Murdock stayed with his wounded men as they were taken to sick bay on the destroyer. Two Navy doctors took over. The medics did some cleanup work on DeWitt's leg, then put him in a hospital bed.
"We want to watch the lieutenant's wound until we get him back to the earner," one of the doctors said. "With field surgery, there's always a chance some infection could run wild. Tell your medic he did a damn fine job locating that slug without any X ray or a CAT scan. I'll give you a letter for his file."
Al Adams's bullet wound through his left arm got a quick working over. A nurse cleaned the wound on both sides, then gave him a shot of antibiotics and a fresh bandage. He was released back to duty with orders to check in every two days at sick bay on the carrier.
Fernandez was another matter. Murdock looked up from a magazine as the doctor came into the waiting area.
"Fernandez's condition is critical. One of his lungs has started to collapse, but we've taken care of that. The slug shattered when it hit a rib and caused a lot of trouble inside. The wounds to his shoulder are not a problem. We're doing more tests, but it's going to be a watch-and-wait situation. I'll keep you informed about his condition. He's a SEAL, right?"
"Yes sir. One of my best men. I don't want to lose him."
"Right now we can't tell just how bad it is. We should know in eight to ten hours."
Murdock thanked him, and went with Al Adams back to their assembly room. When they got in the door at the room, Jaybird had the men working on their weapons. They all had changed from the Korean civilian clothes back to cammies.
"Feels a hell of a lot better than them damn pajamas," Ronson said. That drew a chorus of cheers.
"The JG is in good shape, but they kidnapped him until we get to the carrier," Murdock said.
"Fernandez is still under the knife. They don't know exactly how much damage there was. One of the bullets in his chest shattered and caused all sorts of hell. We're waiting to see what the medics say."
The telephone rang and Murdock took it. Don Stroh was on the radio hookup from the carrier.
"You shit-kickers really get the job done. Damn but I love you guys. Two out of three. The odds around Eighth Army HQ was that you'd only get one of those North Korean generals."
"Any fallout yet from the two men down?" Murdock asked.
"None. Not even an announcement that the two generals had been killed in an accident or due to some serious illness. Nobody is sure what to expect from these crafty Orientals."
Murdock moved away from his men and talked quietly.
"Look, we're down to eleven men, ten really. We can't function this way. Don't cook up any new missions for us. If you haven't heard, DeWitt has a bad leg wound and is out of action. The platoon is dead in the water here."
"Don't worry about it. You might have lots of time. Word at Eighth Army HQ is that the attacks all along the line have stopped. The North seems to be having second thoughts. Our side has halted all offensive thrusts and curtailed the air war. It's like a cease-fire without any talking about it."
"Think they're serious?"
"I'd say so. General Reynolds thinks so. The Vice President is still in Seoul. I hear that he's been authorized to put on the table the same offer he made at Panmunjom the day before the war started. The food supplies and medical teams and goods, if it gets to the civilian population. The offer may already have been made."
"So maybe those two snuffs did some good?"
"I'd say they made all the difference. You took out the top two men. Now the third general has to decide what to do. Besides, he'll be scared to death to put his head out of a concrete bunker somewhere. The civilian guy they brought in might also have some say. Who knows."
"Not me, Stroh. I leave politics to the professionals. Now, I'm heading for a shower. We'll see you in about six hours or so. In the meantime, I'm getting hungry enough to eat your old shoes. See you soon."
Murdock went for a shower and some clean clothes. The men were heading for a special chow.
Murdock had no idea what time it was. They had been up since midnight. He looked at his watch: It was 1330. It had been a long day. He had a meal in the wardroom, then hit his bunk hard and slept.
The huge beast with war clubs in each hand kept banging on the castle wall. Murdock told it to get lost. But it banged and banged. Murdock stirred on his bunk, shook his head, and sat up.
"Yeah, yeah, hold your skivvies up." He stumbled to the door and opened it. The sailor grinned.
"Sorry, sir, to wake you. You have a special radio call from the carrier. The guy was insistent. A Mr. Stroh."
"Yeah. I'll get my pants on and you point me to the closest hookup." A few minutes later, Murdock took the phone and whispered into the mouthpiece. "Stroh, you unrepentant chicken plucker. You better have a good reason for waking me up or I'll pluck you clean when I get back on the carrier."
"I love you too, Murdock. We've got good news. The civilian man I spoke about, who was number four in the government, has been handed the reins of power by the last general, and he's called for a cease-fire. I'd say you boys could be heading home in a day or two as soon as I can make some arrangements."
"You're off the hook, Stroh fish-catcher. Damn you, Stroh, I just got to sleep. While I'm up, find out if there's an NCIS man on board the Monroe. I've got some serious charges to bring and I want it done right."
"Yeah, what's the NCIS?"
"You've got to know that, Stroh. It's the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, a civilian operation that works directly with the CNO and isn't subject to any regular Naval authority. Entirely impartial and can investigate anything from a five star admiral down to the lowliest deck swabber."
"I'll find out. You should be on board in another two hours. Take another nap. You're no fun when you're so cranky."
"Yeah, Stroh, go fish."
Murdock smiled as he hung up. So the Little War was over. He didn't quite know how many days it had lasted, but the SEALs sure as hell had had a lot to do with ending it. Yeah, another nap sounded just about right.
The next day on board the Monroe, Murdock listened to the carrier's legal officer explaining it again. He still wasn't sure that he understood it yet.
"While the offense did not take place on the carrier, it was done by an enlisted man assigned here on temporary duty, and as such he comes under the legal control of this command.
"Charges of dereliction of duty and failure to follow a direct order have been placed in proper form and order with this command. We have taken the man into custody and he will be transported to San Diego, where he will be subjected to a hearing to determine if a court-martial should be held. Any such hearing and court-martial would be held at the Naval Special Warfare Command in Coronado. Is everyone clear on this?"
Murdock, Jaybird, and Joe Douglas nodded.
"Then this meeting is over. Return the prisoner to the brig."
Two Master-at-Arms men stood beside Douglas. They indicated he should go with them.
Douglas turned to Murdock. "Commander, you know I didn't do nothing like this. Jaybird hates my guts, always has since I first signed on. He told me he'd get me sooner or later."
Murdock waved him off. "You'll have your day at the court-martial, Douglas. You better just keep quiet now."
Jaybird shook his head. "Damnit, Skipper, I never should have let the two be side by side back there on that hill. Things were coming down damn fast right then. They were the closest ones to cover that right flank. I reacted without thinking about the trouble between the two. Yeah, I knew about it. JG and I even talked about leaving Douglas behind on the last mission. We decided we needed his gun. Fucking bad decision, it turns out."
Four days later, Fernandez had stabilized enough that he could be airlifted on an ambulance plane out of Seoul with other war casualties and flown to San Francisco. The Army wounded would go to Letterman General Hospital there, and three Navy men would continue on to Balboa Naval Hospital in San Diego.