing at Station Bravo in Bahrain had taken more time than expected. The Army's Special Forces were planning some operations in the area of the ravines, and their A-Teams scheduled for the mission had a plethora of questions. All this had to be taken care of in Isolation, where the platoon performed the functions of assets. The SEALs were sympathetic to their brothers-in-arms and presented a thorough briefing along with sketch maps to help out the soldiers. They gave dire warning of the shortage of water in the OA. None of Brannigan's Brigands envied the Green Berets for the ordeal they faced.
Now sitting in his usual spot in the aircraft, next to the cockpit, Brannigan relaxed back into the roar of the four engines, his mind turning off the sound as he reflected on this, the platoon's first mission. The results were excellent. Even though they were unable to link up with the defector as in the original OPORD, they destroyed two unruly warlords who had the potential of aiding Al Qaeda operatives in Afghanistan. It was a damn shame that Kevin Albee and Adam Clifford were KIA.
The Skipper glanced over to where Senior Chief Buford Dawkins and Chief Matt Gunnarson sat napping. They were the best chiefs in the Navy as far as Lieutenant Wild Bill Brannigan was concerned. The two had the uncanny ability to anticipate just about everything that happened. At no time were they stumbling around in confusion; instead, they reacted quickly to unexpected incidents in a timely manner. Lieutenant Jim Cruiser had been a laid back 21C, but that was nothing against him. Some guys just aren't real emotional or verbose, but he was always effective and quick-thinking.
Chad Murchison seemed withdrawn where he sat by himself in the midst of the webbed seating. The whole platoon knew he'd taken up with a girl who had once dumped him for another guy. From the way Chad was talking, it was evident to everyone that there was an aura of uncertainty about their romance. No doubt some lingering anger, over the old romance still troubled the SEAL. That was something the two kids would have to work out.
The Odd Couple were both napping; Puglisi, Connie Concord, Guttorm Olson, Milly Mills and Joe Miskoski were playing poker at the rear of the fuselage, and the clever Puglisi seemed to be pulling in the most pots. James Bradley was inventorying his medical kit while Frank Gomez, like Chad, was lost in deep thought. He was thinking about his wife and child, no doubt.
Brannigan knew that later on the whole bunch would either be napping or reading some of the paperback books left over from the package sent up to them from Kabul. Brannigan laughed without sound in the pounding of the engines when he remembered that most of the novels were adventure books. It was hard to conceive guys who had plenty of excitement and danger in their lives wanting to read fictional accounts of made-up characters and their escapades.
Brannigan checked his watch, then turned his reverie to his wife Lisa. He wondered if it was all over between them. He couldn't blame her if she wanted a divorce, especially after the incident of flinging that pilot over the hors d'oeuvre table. But he'd like to give things another try. Of course she might have already found another guy. She was in daily contact with plenty of eligible bachelors who would appreciate her sexiness and beauty. The thought of her being with someone else stung Brannigan emotionally enough to cause a wave of sadness and regret to sweep over him. If Lisa now preferred someone else, the guy would probably be a pilot. It was better that way for her. Brannigan loved Lisa enough to want her happiness to come first. And she sure as hell couldn't be on cloud nine married to Wild Bill of the U. S. Navy SEALs.
The Skipper yawned, and his eyes slowly closed. Within moments he was fast asleep.
Chapter 24
OFFICERS' CLUB
NAS NORTH ISLAND, CALIFORNIA
15 SEPTEMBER
1130 HOURS LOCAL
BRANNIGAN entered the club at the front door, cutting across the foyer to go directly to the bar. He slid onto a stool, ordered a vodka tonic and sat tapping his fingers impatiently until it was served. He downed the libation in three quick swallows. "Another, please."
"Yes, sir," the bartender said indifferently. The young sailor was used to pissed-off or stressed-out people quickly knocking back the first drink even that early in the afternoon. He mixed another vodka tonic, this time a little bit stronger, and served it.
Brannigan took a sip, then set the glass down, checking his watch.
He'd called Lisa the day before from McConnell Air Force Base in Wichita, Kansas, during a refueling stop. She'd told him that her squadron would be finishing up their training operation on 15 September, and they should return to North Island by 1400 hours that same day. She said it would be more convenient if she met him at the officers' club between 1700 and 1800. He'd shown up a half hour early to get a little extra lubrication of vodka for their get-together. It occurred to him that instead of their driving home together, she might inform him that the locks on the house had been changed and he wouldn't be able to get in. He would have to find a place to stay in the BOQ.
They had really been on the outs when he went into Isolation back in early August, and he had been unable to speak to her since that time. He knew his confrontation with the mouthy pilot at the squadron party had pretty much demonstrated that their professional rapport had gone to hell along with their marital relationship. Things were bad and showed every potential of getting worse. He dreaded the words he would hear from her. No doubt the announcement of a separation followed by divorce was in the works. When everything was finalized, the BOQ would be his permanent home.
Brannigan shrugged. What the hell? That was where he was living when he first met her. He took another swallow of the cocktail, feeling strange in civilian clothing after the long weeks in the OA. He wore a polo shirt, jeans and loafers. There was not an item of equipment or weaponry either strapped on or hanging off him. The atmosphere of the club was also alien to this man who had only recently been prepared to make a last stand against an overwhelming enemy force. Now he was back in this other world where people existed in a peaceful, ordered environment.