“I just hope the printing on the rain check I gave you doesn’t fade out over the years.”
“No chance. It’s under lock and key in a humidity- and temperature-controlled environment, just like the Declaration of Independence.”
“Good.” She sobered. “What’s going to happen to that Chinese destroyer with the other warheads?”
“Wish I knew. Depends on how tough NATO has been since we left. They might have it bottled up right now. We’ll find out as soon as we get you two into the medics.”
“Me? I’m all right.”
“Hey, you’re better than that. But you get checked over by the local medical guys anyway. They like working on pretty girls.”
“Check me over and release me. I’m not staying there overnight.”
They landed on schedule in Athens. Murdock told the attendant that they would need a wheelchair. They waited to be last off, and a chair was at the gate. Holt protested, but Murdock insisted. Kat could walk with only a slight limp.
Just forty minutes later both patients had been checked out in the Athens hospital. Kat was looked over quickly, the dressing on her shoulder changed and the leg wound treated, and she was released.
They waited for word from the doctors about Holt.
A harried-looking doctor came out of the operating room.
“Commander Murdock?” he asked.
“Right here.”
“Your man, Holt, is not the best. His lung collapsed as we were examining him. Lucky it waited until now. We have to get that lung working again, patch up the hole in his lung, and find the slug that caused it. We don’t know where the slug is. We’re listing him as critical right now. We should know a lot more about his condition in twenty-four hours.”
26
Back in their quarters in the NATO base, the SEALs had showers, fresh uniforms, and various kinds of food service. Then it was sack time. It had been a long day.
After his shower, Murdock reported to his control, Admiral Tanning. The admiral was showing some wear and tear, Murdock decided. Not the usual zip. He wiped one hand across his face and waved Murdock into a chair.
“Good work in Kabul. That’s one more down. Now we’re worried about what else went on with that Athens relay. We’ve had a team of six men working the airport. By now we have chapter and verse on the terrorist chopper when it came in and what happened to the warheads. At least one of them went to Afghanistan. The word we have now is that there was one more warhead and we have three possibilities where it went. It was shipped out within minutes after it hit the airport here.”
“Three different countries, Admiral?”
“As of this morning. We have since eliminated one of them, so we’re down to two. Which doesn’t help us one hell of a lot until we get down to the country who bought it from the smugglers.
“There was a lot of action by Libyan aircraft about that time, but we’ve ruled them out as participants. They were burned twice and must have decided to pass on chance three. Which leaves us with Syria and Lebanon. They had planes and agents all over that airport landing area. It could be either one. From what we have learned, it looked like both were supposed to get goods, but there was only one warhead available. One got it, one didn’t.”
“So how do we find out which is which?”
“Diplomacy, old man. Diplomacy.”
“Which means spies. Do we have any in either of those countries?”
“NATO doesn’t, but the CIA certainly does. Deep cover, way down there, and reliable. We’ve used them before. With any luck we’ll have a report before breakfast call.”
Murdock closed his eyes and shook his head. “Excuse me, Admiral, but it’s been a long day. We had two casualties, a walking wounded and a more serious one. Kat took a round through her leg and picked up a ricochet scrape on her shoulder. She says she’s operational, but we’ll see.”
“Commander, get out of here. You need some sack time. Sleep in tomorrow. I’ll let you know if we have a definite on one country or the other. You have anyone who speaks Arabic?”
“Two of us, Admiral. We might need to go with just a pair. Talk more about it tomorrow. With the admiral’s permission?”
“Good night, Commander. Sleep well.”
Murdock did.
He slept in until almost seven the next morning, showered, and had breakfast before he headed to the admiral’s office.
Admiral Tanning worked on some papers as Murdock came into his office. Murdock stood at attention until the admiral looked up.
“Murdock, yes. I sent a man looking for you. Sit down. Our spooks have found something. They can’t say for sure, but they are ninety-percent positive that one warhead was taken into Syria. Those are not the most friendly folks.”
“Do we have any kind of a location where the warhead might be?”
“Our people there say that anything of importance winds up in Damascus in southwestern Syria.”
“When do we go in?”
“As soon as you’re ready. Is Kat well enough to go?”
“She will think so. I’ll have to decide.”
“Look at this map. No good entry point except by air. We can fly you over Israel and the Golan Heights and into southern Syria. Exfiltration would be the same route except by land. No chance we can put a chopper in there to get you out.”
“Looks like a long walk.”
“Forty miles to the tip of Israel.”
“Maybe we can find a camel. I better get the troops moving.”
Murdock did a snappy about-face and hurried out to the SEALs’ temporary dayroom.
Half the men were there, most clustered around Don Stroh, their CIA hand-holder.
“You already know,” Murdock said, looking at Stroh.
“Hey, I’m CIA, I’m supposed to know. Syria. Only two of the guys speak Arabic. You want me to go along on this one?”
“Sure, Stroh. Check out your parachute and your H&K 21A1 machine gun.”
Stroh grinned. “Hey, I was just kidding. You jumping in?”
“About the only way.” Murdock looked for Ed Dewitt. The Bravo Squad leader was at a far table studying maps. He looked up and came over when Murdock signaled.
“We’ll be going with Bravo Squad on this one,” said Murdock, “with Kat, if she’s able, and me. Khai and Franklin know the language, so they’ll be our point men. We have a contact in Damascus who should give us some direction. Other than that, we’re on our own. We hike out once we spike the warhead. Any questions?”
“Transport?” DeWitt asked.
“Admiral Tanning is having it arranged. It won’t be our usual Black Duck, but some other C-130 that has been minimally outfitted for insertion work over hostile territory.”
“Wonder where our Black Duck is,” Jaybird asked.
“Probably swimming upstream without a paddle,” Vincent Van Dyke chirped, and they all laughed. That broke some of the tension that had been building up since Stroh came in the room.
“So, how much time do we have,” Senior Chief Dobler asked.
“We’re calling it,” Murdock said. “Whenever we’re ready. Jaybird, see if you can find Kat. Don’t tell her about the mission because I’ve decided she’s not jumping on that shot-up leg.”
“Everyone from Bravo Squad here?” Senior Chief Dobler asked. DeWitt looked around.
“I need two. Jefferson, flush them out wherever they are. Their bunks, or the PX. Move.”
“Sounds like we better stick to regular ammo, so we don’t bog down somewhere,” DeWitt said. “Ostercamp, get your SATCOM and check it out. Just a quick run-through. Let’s get our gear squared away, Bravo. I want you all ready to jump in an hour.”
Murdock’s watch read 0840. It would be a night jump, but he wasn’t sure when the plane would be on hand or how long the flight would take to Damascus. They would be ready. He spent the next half hour working on his gear, getting everything set and putting a new edge on his fighting knife with a stone.