“Yes, Sir. I want the next grade.”
Murdock stood. Guzman stood at once, and came to attention.
“Thanks, Guzman, Master Chief Mackenzie will be talking with you.”
Guzman started to salute, then dropped his hand, did a snappy about-face, and walked out of the room.
Murdock went to his door, and motioned to the next man, Jack Mahanani. The man rose out of the chair across the squad room, and filled the door frame when he walked in. He stood at ease, and grinned at Murdock. Murdock told him to sit down. He did with a smooth, controlled movement that many big men lack.
“Damn, Sir. Been hoping like crazy to get a shot at the Third Platoon of Seven.”
“Why’s that, Jack?”
“Hell, you guys get all the best assignments. Seems like you’re in the field damn near half the time. Hear you almost lost a man on your last run. Bitchin’. But then that means I got a shot at filling in his place.”
“How much do you weigh, Jack?”
“Two-forty. I keep it right there. I know the SEAL limit is two-forty-two, so I don’t get in no trouble.”
“Hear you like to swim.”
“True. My mom says I’m half dorado. I’d rather be half white shark, but you take what you can get.”
“You did the rough-water three-mile without fins?”
“Oh, that. Yeah, kind of embarrassing. I beat all the instructors who challenged me. They roasted me for a week.”
“All-time record, I hear.”
“Yeah. My Tahitian mom is to blame. She made me swim every day off Mission Beach in San Diego. Said every Tahitian should be a swimmer.”
“You’re a Hospital Corpsman First Class, but don’t want the corpsman job in the platoon. Is that right?”
“I could do it if your regular man goes down. Rather use one of them big fifty-caliber Mcmillan eighty-sevens.”
“You should be able to handle it. Jack, how do I pronounce your last name?”
“It’s Hawaiian, my dad’s moniker. Mahanani, just the way it looks.
Pronounce every letter.”
“Thanks. Now, why do you want to be in Third Platoon of the Seventh?”
“Like I said. You guys get all the action. Training is fine, but I hear some of these platoons here have never fired a damn shot in anger on a mission. I don’t want to play at war that way. I want some real action.”
Murdock grinned. He liked this kid. “Jack Mahanani, I think we can guarantee you some real action. If you come with us, we’ll get you blooded in a big rush.”
Murdock stood up. Jack stood.
“Jack, you’ll be hearing from Master Chief Mackenzie. You’re supposed to report back to him now.”
As soon as he left, Murdock got on the phone to Mackenzie.
“Yes, George. I want Jack Mahanani. Write out the orders for him.
He’s to report here at zero-eight-hundred Monday morning.”
“The swimmer. He’s quite a specimen. You can use him. I’ll get the paperwork done. He’s all yours. I’d guess you’ll go on a training sked.”
“You guess right, Master Chief.”
“Whatever you need, have Jaybird give me a call.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
They hung up, and Murdock looked at his master training chart.
What could he pull out to help integrate Mahanani into the platoon?
Holt, with the slug through his left arm, could do all of the training exercises except the o-course. Adams and Douglas, with their minor shrapnel wounds, could take the pace on any of the training. Ken Ching, with the slug through his thigh, would have to go light on marching and swimming for a week, maybe two. He’d be left behind on the first week’s workouts. Murdock decided to assign Ching to a series of upper body workouts that wouldn’t bother his leg and would keep him busy.
Mahanani could fit into Gonzalez’s old slot in the Second Squad, but that would be up to Dewitt. He might want to adjust his squad somehow. The big Hawaiian would be the man if they put a Mcmillan Fifty with the squad. Murdock had often thought of having two of the long-range weapons in the platoon. This might be the time to try it.
He’d talk to Dewitt Monday.
Murdock took Sunday off. He stayed at his condo, slept until noon, then called Ardith and ran up his phone bill.
“I’m recuperating from a nasty cold, I’m tired, crotchety, and I wish I was there so you could pamper me a little,” she said. “I can use a lot of pampering right now.”
“Hey, wish I was there too. Maybe in March.”
“But this is only January. March is not acceptable.” There was a pause, and she gave a long sigh. “Damn, Murdock, why can’t we at least work on the same side of the country?” They went on talking for a half hour.
“I hear things are heating up over in North Korea,” Ardith said.
“Wouldn’t know, I’m not at the seat of government. I’m just a lowly cog in the military machine. Nobody tells me anything.”
“I bet. Hey, fair warning. If I hear about you getting ready to shoot off somewhere on a mission, I’m going to have an urgent need to do some government work in San Diego. Fair warning.”
“Heard and understood. No complaints from this side of the country. I better let you go. Pamper yourself. A bubble bath, and then a long nap, some coffee, and maybe some white wine while you watch the flames in your fireplace.”
“Oh, yes. I’ll remember doing that when you were here.”
“Good night, beautiful lady.”
“Thank you, and good night to you.”
Murdock hung up. Why couldn’t life be simpler? Why couldn’t Ardith have a nothing job, and jump at the chance to live in San Diego, and be with him all the time? He snorted. Hell, then she wouldn’t be Ardith, and he probably wouldn’t look at her twice.
He went for a two-mile walk, then watched an old movie on TV, and got to bed early.
Monday morning, Murdock put Third Platoon into a light training schedule. They were near Niland in the California desert at the Naval Chocolate Mountain Gunnery Range for two days. They had some new weapons Murdock wanted to test. The men who had not fired the now-standard H&K G-11 caseless-round automatic rifle got all the firing time they wanted with it.
“Every man here has to be proficient with every weapon we carry.
Who hasn’t been checked out on the fifty-caliber sniper rifle yet?”
There were three men, including Mahanani. Murdock told Bradford to give Mahanani lots of work on the big weapon. Bradford took them to the “B” range, and they each took twenty-five shots. Then Bradford gave them all a quick course in breaking down and cleaning the heavy-firing long gun.
Murdock and Dewitt had talked about Mahanani before they left.
“Yeah, let’s put him in Gonzalez’s spot in the formation,” Dewitt had said. “I like the idea of having a Fifty in my squad. It’ll give us a little more firepower when we need it. He’s big enough to do the job. What does he weigh?”
Murdock had told him 240.
“I just hope I don’t have to carry him out of some firefight like we did Gonzalez.”
Murdock showed the rest of the men a weapon that looked strange.
It had a bipod, shot a NATO 7.62 round, and could be used to fire around the corner of a building or a wall. The weapon was placed around the corner, then the gunner sat in the protected spot, looked through a right-angled flexible telescope, and fired the weapon with an electronic trigger.
Murdock got off two three-round bursts, and turned it over to Jaybird.
“Too much trouble to set up,” Jaybird said. “Yeah, I’m crazy, but I want reliability and mobility. Anyway, I don’t shoot around too many corners these days.”
Most of the other SEALs who tested the new around-the-corner weapon agreed.
Murdock gave Jaybird a move-out signal, and the Platoon Chief rousted the men out into their combat positions in a pair of diamond formations.