Combat Alley (2007) (26 page)

When that second pitcher was done in, Chad signaled to one of the barmaids for another. After being served, he settled back to enjoy some more solitary drinking and contemplation. His mind turned to his time in BUD/S, that school that turns ordinary guys into SEALs. Chad grinned as he suddenly remembered the time when some Twinkies were discovered in a student's room. The instructors made the poor guy spend all the breaks the following day double-timing around the training site singing out, I love Twinkies! I love Twinkies! I love Twinkies! Each time he made a complete circuit of the class area he had to drop down for a dozen eight-count push-ups before leaping up to continue the routine.

And there was the unforgettable and very scary drown proofing in the CTT. Chad had been brought up around boats, both sail and power, and had spent a lot of time out on the water. Like most rich kids, he had learned to swim early in life in case of falling overboard as well as for sport. But having his hands and feet tied before jumping into the tank unnerved him. The idea was to sink to the bottom, then come up for a breath of air before submerging again. The first couple of times convinced him they would be fishing him out for resuscitation, but he quickly caught on and it became routine, although he hoped he would never have to do it for real.

The low point of BUD/S for Chad had been when he was assigned to the Goon Squad. They were the hapless students who performed the worst in training. The goons were the slowest of the slow, the most awkward of the awkward, and the least likely to succeed. This lack of aptitude resulted in their being assigned to the lowly team with the insulting name. The instructors figured none of them would make the grade, and wanted to save the Navy the time and expense of carrying their useless asses through too much more of the training. They were the ones who were made to come out of the frigid surf and roll on the beach to get wet and sandy.

They also had to do bear crawls, buddy carries, and other chickenshit stuff to drive them to quit. But Chad, chafing from being dumped by Penny Brubaker, was determined to make good and he refused to give up. He took an amazing amount of punishment, actually gaining strength and courage as the mistreatment continued with increasing pressure. He realized later that this was why he was eventually given extra encouragement, because the instructors came to admire the fighting spirit in his skinny body.

Mind games were also a big part of the curriculum. Most of the time, the team that finished last in a training exercise received extra PT as a punishment. But Chad remembered once when he was in the fastest group to complete a run, and the instructors chose to punish them instead. And, of course, there were those 120 hours of Hell Week with five days of tougher discipline, frigid cold, constant wetness, wrestling inflatable boats and logs; all on a grand total of four hours of sleep.

Now, sitting half drunk in the Fouled Anchor Tavern as a decorated combat veteran of numerous SEAL missions, Petty Officer Second Class Chadwick Murchison grinned to himself. Would he go through it again?

Damn straight, pal!

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PENNY'S BEACH HOUSE

21 NOVEMBER

1845 HOURS

PENNY pulled off the street and into the driveway, taking the BMW down to the garage. Chad glanced over at the patio when they came to a stop. He saw Harrington and Stephanie Gilwright sitting at a table. The married couple was next to a portable heater that was going full blast to give some comfort from the cold air coming off San Diego Bay. Stephie got to her feet and walked toward the car as Penny and Chad got out.

My God, Chad! Stephie exclaimed giving him a hug. You look like a rugged movie star!

Chad hugged her back. How are you, Stephie?

Penny led the way to the patio as the other two followed. Harrington remained seated, and Chad could see he was drunk. The SEAL nodded to him. Hello, Harrington.

Nice to see you, Chad, he said. Care for a drink, old boy?

I could use a beer.

Coming up, Harrington said. He reached over and picked up a small bell, tinkling it. A young Hispanic woman appeared and was given a curt order to bring a beer for the visitor. She disappeared back into the house as Chad and the two girls sat down. Harrington took a sip of his martini, studying Chad. You've changed quite a lot, old boy.

Yeah. I have.

So you're what is known universally as a SEAL, what? Harrington inquired.

Yeah.

I've seen those chaps running around the beach, carrying boats and rolling around and doing an obscene amount of exercise, Harrington said. What's that all about?

That's the training course, Chad said. When they finish it, they will be SEALs.

And you did that?

Yeah.

Damned senseless, if you ask me, Harrington said.

Stephanie actually sneered at her husband. Well, no-body's asking you.

Well, it's a bother, whether anybody asks me or not, Harrington shot back.

The maid reappeared with a bottle of Corona beer and a glass. She carefully poured the brew, bringing up the right size of head. Chad nodded his thanks to her with a smile and took a sip.

How are you doing, Chad? Stephanie asked. We were very concerned when we heard you had been wounded.

Ah, yes, Harrington said. Interesting, I'll say. What happened, old boy?

I was shot, Chad explained. To save other questions, he added, It was in Afghanistan in a firefight with Islamic insurgents. I came out of it fine.

Thank God, Penny said. That's something we're going to have to talk about, Chaddie.

My wound?

No. About when you're getting out of the Navy.

Harrington interjected, You look like a tough fellow, Chad. When you get back to Boston, are you going to look up Cliff Armbrewster and give him a jolly good thrashing for taking Penny away from you?

Shut up, Harrington, Stephanie said. Penny didn't stay with Cliff very long.

Oh, come now, Steph, Harrington said as he mixed another martini in the shaker. You've always had a big crush on our Chad here. I knew that even before we got married. As I recall you were quite happy when Penny took up with that oaf Armbrewster. Thought you were going to have Chad for yourself, hey?

