Hostile Fire by Keith Douglass Read Free Book Online

explosion and sealed the cave. Not much chance of Third Platoon going there.
    Iran was heating up again. An American diplomat had been gunned down in usually stable Yemen. Two men on a motorcycle raced up beside the diplomat’s car. One man used a submachine gun and riddled the rear seat window and the man inside the car. The attackers sped away, were soon lost in the heavy traffic, and escaped. No one had taken responsibility for the crime at the last report. No, they wouldn’t go to Yemen.
    He gave up, fished the roast beef dinner out of the microwave, and ate it right out of the plastic tray. Surprisingly, it tasted good and there was plenty of it. He went back to the paper.
    Ardith charged in at seven-thirty. She was tall, slender, with a mass of long blond hair that cascaded over her shoulders. She was the daughter of the senior senator from Oregonand had worked for him in Washington for six years as an assistant counsel. She came west when she had a job offer she couldn’t refuse. Today there were worry lines around her eyes and she slumped against the wall.
    “Tough day at the office?” Murdock asked.
    Ardith laughed, ran to him, and hugged him soundly, then kissed him and kicked off her shoes. “Yes, Master. A furious day at the office. The client changed his mind, then when we did what he wanted he changed it back to the way we had it in the first place. My boss is taking him out to dinner, but I begged off. So what’s new at your zoo?”
    “Mostly routine. Oh, Marie Fernandez might be calling you. We’ll be in the desert tomorrow and home about midnight. Miguel thought maybe you three could take in a movie or something.”
    “Sounds good.”
    “Miguel is having some worries about being a SEAL. He’s re-evaluating his job, his career, the whole thing. I think he’ll come out of it okay, but you never can tell. I’ve lost three good men who decided to go back to the black shoe navy. One of them went to officer candidate school, so he doesn’t count.”
    “Miguel, he’s been with you a long time.”
    “Six years. Now what can I thaw out for you for dinner?”
    “Anything in there that will get hot. I could eat a horse. Let me get out of these work clothes and dress down a little. Desert tomorrow? You get a new senior chief today?” Murdock nodded. “How do you like him?”
    “I think he’ll do fine. Doesn’t look like Sadler will make it back. He got shot up a little too much. We’ll have to wait about four months to see.”
    He stuffed the chicken breast with broccoli and cherry pie desert into the microwave and set it for five minutes. He turned it on and looked at the paper again. Nothing in the international news that sounded critical. He was about to tune the TV set to CNN when his cell phone chimed. He’d forgotten to turn it off. He flipped the phone open.
    “Murdock here.”
    “Good, I caught you.” Murdock recognized the master chief’s voice at once. “Sir, we’re getting our tails twistedagain. I got a direct call from the CNO. He said he had a phone call from the President and the Chairman of the National Security Council and they want your platoon in DC tomorrow afternoon for a briefing at Langley. Something hot is cooking but he wouldn’t tell me what. You don’t argue with the chief of naval operations. You had an early morning trip to the desert planned for tomorrow. We have you booked on a biz jet for oh-eight-thirty. You’re to come in full combat-ready gear, double loads of ammo, and all weapons. No Dragers or wet suits. This sounds like a dry land operation.”
    “Yes, Master Chief. North Island Air at oh-eight-thirty. Gives us lots of time. Have you talked with Miguel Fernandez lately?”
    “No, why, is he in trouble?”
    “Not a bit, just wondered. We’ll be ready and on board. We have two new men, but they’ll have to earn their pay as they learn. We’ll let the men check in over the quarter deck at the sched time of oh-four-thirty and take it from there.