I think that's enough, Penny said. Just get as quietly drunk as you wish, Harrington, and never mind the commentary.

I'll tell you one thing, Harrington said. I wouldn't be a SEAL. He poured the freshly prepared martini into the glass. Damned if I'm stupid enough to go through that ridiculous initiation or whatever it is they call it. He laughed. Nobody needs them anyway. If the President wants to get rid of terrorism in the Middle East, he should just drop a nuclear bomb on the place. Boom! Problem solved, hey? Turn that whole bloody part of the world into a parking lot that glows in the dark, what?

Chad grinned, trying to picture what Harrington would be like in BUD/S. Maybe you're right, Harrington.

Perhaps I am, he said.

Further conversation was interrupted when the maid came out again to announce that dinner was ready. The four followed her inside, going to the dining area. Chad saw that the meal was catered. A couple of servers dressed in white waiter jackets stood behind a buffet that offered soup, salad, New York strip steaks, lobster, potatoes au gratin, and mixed vegetables. For dessert there was chocolate mousse and coffee. Three different wines were available on the table for the quartet of diners. Chad felt guilty as he picked up a plate and began walking down the line to be served. He knew that Brannigan's Brigands' evening meal would have been MREs eaten outside by the hootches as a freezing wind blew in over the Pranistay Steppes.

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2230 HOURS

THE caterers had taken away all their things, the maid had cleaned the kitchen and dining room, Harrington Gilwright was passed out up in his bedroom, and Stephanie had withdrawn to the living room to wind down with a glass of sauvignon blanc. Penny took advantage of the quiet time to take Chad out to the patio to gaze out over San Diego Bay.

The heater made it comfortable, and Chad turned to look at Penny in the dim light coming from the kitchen window. Her features were particularly lovely in the soft illumination, and he spoke to her in a low voice, saying, I don't think we should see each other anymore.

The slight smile of contentment she had lasted only another millisecond before her expression turned into one of angry surprise. What? I can't believe you just said that to me. To me!

I apologize for my obtundness, Penny, Chad said. But it is an unpleasantness we must face up to.

I can't see where you're coming from! she snapped. What brought this nonsense on?

People change.

At first she just stared at him as if he had uttered the vilest declaration of which a human being was capable. She recovered a moment later, crying out, Don't you love me, Chad?

No.

You must want me! Penny cried. I could have my choice of men! She calmed down a little. I don't believe you mean it. You've always loved me. Admit it! She felt a flash of embarrassment and anger as her feminine ego reeled like a rose in a stiff wind. Fate meant us to be together always, Chad! It was fate that brought us together over in Afghanistan.

Twice! That meant we were supposed to be a couple forever! When he made no reply, she continued, It's your terrible experiences in the war that have affected you. And your wound has unsettled you too. You simply must get out of that stupid Navy!

Chad turned away and stared out over the dark waters. You are from a part of my life that I have abandoned, Penny. It was a time when I was not at my best. I was a skinny, awkward kid, unsure of myself and also untested. He looked at her. I want to get away from that and not go back to anything or anyone that has anything to do with those years that I consider no less than awful. It was a time of frustration and strong feelings of inadequacy. And you were the cause of much of that.

Penny looked at him in silence, barely able to comprehend words she thought would never be directed at her.

Chad decided to keep it cruel and short. I do not love you, Penny. I do not want you.

The why did you choose to go to the hospital in San Diego rather than one in Boston? she asked.

I forgot you were here.

The words hit her hard as she realized he meant exactly what he had just said. Penny abruptly left the patio, going into the house. Chad waited a few moments, then followed after her. He went through the kitchen and dining room into the living room where Stephanie sat, looking in puzzlement at the stairs that the weeping Penny had rapidly ascended. She turned her eyes on Chad. What happened?

I need to call a cab, he said, ignoring the question.

The phone is over by the door, Stephanie said. There's a phone book too.

Chad went over and turned to the Yellow Pages. After punching in the number of a taxi company and summoning a ride, he hung up and went out the door to wait at the curb for the ride back to the hospital.

Chapter 19

STATION BRAVO, BAHRAIN

BARRI PRISON

THE two Russian fugitives, Luka Yarkov and Igor Tchaikurov, had been flown directly from the SEALs' bivouac to Station Bravo for confinement and questioning. Petty Officer Andy Malachenko had been extremely surprised when he was ordered to accompany them on the trip. Neither he nor Lieutenant Bill Brannigan could figure out why such instructions had been passed down unless it was because of his fluency in the Russian language. The whole thing pissed off Brannigan since he had thought Andy was back for duty. With Chad Murchison gone, that meant a continuance of being shorthanded, this time in both the Bravo and Delta Fire teams.

Yarkov and Tchaikurov were classified as sensitive personnel by the Special Warfare intelligence staff in the operational area, and Brigadier General Greg Leroux had sent an urgent notification to Fred Leighton, the senior interrogator at Barri Prison, that they were to get a particularly thorough

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LEIGHTON'S OFFICE

22 NOVEMBER

0815 HOURS

THE mysterious Fred Leighton's home address, i. E., the organization he reported to, was not generally known among the prison staff, and that included the commandant. Leighton wore a BDU, but the uniform bore no insignia of rank or military organization. However, his authority was absolute and he seemed to operate with a fund so large that it was rumored there was no limit to the amount of money for his mysterious activities.